that I had under my vigilant eye at that time a man who was concerned in
getting up a forgery. In the course of my watch I saw letters passing to
and from the secretary's office of an important railway. It was no part
of my business to report the circumstance. To have done so might have
spoiled the game I was playing; so I took no notice, or rather made no
sign. In less than a week after the delivery of the last letter, about
six o'clock in the evening, my plot was ripe, and I seized my man.
Extraordinary inadvertence, and wonderful care! He had destroyed one
link in the chain I was constructing with his own unconscious aid, but
he had preserved one link in another chain of equal value and utility to
his other foes. On his person I found a note, in cipher it is true, but
written on paper which had an impression of one of the company's seals.
The cipher was, moreover, not so very hard to decipher. A friend, to
whose skill I paid a deserved compliment in my former volume, soon
unravelled that mystery.
Would the reader like to guess what the letter contained? It was a
transcript in cipher of the minute of the board in relation to that case
of damage and compensation! A confederate of the gang, or at least one
of its spies, actually held a confidential situation in the secretary's
office, so near to the heart of the company's innermost secrets that he
could copy the minutes from the book in which their resolutions were
recorded. It was under this guidance the plaintiff instructed the
attorney, employed by the gang for that action, to take his stand upon
800_l._ precisely, and it was through this infamous betrayal of the
company's confidence that the plunderers got the money.
Of course I now handed the document over to the company. The money had,
however, been paid. My prisoner was found guilty on another charge, so
that it was not requisite to prosecute _him_ for the railway fraud. The
clerk was also not prosecuted. He escaped that fate under the shelter of
his respectable connexions. He solemnly assured the directors that he
had not participated in the plunder, that the forger was not one of his
regular associates, that he had learned the cipher, but as an amusement,
playfully, and that he merely told him the effect of the board's
resolution in order that he might induce his friend, the plaintiff (who
he supposed had been indeed hurt), not to persist in his excessive
demand. The directors believed, or affected to believe, this story.
Perhaps they did not like it to transpire that fraud and villany had
nestled in their head-quarters, and so near to the very centre of their
administration. However that may have been, I know that they
reprimanded, censured, and dismissed the clerk, and that they abstained
from his prosecution.
When this young gentleman, who had copied the minute, was discharged,
the company imagined no doubt that they had weeded out the fraudulent
elements which tainted their confidence. How great their mistake was
will now appear. The matter I am about to speak of occurred only about
twelve months after the episode just narrated.
It so happened that, at the date of this grand "plant," a clerk attached
to the chief cashier's office, whose duty it was to convey the wages
down the main line, had arranged to take his annual month's holiday and
to start on Friday--the day on which he had always delivered out the
money.
"What is to be done about the wages, sir, this week?" the clerk inquired
of the chief cashier.
"Oh, that's easily managed, Wilson," replied that gentleman; "you must
pay on Thursday."
"Thank you, sir. But shall I telegraph to the stations and tell them we
pay this week on Thursday?"
"That may be as well, Wilson," added the chief cashier.
Now, whether any message was handed to the telegraph-clerk by Wilson, or
not, is a mystery yet unsolved. He says that he did so. The
telegraph-clerk says he did not. Between these conflicting statements
there hangs a painful suspicion to this day. It would seem only probable
that the liar was a confederate of the gang, but that is not a certain
inference. The written message may have been handed by Wilson to one of
his fellow-clerks in the chief cashier's office, in a confusion or
excitement resulting from his impending holiday; or it may have been
inadvertently placed aside by the telegrapher, and one of his associates
may have destroyed it in order to favour the criminal enterprise which
its suppression (from whatever cause arising) did render possible.
The board of directors could not, and perhaps could not be reasonably
expected to judge between the conflicting declarations of the two
clerks, so they dismissed both from their situations, and thought they
had done all which impartial justice and their duty to the shareholders
required.
The only certain fact is a negative one. The telegraphic message was not
sent. The wages were looked for, and looked for in vain, on the Friday.
