CHAPTER XXXIII
Field stood in the office of the Inland Revenue at Wandsworth with a feeling that he had got on the right track at last. And yet this discovery, which he had no reason to doubt, opened up the strangest possibilities before him. He was face to face with a theory that staggered him so greatly that he could not speak for a moment. And yet he wondered why the idea had not occurred to him before.
"I suppose that you have not made any mistake?" he suggested.
The clerk was properly indignant. He was not there for the purpose of making mistakes, besides, he had all the particulars entered in his books.
"So that you can see for yourself," he said. "Look here, if you doubt me. The entries tally absolutely with the figures you have on that slip of paper. If there is anything wrong – "
"There is something very wrong indeed," Field admitted, "but that has nothing to do with you. Do you do a large business in that kind of stamped paper?"
"Well, rather, though not so large as we did. You see, those stamped deeds are exclusively used by solicitors; practically, every legal document is a stamped paper. But, nowadays, a good many lawyers get their deeds engrossed on plain paper and send them to me to be forwarded to Somerset House for the stamping."
"I see," Field said, thoughtfully. "In that case, you would have less difficulty in recognizing anybody who purchased a parchment that was already stamped? I wonder if you recognized the man who bought the one we are talking about?"
"Oh, yes," came the ready reply. "The man's name is Acton. He is a law stationer who does odd jobs for the different firms here. He is quite broken down and shabby now, but I should say that at one time he was a gentleman. You will see his business card hanging in a shop window at the corner of Preston Street – a little news-shop on the right."
"I am greatly obliged to you," Field said. "I see the stamp is a two pound ten one. Was it paid for in cash or in the form of a note?"
"A note – a £5 Bank of England note. I recollect getting Acton to endorse it."
Field smiled to himself. Everything seemed to be going in his favour now. He tendered five sovereigns across the counter and asked the favour of the £5 note in exchange, which was granted. The note had a blue stamp on it to the effect that it had been issued by the Wandsworth Branch of the National and Counties Bank, and to that establishment Field wended his way.
There a further piece of information awaited him. The note had been paid out the day before to a messenger who had come from No. 100, Audley Place, with a cheque drawn in favour of "self" by Mr. Carl Sartoris. Field could not repress a chuckle. Everything was going on as smoothly as he could expect.
"And now for Mr. Acton," he said to himself. "I wonder if I dare build my hopes upon the theory that Sir Charles is – but that is out of the question. Still, there is that doctor fellow with his marvellous knowledge of Eastern mysteries. Hang me if I don't start from that hypothesis when I've got this thing through."
It was an easy matter to trace Acton. Field found him in a dingy bed-sitting-room, smoking vile tobacco and eagerly reading a sporting paper. The occupant of the room turned colour when he caught sight of his visitor. The recognition was mutual, but Field did not commit himself beyond a faint smile.
"I – I hope there is nothing wrong," the occupant of the room stammered.
"That entirely depends upon you," Field replied. "So long as you tell the truth – "
"I'll tell you nothing else," Acton said. He had risen now and was standing with his back to the fire, a tall man with a pale face and mournful eyes. "Look here, Field, there is no use playing with the fact that you and I have met before. I was in a very different position then. Now I am a broken man with no ambition beyond a wish to live honestly and to keep out of sight of my friends. I write a good hand, as you know. I have served my time for forgery. But since that I have never done anything that is in the least wrong."
The speaker's words carried conviction with them.
"I am quite prepared to believe it, Mr. Acton," Field said. "All I want is a little information. Tell me, have you done more than one piece of work lately?"
"No. Only one. And that was just after ten o'clock to-day. A gentleman came to me and said he was a lawyer who was just setting up here."
"What sort of man was he?" Field asked.
"Young and fair, with an easy assurance and manner. He had taken a house in Park Road – name of Walters. There is a kind of annex to the house that at one time had been used for a billiard-room, and this was to be his office. I called upon the gentleman there by appointment. I didn't go into the house proper, but I saw that the blinds and curtains were up. The gentleman gave me a £5 note and asked me to go to the Inland Revenue Office here and get a £2 10s. stamp on a skin of parchment. When I got back he dictated a deed to me which I copied down for him."
"Do you recollect what it was about?" Field asked.
"Well, sir, I don't, except that it was some kind of assignment. The names I quite forget. You see, one gets to be rather like a machine doing that kind of work. The gentleman paid me seven shillings for my trouble and asked me to call upon him again."
