The Glass Shoe. . .

Free Lance, Volume I, Issue 36, 9 March 1901, Page 19

The Glass Shoe. . .

IN '89, when the incident occurred, I was confidential clerk to Wreck, Kuitt, and Co., fire insurance assessors. One Monday morning Knitt came to me with a telegram asking us to take in hand a large fire that had occurred during the night. He w ished to start by the next train, and could I be ready to go with him p I could, and would" My little bag was always kept at the office ready packed, and I had only to slip in a couple of note-books and I was ready. We were accustomed to these sudden calls at short notice, my part in the expeditions being to take note of all details as Knitt ferreted them out, and, I may tell you, I was also keeping mv eyes open to learn the ferieting-out process myself. We found tho place completely gutted. What had been a fine warehouse, rectangularly built around a central >ard, was now smoking rums, and the fust glance told us that assessing the salvage would not be a difficult mattei The fire brigade were still at work, so we briefly interviewed the chief He had formed no opinion as to the cause of the outbreak, but said the alarm was given about half-past 2am., and that then the fire had a good hold. Probably it had originated about midnight in some room over-lookine; the yard, which would account for its having got such a hold before being noticed. After arranging for the ruins being photographed, we gave the local fire insurance agent a call. From him we learned that both building and business were owned by — well, I'll call him Mr Charles ; mentioning names isn't business. He was at present away, having gone to Scotland on the Saturday for a few days' visit to some relatives, but a wire had been sent, and he was returning at once. Both building and contents were insured — fully, so the agent believed — the insurances being spread over a number of offices. "And what sort of a man is Mi . Charles p " inquired Knitt. "As straight as a die," said the agent — he knew him well. He was universally respected, reputed wealthy, had filled various public offices, and so on. It would be a great shock to him, he took such an active part in the business, managing one large department himself. Four years previously he had had a smaller fire when in other premises, but everything had been perfectly straightforward. After that he had bought the present warehouse, where the business had rapidly grown, so that twice he had increased his insurance. Next day we heard that Mr Chailes had returned, and forthwith waited upon him at his residence, The Cedars We were shown into the library, where we were struck by the good taste displayed in the well-filled shelves and in the choice bric-a-brack adorning the room. I was just admiring a beautifully formed glass ornament, shaped much like a lady's high-heeled shoe, wliich stood on a cabinet, when Mr. Charles entered the room. Stout, with a ruddy, well-fed face, a pleasant manner, and a sonorous voice, he was quite a typical alderman. "You've come to see me about the fire, I suppose?" he said, after the usual greetings. "It's a terrible affair , it's made me feel quite ill." We both condoled witli him, and Knitt remarked that it must necessarily upset the business greatly for a time The old boy was about broken-hearted. It appeared he had no safe, and the books were burnt And, at his time or life, he said, he did not feel like organising a business afresh. For some time his wife had been wanting him to retire, and go abroad for the sake of his health, and he had a good mind to sell the goodwill and do so now Fortunately the private ledger had been kept at home, and this book tho merchant placed at our disposal. For our assessment purposes we soon found that this would, no doubt, be sufficient, as it was the closing ledger of the full set of double-entry books kept, and, as they had always been carefully kept and balanced, the figures in it ctould be depended upon as being accurate. They were, in fact, the actual totals "posted" from those books that were burnt including the stock-books, and covered the three preceding completed years. Tins ledger had been kept by Mr. Charles himself personally, and all the ontues were in his own handwriting the othei books had been kept by the bookkeeper, but lie, it appeared, had lecentIv left and gone abroad, so that we tould hope for no assistance from him. But I'm forgetting: there's one thing I must tell you He pointed out the items appearing as "private drawings." These were — For the \tai ending Dec iinbti <1, ISM> £41(> do Ho 18S7, £^2t) do do ibSh, id 24 All private bills were paid from the house, he said and he always drew level money evei.v Sat ui day The first yeai Ik- had drawn i' 3 a week the second, il(); and the thud, £12. The cause of the outbreak was set