Wilson, laden with a good round sum of money, went down the line on
Thursday, as he had arranged with his chief. He went, as ill luck would
have it, according to his promise in the telegram, by an afternoon
express, and, as if the elements favoured the fraud, a heavy autumnal
mist, nearly amounting to a fog, lasted during the whole of his journey;
although I don't know that events would have taken any other form or
colour if the day had been distinguished by sunshine.
As Wilson approached each station the train slackened speed, according
to usage when he travelled by it on such an errand, and he put out his
head from the carriage in which he enjoyed a separate compartment. As
soon as it appeared he was greeted by a friend--or at least some one who
knew his features very well.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson. You're early this week. Never too soon to
take money. Hope you'll enjoy your holiday, Mr. Wilson."
These sentences embody the pleasant wishes of his quondam friends, and
with slight variations confirm the letter, as well as the substance, of
all the greetings he received.
As each friend so greeted the clerk he took the money designed for a
particular station, and in double quick time the train was again in
motion.
In some cases the train didn't stop at all. The money was dropped out
much in the way that mail bags are dropped; an attendant being on this
Thursday, as on previous Fridays, in readiness to meet the expected
boon.
At one station--it was a large station--a man, who was there patiently
waiting to receive the cash from Mr. Wilson, was disappointed. An old
acquaintance caught a glimpse of the cash-clerk as the train slackened
speed.
After a moment's shaking of hands Wilson offered the station-clerk the
money.
"Here it is," said Wilson.
"What?" inquired the other.
"The screw."
"It's only Thursday."
"Yes; I'm off to-morrow for my holiday."
"Oh! very well. It's just as welcome to-day as to-morrow, I dare say;
but why didn't you say you were coming to-day? 'Pon my word, I wasn't
looking out for you; and what an awful lark it would have been if you
had had to take the money back to London!"
"I did telegraph on Monday."
"The d--l you did! The gaffer never told me any thing about it. It's
just like him; but never mind, I'm mum about his carelessness. He's a
good sort."
The train moved on again, and the expectant thief went empty away.
From another station the money was lost. That is to say, it reached
neither the hands for which it was intended by the company's cashier,
nor those who laid a plan to divert it into other channels. It went in a
direction that neither party contemplated.
The train did not stop at this station, and a man was there to receive
the money, but his movements had, he thought, been noticed. He was
cautious--perhaps needlessly timid. He thought that as the train
approached two faces were peering at him from the station-master's
office. So he turned, went into the station, asked when the next
down-train which stopped at that station would arrive, and sneaked away.
Wilson arrived at this station in due course, and saw what he took to be
a man in waiting for him. Unluckily the wheels did not properly bite the
rails, owing to the damp and their slipperyness, so that he had not
sufficient time for observation, although the condition of the
atmosphere rendered careful notice doubly requisite. Into the hands, as
he supposed, of the official in waiting, the incautious (and I think I
must, after all fair allowances, say very negligent) clerk dropped his
packet, which lay there unnoticed until morning.
An old man and woman, passengers by the market train, then saw it,
picked it up, took it home, said nothing, but inserted it in a hole up
the cottage chimney for a long while; after which they informed the
parson of the parish that an uncle of the husband's mother had sent this
money to them. It was the amount of a legacy. The clergyman thought it
remarkable that this money should be received abruptly, without his
knowing a word about any previous correspondence with lawyers; but the
parson was not a suspicious man, and he made no inquiries.
The sum, although not large (only about 53_l._), was very much more than
the usual weekly apportionment to the station where it was dropped. The
wages there were not more than 8_l._ per week. There was, however, a sum
due from the company to a cattle-dealer, as compensation for the
unpublished destruction of a part of his freight; and this was forwarded
along with the wages to the station-master, with strict directions about
the form of the receipt he was to take for it.
The clergyman advised that the money should be laid out under the
guidance of Messrs. Seal and Delivery, highly respectable solicitors in
the neighbouring town of H----. He gave an introduction to those
gentlemen by a letter, which explained the matter as it had been
explained to him; and this introduction, and his explanation, saved all
inquiries as to the source of the funds, which they profitably invested
for the childless couple, who will never enjoy a penny of it.