"And is that all you have to tell me?" Field asked.
"Everything, Mr. Field," Acton said. "I hope that you will not think there is anything – "
"Not so far as you are concerned, certainly," Field hastened to say. "I have only one more question to ask. Try and polish up your memory. Was there any date inserted in that deed?"
"I can answer that question without the slightest hesitation. There was no date inserted in the deed."
"'Um. The thing was so unusual that you were quite struck by the fact?"
"Not at all. Dates are never inserted in engrossed deeds. They are left blank as to the day and the year. You see, there is so much delay in the law. Sometimes the deeds are not executed for months after they are signed. If the date was filled in and a delay of two months took place, a new stamp would have to be purchased, and that means dead loss. Whereas if the date is not put in till the deed is signed, that expense is saved."
Field nodded his head in the manner of a man who is getting satisfaction for his trouble.
"Then the date was no doing of yours," he said. "I fancy I'll run around and see the young lawyer friend of yours. After that I may have to ask you to accompany me to town. There is nothing for you to do besides identifying your own handwriting. Don't go out till I come back."
Field hurried off to Park Road where at length he found the house that he wanted. The curtains and blinds were up in the windows, but no amount of knocking seemed to arouse anybody inside. Not that Field was disappointed, for he had expected something like this. A few inquiries elicited the fact that the house was in the hands of Messrs. Porden & Co., down the street, and thither the inspector repaired. Nobody had taken the house, he gathered, though a few people had been after it.
"Have you had anybody to-day?" Field asked. "I mean early to-day? A tall, fair man with pleasant manners who gave the name of Walters?"
"Well, yes," the house-agent admitted. "He came and asked for the keys; he left a card on my table, and here it is. It was early when he came, and the boy was the only one in charge of the office, so that the gentleman had to go over the house by himself."
"He found that it did not suit him?" Field suggested drily.
"No, he said it was too big for his requirements. He brought the keys back two hours later."
"And didn't ask for any more, though you offered him the choice of many houses?" Field smiled. "But what about the blinds and curtains in the windows?"
"Oh, they belonged to the previous tenant. You see, we had to put in an execution there for rent. The landlord desired the fittings to remain."
Field went away rather impressed by the cunningness of the dodge. The whole thing was theatrical and a little overdone, but it was clever, all the same. A short time later, and Field was on his way to London with Acton for his companion.
Mr. Fleming was in the office disengaged and would see Inspector Field at once. He glanced at the latter's companion but said nothing.
"I have been very successful," Field said without preamble. "I have made some important discoveries. For instance, I have found the gentleman who engrossed that deed. It was engrossed early this morning at a house in Park Road, Wandsworth, by my companion. If you will show him the deed he will be able to identify it at once."
But Mr. Fleming did not do business in that way. He took two deeds and folded them so that a portion of each could be seen. Then he laid them both on the table and asked Acton to pick out the one that he had done. All law stationers' writing is very much alike, but Acton had not the slightest difficulty in picking out his.
"That is the one, sir," he said. "That is the one that I wrote to-day."
Fleming admitted that the choice was a correct one. He spread out the deed now and proceeded to examine it gravely through his glasses. "Did you put in the date?" he asked.
"No, sir," Acton replied. "There was no date. That is a forgery. It is not badly done, but you can see that it does not quite tally with the body of the deed. Besides, the ink is slightly darker. Look at that 'e,' too, in the word 'nine.' I never write that kind of 'e' – you will not find one like it in the body of the deed."
Fleming was bound to admit that such was the case. Field thanked Acton for the trouble he had taken, and dismissed him. Then he came back to the office.
"Well, sir, are you quite satisfied now?" he asked. "Is there any reasonable doubt that – "
"No doubt that the deed purporting to have been signed so long ago was only written to-day. So far as that is concerned, you have proved your case up to the hilt, Field. Nobody is going to gain anything by the publication of that deed. But there is one thing that sticks, and I cannot get it down at all – the genuineness of that signature."
"It does look like a real signature," Field admitted. "But you want to suggest that Sir Charles came back from the grave to-day to write it? I wonder if there is something new in the way of forgery – some means whereby a genuine signature could be transformed from one paper to another without injuring the ink in the slightest. They say they can take all the paint off a picture and place it on a new canvas without so much as injuring a brush mark. That being the case, why couldn't it be done with a man's signature?"
Fleming bit the end of his pen thoughtfully.