down as 'spontaneous combustion ot oily waste." There was nothing to show the Absolute cause, the gas-meter was ' off," and the premises were heated by steam from an outside boiler. Nor could anyone be blamed, as, so far a*> could be made out, it must have originated in the stockroom of Mr. Charles' department — a room fronting the yard — and no one had been in this room after he left at about 10 o'clock on the Saturday morning. The other rooms were vouched for by the one who locked up, and the keys had, as usual, been left at the police station, so that no one could have got even into the yard. The night we finished the assessment was a memorable one. Raining, blowing, and chilly — a wretched night even for November. While awaiting my 'bus I bought a paper, and the lad had some almanacs, too, and I bought one Why, I hardly know. I did not want an almanac, but the lad looked new at the ]ob, and had neither cap nor boots — and on such a night, too. "Whatever have you bought an almanac ffop"r p " exclaimed my wife, w hen she saw it "we get any number pushed under the door." "Oh, I don't know. I felt sorry for the lad." My wife did open her eyes, and then I remembered only the night before I had told her she "shouldn't waste money like that," because she bought some buttons that were no use from a lame man at the door. So I opened m> paper. But a moment later I heard "Well I you have been done. It's an old one !" I said, "No, it can't be!" But it was — it was for 1887' Imagine my feelings — if you can ' I looked at my paper, and turned over the leaves of the "old" almanac, pretending to hud it all intensely interesting, but really blessing that dear boy, though I afterwards found he couldn't read, and had been done himself. But it was a good job for me that he had, for all of a sudden I noticed a fact that made me exclaim, "By Jove, that's funny!" "What's funny , buying old almaHacs ?" "No, I've got an idea." "Another? Well, they're new enough!" She had scored again, but I was too excited to heed her thrusts. Something had made me wonder if Mr Charles' claim was as straight as it seemed. True, he had given us every information — too much, perhaps — but did that over-anxiety to make everything plain really mean something to hide? I thought of the French saying about self-accusing, and the more I thought the more excited I felt. Next morning I was on my stool an houi before the usual time, poring over that ledger, adding up columns and comparing balances. "Mr. Knitt," I said, when he arrived 'I find that in '87 January 1 fell on a Saturday." "Well, what of it?" I pointed to one line in the ledger He looked , and a long whistle escaped his hps. Then he said "You'd better check over that ledger at once." I have, Mr. Knitt, this morning, and there's nothing else." And, for a full minute, he stood looking at me before he said "It's a most remarkable blunder . . . or a consummate swindle!" A few hours later we again waited on Mr. Charles He saluted us gaily Well, gentlemen, about finished your labours?" Yes, Knitt thought we had, but wished to ask him about an item or two. We all drew up to the table, and presently Knitt came to the point "These private drawings, Mr. Charles - can there be any mistake p " "Mistake! No, how can there be* 3 " ho said, turning the book round and looking at the figures. "Fifty-two Saturdays at eight, four-sixteen ; 'fiftytwo at ten, five-twenty, fifty-two at twelve, six-twenty-four. That's right, isn't it?" 'Yes, yes, of course," replied Knitt, craftily, "but would the money be drawn regularly each Saturday?" "Of course, it's put up with the w ages. Why ?" "Because"— and here Knitt leaned back in his chair, and fixed his eyes searchingly on the other's face — "the year '87 had 53 Saturdays in it." "How do you mean? 'it couldn't." But it did The first day and the last were both Saturdays." Evidently the possibility of such a thing was a detail that had no\ er entered his head His first look had been one of incredulity. Now he started, and changed colour, and I saw his hand on the table twitch. "Then one week's," he began slowh as if casting about in his mind foi the excuse that would best carry w atei , 'must ha\e been" — he gave a slight pause , I believe he was going to say 'forgotten," when the absurdity of the thing struck him, and he said— "paid on some other day."

"That would have thrown 53 payments into '86 or '88." "My book-keeper must haye — " he was beginning, when Knitt, whose patience was exhausted, suddenly leaned forward and shouted •'Don't belie an innocent man. This" —striking the open book with his fist at the word — "this is a bogus ledger." "Its a lie," roared the merchant, dashing back his chair, and starting up with a flaming face. Crash! The chair had struck the cabinet, and brought down the glass, shoe — into a thousand pieces. The effect on the angry man when he saw what it was was appalling— mysteriously appalling. Had an angel appeared from heaven and said "Guilty! ' it could not have been greater. Starting back, with hands out-stretched as if to ward off a blow, his cry rang through the house. Then, like a flash a change came over him, his face went purple, and, in an instant, he lay in a helpless heap. What was it? Apoplexy. He survived several days, but never spoke again. His wife was in a sad way. ISot financially, though , though he had played a losing game. It was kept from the public, but we found out that about half the cash drawn on Saturdays, instead of paying for goods, had been put on deposit in her name in a •Scotch bank — altogether about £30,000. This had been added in with the purchases and the stock, so as to make his

copy invoices were ' 'doctored" — blank claim that much bigger. Some of the forms filled up to taste. No doubt his idea was to draw the insurance, sell the goodwill and site, and go abroad— a profitable way of retiring. It was a bold scheme, and it did me good, too. I found on my desk one morning a letter of thanks, and "hoping you will kindly accept the enclosed, which has been subscribed by the insurance companies concerned." "The enclosed" was a cheque for £100. But what proved of greater importance to me was a change in the name of our firm shortly after to Wreck, Knitt, Wright and Co. You see, my name's Wright. Never found out how the fire started p But we did, though. As conclusively as circumstantial evidence ever did prove a case. The men clearing away the debris one day brought me a glass shoe they had found — the fellow to the one that was A miracle it hadn't been melted or broken ' The brass part of a lamp was cemented in the top, and the toe was weighted. I experimented with it The weighting balanced it so cleverly that, owing to the peculiar shape of the cavity, when full of oil it would stand quite safely with the heel overhanging the edge of a table, but when the oil got low it over-balanced at once. Filled with oil, and turned down very low, it burned just 38 hours before falling, so you've only to imagine something combustible for it to fall on, and — there you are.