A DETECTIVE STORY.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 7243, 26 August 1902, Page 4

A DETECTIVE STORY.

A Bank Robbery and an Interrupted Wedding.

Tragic Sequel to a Daring Crime.

(Concluded-)

On our return to Portugal Street the ■ rector of Yadley, Elaine, mid the so- < licitor engaged for tho dcfonco were < awaiting us. ' "What does Grierson say about the wine?" "Nothing; be lias no explanation. How can be have? He didn't send it," replied the legal gcntlonian. "Of course—of course. Where did ho spend the night?" "Quietly at his chambers in the Temple." "Then it will bo A B G to provo that, he did not personally commit the robbery." "jfo—not oven that. His manservant ' does not sleep there. Ho left comparatively early in tho evening. All ho can say is that Grierson was at his chambers this morniiifr." The sergeant was watching Elaine keenly. She glanced from the sergeant to the men present as though she, wanted to speak, but had some difficulty. "Wil you allow me five minutes'chat with Miss Beaumont?" he asked. We all retired to the outer office In a few minutes the sergeant called us back. "I will report," he said, "as soon as circumstances warrant; but I may'toll this much now—l know the culprit." As soon as they had departed, Beanley wrote out and sent me to despatch the following cablegram to Sir George Bilson. at Hobart: — "Where arc your bank keys. Reply at once.—Reasloy." It was growing dark. Wo dropped into Gatti's and bad some coffee; all detectives lovo coffee. "Now for Relgravia," said Reasloy, as he banded me a cigarette; "the working-out of my theory begins with watching Sir George's town house." We found the mansion in semi-dark-ness, save for a light in one room, which the sergeant told me was occupied by a Mr Jordan, Sir George's pri- • vato secretary. Presently the light was lowered, and a man came out and walked away in tho direction of the bank. "That's Jordan," whispered the sergeant, and we emerged from our hid-ing-phico and shadowed him at a safe distance. He paused in front of the ? Joint Prairie Rank as though it fasci- . natcd him, then pulled himself to- ! gether, and went oil' in the direction of London Bridge. At first it seemed (hat he intended to cross; but having reached to the middle he stopped and carefully looked [ around, and we saw one of his hands . steal over tho parapet. Evidently having performed bis mission, ho retraced his steps aud re-en-tered the. house. We had not been at Portugal Street long the next morning when tho fol- \ lowing message arrived from Hobart: . —"Keys at Safe Deposit Depot, j Lane. Receipt here; but thoy will ' hand them over to you on production of this. Have cabled them to that effect. —Bilson." The manager nt the depot was ready for us. The keys were in perfect order. "How did you icceivo them?" "Inclosed in an envelope, sealed with " Sir George's seal, and accompanied by . this letter." The letter was written by Sir George himself. "By post?" "No, by messenger—a tall, dark man, if my memory is right." The sergeant hailed a cab. A warrant for Jordan's arrest and the services of a constable were obtained at Row Street, and we hastened once moro T to Relgravia. "Can we see Mr Jordan?" "No, sir," replied the man-servant who opened the door. "Ho left ten • minutes ago for Charing Cross." f "Whore for?" "Hobart. He has gone to give Sir George full particulars of tho bank robbery." "Was his luggage labelled?" "Yes—Paris. He only took a portmanteau." "It's 2.30 The Continental leaves at 2.45," shouted Beaslcy to the waiting cabman. "A sovereign if yon catch it." We arrived at the station, rushed down the platform, half-knocking over a porter, and boarded the last car ns it was on the move. "Plenty of timo to cool down now," remarked Reasley, as be sat panting in one corner. "Folkestone is tho first stop." All at once, when wo had reached the thinly-populated cornfield districts, there was a decided slackening of the speed. Tho sergeant put his head out. "Good heavens!" be exclaimed. I looked out at the other side. The fore part of the train was bowling along nt fifty miles an hour, while our carriage was disconnected and slowing down. Soon we were stranded half-way between two stations. To our dismay, all the Paris luggage had been put into the front van, and had consequently gone on, and thus cut off any clue wo might have had. The guard walked back with bis flag to warn an approaching goods train, which eventually came along and took us on to the next station, two miles ahead. The sergeant hurried to the railway telegraph office and wired: — "Superintendent Police, Folkestone. —Arrest, gentleman, tall, dark, heavy moustache. Portmanteau labelled Jordan, Paris. Following with warrant. —Beaslcy." "I'll couple you on to the 3.15 slow," , said the stationmastcr. The waiting was weary, but at last 1 we were once more en route. ', At Folkestone Central the superinI tendeiit met us. No one had claimed , the portmanteau. Wo should have been surprised if anyone had, for the train had boon stopped at Ashford and a fresh brake-van attached. The portmanteau contained only a limited quantity of wearing apparel. "Wire across and have the boat watched," I suggested. "Not a bit of it," replied Reasley, "that man left the train at Ashford, and somehow or other will get back to town —the only safe hiding-place in 1 the. world. lie must have seen us hoard the train, and, after cutting the eom-numication-cord, at great risk to his life have walked along the footboard and uncoupled our car. It shows the sort of man we have to deal'with." We returned to town by the next train. Nothing likely to help us occurred for the next ten days. On the other hand, things were looking very black. The chain of evidence was being very firmly woven around Mr Grierson, and he had been committed for trial at the Central Criminal Court. The sergeant was indefatigable, but feared the result of bis efforts would be too late to save, Mr Grierson. the painful ordeal at the Old Bailey. As things stood he dared not show his hand. The train incident had been dealt with in the newspapers as a peculiar accident. "Read! read!" he shouted one morn- ( ing, as he rushed into my room and thrust into my hand a cutting from tho agony column of the Courier. "The sacred river flows on smoothly. Safe boating this evening at 8 o'clock. The Union Jack floats. Popular as of yore." We called at the paper office, but ; the advertisement was typewritten, and > had reached the office anonymously by

