THE MORNING AFTER――A VISIT TO LORD ETHALWOOD――THIEVES AND “THIEF
CATCHING.”
Mr. Wrench and his two companions returned to the inn, all the
occupants of which were in a state of alarm. They had no definite
notion of the actual cause of the commotion any further than that some
stranger had been creeping mysteriously through the apartments of the
old hostelry――for what purpose they were at a loss to divine. The
servant girl declared most positively that Mrs. Brickett’s ghost had
paid a visit to the establishment on that eventful night. She was most
positive in her declaration as to this fact, for she saw her with her
own eyes, and nothing in the world should persuade her to the
contrary.
Mr. Wrench and Peace did not contradict this statement; on the
contrary, they affected to believe it, albeit they were well aware
that it was without a shadow of foundation in fact.
None of the occupants of the inn, however, could conceal from
themselves that some secret and mysterious agency had been at work.
Brickett was puzzled――in fact, he was in a state of fog, and could not
see his way at all clearly.
He said, in answer to the detective’s queries, that a dark-looking
man, who was to all appearance a gipsy, had presented himself at the
house just before closing time, and inquired if he could have a bed
for a night or two.
The landlord answered in the affirmative, and the stranger, after
partaking of some refreshment, retired to the room, No. 9, on the
upper floor of the house.
This was all the landlord knew of his customer. He seemed, so Brickett
declared, to be a quiet respectable sort of man enough.
Mr. Wrench did not offer any observations when this information was
given, but he had his suspicions nevertheless.
The whole household had been so disturbed that there was but little
rest for them during the remainder of the night.
The detective and our hero met in the morning, in the club-room, where
they had their morning meal together.
“This has been a planned thing,” said Mr. Wrench to his companion;
“that rascal would not have entered my room――opened the drawer of the
bureau in which the case was deposited, and stolen the same, had he
not been fully aware of both its importance and value. I do much
regret that he was not captured.”
“I think you will act as wisely in keeping the affair as quiet as
possible,” returned Peace. “What possible good could accrue from his
being brought to justice? answer me that. None at all――it would have
only been a needless and unnecessary exposure, at which the earl would
have been greatly mortified.”
“There is some reason in that.”
“Very great reason, I should say――you cannot for a moment suppose that
his lordship would like his private affairs dragged before any court
of law for the sake of a public prosecution. Rest assured, my friend,
that we have acted wisely in letting the rascal go about his business.
In any case, even assuming he had been convicted, blame would attach
itself to you.”
“So it would――I admit that. You take a very sensible view of the
matter. Let the matter blow over, and say as little about it as
possible,” returned Mr. Wrench, with sudden warmth.
“You have shown great wisdom throughout, and I have once more to
return you my most sincere thanks.”
“Oh, there’s no need for that” replied Peace, carelessly. “One thing
is, however, quite certain: the gipsy cove was employed by some one to
abstract the jewellery from the bureau. There could be but ohe object
in this――to remove the traces of identity.”
“I came to that conclusion some hours ago. You are quite right, and we
have had a narrow escape――a very narrow escape,” said Mr. Wrench, with
something like a shudder. “Had they succeeded in carrying it off I
don’t know what would have been the consequence. To me it would have
been most disastrous. I see good reason to be thankful for the issue.
But who could have thrown the paper and stone into your window?”
“I haven’t the faintest notion, but probably I may discover before
very long. Anyway, I shall make inquiries. But for the present I must
bid you good-day, for I have business matters to attend to,” said
Peace, rising from his seat and making towards the door of the
club-room.
“Good day for the present,” returned the detective, and so the two
parted.
In a few minutes after this Henry Adolphus, his lordship’s footman,
presented himself, and informed the detective that the Earl and Mr.
Chicknell were awaiting his appearance at the Hall.
Mr. Wrench lost no time in paying his respects to his two employers.
He made them acquainted with the successful nature of his expedition
to Wood-green, his interview with Mrs. Maitland, and wound up by
producing the trinkets, which had been so miraculously rescued from
the clutches of “Bandy-legged Bill,” the gipsy.
