"Blood of the grape!" cried the superintendent, contemptuously. "Where
were you brought up? Never in a gentleman's wine cellar before? You
should go down to the docks and see the floors there. By Jingo! but it
is blood!"
More of the sawdust was scraped aside, and the truth was plain enough; a
broad patch had lain there, and the granulated wood had been thrown over
to soak it up.
But the constable was not satisfied yet; he kept peering about, made his
way to the iron door, and then dropped upon his knees.
"Here you are, sir," he cried. "They've put the body in here, it seems
to me, for there's a tiny smutch just against the edge. There's been
murder done."
"You're right, Joe," cried the superintendent, sharply; "but where are
the men? You stay here, I'll have the place searched again."
Every nook and corner of the basement was examined without result, and
then the rest of the house was carefully gone over once more, but the
place proved to be empty, and the superintendent returned to where his
sentry was on duty.
"Made anything out, sir?"
"No."
"What about the roof? Must be a trap, and they've got through there."
"There is a trap, my lad, but the cobwebs over it show that it can't
have been opened to-day."
"What about the cellar, sir?"
"I have searched all but the wine cellars, and we can't break in there.
I've sent orders to find out who lives here and telegraph to the family
to come up."
"But you won't wait, sir, before getting this iron door open?"
"No, I sha'n't wait for that."
"That's right, sir. They've killed the poor lady I saw, I'm afraid, and
she's lying in there. That must be a bit of her dress."
There was no further hesitation. Suitable workmen were obtained, and
after many hours' toil the great iron door was drilled and prised off,
the police stepping forward at once to raise the body they expected to
find, and then standing dumbfounded at seeing that there were a couple
of shelves upon one side. The rest of the iron closet was perfectly
empty.
A little further investigation by the aid of lights soon showed, though,
that the supposed strong-room full of costly jewels and plate was only
the entrance to another place, one side forming a door.
This was attacked in turn, and after a long resistance was forced off by
the workmen, and once more the police advanced on the tip-toe of
expectation, to find themselves in a passage leading into a crypt-like
chamber which had evidently been carefully elaborated out of the old
cellarage, traces of which still remained. But there was no sign of
occupation, and for a few moments the police hesitated as to which of
the two closed doors they should attack. These were both of iron,
which, like those of the safe they had passed through, were evidently of
Belgian manufacture, from the name embossed thereon.
But the hesitation soon passed away, for while one proved to be locked
the other was unfastened, and after leaving a couple of men on guard,
the superintendent passed on, leading the way through the farther door.
Beyond was a dark passage cumbered with packing-cases, stacked on one
side from floor to ceiling, while on turning into another passage which
ran at right angles, they came upon a couple of heavy chests in the
course of being unpacked, a heap of old books standing upon the corner
of one.
They examined the place, the basement of a mansion with double kitchens,
servants' hall, pantry, and the like, and the cursory glance obtained
showed them that the crypt-like vaults through which they had passed
must be beneath the garden at the back of the house.
But after satisfying themselves that no one was there they ascended a
flight of stone steps, to find themselves in the book-encumbered hall of
the professor's home. Then followed a quick search through the chambers
of what proved to be an enormous library, room after room being covered
with dusty book-shelves, the home of spiders innumerable, while only one
chamber on the second floor proved to be a bedroom.
Still, there was no trace of those they sought, and a little further
examination showed that they must have passed out into the garden,
entered the stabling at the bottom, and gone out into the mews at the
back, and without doubt before the men were sent round to watch.
"No capture yet," said the superintendent, grimly; "but it seems to me,
Dick, that you'll get your promotion over this bit of mystery, for a
nice game of some kind has been carried on, and we haven't got to the
bottom of it yet I want that other door open now."
They descended to the crypt again, and paused before the locked iron
door, which, thanks to the experience gained in opening the others of
the same make, the workmen forced in the course of an hour, and at the
first flash in of a bull's-eye lantern a suppressed hiss of excitement
escaped from the officer's lips.
"At last!" he muttered. "It's murder, then, after all, but where's the
girl?"
For there, just as they had been carried in, ready for future disposal,
lay side by side, in the bottom of the roomy iron closet, the bodies of
the two servants, each with a bullet wound in the head, such an one as
would produce almost instant death.
They were carried out and laid upon a broad table of massive make, and
as soon as this was done the superintendent examined the iron closet,
whose back was covered with a perfect nest of drawers, one of which on
being opened proved to be full of carefully-done-up rouleaux, the
greater part of the rest being similarly filled.
One of the rouleaux was torn open, and a portion of its contents poured
into the officer's hand.
"Sovereigns," he said. "Why, they must have had to do with some bank.
Eh, what?"
"Duffers," said the constable addressed as Dick. "A gang of smashers."
"It isn't a time for making jokes," said another of the men, who was
handling a couple of sovereigns, "or I'd say you was a duffer. Look at
that; hark at this."
He handed one coin to the man, and rang another on the heavy table, for
it to give out the true sound of sterling gold.
"No smashing here," said the superintendent.
"Then what does all this mean?" said Dick, directing the light of the
lantern he carried across to the far end of the vault. "There's all the
tackle--rolling mill, die stamps, and the rest of it."
"Bah! coiners melt their stuff and electro-gild it. These are right
enough, and there's a big sum of money in there. Here, to work at once;
I must have that door back in its place and the front sealed up."
His man shook his head, and while the superintendent was busy directing
the workmen, the constable carefully examined the elaborate machinery,
and came upon a couple of chests full of little ingots which seemed to
be of the right size for rolling out and stamping into coin.
"I know!" he muttered at last.
"What do you know?" said the superintendent.
"They must be South Africa people with a gold mine of their own, and to
save trouble make up their own stuff into sovereigns. Here, I want to
look at those poor chaps again."
The superintendent seemed disposed to bid him let them be, but he was
beginning to feel more and more confidence in his subordinate's brains,
and together they flashed the light over the ghastly faces.
"That's right," said the constable. "I know 'em well. It's the butler
and footman from next door. I've often seen 'em."
"Then I've got a theory now," said the superintendent, clapping his
subordinate on the shoulder. "You're right, I think, about their
coining their own gold, and they came back to town--you see, Dick, the
people of the house were out of town."
"Yes, been out some time. I know that."
"Well, they came back, and caught these two chaps breaking into the way
to their underground bank, and they treated them like burglars, and shot
them. Then there was a row; that lady you talk about wouldn't stand it;
you raised the alarm."
"And they've sloped. Ah, we ought to have had them, sir."
"Oh, we'll do it yet. They can't get away very far, my lad. Now then,
what are you thinking about now?"
"All those quids, sir. I'm sure I'm right now. Big swells like they
were, as I've often seen, with tip-top carriages and horses, wouldn't
coin their own gold even if they'd got a mine. They're a gang of
coiners, sir, and so you'll see. Got one of the sovs., sir?"
"No."
"Then take one of those little bars, and have that examined."
The superintendent picked up one of the ingots, looked at it intently
and shook his head.
"Ah, you can't tell by that, sir," said his subordinate. "I say, look,
sir; they've had the electric light. I wonder where they turn it on."
The place was soon found, the stud pressed, and about a dozen glass
bulbs shed a beautifully soft light through the arched place.
"Good gold; a big sum of money in ingots, my lad," said the inspector,
jingling two bars together and producing a musical sound. "Here, stop!
I must have all these in that strong closet before we go--and double my
sentries," he muttered. "Why, there must be thousands of pounds' worth
lying here."