Complete Story. An Interrupted Trip.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIV, Issue VI, 10 February 1900, Page 248

Complete Story. An Interrupted Trip.

To my mind the case presented great difficulties, tor, owing to the unaccountable stupidity of the district police superintendent, news of tihe outrage did not reach Scotland Yard until two days after its occurrence, and, of course, by that time the perpetrators had had plenty of opportunities to get clear of England, while tiheir trail would be completely absorbed in the mazes of the great City. However, my instructions were to go and do tpy best, and I immediately proceeded to Richmond. On arriving at the house I found the victim still weak from the shock his system had sustained, but he was able to give me a very good and lucid account of the Whole affair, which—as nearly as I can remember—was as follows: —

“My name is Robinson—Major Robinson, of the 109th Foot. As you perhaps know, my regiment was tihe one chiefly employed in quelling the little native disturbances in the Highlands of Hindustan some seven or eight yeans ago, but since then I have retired from the service and lived in this neighbourhood. “When engaged in punishing the Affitors for their cruel massacre of British subjects we destroyed their villages, sacked their temples, and all that sort of thing, as victors generally do, and our men—in fact, all of us—took whatever valuables we had the luck to find, and I must tell you that I was particularly fortunate in that respect, for I managed to secure jewels and golden ornaments from the gods in the temples to the value of nearly £ 10,000. These treasures I brought back to England with me, for they occupied a very small space, and while living here I kept the most valuable locked up in the safe, while the curios were displayed in a glass case in the same room.

“Well, our native camp-followers afterwards told us that the persons who had relieved the timber idols of their trinkets had incurred the anger of the Affitor gods, who cried for vengeance, so that the priests of the temple had sworn they would never rest until the jewels were restored, and the desecrators’ lives offered as a sacrifice to appease their deity’s wrath. “But, as you can imagine, this information caused me much more amusement than anxiety. The god’s anger wasn’t worth a second thought, and as to the priests’ oath for revenge, how were they to know that I in particular had their treasures, or where I was? For only one or two men of my Company—l was captain at the time—knew 1 possessed them. Or, even if they knew both, how could they follow me to do me any harm, especially when I was in England?

“No, the idea that my life was in danger seemed absurd, and my mind was in perfect repose until a week or two ago, when I received a mysterious message, saying the avenging priests were pursuing me. That upset me rather, but on the morning of the outrage another came, which exploded ■my peace of mind like a bomb-shell. Just hand me that drawer, will you?” and giving it to him he took from it a little scroll of dirty parchment, tide round with a piece of grey silk thread, and handing it to me he told me to read it. Unfolding it, I saw written in pec/uliarly-formed, cramped characters the following: — “let the vile Ferringhee sahib tremble. The outraged gods cry for vengeance; they cry for the diadems which once adorned them; they ery for the heart of the thief, the robber, the despoiler. After this night they will cry no more, for they will be avenged, and you, dog, ©hall die! Kali hath spoken!” and then followed some curious undecipherable marks. Which looked like Hindustani letters or words.

“Please resume,” I said to the Major, returning the scroll to him without comment. "Well.” he went on, “that fairly unnerved me. I didn’t know what to do. Clearly t'he priests were on my track, for no one in England knew how I became possessed of the jewels excepting Stimpson, and he, I felt sure, wouldn’t breathe a word about them even if he remembered, which was doubtful. Stimpson, I should tell you, was my orderly while I was in the service. We always got on well together, and when the left the colours he came and asked me if I could give him some employment.

general ‘handy-man,’ but I didn’t let So 1 took him on as gardener and him sleep in the house. 1 had a room fitted up for him over the coachhouse at the end of the garden. “But what upset me most of all was the mysterious way in which these messages came: not by the post, nor delivered by hand. They came by invisible means, and simply tied round with a piece of silk thread, just as you see this one, and on both occasions they were deposited, by some unseen power, before me on my secretaire, as I sat tlhere writing, in front of my study window each morning. There is something very uncanny and awesome about that, for the doors and windows were closed, and no one else was in the room, nor even near it. “I closely questioned my housekeeper and servant, but they denied all knowledege of the matter, as also did Stimpson. “ ‘Did anyone call yesterday, while I was out?’ I asked.

"Not a soul came to the door, sir, except in’ the tradesman,’ the woman replied.

