A deprecating smile came to the superintendent's lips. Robert Grell was
studying him curiously. He recognised that he owed much to the
blue-eyed, square-faced detective.
"Yes, I think I am at least entitled to that," he echoed.
Foyle gave a shrug. "As you like, gentlemen. You once complained, Sir
Hilary, that I talked like a detective out of a book. This kind of thing
makes me feel like one--except that, in this case, I cannot claim much
credit. I only used common sense and perseverance."
"Let us have it," said Grell. He was beginning to be his own masterful
self.
"Very well. It has all been a matter of organisation. You will remember,
that in dealing with an intricate case no man is at his best working
alone. However able or brilliant a detective is, he cannot
systematically bring off successful coups single-handed--outside a
novel. He is a wheel in a machine. Or perhaps, a better way to put it
would be to say, he is a unit in an army. He is almost helpless alone.
"There are many people who believe that a detective's work is a kind of
mental sleight of hand. By some means, he picks up a trivial clue which
inevitably leads, by some magical process, to the solution of the
mystery. I do not say that deductions are not helpful, but they are not
all. A great writer once compared the science of detection to a game of
cards, and the comparison is very accurate. A good player can judge,
with reasonable certainty, the cards in the hands of each of his
opponents. But he can never be absolutely certain--especially when he is
unacquainted with his opponents' methods of play.
"Detection can never be reduced to a mathematical certainty until you
level human nature, so that every person in the same set of
circumstances will act in exactly the same way. Like doctors, we have to
diagnose from circumstances--and even the greatest doctors are wrong at
times. Specialist knowledge has often to be called in.
"When this case commenced, specialist knowledge had to be enlisted to
fix our facts--and the one general difficulty which arose as always, was
that we did not know which facts might prove important. As an instance,
I may say that the finger-prints on the dagger were wholly misleading,
and might have brought about a miscarriage of justice.
"It was necessary that we should collect every fact we could about the
murder, whether great or small. That was one phase for the investigation
where organisation was necessary. A man working alone would have taken
months, perhaps years, in this preliminary work. Then luck favoured us.
Our records--collected, of course, by organisation--contained a portrait
of a man strikingly like you"--he nodded to Grell--"and a comparison of
finger-prints told us that the dead man was not you, but Harry
Goldenburg.
"Previously, the time of the murder had been fixed by Professor Harding
as between ten and twelve. It was our business to find out who had been
with Harry Goldenburg at that time. Among those persons was the guilty
one."
"I can't see how that helped you at all," said Grell, his brows bent.
"In this way, and as a negative test. The alibi is a commonplace of the
criminal courts. Every person on whom clues might ultimately rest would
be eliminated from the investigation if it could be proved beyond doubt
that they were elsewhere at the time. You must remember, that we had not
only to find the murderer, but to produce evidence that would satisfy a
jury that we were right. But we worked, first of all, from such main
facts as we had. You were missing. Ivan was missing. A mysterious veiled
woman was missing. There was the pearl necklace that you had bought as a
wedding present for Lady Eileen. There was the strange dagger used in
the murder. There was the miniature of Lola on the dead man. These were
the chief heads. There were scores of minor things to be dealt with.
"The matter was complicated, too, by the dead man's clothes. In the
pockets, there were your personal belongings. A natural, but erroneous
assumption was that they were your clothes. There is not much scope for
individuality in evening dress. I confess I was misled and puzzled at
first, but a little thought afforded the explanation, and, in fact, it
would have been cleared up automatically in any event by the examination
of the garments.
"Now, subtlety may be an admirable thing, but it can be overdone. I have
never believed that, because a certain thing seems obvious, it is
necessarily wrong. It was reasonably certain that one, or all of the
missing persons, had knowledge of what had happened. It was extremely
probable that one of them was guilty. Our starting-point was to find
them. That was where organisation came in. The miniature helped me to
bluff Sir Ralph Fairfield into an admission that it was the portrait of
Lola of Vienna, and I purposely showed it to some newspaper men on a
pretext. One of them commented on the likeness to the Princess
Petrovska, who was staying at the Hotel Palatial, and I at once
telephoned to the hotel, and discovered that she was supposed to have
left at ten on the evening of the murder. A reference to the St.
Petersburg police gave us a few more facts about her. She became a
possibility as the veiled visitor.
"The finger-prints on the dagger, although we should have adopted a
different method had we known what we know now, helped us to narrow the
investigation, for they apparently--and actually by luck--settled the
innocence of several people who might have been suspected.
"Lady Eileen Meredith came to me with a story that seemed to implicate
Sir Ralph Fairfield. There seemed just a possibility that she was right,
for I could conceive jealousy might be a motive--though, of course,
there was so far nothing to explain why the master of the house and his
valet should take to flight. I took Sir Ralph's finger-prints by a ruse,
and to me that seemed fairly satisfactory proof that he was not the
man. Of course, I was then presuming that the finger-prints were those
of the murderer.
