“ARCHER PLANTS STUFF”
Willis’s chief at the Yard was not a little impressed by his
subordinate’s story. He congratulated the inspector on his discovery,
commended him for his restraint in withholding action against Archer
until he had identified his accomplices, and approved his proposals for
the further conduct of the case. Fortified by this somewhat unexpected
approbation, Willis betook himself forthwith to the headquarters of the
Customs Department and asked to see Hilliard.
The two men were already acquainted. As has been stated, the inspector
had early called at Hilliard’s rooms and learned all that the other
could tell him of the case. But for prudential reasons they had not met
since.
Hilliard was tremendously excited by the inspector’s news, and eagerly
arranged the interview with his chief which Willis sought. The great
man was not engaged, and in a few minutes the others were shown into
his presence.
“We are here, sir,” Willis began, when the necessary introductions had
been made, “to tell you jointly a very remarkable story. Mr. Hilliard
would doubtless have told you his part long before this, had I not
specially asked him not to. Now, sir, the time has come to put the
facts before you. Perhaps as Mr. Hilliard’s story comes before mine in
point of time, he should begin.”
Hilliard thereupon began. He told of Merriman’s story in the Rovers’
Club, his own idea of smuggling based on the absence of return cargoes,
his proposition to Merriman, their trip to France and what they learned
at the clearing. Then he described their visit to Hull, their
observations at the Ferriby wharf, the experiment carried out with the
help of Leatham, and, finally, what Merriman had told him of his second
visit to Bordeaux.
Willis next took up the tale and described the murder of Coburn, his
inquiries thereinto and the identification of the assassin, and his
subsequent discoveries at Ferriby, ending up by stating the problem
which still confronted him, and expressing the hope that the chief in
dealing with the smuggling conspiracy would co-operate with him in
connection with the murder.
The latter had listened with an expression of amazement, which towards
the end of the inspector’s statement changed to one of the liveliest
satisfaction. He gracefully congratulated both men on their
achievements, and expressed his gratification at what had been
discovered and his desire to co-operate to the full with the inspector
in the settling up of the case.
The three men then turned to details. To Hilliard’s bitter
disappointment it was ruled that, owing to his being known to at least
three members of the gang, he could take no part in the final scenes,
and he had to be content with the honor of, as it were, a seat on the
council of war. For nearly an hour they deliberated, at the end of
which time it had been decided that Stopford Hunt, one of the Customs
Department’s most skillful investigators, should proceed to Hull and
tackle the question of the distribution of the brandy. Willis was to go
to Paris, interest the French authorities in the Bordeaux end of the
affair, and then join Hunt in Hull.
Stopford Hunt was an insignificant-looking man of about forty. All his
characteristics might be described as being of medium quality. He was
five feet nine in height, his brown hair was neither fair nor dark, his
dress suggested neither poverty nor opulence, and his features were of
the type known as ordinary. In a word, he was not one whose appearance
would provoke a second glance or who would be credited with taking an
important part in anything that might be in progress.
But for his job these very peculiarities were among his chief assets.
When he hung about in an aimless, loafing way, as he very often did, he
was overlooked by those whose actions he was so discreetly watching,
and where mere loafing would look suspicious, he had the inestimable
gift of being able to waste time in an _affairé_ and preoccupied
manner.
That night Willis crossed to Paris, and next day he told his story to
the polite chief of the French Excise. M. Max was almost as interested
as his English _confrère_, and readily promised to have the French end
of the affair investigated. That same evening the inspector left for
London, going on in the morning to Hull.
He found Hunt a shrewd and capable man of the world, as well as a
pleasant and interesting companion.
They had engaged a private sitting-room at their hotel, and after
dinner they retired thither to discuss their plan of campaign.
“I wish,” said Willis, when they had talked for some moments, “that you
would tell me something about how this liquor distribution business is
worked. It’s outside my job, and I’m not clear on the details. If I
understood I could perhaps help you better.”
Hunt nodded and drew slowly at his pipe.