The two miscarriages I have mentioned were the only failures of the plan
of the gang to capture one whole week's wages throughout the line of the
Great ---- Railway Company.
Next day (Friday) Mr. Wilson went on his holiday trip to Paris. The
company's servants were expecting him, as usual--except at the one
station to which a misadventure had taken the money intended for its
use. It is needless to say that no Mr. Wilson and no money reached
either of these places from London, as expected. Until rather late in
the afternoon, when the chief cashier's office was closed, and that
exalted functionary and all his clerks had gone home, nothing was said
about the affair. It had not indeed until then become very remarkable;
but as soon as the fact became the subject of particular notice, it rose
to the magnitude of a grievance, and threatened to become a scandal.
"We've had no money, and ain't likely to get none till to-morrow," said
a porter at one of the extremest stations to the guard of an up-train.
"Oh, bosh; don't come that, you know. I sha'n't lend you another
shilling in a hurry," retorted the guard, who had two days before lent
that small amount to the friendly porter.
"'Pon my soul, we ain't," rejoined the porter; and he appealed to his
fellow-servants for a corroboration, which they supplied.
"It will be all right to-morrow," said the guard. "I suppose the chief
cashier has got a headache and hasn't been to the office, or Wilson has
got the belly-ache, or some fine thing or other. Well, it's lucky for me
my old woman isn't without a pound; so she can go to market, if we are
as bad off at our station as you are here; and I suppose we're all in
the same pickle."
The porters were less philosophical. All their domestic and personal
arrangements were planned on the theory of a week's wages on Friday, and
no other day. The wives might have been allowed to postpone the purchase
of the Sunday joint and the rest of the needful week's supply of
provision, but every man had engagements which could not be so easily
deferred. Every Friday night the porters assembled at a "public" to
spend a convivial hour. Was this enjoyment to be sacrificed, or even
postponed? It was more than human nature, cast in the railway-porter
mould, could endure without protests as loud as they were deep. Were
they to be laughed at, and jeered at, and told that the company was
insolvent, that their masters couldn't pay their wages? It was too bad.
Hadn't they feelings as well as a secretary, or a general manager, or a
director, or the chairman of a board? That was what they would like to
know. They meant to say it was shameful, scandalous, atrocious, and
abominable, and worthy of harsher terms of description. This is not only
what they meant to say, it is what they did say.
During the night the news had circulated up and down the line, and over
all its tributaries. In the morning it was known to the secretary and
the chief cashier. The circumstances of the case were so peculiar, that
these leading functionaries did not feel themselves competent to deal
with it. The secretary hastened to confer with the chairman of the
board, who again consulted two of his colleagues, who happened to be in
Town, and, in consequence, certain steps were taken.
In the first place a cheque was drawn upon the company's bankers for the
amount they had been robbed of--exactly 2310_l._ 18_s._ 6_d._; and a
clerk was despatched to all the stations for the satisfaction and
comfort of all the indignant servants, who had now grown clamorous for
their wages.
Wilson's conduct was the topic of serious consideration. Could he have
run away with the money? How could the robbery have been effected
without his participation or connivance? What was his previous
character? What sort of references did he bring to the company when he
first entered its service, now five years ago? The latter questions were
answered satisfactorily; the former were not. The chief cashier echoed a
general opinion when he declared that he did not think Wilson capable of
such a villanous and wholesale robbery. Yet the chairman of the board
and the secretary did not see how the thing could have been perpetrated
without his connivance, or, they thought, indeed without his active
participation. They asked again and again, How could it have been done
in despite of his vigilance? They searched the papers, and examined the
"Clerks' Reference Book" to see what sort of references he gave when
engaged as one of their servants. Nothing could be more satisfactory
than these. Their distinctness, emphasis, and verisimilitude were, it
would seem, an adequate guarantee for his fidelity in any place. Yet
again and again these very inquiries landed them upon the question, How
could it have happened without at least his connivance? His mode of
life, his habits, and his manners, conversation, tone of thought, and
known tastes, were repugnant to the theory of his criminality. Yet
again, here the chairman of the board ventured to say that he had heard
of rascals who covered the most nefarious designs, and even found their
opportunities for the commission of crime, in the well-sustained outward
show of virtue. He was absolutely sure that that fellow Wilson was at
the bottom, if not also at the top, of the crime.
