II

Here is the case of the bond robbery as it had been presented to Martin

Hewitt that morning, while I was at St. Augustine's Hospital, and as I

learned it from him later. I had been a little puzzled to hear Hewitt

say that the case had seemed so desperately hopeless that he advised the

calling in of the police, because my experience had rather been that it

was Hewitt who was commonly called in--often too late--when the police

were beaten, and I had never before heard of a case in which this order

of things was reversed. It turned out, however, as will be seen, that in

the state of the matter as it first presented itself the only measures

that seemed possible were such as it was in the power of the police

alone to adopt.

Messrs. Kingsley, Bell, and Dalton were an old-established firm of

brokers whose operations were not enormous nor much in the eye of the

public, but who carried on a steady and reputable business in a set of

offices high up in a great building in Broad Street--a building so

large that the notice "Offices to let" was a permanent fixture in the

front porch. The firm's clients were chiefly steady-going investors of

the old-fashioned sort, who wished to avoid all speculative fireworks,

and to deal through a firm whose habits were conformable to their own.

The last Kingsley had left the firm and soon afterward died, some few

years back, and now the head of the firm was Mr. Robert Stanstead Bell,

a gentleman of some sixty years of age. There were a couple of sleeping

partners--relations--but the one other active partner was Mr. Clarence

Dalton, a young man but recently advanced to partnership, and, it was

said, likely to become Mr. Bell's son-in-law whenever the old

gentleman's daughter Lilian should be married.

The steady, even round of business to which Kingsley, Bell, and Dalton,

and their clerks were accustomed was suddenly interrupted by an

appalling loss. It was discovered that bonds were missing from the safe,

bonds to the amount of some £25,000; and whence, how, or when they were

taken was an utter mystery. It was this loss which had occasioned the

urgent message to Hewitt.

When Hewitt reached the spot he was shown at once into an inner office,

where Mr. Bell sat waiting. The old gentleman was in a sad state of

agitation, and it was with some difficulty that Hewitt got from him a

reasonably connected account of the trouble.

"The loss comes at such a time, Mr. Hewitt," the senior partner

explained, "that I don't know but it may ruin us utterly, unless my

clients' property can be recovered. We have had to pay out heavy sums of

late to the representatives of dead or retiring partners, and other

circumstances combine with these to make the matter in this way even

more terribly serious than the very large amount of the loss would seem

to suggest. So I beg you will do what you can."

"That of course," responded Hewitt. "But please tell me, as clearly as

you can, the precise circumstances of the case. Where were the bonds

taken from?"

"This safe," Mr. Bell answered, turning toward a very large and heavy

one, which might almost have been called a small strong room. "They were

kept, together with others, in this box, one of several, as you see. The

box was fastened, like the rest, with a Tripp's patent lever padlock,

the only key of which I kept, together with the key of the safe."

The box indicated was one of ordinary thin sheet iron, japanned

black--something like what is called a deed box.

"The padlock has been broken open, I see," Hewitt observed.

"Yes, but I did that myself this morning. It had been blocked up in some

way, so that the key wouldn't turn--doubtless in order to cause delay

when next the box should come to be opened. As it was I might have

desisted and put off opening it till later, but I had a reason for

wishing to refer at once to a list which was in the box, and so I

decided to break the padlock. It was more difficult than one might

expect, with such a small padlock."

"And then you discovered your loss?"

"Then I discovered the loss, Mr. Hewitt, though it was a mere chance

even then. For see! All the bonds have not been taken, and those left

are placed on the top, while the space below is filled with dummies. I

hardly know why I turned them over--for the list was at the top--but I

did, and then----" Mr. Bell finished with a despairing gesture.

"And this was some time this morning?"

"At about half-past eleven."

"And when did you last open the box before that?"

"Ten days ago at least, I should think--and even then the bonds may have

been gone, for I only opened it to refer to the same list, and I

examined nothing else."

"You say that some bonds are left and others are gone. I presume those

taken are such as would be easy to negotiate, and those left are such as

would be difficult. Is that the fact?"

"Precisely."

"Then the thief evidently knows the ropes, and altogether the matter

would seem awkward. For anything short of ten days, you see, and quite

possibly for even a longer time than that, these bonds have been in the

undisturbed possession of some person who could easily dispose of them,

and would certainly do so without a moment's delay."

Mr. Bell nodded sadly. "Quite true," he said.

"But now tell me a little more. You say you yourself keep the only key

of the padlock, as well as the key of the safe. So that you open the

safe every morning yourself and close it at night?"

"Just so."

"And do you never entrust the keys to anybody else?"

"The key of the safe is on a separate bunch from the key of the box.

This second bunch, with the key of the box, is _always_ in my pocket,

and not a soul else ever touches it. The other bunch, with the outer

key of the safe, I sometimes hand to my partner, or to the head clerk,

Mr. Foster, if something is wanted from the safe when I am busy. Though,

as a rule, the safe door is open so long as I am about the place.

Nothing but the books can be taken out without the use of other keys for

the drawers and boxes, which I keep on the private bunch."