“The principle of the thing,” he answered, “is simple enough, though in
detail it becomes a bit complicated. The first thing we have to
remember is that in this case we’re dealing, not with distillers, but
with rectifiers. Though in loose popular phraseology both businesses
are classed under the term ‘distilling,’ in reality there is a
considerable difference between them. Distillers actually produce the
spirit in their buildings, rectifiers do not. Rectifiers import the
spirit produced by distillers, and refine or prepare it for various
specified purposes. The check required by the Excise authorities is
therefore different in each case. With rectifiers it is only necessary
to measure the stuff that goes into and comes out of the works. Making
due allowance for variation during treatment, these two figures will
balance if all is right.”
Willis nodded, and Hunt resumed.
“Now, the essence of all fraud is that more stuff goes out of the works
than is shown on the returns. That is, of course, another way of saying
that stuff is sold upon which duty has not been paid. In the case of a
rectifying house, where there is no illicit still, more also comes in
than is shown. In the present instance you yourself have shown how the
extra brandy enters. Our job is to find out how it leaves.”
“That part of it is clear enough anyway,” Willis said with a smile.
“But brandy smuggling is not new. There must surely be recognized ways
of evading the law?”
“Quite. There are. But to follow them you must understand how the
output is measured. For every consignment of stuff that leaves the
works a permit or certificate is issued and handed to the carrier who
removes it. This is a kind of way-bill, and of course a block is kept
for the inspection of the surveying officer. It contains a note of the
quantity of stuff, date and hour of starting, consignee’s name and
other information, and it is the authority for the carrier to have the
liquor in his possession. An Excise officer may stop and examine any
dray or lorry carrying liquor, or railway wagon, and the driver or
other official must produce his certificate so that his load may be
checked by it. All such what I may call surprise examinations, together
with the signature of the officer making them, are recorded on the back
of the certificate. When the stuff is delivered, the certificate is
handed over with it to the consignee. He signs it on receipt. It then
becomes his authority for having the stuff on his premises, and he must
keep it for the Excise officer’s inspection. Do you follow me so far?”
“Perfectly.”
“The fraud, then, consists in getting more liquor away from the works
than is shown on the certificates, and I must confess it is not easy.
The commonest method, I should think, is to fill the kegs or
receptacles slightly fuller than the certificate shows. This is
sometimes done simply by putting extra stuff in the ordinary kegs. It
is argued that an Excise officer cannot by his eye tell a difference of
five or six per cent; that, for example, twenty-six gallons might be
supplied on a twenty-five gallon certificate without anyone being much
the wiser. Variants of this method are to use slightly larger kegs, or,
more subtly, to use the normal sized kegs of which the wood at the ends
has been thinned down, and which therefore when filled to the same
level hold more, while showing the same measure with a dipping rod. But
all these methods are risky. On the suspicion the contents of the kegs
are measured and the fraud becomes revealed.”
Willis, much interested, bent forward eagerly as the other, after a
pause to relight his pipe, continued:
“Another common method is to send out liquor secretly, without a permit
at all. This may be done at night, or the stuff may go through an
underground pipe, or be hidden in innocent looking articles such as
suitcases or petrol tins. The pipe is the best scheme from the
operator’s point of view, and one may remain undiscovered for months,
but the difficulty usually is to lay it in the first instance.
“A third method can be used only in the case of rectifiers and it
illustrates one of the differences between rectifiers and distillers.
Every permit for the removal of liquor from a distillery must be issued
by the excise surveyor of the district, whereas rectifiers can issue
their own certificates. Therefore in the case of rectifiers there is
the possibility of the issuing of forged or fraudulent certificates. Of
course this is not so easy as it sounds. The certificates are supplied
in books of two hundred by the Excise authorities, and the blocks must
be kept available for the supervisor’s scrutiny. Any certificates can
be obtained from the receivers of the spirit and compared with the
blocks. Forged permits are very risky things to work with, as all
genuine ones bear the government watermark, which is not easy to
reproduce. In fact, I may say about this whole question of liquor
distribution generally, that fraud has been made so difficult that the
only hope of those committing it is to avoid arousing suspicion. Once
suspicion is aroused, discovery follows almost as a matter of course.”