The solicitors to the company were instructed to take such steps as they
might think fit in the case. They consulted me, and I gave it as my
decided opinion that the facts were as consistent with the innocence of
the clerk as with his guilt. This was a view of the matter which had not
occurred to the solicitors. Lawyers have a kind of second instinct,
which always makes them lean to the dark side of conduct and of events.
Of criminal lawyers this is especially true. A regular Old-Bailey
practitioner cannot understand a theory of innocence. It would be far
more easy to convince any judge or jury of the guiltlessness of an
accused man or woman, than it would that able and accomplished gentleman
with the hooked nose and guttural voice, who is known as the "thieves'
attorney-general," in the City of London. But what does he care about
the guilt or innocence of his clients? Literally nothing. Under the
genial influence of a fee, he will speak as eloquently (in his own and
in some other person's opinion) and contend as loudly that his client is
really guiltless, whether he be so or not. If any thing, as he has often
had occasion to say, he likes to have a confession of crime from the
accused, because then he knows that the client is not humbugging him; he
relies upon a knowledge of the worst; he is sure that no facts are being
concealed from him; and he can tell how far it is safe to carry his
objurgations or his cross-examination of witnesses. The company's
solicitors were, it is true, not men of this precise stamp. Still, they
had in their professional career seen so very much of the corrupt and
evil in mankind, and so very little of the higher traits of human
nature, that they were always ready to accept unfavourable hypotheses in
explanation of human conduct, and slow to receive opposite theories in
their place. They were hard to convince that Wilson _might_ be innocent
of all participation in the robbery. At length, however, after carefully
weighing all the reasons I advanced against the immediate arrest and
accusation of the clerk, they admitted it was just possible that he did
not aid the conspirators and thieves otherwise than by his gross and
culpable negligence.
I speedily ascertained how and where Wilson intended to spend his
holiday. It was arranged that I should follow him. If, when I overtook
him, he consented to return with me, I was not to legally arrest him.
In case he should, however, refuse, or manifest any decided
unwillingness to return, warrants for his seizure in Paris and his
rendition were procured, and placed in the hands of an ordinary
detective officer, who accompanied me, and had instructions to obey my
directions.
Thus armed, we proceeded to Paris. To discover the suspected clerk was
not difficult. It was one of the easiest tasks I ever had allotted me. I
found out the hotel he put up at. He was not in when we arrived there,
somewhat early in the evening. I left my companion with the warrants at
the hotel, while I went further, in quest of Mr. Wilson.
I had a special motive for this part of my little arrangement. I did not
think my man would return during my absence from the hotel. I thought it
most likely--as I knew my way about Paris, was acquainted with the
institutions of the gay capital, knew I could get aid from the French
police in my search, and for other reasons--that I should bring Mr.
Wilson back to the hotel, a prisoner in fact, although under no formal
detention. In case I did not discover him out of doors, I resolved to
return alone to the hotel in good time--in all likelihood to meet him
there. I wanted to have the first word with him, and, if I could, to
have that word in the absence of my fellow-traveller, clothed with so
much authority.