“ ‘Oh, yes, there was someone called, too,’ said Stimpson to the housekeeper. ‘I saw you at the front door talking to a man.’ “ ‘That was nobody, sir,’ the woman explained. ‘Only a man who left a card about a detective agency.’ “ ‘A detective agency! ’ I cried. ‘Have you got the card still? If so, let me have it at once, Mrs. Barnes.’ She brought it to me, and on it I read: — “ ‘Harrison’s Private Inquiry and Detective Agency, Beaumont Street, Clerkenwell. Satisfactory issues guaranteed to all cases undertaken. Only specialists employed. Strictest secrecy. Immediate attention. Terms moderate.’ “I wired to Harrison’s Agency, and within an hour and a half the principal was with me. I put the whole affair unreservedly before hirnf. He was very grave: said it was a most serious situation altogether, and hardly knew how to act in the matter, so would like a few minutes to think it over. “I had lunch served for him, of which he partook alone. As a result of his cogitations, !he said he considered I was in great danger, for the scrolls were undoubtedly sent by the priests, and as a rule when Hindus were bent upon revenge no power on earth would prevent them getting it, and he told me terrible instances of similar cases he had heard of, which fully substantiated our fears. Further, 'he said he felt convinced that an attempt would be made to recover the jewels and take my life that night, but owing to his ignorance of the priest’s probable method of attack, he scarcely knew what precautions to take. “Eventually it was decided that he should come and sit out the night with me and await developments. Both of us, armed with revolvers, were to sit together in darkness in the room containing the treasure, and upon hearing the s lig’hest suspicious sound we should switch on tihe electric light and shoot upon sight. “So that evening I let Harrison in, Unknown to my domestics, and after seeing that all doors and windows were securerly fastened we proceeded to the library, and, sitting side by side, but facing in opposite directions, Harrison turned out the eleetric lights, as he was nearest the switch, and sitting there in tense silence, with revolvers cocked, and fingers on triggers, we awaited the coining of my foes. “Then came oblivion, for I remembered no more until the next afternoon, when I found myself lying in bed, very dazed and giddy, while a doctor, nurse, and my servants stood at my side. Presently they told me what had occurred. It appears that when the housekeeper entered the library that morning she found a Sickly, overpowering odour pervading the place, and then noticed me in an easy chair, my head lying back and mouth opened wide, a-s if dead, while a revolver lay on my knee. “Screaming ‘Murder!’ she sent the housemaid for a doctor and policeman. The doctor said I had been heavily chloroformed, and feared 1 was gone past recovery; yet he managed to bring me round, you see, but only just. The constable found that the safe mid curio-ease had been

ransacked and all tiheir contents stolen, while my keys were found hanging in the safe door. “Of course, the whole affair is as clear as the day, especially when I tell you that Stimpson has disappeared. Undoubtedly he and Harrison cleverly planned the affair between them; he must have told Harrison of my treasure and how I acquired it, so they worked upon my fears by means of these scrolls.

“You see, while Harrison and I sat side by side in the darkness he simply chloroformed me, and, taking my keys, he opened the safe, took all my valuables, and, letting himself out by the front door, calmly walked away unquestioned. Now, what I want you to do is to catch him and restore to me the jewels.” “Which is much more easily said than done, considering the two days’ clear start he has had,” I replied. “How is a man to be traced after this lapse of time? He may be—goodness only knows wj>ere, by now.” “Perhaps so,” 'the Major replied, “but of what use are detectives if they are not smarter than ordinary people? If the police alone were able to catch the men, it would not be necessary to trouble you.” “Did you notice any peculiarities about Stimpson or Harrison?” I asked.

“N —no, can’t say that I did; only —yes, now that I come to think of it, Stimpson was remarkably like Harriison; wonderfully so. I remember he once told me he had a brother exactly like him, and, by Jove! I’ll bet any money that Harrison was his brother, the rascal!” “Indeed! That information is most (valuable. Do you happen to have a photo, of him?” “I have not, but perhaps Susan, the housemaid, has; he was rather attentive to her. I will ask her.” He did so, and returned with a photo., which I took for purposes of identification.

“Yes, that is the image of Harrison,” said the Major, “only Stimpson has dark hair, while his brother’s is red.”

“Thanks; I’ll make a note of that. Any trait of Stimpson’s that you have noticed?”

“No, only once or twice I saw him poring over a perfectly blank piece of blue paper, and upon asking him what he was doing he replied, ‘Studying the water-mark.’ ” “Funny thing for a man like that to study” I remarked. “Now 1 must go and make a few inquiries;” but I was by no means hopeful of success after the villains’ long start.