Lord Ethalwood snatched the case and its contents from the officer. He
examined the trinkets, and as he did so a bright flush overspread his
features.
“The very image of the long-lost Aveline!” he exclaimed directing the
lawyer’s attention to the portrait of his daughter. “There can be no
doubt as to the identity.” Then, turning to the detective, he said,
“You have displayed wonderful ability, sir, in the conduct of this
case, and deserve my warmest commendation.”
Mr. Wrench bowed, but did not offer any observation. Possibly he was
mindful of the old adage “That a modest man on his own merits is
dumb.”
“We” (he spoke in the plural) “have brought the matter to a
satisfactory conclusion,” observed the lawyer.
“As yet it is not concluded, Mr. Chicknell,” returned the Earl.
“No――ahem――of course not. Much remains to be done. Your lordship is
quite right――it is not concluded, but it is gratifying to know that we
have been successful thus far. The ring bears the Ethalwood crest, I
believe.”
“It does.”
“An additional link――I may say an important one――in the chain of
evidence.”
“I am told,” said the earl, addressing the officer, “that some robber,
some unprincipled scoundrel, made an attempt to steal these articles
from the inn, either last night or early this morning.”
“That is true, my lord, but we were too sharp for him,” said Mr.
Wrench, with evident vexation――“much too sharp.”
“Oh! it would be adding to the other favours already conferred upon me
if you could by any means ascertain who the villain was.”
“I will do my best, my lord,” returned Wrench.
“Thank you.”
“Well, I think, that is all we have to say at present, Wrench,” said
Mr. Chicknell. “I will see you later on.”
The detective took the hint, bowed, and retired.
“Confound it!” he murmured, as he descended the stairs. “Who could
have told him of the attempted robbery? ‘Ill news travels fast’ is an
old saying, which is borne out in this instance.”
For the remainder of the day Peace was actively employed in an
endeavour to find out the man who had created such a disturbance at
the “Carved Lion” on the preceding evening; but, as he had
anticipated, he found this by no means an easy task.
The gipsy had got clear off. There were traces of his passage along
the high road by the marks of blood which had poured from his wound,
but they gradually became fainter, after which they were no longer
distinguishable.
Wrench had proved himself to be a proficient in that department of his
profession known as “thief catching,” but he was by no means sanguine
of success in this case. Neither did he care much about it, for he
argued that no possible good could accrue by the arrest of the gipsy;
certainly, none as far as he (the detective) was concerned. In point
of fact, it would be a needless exposure of his own want of caution.
Thieves as a rule are remarkably cunning, and to capture them is no
easy matter.
Captain Fenwick, head constable of Chester, wrote some time back an
interesting letter on “Modern Thief-catching.” It is estimated, said
he, that there are at large in this country about 40,000 individuals
who are either known thieves or under the suspicion of the police;
nearly 3000 are yearly liberated from the convict prisons alone; and a
large proportion of them are lost in the crowd until they find
themselves back in prison again.
Considering the influence of these persons on society in the way both
of depredation and contamination, it will be readily perceived that
thief-catching is a matter of considerable moment.
Captain Fenwick in his epistle reviews the various means which have
been adopted from time to time to identify depredators, and to save
the public from being victimised by habitual criminals.
When the telegraph system was adopted it was probably thought that its
use by the police would cripple the operations of the professional
thief.
As a fact it has been and is still used with some success for the
purpose, but even at the present day, with the system and its immense
ramifications in full working order, the “dangerous classes,” as they
are termed, manage to exist in strong force.
Photography lends its aid in the same direction.
Twenty years ago the police established what are known as “routes,”
and many an old gaol bird has been recognised by that means.
When a prisoner has been arrested, and it is suspected from his
familiarity with the prison rules and for other reasons that he is
known to the police, notwithstanding his air of pastoral simplicity,
he is photographed, and his “picture” is circulated.
In a few days it is returned with an accumulation of information
signally fatal to the prisoner’s assumed innocence, and largely in the
public interest.
Instead of a “moon” (a month) in the local gaol he finds himself
before a jury as an old offender, and ultimately back again to a
convict establishment.
