SMITH AND CO. START IN A NEW LINE.
Mr. Edward Marston was taking the air at Dover. He had left town for
the benefit of his health. One morning, walking upon the pier, whom
should he meet but Mr. Brooks, formerly the manager of Smith and Co.
‘Ah, how do you do?’ said Mr. Marston. ‘Staying here?’
‘Yes, for a little while,’ answered Mr. Brooks.
It was quite an accidental meeting, you see; but, having met, what more
natural than that they should take a stroll together.
They strolled down towards the harbour and hired a rowing boat.
‘Want a man?’ asked the boatman.
‘No, thanks,’ answered Mr. Marston. ‘I’ll row myself.’
Mr. Brooks sat in the stern of the boat. Mr. Marston took the sculls
and rowed a little way out.
The sea was calm, and when they were some little distance from the
shore, and the small craft moving about, Marston ceased rowing, let the
boat float, and commenced to converse with his companion.
‘The box was sent off yesterday,’ he said; ‘so that it will be at the
parcels office this afternoon. You had better apply for it at once.’
‘All right; let me thoroughly understand what I have to do.’
‘It’s as simple as A B C,’ answered Marston. ‘Preene has bought for me
five hundred pounds worth of bar gold and sent it down here by rail to
be kept till called for. All bullion comes in special safes, and this
must come that way. When you apply for the box it will be locked up in
the safe and the clerk must get the key. Watch where he gets the key
from.’
‘Yes, that’s all easy enough. What else?’
‘What else? Well, I’m a key-collector, I am, and I’ve a great faney to
have a key the exact pattern of those that open the safes in which the
bullion travels.’
‘You want an impression?’
‘Exactly.’
Mr. Brooks nodded; he quite understood his instructions so far. But he
wanted to know a little more still.
‘And suppose we get an impression and file a key, where are we then?’
he asked, leaning over the boat and paddling with his hand in the
water. ‘There are always people about at the office, and the safes are
always well watched at the stations.’
‘Brooks, you are delightfully innocent. How I envy you that romantic
freshness which becomes you so well!’
‘Stow it, guv’nor,’ said Mr. Brooks, a little nettled. ‘We can’t all be
such swells at the game as you are. I don’t see anything particularly
innocent in what I’ve said.’
‘Don’t be cross, old man; it’s only my chaff. Of course I can’t expect
you to know everything. This is my idea. I’ve invested five hundred in
it, so you may be sure I think it’s a good one. We don’t want to open
the safes at the station. We shall open them in transit.’
Mr. Brooks opened his eyes.
‘How on earth will you do that? Why the safes are carried in the
guard’s van, and they’re locked with patent keys, and they’re weighed
at start and finish.’
‘Oh, you know all about it then?’
‘Of course I do! Lots of us have had an idea of getting at the bullion;
but when we found out the precautions taken, we saw it was impossible.’
‘Impossible to you, said Marston, quietly, ‘but not to me. You do as I
tell you, and leave the rest in my hands. I want your help—that’s why I
told you to meet me here. We did the cheque business well enough
together, and we’ve come out of it safe and sound, with a fair balance,
and the George Smith business was managed A 1.’
‘Wasn’t it prime?’ said Mr. Brooks, with a chuckle. ‘Upon my word, when
I read the evidence, I feel convinced myself that he must be guilty.
Preene did it first class. Is he on this job?’
‘I think he must be,’ answered Marston. ‘His connection with the police
is invaluable. He can always put them on a wrong scent till all’s safe.
Who else will be in it?’
‘Only Heckett and Turvey the guard.’
‘Oh, you’ve got the guard, then?’
‘Yes, he was indispensable. The chance of a cool thousand settled him.
Heckett we can’t do without. None but a professional could do the job
with the safes and the boxes clean enough. Barker, one of the clerks in
the traffic office, is a little bit in the swim. He knows nothing, but
Preene knows something about him, and he’s got orders to do certain
things this afternoon.’
Mr. Brooks was very much interested, and wanted more information, but
Marston told him it would be time enough for further details when the
first stage had been accomplished.
‘It’s no good telling you any more,’ he said, ‘until we’ve got the
keys. Then you shall have the whole plan.’
‘Just one thing more,’ urged Mr. Brooks. ‘What will the job be worth’
‘Unless I can make it a big figure I shan’t touch it,’ answered
Marston. ‘Its my last business transaction previous to retiring into
private life; so I want it to be a profitable one. I shan’t think of
making the attempt till I know that at least £20,000 is going down the
line. That’s a sum that often goes from London to the Continent, and it
is by the Continental mail we shall have to travel whenever the coup
comes off.’
Brooks looked at Marston with such an admiring glance that the latter
couldn’t help laughing.
‘We’d better get ashore,’ he said, presently. ‘You must take plenty of
time, and have everything ready when you apply this afternoon for a box
of bullion as Mr. John Dawson.’
Marston rowed towards the shore, giving his companion a few parting
instructions, and, having landed, they separated. Marston went to the
Lord Warden, where he was staying in first-class style, and Mr. Brooks
walked quietly to his less pretentious but equally comfortable hotel,
the Dover Castle.
All that afternoon Mr. Barker, a clerk in the traffic superintendent’s
office at Dover, rather neglected his business. He had too sharp an eye
on the parcels office to be thinking of anything else.
About three o’clock a train was due in. Just before it arrived an
elderly gentleman stepped into the parcels office and asked if a box of
bullion, forwarded from London to John Dawson, Dover, had arrived.
‘Yes, it has,’ said the clerk.
‘I am Mr. Dawson,’ said the gentleman, handing in a letter from the
sender, advising its despatch to him. ‘I’ll take it, please.’
The clerk went to where the safe stood securely locked. The box of
bullion was inside it.
Keys of these safes are kept at each end. They are locked in London and
unlocked at their destination. The keys themselves are always kept
locked up. Mr. Dawson’s eyes followed the parcels clerk closely as he
went to get the keys.
He opened a small cupboard in the corner of the room and took down the
keys that hung inside it. There were two separate locks to the safe,
for increased security.
He put the two keys into the safe, unlocked it, and withdrew the box of
bullion, and handed Mr. Dawson a receipt to sign.
At that moment, Mr. Barker, the clerk from the traffic superintendent’s
office, called across the station to the parcels clerk, the train came
in, and for a few minutes there was considerable confusion.
Barker had called the clerk out to show him something in the station.
The excuse was prearranged and plausible. In two minutes he was back
again.
Mr. Dawson had signed the receipt. He handed it to the clerk and took
away his box of bullion. He also took away an impression in wax of the
two keys that unlocked the safes which travelled up and down the line
with thousands of pounds worth of gold in them.
Late that evening he had a moonlight stroll along the cliffs and met
Mr. Edward Marston.
‘They were double keys, guv’nor,’ said Mr. Brooks, ‘and it was jolly
sharp work, I can tell you!’
‘And good work,’ answered Marston, approvingly, offering his companion
a cigar. ‘We will go up to town to-morrow and set to work on the keys.
If this comes off right, I think Smith and Co. can divide the profits
and dissolve partnership—eh, Brooks?’
‘You won’t turn the game up for a few thousand, guv’nor—not you!’
‘My dear fellow,’ answered Marston, ‘you forget I am only an amateur. I
simply do this to acquire a modest competency in return for the
expenditure of a little time and considerable talent. If I can put ten
thousand pounds at my banker’s over this affair, I shall marry and
settle down into a quiet, church-going, turnip-growing country
gentleman.’
Brooks laughed at the idea, but Mr. Marston was never more serious in
his life.