“That’s hopeful for us,” Willis smiled.
“Yes,” the other answered, “though I fancy this case will be more
difficult than most. There is another point to be taken into
consideration which I have not mentioned, and that is, how the
perpetrators of the frauds are going to get their money. In the last
resort it can only come in from the public over the counters of the
licensed premises which sell the smuggled spirits. But just as the
smuggled liquor cannot be put through the books of the house selling
it, so the money received for it cannot be entered either. This means
that someone in authority in each licensed house must be involved. It
also carries with it a suggestion, though only a suggestion, the houses
in question are tied houses. The director of a distillery company would
have more hold on the manager of their own tied houses than over an
outsider.”
Again Willis nodded without replying, and Hunt went on:
“Now it happens that these Ackroyd & Holt people own some very large
licensed houses in Hull, and it is to them I imagine, that we should
first direct our attention.”
“How do you propose to begin?”
“I think we must first find out how the Ferriby liquor is sent to these
houses. By the way, you probably know that already. You watched the
distillery during working hours, didn’t you?”
The inspector admitted it.
“Did you see any lorries?”
“Any number; large blue machines. I noticed them going and coming in
the Hull direction loaded up with barrels.”
Hunt seemed pleased.
“Good,” he commented. “That’s a beginning anyway. Our next step must be
to make sure that all these lorries carry certificates. We had better
begin tomorrow.”
Willis did not quite see how the business was to be done, but he
forbore to ask questions, agreeing to fall in with his companion’s
arrangements.
These arrangements involved the departure from their hotel by taxi at
six o’clock the next morning. It was not fully light as they whirled
out along the Ferriby road, but the sky was clear and all the
indications pointed to a fine day.
They dismounted at the end of the lane leading to the works, and struck
off across the fields, finally taking up their position behind the same
thick hedge from which Willis had previously kept watch.
They spent the whole of that day, as well as of the next two, in their
hiding-place, and at the end of that time they had a complete list of
all lorries that entered or left the establishment during that period.
No vehicles other than blue lorries appeared, and Hunt expressed
himself as satisfied that if the smuggled brandy was not carried by
them it must go either by rail or at night.
“We can go into those other contingencies later if necessary,” he said,
“but on the face of it I am inclined to back the lorries. They supply
the tied houses in Hull, which would seem the obvious places for the
brandy to go, and, besides, railway transit is too well looked after to
attract the gang. I think we’ll follow this lorry business through
first on spec.”
“I suppose you’ll compare the certificate blocks with the list I made?”
Willis asked.
“Of course. That will show if all carry certificates. But I don’t want
to do that yet. Before alarming them I want to examine the contents of
a few of the lorries. I think we might do that tomorrow.”
The next morning, therefore, the two detectives again engaged a taxi
and ran out along the Ferriby road until they met a large blue lorry
loaded with barrels and bearing on its side the legend “Ackroyd & Holt
Ltd, Licensed Rectifiers.” When it had lumbered past on its way to the
city, Hunt called to the driver and ordered him to follow it.
The chase led to the heart of the town, ending in a street which ran
parallel to the Humber Dock. There the big machine turned in to an
entry.
“The Anchor Bar,” Hunt said, in satisfied tones. “We’re in luck. It’s
one of the largest licensed houses in Hull.”
He jumped out and disappeared after the lorry, Willis following. The
vehicle had stopped in a yard at the back of the great public house,
where were more barrels than the inspector ever remembered having seen
together, while the smell of various liquors hung heavy in the air.
Hunt, having shown his credentials, demanded the certificate for the
consignment. This was immediately produced by the driver, scrutinized,
and found in order. Hunt then proceeded to examine the consignment
itself, and Willis was lost in admiration at the rapidity as well as
the thoroughness of his inspection. He tested the nature of the various
liquids, measured their receptacles, took drippings in each cask, and
otherwise satisfied himself as to the quality and quantity. Finally he
had a look over the lorry, then expressing himself satisfied, he
endorsed the certificate, and with a few civil words to the men in
charge, the two detectives took their leave.
