THE MYSTERY CAR.

Otago Witness, Issue 3869, 8 May 1928, Page 81

THE MYSTERY CAR.

By

Wm. R. Holtham.

( Copyright.—Fob the Otago Witness, i John Darnley, criminologist, reflected just a moment before he answered: “ No, I don’t consider my profession sordid. However, there is a certain class of case I never touch (you know I’m not altogether dependent on my work). As for the rest, it’s true I come in contact with the seamy side of life, but there are compensations.” “ Why not give us an instance ? ” asked Claude Graham, the younger of the two friends with whom Darnley was chatting. Gleeson Harrow, the famous painter, beamed his approval of this request from the depths of an easy chair. “ I’m afraid story telling isn’t my strong point,” Darnley answered, “ but a case I assisted in some 12 months ago illustrates my meaning. It was a robbery, a very ordinary case on the surface, underneath—well, you shall see for yourselves.”

The criminologist paused a moment, noted that he had the full interest of his two friends, and got to grips with the following story:— How I came to engage in the case was simple. At my office one morning I had a visitor, a young lady whose first appearance seemed rather strange, for she had neither hat nor coat. She explained this by informing me that she was a typist for an insurance company, whose offices were on the ground floor. I saw at once that she was in great distress, and she implored me to undertake an investigation into a robbery which had taken place at a small place called Slceford. Her brother, a clerk at a large' chemical factory, was accused of the theft of £l2OO. The stolen money had. been in his charge, and facts were against him, yet he was, she assured me, innocent. And, with her blue-grey eyes pearled with tears, she said she would not have troubled me had it not been for her mother. The son’s arrest had been such a tremendous shock to the mother that her life was despaired of. “ I am convinced,” my visitor said. “ that the only thing that will save her is for my brother’s innocence to be proved. Won’t you prove it?” I need hardly say that it was not a case I felt keen on undertaking. There was no promise of anything unusual about it. Just a routine case which the police are quite competent to deal with. Miss West saw my reluctance, and redoubled her efforts to persuade me. She was successful, and having made certain arrangements, in' less than three hours I was on my way to Sleeford. Miss West had provided or three local newspapers of different dates, and from these I guu.. main facts of the’ case. Here they are: Fred West was a clerk at the United Chemical Works, and one of his duties every Saturday morning was to bring the money to pay the wages from the bank. This involved a journey of 12 miles, six either way, for the firm did not bank at Sleeford but with the Midland Bank at Bircham. On this certain Saturday the taxi had come to the works as usual; and Fred West had gone in it to Bircham.

There he had signed for roughly £l2OO in treasury notes and silver. When he’ arrived back at the office of the chemical works he hung up his hat on the usual peg and prepared to get ready the pay envelopes; To do this he opened the leather bag in which he had placed £l2OO at the bank. It was empty, except for a piece of lead wrapped in brown paper. It was evident from: the newspaper, account that the office staff had been astounded, and - none appeared more so than the one’ immediately concerned, Fred West. He.jprofessed to.be unable to explain the/mystery, yet he adinitted that he placed the money in > the bag, and it had never left his change. The manager of the works was called in, and he rang up the bank, t They

could offer no solution, for everything was correct as far as they were concerned. So the manager asked West for an explanation, and the voung clerk had stated that he couldn’t explain. He had carried the bag from the bank to the taxi, placed it on the seat beside him, and had not left the taxi until he arrived at the works. Viewed in the light of the fact that the money had gone it seemed an improbable story, and though West had worked in that office 10 years, and had always been found honest, the manager found it hard to believe. So he made an offer: “Tell us,” he said, where the cash ,is so that we can get it back and nothing more will be said; otherwise the police will have to be called in.” The manager’s appeal proved of no avail, so the police were notified. They interrogated the taxi driver, and his evidence did West no good. It seems that on the return journey from the bank West had signalled the driver to stop, and had then asked him to obtain some cigarettes. Thus the taxi driver was absent from the motor for two or three minutes.

Questioned concerning this, West had admitted its truth; he was immediately taken into custody. That was the case outlined in the newspapers. Fred West had been brought before the local magistiates charged with embezzlement, and was remanded for a week. No clue had been found to the whereabouts of the money, but, so the paper stated, the police were not without hope of recovering it.” Well, gentlemen, I’ve had sufficient experience to warn me against judging hastily, but at the same time from these ac s, as presented by the newspaper reports, I couldn’t blame the police for acting as they had done in tryin" to Prove the case on West. And I saw, too, that he would have hard work to clear himself. Someway this case had begun me ’ and on arrival at Sleeford I .lost no time in getting busy on

. first VlSlt was to tlle solicitor who had been engaged to defend West. He vi as vastly surprised when informed that 1, too was on that case. Didn’t seem over-pleased about it, and, I soon saw, InCed -J D hIS OWn mind that hi s client was guilty. He didn’t add anylng to my stock of knowledge of the ra.se, but he did obtain permission for me to see West.