And why, the reader may ask, did you want to take this advantage of the
law's proper servant or officer? I did not want any such advantage. I
would have given him an advantage, which might have served his turn at
Scotland Yard, if I could have done so with what I considered fairness
towards the suspected. I did not wish the circumstances of his arrest to
prejudice him with his masters, and it might have been before a criminal
tribunal. My experience of human nature and of society had suggested to
me that this young man might perhaps, when so far from the scene of his
labours, beyond, as he supposed, the eyes and ears of his employers, and
in a holiday mood, visit some places, not thought proper places by many
right-minded folks, of whom I am, at least in this respect, one. As I
felt that the weight of suspicion, before evidence of guilt, already
bore with undue force upon the clerk, I thought it wrong to let the
weight of another element (however fair in itself) be added to the
burden of prejudice. If I had then been, as I have on other occasions
often been, employed to watch leisure movements and scan the holiday
pursuits of a clerk, so that his masters might by my report determine
whether or not he were fit to hold a position of trust, I should have
had no desire to screen the incidents of Mr. Wilson's visit to Paris.
Here I saw or thought I saw it my duty to bring him back to London, in
order that he might render such explanations as he could about a
particular crime. To do this effectually, I argued that it was
desirable, for his sake truly, but also for the interests of justice,
that he should encounter no prejudice which the clerks' reference book,
his antecedents, and his general conduct did not warrant. This, I hope
the reader will see, was but an act of simple justice to the suspected.
Let me add, that I foresaw, if the clerk were really innocent, but if
prejudice led to his wrongful arrest, the true culprits would have had
an effective warning to destroy any clue while their pursuers were on
the wrong track. Whatever the reader may think, I am candid enough to
say, will not alter my conviction that I acted so far prudently and
justly.
I found Wilson, costumed a little _outre_, in a "fast" dancing-room of
the French capital. A gendarme pointed him out as a new arrival. An
inspection of my photograph satisfied me of his identity.
I accosted him as "Mr. Wilson?"
"That's my name."
"I know it perfectly well. I want to speak with you."
"Who are you? What's your name? What have you got to say to me?"
"If you step aside to the other end of the gallery, and leave this
pretty little lady here, I'll tell you."
"You be--"
I stopped the remainder of the sentence by a look which terrified him.
I whispered in his ear that I wanted him, and should, if he did not obey
me, call upon the police, who were in force in and about this haunt of
folly and vice, to arrest him, on a charge of robbing his employers,
the ---- Railway Company, of 2310_l._ 18_s._ 6_d._; but that if he
followed me back to his hotel, and from thence to London, he would have
an opportunity of rendering any explanation of the case which lay in his
power.
He extricated himself from his frail companion, and we proceeded
together to the end of the gallery, where conversation, unheard by the
disinterested, was possible; and I told him in greater detail the
circumstances of the robbery. He naturally denied all knowledge of the
affair; said he was entirely unable to account for it; and, although it
was plain to see the terror inspired by a bare suspicion against him, he
expressed an ardent wish to return with me to England, and lend all the
assistance he could in the discovery of the culprits.
I explained my reasons for not allowing my friend with the warrants to
arrest Wilson. He was very grateful. I told him that if he followed me
out I would allow him to make his way, under my eye, to one of the least
objectionable of the cafés on the Boulevards, where I should take him
into my custody. The poor wretch was glad enough to avail himself of
this privilege.
I telegraphed my success that night. By an early train next morning we
took our journey homewards, and arrived in London the same evening in
due course. Mr. Wilson consented to become my guest for the evening, and
until either the stress of duty compelled me to hand him over to the
police, or I had the pleasure of announcing that he was no longer under
restraint.
The day after my return to London there was a solemn conference at the
head-quarters of the ---- Railway. That august assembly, the board, had
been hastily convened, and had a special meeting. The whole matter was
investigated by the light of facts now within the knowledge of its
officers and advisers. Other minor and auxiliary conferences were held
in ante-rooms between myself and the leading partner of the firm who
enjoyed the lucrative and honourable appointment of solicitors to the
company. The results of the whole deliberations put together were, a
resolution not to prosecute the suspected clerk, because there was not
enough evidence at hand to warrant a conviction; and another resolution,
that as there was more than enough evidence to justify a strong
suspicion of his complicity in the affair--as there was abundant proof
of gross negligence--the clerk Wilson should be dismissed.
One victim not being sufficient to compensate for the loss of so much
money, the two other clerks--one in the chief cashier's and one in the
telegraph department--were also deprived of their situations.