But photography is not always quite reliable, and it is not even
imperative upon an untried prisoner to sit for his photograph, and
only “chumps” (the inexperienced) consent; and, although after
conviction a prisoner is duly “taken” and carefully registered, his
personal appearance naturally changes. This change, as in the case of
Peace, is sometimes assisted by art.
As a rule, prison photographs are not excellent specimens of
photographic art.
The _pose_ is not perfect, nor the subject carefully focussed, and the
result of the defect is not removed by a normal squint or a twist of
the features at the critical moment.
Officialdom felt this drawback, and to meet it to some extent a “black
book” was devised.
The “Habitual Criminal Register,” as this book is termed, is an
imposing-looking tome. In six years and a half the names of nearly
180,000 persons were registered in its pages. In every case the
criminal had been more than once convicted on indictment for serious
crimes against the community.
This formidable catalogue was compiled for the most part by men whose
names are to be found in it and printed at “Her Majesty’s Prison,
Brixton.”
There is a curious irony in the fact that some of these gentlemen
should be employed to perfect a scheme destined to react upon
themselves and their fraternity.
Yet with all these precautions a goodly proportion still evade the
clutches of the law.
By the free adoption of aliases, identifications through the _Hue and
Cry_, and even by means of photographs, have often failed.
Amusing exceptions, it is true, have occurred, one woman, who had
provided herself with sixteen aliases, being convicted for the
thirty-ninth time.
Lieut.-Colonel Du Cane says in his preface to the first volume of the
“Register”:――“It is, I believe, the first time that an attempt has
been made to furnish all the police of this or any other country with
information in such a complete and readily accessible form respecting
the individuals of the class against whom they are carrying on their
operations, and the first time that such a work has been carried out
in a prison.”
The latest attempt, however, is to checkmate and deal with the
habitual criminal in the register of their “Distinctive Marks and
Peculiarities.”
The name only has proved an uncertain means of tracing their
antecedents. It is found, however, that many of these people bear
about with them some mark or peculiarity, which answers much better.
Thus of 2914 persons who were liberated in 1876 nearly one-half were
indelibly stamped in this way, and this information is now carefully
arranged in the new register.
A thief may assume any name he pleases――the chances are about even
that he is ear-marked, and known more certainly than by name.
This register is a curiously interesting production.
The first issue shows who are “deaf,” “very deaf,” “men of colour,”
“blind of one or both eyes,” those who squint, or have a “glide,” or a
“cast” in their organs of vision.
Twenty-five per cent. have “broken, or crooked noses,” and a few have
“their ears slit.”
The mania for tattooing, which it will be remembered even the
“Claimant” was not free from, exists largely among thieves.
There is first of all the “D,” (deserter from the army), which occurs
very frequently, two “D’s” almost equally so; some have even three “B
C’s,” (bad characters) appearing on the left sides, of a sufficient
number to justify the conclusion that a bad soldier is often something
more.
The variety of marks upon the chest is very extensive.
Sometimes they are the initials of the owner’s name, or of his
sweetheart’s.
The presence of the Union Jack is presumed to indicate patriotism of
some sort.
Here and there occur a ship in full sail, the masonic emblems of
square and compass, and a few adopt such mottoes as _Dieu et mon
droit_, “Now or Never,” and so on.
The arms are extensively used for this kind of art, every fourth
criminal being tattooed with some device.
The variety indeed is almost endless, and the extent in some cases
enough to make a Maori jealous.
The sun and moon figure over and over again; anchors, fishes,
mermaids, and hearts (pierced with Cupid’s arrow and other devices)
are also frequent.
Then there are flags, swords, guns, and implements of war in
abundance.
Among other devices we come upon such as “Mary.” “In Memory of My
Parents,” &c., &c. The hand is very fruitful in its “particularities,”
and the legs are laid under contribution in the same way.
The reader will pardon this digression, as this notice of the means by
which the police are able to detect the “wanted” when they are
“known,” has interest for the public, as well as the constabulary.
It is calculated to induce a more general scrutiny of suspected
thieves, with a view to discovery of peculiar marks, and in future the
“information” received by the police may prove more useful in
thief-catching.