"Then I received information that Ivan and a man my informant took for
Goldenburg had been seen at Victoria Station on the night of the murder.
I managed to find Ivan and, by a threat, got a partly formed opinion
confirmed. He knew that the murdered man was not Mr. Grell. I took from
him the pearls that were to have formed a wedding present, and let him
go after taking his finger-prints. My idea was to have him watched, for
I felt confident that he was in touch with his master--whom I believed
to be the murderer.
"But it was not enough to follow one line. We used the fact of the
striking similarity of Grell and Goldenburg to advertise for the former
under the name of the latter. The mere fact of throwing the description
broadcast, was calculated to make any attempt to escape more difficult.
Meanwhile, we were making inquiries about every one concerned in the
case by co-operation of foreign police-forces, and particularly with the
help of Pinkerton's agency in the United States. It was all
organisation, you see--the individual counted for little.
"The first attempt to communicate with Fairfield failed, not through the
working of any miracle on our part, but by patient watching. I stole a
note from Fairfield, which gave us something to act upon, in the East
End. Remember, the immediate object of our search was Robert Grell--not
necessarily for the murderer. Do you follow?"
"I think I do," answered Grell. "You wanted, at least, an explanation
from me."
"Precisely. Well, on top of that, we got a typewritten letter, informing
us of the kidnapping of Waverley. That letter was important, for its
contents showed that we were up against people who were absolutely
reckless. We were able to trace, too, a typewriting machine as having
been sold recently to a man named Israel, in Grave Street, There were
finger-prints on the letter, and they corresponded to those on the
dagger. As a matter of fact, I recently found out that the letter had
been written on paper given by you. You had torn a half-sheet from an
old letter, and I can only presume it was one that had been written to
you by Lady Eileen Meredith. For they were her finger-prints.
"We paid a surprise visit to Grave Street, and, although we were unable
to lay our hands on any one of much importance to the investigation, we
hit on the cipher with which it was intended to communicate with your
friends. Now, we had already, as you know, taken every precaution to
stop supplies. It was obvious that, sooner or later, money would be
wanted, and we rigorously watched the persons who were likely to be
applied to. Up to this point, circumstantial evidence pointed clearly to
you"--he nodded towards Grell--"as the murderer.
"Something of the sort happened, for Lola went to Lady Eileen, and we
were able to lay hands on her. But we failed to get her identified as
the veiled woman who had visited the house in Grosvenor Gardens. I will
confess that, at that time, I never had any suspicion that she was the
actual murderess. We had no adequate excuse for detaining her after she
handed the jewels over, with an explanation endorsed by Lady Eileen
Meredith. I had taken her finger-prints, and they did not agree.
"It was palpable that the attempt to baffle us was being shrewdly
organised. I tried a different way of getting information--an attack, so
to speak, by the back door. I enlisted the help of a criminal. He was
acting more or less blindly, but by his help we stopped the burglary
affair that was planned. In the pocket of one of the men we arrested, we
discovered two advertisements, worded so as to convey a cipher key
without exciting suspicion. We had them inserted, and naturally arranged
to keep an eye on the office--for the word to-morrow suggested one to be
inserted the following day.
"There is always wisdom in gaining the confidence of those concerned in
a case if you can. I was trying hard to establish friendly relations
with Lady Eileen and Sir Ralph Fairfield. Each was difficult to handle,
but with Sir Ralph I succeeded to some extent. I used him to try and
learn something from her. She realised that the cipher was known, and
went to the newspaper office to try and stop the insertion of the
advertisement that might enable us to find Grell. Of course she failed,
and we got a message which had been handed in by Petrovska. One of our
men followed her.
"We deciphered the message, and it enabled us to discover your
hiding-place on the river. But the business was muddled, and you got
away. We found the sheath of the knife used in the murder among other
belongings you left behind. By the way, we understand that that dagger
had belonged to Harry Goldenburg--how came it to be lying about your
room?"
Grell shook his head. "That is a mistake. The dagger was mine. It is
possible that he had a similar one."
"Yes, that is possible. But in the event, the point does not matter
much. What was more important was, that we had driven you out of a
secure hiding-place.
"Meanwhile, Pinkerton's had been hard at work on the other side of the
Atlantic, and many episodes of your private life were minutely examined.
Their detectives it was, too, who had discovered that Goldenburg and
Petrovska had in some way been associated with you. What they found out
pointed to blackmail. Here appeared an adequate motive for you to murder
Goldenburg."
Grell tapped impatiently on the table, but did not interrupt. Heldon
Foyle went on.
"We could not blind ourselves to the fact that you were not the type of
man who would commit an ordinary crime under stress of temptation. But
homicide is in a class by itself. You might have committed murder.
Indeed, there was the strongest possible assumption that you had done
so.
"You will observe that there was nothing miraculous in what we did. One
step led to another in natural sequence. On the barge, we got the letter
that led to the tracing of Ivan at the gambling-house in Smike Street.
We knew your finances were cramped. We were, as opportunity offered,
limiting your helpers, so that we might force you to show yourself.
