My Strangest Case - Guy Boothby (inspiring books for teens TXT) 📗

known this before."

"So do I," I said. "And now perhaps you can go further and furnish me with a description of the man himself. I shall then be able to tell you whether my gentleman and your customer are one and the same person."

"I can describe him to you perfectly well. He was tall, but somewhat sparely built, very sunburnt--which would be accounted for by his long residence in the East--his hair was streaked with grey, he had dark eyes, and a singularly sharp nose."

"Did he wear a beard?"

"No, only a moustache. The latter was carefully trimmed, and, I think, waxed. Of this, however, I am not quite certain."

"And his name?"

"He would not tell us that. We pressed him to disclose it, but he obstinately refused to do so. He said that if his name became known it might lead to the discovery of his mine, and that he was naturally anxious that such an event should not occur."

"But what guarantee had you that the stones were not stolen?"

"None whatever--but it is most unlikely. In the first place, they are uncut; in the second, we have had them in our possession for some time, and you may be sure have made the closest inquiries. Besides, there are few such stones in Europe, and what there are, are safely in the possession of their owners. Surely you are not going to tell me that they were stolen?"

In the man's voice there was a perceptible note of alarm.

"I don't think you need be afraid," I said. "They were stolen by the man from his two partners, and all they want is to get hold of him in order to make him disgorge their share of what he got for them."

"I am glad indeed to hear that," was the reply. "I was beginning to grow uneasy. And now is there any other way in which I can serve you? If so, I shall be only too pleased to do it."

I informed him that, if I had anything else to ask him I would call upon him again, and then took my departure. While I was in a great measure satisfied with the information I had gained, I was not altogether easy in my mind. The question to be answered was, was the man I was after the same individual who had sold Jacob and Bulenthall the stones? The description given me varied in several particulars to that furnished me by Kitwater. My client declared him to possess black hair; the merchant had said grey; the one had declared that Hayle possessed a beard, the other that he had only a waxed moustache. The figure, however, was in both cases identically the same.

Having satisfied myself that he had no more to tell me, I thanked him for his courtesy and left the office. A fresh idea had occurred to me which I thought might lead to something, and I resolved to put it into practice without any further waste of time.



CHAPTER IV

It would be a truism to declare that human nature is about as complicated a piece of machinery as could be found in the human world. And yet I do not know why it should be considered so. All things and all men do not run in grooves. A man to be a criminal need not be hopelessly bad in every other sense. I have met murderers who did not possess sufficient nerve to kill a rabbit, burglars who would rob a poor man of all his possessions in the world, and yet would not despoil a little child of a halfpenny. The fact of the matter is we all have our better points, our own innate knowledge of good and evil. Hayle had betrayed Kitwater and Codd in the cruellest fashion possible, and by so doing had condemned them to the most fiendish torture the mind of man could conceive. Yet it was through his one good point, his weakness, if I might so describe it, that I was enabled to come to my first grip with him.

It was between the hours of two and three that I entered the gates of Brompton Cemetery and commenced my examination of the various graves therein contained. Up one path I wandered and down another in search of the resting-place of the poor crippled sister of whom Gideon Hayle had been so fond. It was a long time before I found it, but at last I was successful. To my astonishment the stone was plainly a new one, and the grave was tastefully decorated with flowers. As a matter of fact it was one of the prettiest in its neighbourhood, and to me this told its own tale. I went in search of the necessary official and put the case to him. He informed me that I was correct in my supposition, and that the stone had only lately been erected, and, what was more to the point, he informed me that the gentleman who had given the order for it, had only the week before paid the necessary sum for insuring the decoration of the grave for many years to come.

"I gather from your words, that the gentleman, who must be a relative of the deceased, has been here lately," I said.

"He was here last Sunday afternoon," the man replied. "He is a most kindly and generous gentleman, and must have been very fond of his sister. The way he stood and looked at that stone the last time he was here was touching to see. He'd been in foreign parts, sir, and is likely to go out there again, so I gathered from what he said. It is a pity there are not more like him."

This was news, indeed, and I pricked up my ears on hearing it.