“That’s all square anyway,” Hunt remarked, as they reentered their
taxi. “I suppose we may go and do the same thing again.”
They did. Three times more on that day, and four times on the next day
they followed Messrs. Ackroyd & Holt’s lorries, in every instance with
the same result. All eight consignments were examined with the utmost
care, and all were found to be accurately described on the accompanying
certificate. The certificates themselves were obviously genuine, and
everything about them, so far as Hunt could see, was in order.
“Doesn’t look as if we are going to get it that way,” he commented, as
late that second evening they sat once more discussing matters in their
private sitting-room.
“Don’t you think you have frightened them into honesty by our
persistence?” Willis queried.
“No doubt,” the other returned. “But that couldn’t apply to the first
few trips. They couldn’t possibly have foretold that we should examine
those consignments yesterday, and today I expect they thought their
visitation was over. But we have worked it as far as it will go. We
shall have to change our methods.”
The inspector looked his question and Hunt continued:
“I think tomorrow I had better go out to the works and have a look over
these certificate blocks. But I wonder if it would be well for you to
come? Archer has seen you in that hotel lounge, and at all events he
has your description.”
“I shall not go,” Willis decided. “See you when you get back.”
Hunt, after showing his credentials, was received with civility at
Messrs. Ackroyd & Holt’s. When he had completed the usual examination
of their various apparatus he asked for certain books. He took them to
a desk, and sitting down, began to study the certificate blocks.
His first care was to compare the list of outward lorries which he and
Willis had made with the blocks for the same period. A short
investigation convinced him that here also everything was in order.
There was a certificate for every lorry which had passed out, and not
only so, but the number of the lorry, the day and hour at which it left
and the load were all correct so far as his observations had enabled
him to check them. It was clear that here also he had drawn blank, and
for the fiftieth time he wondered with a sort of rueful admiration how
the fraud was being worked.
He was idly turning over the leaves of the blocks, gazing vacantly at
the lines of writing while he pondered his problem when his attention
was attracted to a slight difference of color in the ink of an entry on
one of the blocks. The consignment was a mixed one, containing
different kinds of spirituous liquors. The lowest entry was for three
twenty-five gallon kegs of French brandy. This entry was slightly paler
than the remain order.
At first Hunt did not give the matter serious thought. The page had
evidently been blotted while the ink was wet, and the lower items
should therefore naturally be the fainter. But as he looked more
closely he saw that this explanation would not quite meet the case. It
was true that the lower two or three items above that of the brandy
grew gradually paler in proportion to their position down the sheet,
and to this rule Archer’s signature at the bottom was no exception. In
these Hunt could trace the gradual fading of color due to the use of
blotting paper. But he now saw that this did not apply to the brandy
entry. It was the palest of all—paler even than Archer’s name, which
was below it.
He sat staring at the sheet, whistling softly through his teeth and
with his brow puckered into a frown, as he wondered whether the obvious
suggestion that the brandy item had been added after the sheet had been
completed, was a sound deduction. He could think of no other
explanation, but he was loath to form a definite opinion on such slight
evidence.
He turned back through the blocks to see if they contained other
similar instances, and as he did so his interest grew. Quite a number
of the pages referring to mixed consignment had for their last item
kegs of French brandy. He scrutinized these entries with the utmost
care. A few seemed normal enough, but others showed indications which
strengthened his suspicions. In three more the ink was undoubtedly
paler than the remainder of the sheet, in five it was darker, while in
several others the handwriting appeared slightly different—more
upright, more sloping, more heavily or more lightly leaned on. When
Hunt had examined all the instances he could find stretching over a
period of three months, he was convinced that his deduction was
correct. The brandy items had been written at a different time from the
remainder, and this could only mean that they had been added after the
certificate was complete.
His interest at last keenly aroused, he began to make an analysis of
the blocks in question in the hope of finding some other peculiarity
common to them which might indicate the direction in which the solution
might lie.