"That is what happened. You went to Sir Ralph Fairfield, and succeeded
in dodging our men--so far. It was Fairfield's servant who gave you
away. He came to Scotland Yard and, in my absence, was taken away by Sir
Ralph. When I returned, I arranged to get Sir Ralph out of his chambers
for a time, sufficient to allow me a talk with his servant. I then
bluffed some idea of your mission out of Sir Ralph. I found you had been
refused money.
"You had already applied once to Lady Eileen Meredith for money. There
seemed a chance that, in your desperate state, you might do so again. I
went to Berkeley Square. Lady Eileen had gone out. I got into her
sitting-room on pretext of waiting for her. On the fire were fragments
of a note from you, and I was able to make clear several words.
"That made me determined to examine her desk. I found a cheque-book, but
the used counterfoils were not in her handwriting, nor did the amounts
and the people to whom they were payable seem those that would be found
in a personal cheque-book of hers. I searched the blotting-pad, and was
able to make out the words Burghley and £200. The assumption I drew from
that was startling enough, but it was still more startling to discover
on the blotting-pad a finger-print which, as far as my recollection
went, corresponded with those on the dagger.
"Up to that moment, the possibility that Lady Eileen might be the guilty
person had not occurred to me. But now a rearrangement of the
circumstances, apart from the finger-print, began to throw a new light
on the matter. It would explain much if you, Mr. Grell, were shielding
Lady Eileen.
"I could think of no motive, however, and resolved to hold the matter
over for the time being. Even if I had good cause for my suspicion, it
was still essential to find you. You obviously held the key to the
mystery.
"We found out that you had met Lady Eileen, and driven to Kingston--not
by shadowing, for our man failed there--but by getting hold of the
cabman who drove you. With the aid of the provincial police, we were
able to trace you to Dalehurst Grange. I feared that you might be on the
alert for any step taken by Mr. Green, and so acted by myself in getting
into the house.
"Your manner, when I confronted you, impressed me favourably. It was not
that of a guilty man. But I could not let an opinion bias me, for, in
spite of everything, you might still have been guilty. There was a great
possibility that you were an accessory.
"One thing struck me. Your walk was uncommonly like that of Harry
Goldenburg. Now, people may be uncommonly like each other in face and
figure and be unrelated. But I have noticed often that little
peculiarities of gait, run through a family. I had thought you might be
a relative of Goldenburg's, but not till that moment did I become
certain of it. You will remember that I put some questions that might
have seemed offensive. I wanted you to lose your temper--it was
conceivable that you might blurt out something.
"I found it very difficult to place Petrovska. While you were asleep, I
thought the matter over and formed an hypothesis. I put several
questions to you later, and found that a woman had visited your house
with Goldenburg. That was Lola Petrovska. Now, if she was not the veiled
woman who came later, who was? For the sake of my theory, I put her as
Lady Eileen.
"Very well. Lola and Goldenburg had visited you together. But she had
assisted you since the murder, and she was hardly likely to do that if
she was on friendly terms with the blackmailer and knew you had killed
him. So it came to my mind that you might have used her in an attempt to
get the compromising letters. And then it occurred as a remote
possibility that she might, after all, be the guilty person, but, to
assume that, it was necessary to explain away the finger-prints--for
they were not hers.
"All this led to the supposition that the dagger had been handled by
some one _after_ the crime. That person must have been Lady
Eileen--therefore she must have been the veiled woman--you see?
"But this was supposition, which a single fresh fact would destroy. I
held on to you, and Lola walked into our trap. An interview with Ivan
cleared up some of the vague points in the story, and confirmed my
theory--you will understand that I was ready to drop it the moment it
failed to fit the facts. Indeed, to make assurance more sure, I sent a
story out to the papers, which I felt sure would convey to Lady Eileen
Meredith that you were in great peril--and which, if she was guilty,
might induce her to confess to save you. It had an effect rather
different to that which I intended.
"Your clumsy attempts to take the guilt on yourself made me more sure
than ever of your innocence. This morning we laid a trap for Lola. She
was suddenly aroused out of her sleep, and I surprised her into what
amounted to an admission of guilt."
Grell rose from his chair with extended hand. "I rather believe that I
have made a fool of myself," he said. "You have done a great deal more
than you adopt credit for. I cannot thank you now, but later--I suppose
I am at liberty now. I must see Ei--Lady Eileen at once."
"You will have to give evidence at the inquest," said Thornton. "That is
all. The step this woman has taken will save us all a great deal of
trouble. Of course, what Mr. Foyle has told you is entirely
confidential."
"Of course."
"Lady Eileen is here, if you would care to see her now," said Foyle.
"Will you come with me?"
Grell followed the superintendent along the corridor. At the door of his
own room, Heldon Foyle stopped and knocked.
"Here you are," he said.
Robert Grell opened the door.
THE END
JOHN FOX, JR'S.
STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS
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[Illustration: The Trail of the Lonesome Pine]
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