post with the proper fee enclosed. "'The sacred river," said the sergeant, addressing mo, "is Jordan, and popular means Poplar." That evening I accompanied the sergeant to Poplar. We wore not long i« finding an i»n with tho national flag afloat. In reply to our inquiries, tho Inndlord informed ur a private room bad been engaged by a gentleman. Dinner for four had been ordered for 8 o'clock. It was n bouse much frequented by sailors, who loved to see the grand old flag afloat. Tho sergeant produced bis card, bearing the awc-iuHpiring namo of "Bcasloy," a name that hud struck terror into tho hearts of criminals for years. The whole bouse was at once placed at our disposal. We concealed ourselves and six policemen in a room having a good view of the stairs—the sergeant taking up his position at the keyhole. Punctually at 8 o'clock wo heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Our hearts beat fast. . The sergeant made no sign. AYliocver it was, lie merely came up the stairs, peeped into the dining-room, and passed down again. A minute passed. Hark! We boar several people coming up, evidently carrying heavy parcels. Our nerves wero at tho highest pitch. Beasloy gave the signal. Stealthily we took up our positions.

The dinig-room door was burst open. There was a desperate struggle. One man made for the window, and I shudder now as I seem to hear again that horrid thud in the area below. We captured three, but Jordan, the prime mover and headpiece of the Joint Prairie Bank robbery, had gone to be tried by a higher Judge. Tho heavy goxes the men had carried up contained the gold and notes— they had managed to convert into paper a good deal, and had met to divide the spoil. In a week's time Yadley was en fete. There was no more welcome guest than Sergeant Boasley. As tho happy pair were starting for tho honeymoon, Grierson came once more to thank the sergeant. "No, no!" bo replied, "you should thank tho bride." "Nonsense," replied Grierson, thinking Reasley was chaffing him, "I " "You should indeed; had she accepted Jordan a year ago, you would never have been arrested." "Dad she accepted Jordan!" ejaculated Grierson, amazed. "Yes," replied Boasley, "she refused him for your sake, and be vowed she should never become your wife, even though it cost him his life." "And it did." "And it did," repeated the sergeant.