And first as to the consignees. Ackroyd & Holt evidently supplied a
very large number of licensed houses, but of these the names of only
five appeared on the doubtful blocks. But these five were confined to
houses in Hull, and each was a large and important concern.
“So far, so good,” thought Hunt, with satisfaction. “If they’re not
planting their stuff in those five houses, I’m a Dutchman!”
He turned back to the blocks and once again went through them. This
time he made an even more suggestive discovery. Only one lorry-man was
concerned in the transport of the doubtful consignments. All the
lorries in question had been in charge of a driver called Charles Fox.
Hunt remembered the man. He had driven three of the eight lorries Hunt
himself had examined, and he had been most civil when stopped, giving
the investigator all possible assistance in making his inspection. Nor
had he at any time betrayed embarrassment. And now it seemed not
improbable that this same man was one of those concerned in the fraud.
Hunt applied himself once again to a study of the blocks, and then he
made a third discovery, which, though he could not at first see its
drift, struck him nevertheless as being of importance. He found that
the faked block was always one of a pair. Within a few pages either in
front of or behind it was another block containing particulars of a
similar consignment, identical, in fact, except that the brandy item
was missing.
Hunt was puzzled. That he was on the track of the fraud he could not
but believe, but he could form no idea as to how it was worked. If he
were right so far, the blocks had been made out in facsimile in the
first instance, and later the brandy item had been added to one of each
pair. Why? He could not guess.
He continued his examination, and soon another interesting fact became
apparent. Though consignments left the works at all hours of the day,
those referred to by the first one of each between the hours of four
and five. Further, the number of minutes past one and past four were
always identical on each pair. That showed the brandy item was nearly
always the later of the two, but occasionally the stuff had gone with
the one o’clock trip.
Hunt sat in the small office, of which he had been given undisturbed
possession, pondering over his problem and trying to marshal the facts
that he had learned in such a way as to extract their inner meaning. As
far as he could follow them they seemed to show that three times each
day driver Charles Fox took a lorry of various liquors into Hull. The
first trip was irregular, that is, he left at anything between
seven-thirty and ten-thirty a.m., and his objective extended over the
entire city. The remaining two trips were regular. Of these the first
always left between one and two and the second the same number of
minutes past four; both were invariably to the same one of the five
large tied houses already mentioned; the load of each was always
identical except that one—generally the second—had some kegs of brandy
additional, and, lastly, the note of this extra brandy appeared always
to have been added to the certificate after the latter had been made
out.
Hunt could make nothing of it. In the evening he described his
discoveries to Willis, and the two men discussed the affair
exhaustively, though still without result.
That night Hunt could not sleep. He lay tossing from side to side and
racking his brains to find a solution. He felt subconsciously that it
was within his reach, and yet he could not grasp it.
It was not far from dawn when a sudden idea flashed into his mind, and
he lay thrilled with excitement as he wondered if at last he held the
clue to the mystery. He went over the details in his mind, and the more
he thought over his theory the more likely it seemed to grow.
But how was he to test it? Daylight had come before he saw his way; but
at last he was satisfied, and at breakfast he told Willis his idea and
asked his help to carry out his plan.
“You’re not a photographer, by any chance?” he asked.
“I’m not A1, but I dabble a bit at it.”
“Good. That will save some trouble.”
They called at a photographic outfitter’s, and there, after making a
deposit, succeeded in hiring two large-size Kodaks for the day. With
these and a set of climbing irons they drove out along the Ferriby
road, arriving at the end of the lane to the works shortly after
midday. There they dismissed their taxi.
As soon as they were alone their actions became somewhat bewildering to
the uninitiated. Along one side of the road ran a seven-foot wall
bounding the plantation of a large villa. Over this Willis, with the
help of his friend, clambered. With some loose stones he built himself
a footing at the back, so that he could just look over the top. Then
having focused his camera for the middle of the road, he retired into
obscurity behind his defences.