"And would it be possible for anybody--anybody at all, mind--to get at

that private bunch of keys in such a way, for instance, as to be able to

take a wax impression of the key of that bond-box?"

"No, certainly not," Mr. Bell answered with decision. "Certainly not. At

any rate, not in this office," he added.

"Ah, not in this office. Anywhere else?"

"No, nor anywhere else, I should think," the other replied, though this

time a little more thoughtfully. "There's only my own family at home and

the servants and----"

"Anybody who has access to this room of the office?" Hewitt asked

keenly.

Mr. Bell seemed a little startled.

"Why, no," he said, "nobody at home comes to the office--not even a

visitor, except, of course, my junior partner, who visits the room

pretty frequently."

"Very well. You don't remember ever mislaying the keys temporarily, I

suppose, either here or at home?"

"No-o," Mr. Bell replied slowly. "I can't say that I do remember

anything of the sort. No--and I believe I should be sure to remember if

I had."

"Ah! And when you realised your loss what did you do? Told your partner

first, I suppose?"

"No--he doesn't know of the discovery. He went out just before I made

it, and I don't expect him in again to-day." But as Mr. Bell spoke there

grew plain in his face the pallor of a new fear.

Martin Hewitt observed it, but kept his thoughts to himself. "Well," he

said, "you didn't tell your partner. Nor the police?"

"No, Mr. Hewitt. You see, of course, the first thing the police attempt

is to catch and punish the thief, and they make the recovery of the

property a subsidiary object. But for me, Mr. Hewitt, the recovery of

the property, as I have explained, is the one great consideration.

Punish the thief by all means, but first save me from ruin, Mr. Hewitt!

That is why I sent for you; for that, and because I thought it might be

advisable to keep the matter quiet, till you had taken some steps."

"There is something in that consideration, certainly. So you have told

nobody of the loss, except me?"

"Nobody but Foster, my head clerk--an old and faithful servant. It was

he, in fact, who suggested sending for you. As he put it very forcibly,

you can act for _me_ and my interests, while the police act for

themselves, and--very properly, of course, as police--in the interest of

the community."

"Very well. I see you have several clerks in the outer office. Do they

ever come into this room?"

"Never, unless they are sent for."

"If you and your partner were out, and one of the clerks came in

_without_ being sent for, the rest would know it, of course?"

"Certainly."

"I observe three private rooms opening out of this. What are they?"

"This is a sort of extra inner room where I have private interviews with

clients--I was in there with a client for half an hour this morning

before I discovered the loss. The next is a mere little box of a room

where the correspondence clerk sits and works. The other is a larger

place--it is shared between my partner, Mr. Clarence Dalton, and the

head clerk, Mr. Foster."

"Now let me have your broken padlock--and the key. I see you have forced

up the front plate with a screw-driver. I will borrow that

screw-driver, if you please, and force it off completely."

Hewitt's client produced a screw-driver from a drawer, and in a very few

moments the interior of the little padlock lay uncovered. Hewitt

examined the lock attentively for some few minutes, trying the key

several times against the levers. Then he stood up and said--

"Mr. Bell, you have made a mistake. This is not your lock at all!"

"Not my lock!" exclaimed the broker. "What do you mean? I tell you it is

the lock of that box, and I broke it open myself!"

"Yes," answered Hewitt calmly, "it was on that box, and you broke it

open yourself; but all the same it is not your lock. Let me explain.

These are very good little padlocks, with an excellent lever action,

'dogged against detent,' as the technical phrase goes; so that only the

key properly made for each lock will open it. They are so good, indeed,

as locks, that it would be a waste of time to try picking them, when,

because of their small size, it is so very easy to break them apart,

just as you have done yourself, and just as I could probably have done

in half the time, having had rather more experience. Now that is what

has been done with _your_ lock by the person who has your bonds. But of

course a broken lock has one disadvantage as compared with a skilfully

picked lock--it shows at the first glance what has happened. In this

case, Mr. Bell, _your_ lock has been broken and taken away, and the

thief, having first provided himself with another padlock of precisely

the same make and size, has substituted _that_, locked it with its

proper key and so left it!"

"What! Then that was why----"

"That, of course, was why you supposed it to be out of order when you

attempted to open it with _your_ key. As a matter of fact, it is even

now in perfectly good order, except for the damage we have jointly

committed with the screw-driver. And now, observe! That lock was shut by

another key; if the man that did that is as sharp as I suppose he is, he

will have got rid of that key at once. But perhaps he hasn't; and if

not, then the man who has that key is the thief. At any rate, the key is

the clue we must hunt for. Let us have your clerks in one by one, and

look at their keys. Some are out at lunch by this time, probably?"

"No--I said they might be wanted, so kept them. I thought you might

prefer to see them before they went out."

"Very well thought of, but perhaps scarcely judicious, on the whole.