I found that Harrison’s Private Inquiry and Detective Agency offices consisted of one room, which contained nothing but a chair and table. The “principal,” “specialists,” and clerks were all absent, which was not surprising considering that Harrison comprised the lot, and the “Agency” was run for the sole object of relieving Major Robinson of his valuables. The muchly condensed “staff” boarded and lodged in the same house as the office was situated in, but the landlady had seen nothing of Harrison since the evening before the outrage on the Major. Yet she was anxious to know his whereabouts, for he went off owing two weeks’ board and lodging. “He didn’t leaive nothin’ behind, neither; only a ’ired typewriter as a man is goin’ to call for pres’n’ly, an’ some papers an’ a empty box!” the worthy old soul volunteered. “Oh, a typewriter and some papers! May I see them?” I asked, telling her who I was.

“Cert'nly, sir,” she replied, taking me up to the rogue’s private room. The typewriter was a wornout affair without a ribbon, although intended to be used with one. The mechanism was very shaky, while the carriage roller was deeply indented with innumerable blows of the type. “Where are the. papers you spoke of?” I asked the landlady, who stood looking on. “There!” she replied, pointing to several unsoiled sheets of blue writ-ing-paper, which lay on the floor with some used blotting-paper. “Only those!” I cried, disappointedly. “They are no good: merely blank sheets.”

"Well, they's them as I spoke on There ain’t no others.”

I picked up one of the pieces of blotting paper, and noticed some

strange marks upon it, which led me to form conclusions and scrutinise it more closely. As a result, I carefully picked up the other pieces, and had difficulty in restraining a triumphant “Hurrah!” as I examined one white sheet which was unused and unsealed, for now the two rascals were as good as arrested, and the jewels returned to their previous possessor. It was the luckiest find I had ever made by accident, for here at the very beginning of what promised to be a difficult quest, I had an explanation of Stimpson’s “study of watermarks,” as well as a certain clue to the whereabouts of the smartest couple of rogues out of prison. Returning to Major Robinson, I cried: “Major, I’ve discovered where jour men and treasure are, and I want you to come immediately to Newcastle with me to identify them. Get ready while I go to procure a warrant for their arrest,” and soon we were flying to the busy northern city as fast as steam could take us. This is how the clean sheet of blot-ting-paper told me where to look for the rogues. When “Harrison”—who was once a typing clerk—wished to send to his brother any communication relative to the plot, he adopted the following ingenious idea, in case the letter should fall into the wrong hands. He removed the ribbon from the typewriter, and, putting a piece of blotting-paper under the blue let-ter-paper, struck the keys of the machine rather hard. The result was that the words were printed in colourless typewriting, which was deeply impressed in the paper, yet unless it w’ere held in a certain light the letters would be practically invisible, so that an ordinary person would take it to be merely a piece of blank paper. But of course the letters were impressed on the blotting-paper beneath as well, so much so as to be perfectly legible, only, fortunately for me, “Harrison” did not notice this. He used a clean sheet of white blotting-lpaper for the underlay of the last letter to his brother, consequently the communication was as plain on it as on the paper whose water-mark Stimpson was “studying.” Harrison” never did a sillier thing than leaving his blotting-paper behind, for this is what I read on it: — “Be ready to shift to-night. Shall have shiners for a. certainty. Game has worked A 1. Going to keep house with the old boy for the night, so it’s all gay. But we mustn't be seen together, so book to Liverpool and from there to Newcastle. No disguise; simply look dirty and careless. I book to Hull, then on to meet you. We will get a light job on the Maggie May sailing on Monday for Ostend. I’ve arranged with the skipper, so it’s all right. We’ll have a jolly time on the Conti, with all that oof. They can‘t possibly catch us. Burn this.—BlLL.” But with all his cunning “Harrison” was as foolish as the ostrich that buried its head in the sand, and then calmly thought its whole body was hidden. Never was there a more surprised pair of rogues than the two awkward coal-heavers whom we arlested and brought ashore with their parcels from the steam-collier Maggie May, which was just weighing anchor in the Tyne for her vovaire to Belgium. And instead of “having a jolly time on the Continent” they were employed in the arduous, but useful and necessary occupation of quarrying at Portland for a term of five years. —From “Tit-Bits.”