I don’t place much reliance on first impressions, yet when I saw the youn" clerk I was distinctly impressed in his J a ' our - He quite candidly admitted that facts were black against him, and said he could offer no solution of the problem. There was something likeable about the ni«r k i ne n , of , thls y ou ng man; he declared that he was hard up, and the money would have come in useful, J questioned him concerning the journey which had ended so disastrously. So far as he could remember, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred durin" it except that he had found himself without cigarettes. Roberts, the taxi driver, had obtained some for him. Just as an afterthought he mentioned that on the return journey from the bank he had felt suddenly drowsy, and had tried to open the windows of the taxi, but couldn’t. Roberts had told him later that the windows had jammed and needed attending to. After I had left the cell in which bred West was confined I had a chat with the police inspector in char"e of the case. I was shown the leather ba" West had used on that journey, to"ether with the piece of lead which had been substituted for the money. I examined both very carefully, but there was not a trace of a clue, and I was informed that the police had been equally unsuccessful. Wishing to interview the driver of the taxi, I obtained the address of his garage and set out to find it. The inspector had directed me, but the place proved a bit of a puzzle. However, after I had inquired two or three times, I spotted it at last.

Between two shops was an entrance way just about large enough to admit a car. Over this entranee was a sign, “ The Crescent Garage.” I strolled through to find myself in a large yard which contained a taxL< The yard’ terminated in a pair of big doors leading into a wooden shed. As there was nobody in the yard, I tried these doors, but found them locked.

I wondered if this were the. taxi used on that journey to and from the bank. It looked an ancient vehicle. A small, round hole," high up in the framework of the door, caught my eye and focussed my attention. There was something peculiar about it. What could have made a hole there, or why should anybody make it? It was pure chance that I had noticed it, for it was not conspicuous; but what purpose had it served? I had a moment of inspiration, and looked about for some object that would serve my purpose. I was unable to find 'what I ftimted, a small screw, so I fashioned a piece of wood into 7 a peg. After closing the window in the door of the taxi, I inserted the peg in the small hole. When I had pressed it well - home I tried to open that window. It was impossible; the peg held it firm. When the peg was withdrawn the window moved freely. Determined to make sure, I went round to the other window. There was a similar hole, and when I inserted the pe" it yielded a similar result. So this was how the windows had tjammed. Engrossed with the significance of this’ disdbvery, I failed to hear the approaching footsteps, and the first intimation I had that I was no longer alone was a terse command: “ Put your hand* up.” I swung round on l.the/-instant. Four feet away stood a young man, thin-

Jipped and resolute looking, pointing a blue steel automatic at my head. Slowly my hands went up. “And now, Mr Nosey Parker,” he drawled, “who are you?” The situation was grotesque. We were not actually in view from the street, but we could hear its busy hum. A shout or a shot would bring a score of people within a couple of minutes. Some such thoughts as these ran rapidly through my mind as I answered with a question, “ Do you want my card ? ” Before he could reply I sprang at him like a stone from a catapult. I grabbed him by the waist, and the force of impact bowled him over. Before he could recover I had twisted the revolver from his grasp and had sprung to my feet. The positions were reversed, and I was not slow to force my advantage. Immediately he stood upright I demanded: You are Roberts, this is the taxi you drive; then what do you know about the robbery ? ” He denied any knowledge of it, but that stunt didn’t convince me. I called a policeman and gave Roberts in'charge for attempted murder. Then I returned to the inspector -with whom I had become friendly* Following mv information he obtained a search warrant, and together we visited “The Crescent Garage.” There we broke open that large shed which had been padlocked. Inside was a long, low, twelve cylinder racing car, and a number of other interesting things. Doubtless you both read in the newspaper about 18 months ago of the exploits of the mystery car. Well, that was the mystery car. Nearly a score of road hold-ups had been traced to the Bullen gang, and after each of them they had escaped in that car. It wasn’t a bad dodge covering their hiding place for it with a legitimate business. All three of the gang were captured: Roberts was really Harry Bullen, the ringleader. As all three were wanted for many other crimes, for certain reasons the public were never allowed to know that the mystery car gang had been cleaned up. Fred West, of course, was nnocent. He had been sent to sleep with <. whiff of chloronitus through the speaking tube For 12 months Harry Bullen had resisted the temptation to exercise his talents on the money West brought from the bank each week. Then he yielded, ana ■was tripped up. It seemed like fate.

If there is one place where I am always sure of a warm welcome it is in a small house on the outskirts of Sleeford, where Mrs West and her son live. Instead of looking upon it that I was extremely lucky, Mrs West credits mo with wonderful powers, and ■ her gratitude is almost overwhelming.