Because if there _is_ a guilty person among them it may give him a

hint; and the odds are rather against its being very useful, considering

the possibility--even probability--that the bonds and the collateral

evidence left here days ago. But we'll look at their keys, by all means,

and then they may go to lunch as soon as you please. Let me do the

talking, or perhaps you'll start a scare. Send for the nearest clerks

first, then the others. As each comes in, mention his name, so that I

can hear it. Say, 'Oh, Mr. Brown'--or Jones, or what not--'have you some

keys about you?' Don't mention my name, and I will do the rest. Push to

the door of the safe, and lock this drawer in the table."

Mr. Bell did as Hewitt directed, and then called the head clerk, Mr.

Foster, from his room, with the prescribed inquiry about keys.

"Yes, Mr. Foster," Hewitt added pleasantly, "I'm not sure that the lock

is quite in order, but I promised to open it for Mr. Bell, so we'll

try."

Mr. Foster, a slim, active old gentleman, grown grey in the firm's

service, pulled a bunch of keys from his pocket, and Hewitt scrutinised

each narrowly. "No," he said, "I'm afraid none of these will do. Stay,"

he added suddenly, and turning his back, carried the bunch to the

window. "No," he concluded, as he came back to the table and tried one

of the keys fruitlessly. "No, I'm afraid none of those will do. Thank

you, Mr. Foster. You don't happen to have any more, do you?"

No, Mr. Foster hadn't any more, and he retired to his room. Then Mr.

Bell called the correspondence clerk, Mr. Henning. Mr. Henning was a

much younger man than the head clerk--twenty-six or so--pale and

blue-eyed, with weak whiskers and a straggling moustache. His keys were

just as readily produced as Mr. Foster's, but again Hewitt's examination

was unsuccessful. The only other key he had belonged to the typewriter,

and _that_ did not fit.

Then came Mr. Potter, the book-keeper, round, and tubby, and puffy, and

his keys went under inspection in the same way, taking a little longer

this time, with two separate dashes to the light of the window. Then

there was Mr. Robson, young and spruce, Mr. Clancy, older and less tidy,

and four or five more. All the keys were examined, all with the same

lack of success, and all the clerks were sent away to take their turns

at lunch.

"No," Hewitt reported, as soon as he and Mr. Bell were alone again, "it

was certainly none of those keys. Though indeed, my little attempt was

desperate at best. A man would be a fool to keep _that_ key longer than

he needed it, and especially to string it with his others. Still, of

course, it is by just such blunders as that that nine criminals out of

ten are discovered. And now let me take a good look at that box and its

contents."

He lifted the box from the safe to the table, and narrowly scrutinised

its exterior, especially about the hasp, where the padlock had been.

"Either the thief was an experienced hand," he said, "or he took some

steady practice with a few such padlocks as this before setting to work.

There are no signs of banging about or slipping of tools anywhere."

"But, of course, banging or anything violent would have been noticed in

a place like this," Mr. Bell remarked.

"In office hours, yes," responded Hewitt. "But we mustn't forget that

office hours are only seven or eight out of the twenty-four."

"But you don't suspect burglary, do you?"

"I'm afraid, as yet, I've precious little ground for suspecting anything

definite," Hewitt answered; "but we must keep awake to every

possibility. Now let us see the dummies." He turned them over, and

loosened them wherever they were tied. "Yes," he remarked, "quite neatly

done. Filled in with ordinary blank foolscap, such as, no doubt, you

have in your office--but, then, it is in every other office, too; every

stationer has it by the ream. No marks anywhere--no old newspapers,

nothing that could give the shadow of a clue." He dropped the last of

the papers, and turned to his client. "Mr. Bell," he said, "this thing

has been thought out to the last inch. There is something like genius in

this robbery--if genius is the capacity for taking pains. My advice to

you is to call in the Scotland Yard people at once."

"Do you mean you can do nothing?" asked Mr. Bell despairingly. "Don't

tell me that, Mr. Hewitt!"

"No, I don't mean that," Hewitt answered. "I mean that until I have had

time to think the thing over very thoroughly I can't tell what I can or

ought to do. Meantime, I think the police should know; not because I

think they can see farther into the thing than I can--for, indeed, I

don't think they can; but simply because the thief is getting a longer

start every moment, and the police are armed with powers that are not at

my disposal. They can get search warrants, stop people at ports and

railway stations, arrest suspects--do a score of things that will be

necessary. Send to Scotland Yard and get Detective Inspector Plummer, if

he's available--he's as good a man as they have. Tell him that you've

engaged me, or, better still, write a note to the Scotland Yard

authorities, and let me have it, to send or not as I think best, after I

have turned the thing over in my mind. I shall take one good look round

this office, and then run back to my rooms for an hour or two's hard

consideration of whatever I may see. One or two small things I _have_

seen already--though I'd rather not mention them till I've made up my

mind how they bear. Matters seem likely to have gone so far that perhaps

the regular police course of catching the thief first will be the best

plan, if it can be done. Meantime, it will be my business to keep my eye

first on the recovery of the bonds. But I think we must have the police,

Mr. Bell. Now, I'll take my general look round."