His friend settled to his satisfaction, Hunt buckled on the climbing
irons, and crossing the road, proceeded to climb a telegraph pole which
stood opposite the lane. He fixed his camera to the lower
wires—carefully avoiding possible short-circuitings—and having focused
it for the center of the road, pulled a pair of pliers from his pocket
and endeavored to simulate, the actions of a lineman at work. By the
time these preparations were complete it was close on one o’clock.
Some half-hour later a large blue lorry came in sight bearing down
along the lane. Presently Hunt was able to see that the driver was Fox.
He made a prearranged sign to his accomplice behind the wall, and the
latter, camera in hand, stood up and peeped over. As the big vehicle
swung slowly round into the main road both men from their respective
positions photographed it. Hunt, indeed, rapidly changing the film,
took a second view as the machine retreated down the road towards Hull.
When it was out of sight, Hunt descended and with some difficulty
climbed the wall to his colleague. There in the shade of the thick belt
of trees both men lay down and smoked peacefully until nearly four
o’clock. Then once more they took up their respective positions,
watched until about half an hour later the lorry again passed out and
photographed it precisely as before. That done, they walked to Hassle
station, and took the first train to Hull.
By dint of baksheesh they persuaded the photographer to develop their
films there and then, and that same evening they had six prints.
As it happened they turned out exceedingly good photographs. Their
definition was excellent, and each view included the whole of the
lorry. The friends found, as Hunt had hoped and intended, that owing to
the height from which the views had been taken, each several keg of the
load showed out distinctly. They counted them. Each picture showed
seventeen.
“You see?” cried Hunt triumphantly. “The same amount of stuff went out
on each load! We shall have them now, Willis!”
Next day Hunt returned to Ferriby works ostensibly to continue his
routine inspection. But in three minutes he had seen what he wanted.
Taking the certificate book, he looked up the blocks of the two
consignments they had photographed, and he could have laughed aloud in
his exultation as he saw that what he had suspected was indeed the
fact. The two certificates were identical except that to the second an
item of four kegs of French brandy had been added! Hunt counted the
barrels. The first certificate showed thirteen and the last seventeen.
“Four kegs of brandy smuggled out under our noses yesterday,” he
thought delightedly. “By Jove! but it’s a clever trick. Now to test the
next point.”
He made an excuse for leaving the works, and returning to Hull, called
at the licensed house to which the previous afternoon’s consignment had
been dispatched. There he asked to see the certificates of the two
trips. On seeing his credentials these were handed up without demur,
and he withdrew with them to his hotel.
“Come,” he cried to Willis, who was reading in the lounge, “and see the
final act in the drama.”
They retired to their private room, and there Hunt spread the two
certificates on the table. Both men stared at them, and Hunt gave vent
to a grunt of satisfaction.
“I was right,” he cried delightedly. “Look here! Why I can see it with
the naked eye!”
The two certificates were an accurate copy of their blocks. They were
dated correctly, both bore Fox’s name as driver, and both showed
consignments of liquor, identical except for the additional four kegs
of brandy on the second. There was, furthermore, no sign that this had
been added after the remainder. The slight lightening in the color
towards the bottom of the sheet, due to the use of blotting paper, was
so progressive as almost to prove the whole had been written at the
same time.
The first certificate was timed 1.15 p.m., the second 4.15 p.m., and it
was to the 4 of this second hour that Hunt’s eager finger pointed. As
Willis examined it he saw that the lower strokes were fainter than the
remainder. Further, the beginning of the horizontal stroke did not
quite join the first vertical stroke.
“You see?” Hunt cried excitedly. “That figure is a forgery. It was
originally a 1, and the two lower strokes have been added to make it a
4. The case is finished!”
Willis was less enthusiastic.
“I’m not so sure of that,” he returned cautiously. “I don’t see light
all the way through. Just go over it again, will you?”
“Why to me it’s as clear as daylight,” the other asserted impatiently.
“See here. Archer decides, let us suppose, that he will send out four
kegs, or one hundred gallons, of the smuggled brandy to the Anchor Bar.