Having learnt all I was likely to discover, I thanked the man for his kindness and left the cemetery. If I had done nothing else, I had at least satisfied myself upon one point, and this was the fact that Gideon Hayle had been in London within the week. Under such circumstances it should not be very difficult to obtain his address. But I knew from experience that when things seemed to be running most smoothly, they are as much liable to a breakdown as at any other time--sometimes even more so. I accordingly hailed a cab and drove back to my office. Once there I entered up my diary according to custom, wrote a note to Kitwater, informing him that I had discovered that Gideon Hayle had not left London on the previous Sunday, and also that I believed him to have negotiated certain of the stones in London, after which I returned to my hotel to dine.

Most people who know me would tell you that it might be considered consistent with my character that I still occupied the same apartments in the private hotel, off the Strand, in which I had domiciled myself when I first arrived in England. If I am made comfortable I prefer to stick to my quarters, and the hotel in question was a quiet one; the cooking and the service were excellent, and, as every one did his, or her, best for me, I saw no sort of reason for moving elsewhere. It is something in such matters to know the people with whom one has to deal, and in my case I could not have been better cared for had I been a crowned head. I suppose I am a bit of a faddist in these things. Except when business compels me to break through my rule, I rise at the same hour every morning, breakfast, lunch, and dine at the same time, and as far as possible retire to rest punctually at the usual moment. After dinner in those days, things have changed since then somewhat. I invariably smoked a cigar, and when the evening was fine, went for a stroll, returning between nine and ten and retiring to rest, unless I had anything to attend to, punctually at eleven. On this particular occasion, the night being fine, though rather close, I lit my cigar in the hall and stepped out into the street exactly as the clock was striking eight. I had a lot to think of, and felt just in the humour for a walk. London at all hours is a fascinating study to me, and however much I see of her, I never tire of watching her moods. After I left my hotel I strolled along the Embankment so far as the Houses of Parliament, passed the Abbey, made my way down Victoria Street, and then by way of Grosvenor Place to Hyde Park Corner. Opposite Apsley House I paused to look about me. I had my reasons for so doing, for ever since I had left the river-side, I had entertained the notion that I was being followed. When I had crossed the road at the Houses of Parliament, two men, apparently of the loafer class, had crossed too. They had followed me up Victoria Street, and now, as I stood outside the Duke of Wellington's residence, I could see them moving about on the other side of the way. What their intentions were I could not say, but that their object was to spy upon my movements, I was quite convinced. In order to assure myself of this fact I resolved to lay a little trap for them. Passing down Piccadilly at a sharp pace, I turned into Berkeley Street, some twenty yards or so ahead of them. Crossing the road I sheltered myself in a doorway and waited. I had not been there very long, before I observed that they had turned the corner and were coming along in hot pursuit. That they did not notice me in my hiding-place is evident from the fact that they passed on the other side of the street, and doubtless thinking that they had missed me, commenced to run. I thereupon quitted my friendly doorway, returned to Piccadilly, hailed a cab, and drove back to my hotel. As I went I turned the matter over in my mind. With the exception of the present case I had nothing important on hand, so that I could think of no one who would be likely to set a watch upon me. That I did not suspect Hayle would only be natural under the circumstances, as I did not know then that he had been the witness of Kitwater and Codd's visit to my office that afternoon, and I felt convinced in my own mind that he was unaware that they were in England. It was most natural, therefore, that I should not in any way associate him with the plot.

The following day was spent for the greater part in making further inquiries in Hatton Garden, and among the various Dutch merchants then in London. The story the senior partner of Messrs. Jacob and Bulenthall had told me had proved to be correct, and there could be no sort of doubt that Hayle had realized a very large sum of money by the transaction. What was more, I discovered that he had been seen in London within the previous twenty-four hours. This was a most important point, and it encouraged me to persevere in my search. One thing, however, was remarkable. One or two of the merchants to whom Hayle had disposed of his stones, had seen more of him than Messrs. Jacob and Bulenthall. Two had dined with him at a certain popular restaurant in Regent Street, and had visited a theatre with him afterwards. In neither case, however, had they discovered his name or where he lived. This