What does he do? He fills out certificates for two consignments each of
which contains an identical assortment of various liquors. The brandy
he shows on one certificate only. The blocks are true copies of the
certificates except that the brandy is not entered on either. The two
blocks he times for a quarter past one and past four respectively, but
both certificates he times for a quarter past one. He hands the two
certificates to Fox. Then he sends out on the one o’clock lorry the
amount of brandy shown on one of the certificates.”
Hunt paused and looked interrogatively at his friend, then, the latter
not replying, he resumed:
“You follow now the position of affairs? In the office is Archer with
his blocks, correctly filled out as to time but neither showing the
brandy. On the one o’clock lorry is Fox, with one hundred gallons of
brandy among his load. In his pocket are the two certificates, both
timed for one o’clock, one showing the brandy and the other not.”
The inspector nodded as Hunt again looked at him.
“Now suppose,” the latter went on, “that the one o’clock lorry gets
through to its destination unchallenged, and the stuff is unloaded. The
manager arranges that the four kegs of brandy will disappear. He takes
over the certificate which does not show brandy, signs it, and the
transaction is complete. Everything is in order, and he has got four
kegs smuggled in.”
“Good,” Willis interjected.
“On the other hand, suppose the one o’clock trip is held up by an
exciseman. This time Fox produces the other certificate, the one which
shows the brandy. Once again everything is in order, and the Excise
officer satisfied. It is true that on this occasion Fox has been unable
to smuggle out his brandy, and on that which he carries duty must be
paid, but this rare contingency will not matter to him as long as his
method of fraud remains concealed.”
“Seems very sound so far.”
“I think so. Let us now consider the four o’clock trip. Fox arrives
back at the works with one of the two certificates still in his pocket,
and the make up of his four o’clock load depends on which it is. He
attempts no more smuggling that day. If his remaining certificate shows
brandy he carries brandy, if not, he leaves it behind. In either case
his certificate is in order if an Excise officer holds him up. That is,
when he has attended to one little point. He has to add two strokes to
the 1 of the hour to make it into a 4. The ease of doing this explains
why these two hours were chosen. Is that all clear?”
“Clear, indeed, except for the one point of how the brandy item is
added to the correct block.”
“Obviously Archer does that as soon as he learns how the first trip has
got on. If the brandy was smuggled out on the first trip, it means that
Fox is holding the brandy-bearing certificate for the second, and
Archer enters brandy on his second block. If, on the contrary, Fox has
had his first load examined, Archer will make his entry on the first
block.”
“The scheme,” Willis declared, “really means this. If Archer wants to
smuggle out one hundred gallons of brandy, he has to send out another
hundred legitimately on the same day? If he can manage to send out two
hundred altogether then one hundred will be duty clear, but in any case
he must pay on one hundred?”
“That’s right. It works out like that.”
“It’s a great scheme. The only weak point that I can see is that an
Excise officer who has held up one of the trips might visit the works
and look at the certificate block before Archer gets it altered.”
Hunt nodded.
“I thought of that,” he said, “and it can be met quite easily. I bet
the manager telephones Archer on receipt of the stuff. I am going into
that now. I shall have a note kept at the Central of conversations to
Ferriby. If Archer doesn’t get a message by a certain time, I bet he
assumes the plan has miscarried for that day and fills in the brandy on
the first block.”
During the next two days Hunt was able to establish the truth of his
surmise. At the same time Willis decided that his co-operation in the
work at Hull was no longer needed. For Hunt there was still plenty to
be done. He had to get direct evidence against each severally of the
managers of the five tied houses in question, as well as to ascertain
how and to whom they were passing on the “stuff,” for that they were
receiving more brandy than could be sold over their own counters was
unquestionable. But he agreed with Willis that these five men were more
than likely in ignorance of the main conspiracy, each having only a
private understanding with Archer. But whether or not this was so,
Willis did not believe he could get any evidence that they were
implicated in the murder of Coburn.
The French end of the affair, he thought, the supply of the brandy in
the first instance, was more promising from this point of view, and the
next morning he took an early train to London as a preliminary to
starting work in France.