"It may be possible that some cunning rascal has invented an entirely new process," he said. "But anyway, I'm prepared to swear to the genuineness of this signature. There is only one other way to account for the whole business, and as a sane man who has long come to years of discretion, I am almost afraid to mention it to a business man like yourself."
Field looked up quickly.
"I have a little hesitation also," he said, "because you may have laughed at me. Is it possible, sir, that you and I have hit upon the same theory?"
The two men looked at each other, and there was a long silence between them.
CHAPTER XXXIV
Field walked away thoughtfully from the office of Mr. Fleming. He was a little pleased to find that the lawyer took the same view of the mystery as himself. There was a great deal to be done yet. It was getting very late indeed before Field made his way once more in the direction of Wandsworth. He had an important paper in his pocket, and he had given directions for two of his most trusted men to meet him outside No. 100, Audley Place, by eleven o'clock.
But those other men had other tasks to perform first, and they might be some time yet. With this knowledge in his mind, Field repaired to the garden in front of the house and there decided to wait for developments. It was not a cold night, the bushes in the garden were thick, and Field felt that he would be just as well there as anywhere else. His patience was not unduly tried. He chuckled slightly to himself as he saw Beatrice arrive. He had a pretty shrewd idea what she was here for.
"The old fox is not quite certain of his goal," he told himself. "He thinks he has got everything in his grip – that the forged deed will do the mischief, but perhaps there are other papers. That is why he has sent for Mrs. Richford. We shall see."
If Sartoris had known what reposed in Field's breast pocket he would not have been quite so easy in his mind. But he did not know it, and Field did not know what was transpiring inside the house. He waited a little longer till Mary Sartoris came up. She seemed to be greatly agitated about something; she stood in the garden hesitating. A little later, and she was joined by Mark Ventmore. Field was glad to see so valuable an ally here.
From his hiding-place Field could hear all that passed. It was a satisfaction to be able to gather up such a deal of information. Richford would have to come into the net presently, and Richford was in England, which was more than Field had expected. Of course, with everybody else, he had heard of the famous diamonds that Richford had given to his wife, and supposed that before now the diamonds had been turned into money. Into funds, Richford would have had a good chance of getting away; as it was, he must still be in London.
"So that fellow is still here," Field chuckled. "Did she say Edward Street? The very house that I have my eye on. We will bag all the birds. Hullo, here come some more!"
Mark and Mary Sartoris drew back as the man and woman respectively called Reggie and Cora came up. They had their listeners, but they did not know it. Perhaps, if they had, they would not have made their plans quite so openly. As it was, they had laid bare the whole of their new scheme to the quickest ears in London. Field slipped from his hiding-place as Reggie and Cora closed the front door behind them. Mary gave a little scream.
"There is no occasion for alarm – at least, as far as you are concerned, Miss Sartoris," Field said. "I have heard everything that those people said."
"This is Inspector Field of Scotland Yard," Mark said.
Mary's lips quivered, but she said nothing. Her own instincts told her what Field was doing here. She had always felt that the bubble must burst some day – she had always known that her noble efforts were altogether in vain. And yet she would have gone on sacrificing herself to save Carl Sartoris from the fate that was inevitable.
"Are you down here on any special business?" Mark asked.
"On business connected with the disappearance of Sir Charles Darryll and other matters," Field said. "The one thing contains the other. But you need not have the smallest apprehension for the safety of Mrs. Richford and her diamonds. She is not going to lose them."
"How did you know that she had those diamonds in her pocket?" Mary asked.
"You forget that I have been hiding here," Field explained. "Like yourself, I heard every word that passed just now. Every moment I expect to have two of my most trusted men here. Directly those two emerge from the house and get into the road, they will be arrested. In my business I often find that when you are looking for one bird you frequently find another. Mr. Reggie and Miss Cora are old friends of mine and the Paris police. They are very clever at disguises; they work together, she as a countess, and he as a general officer. Both of them were on the stage and both would have made very good names, but the honest rôle was too dull for them. You may rest assured that those two will be out of the way before daylight."
Mary listened with mixed feelings. She felt that in a measure she was mainly responsible for what was going to happen. It looked as though it would be an eventful evening.
"Well, we can't stand here all night," Mark said impatiently. He was vaguely frightened for Beatrice, in the house with those rascals. "I can help you. You and I together would be a match for the lot of them. What do you say to try?"
But Field had no feeling that way at all. The cool, shrewd officer did not rush things in that fashion. He had his birds secured and he could afford to wait.
"I cannot possibly permit you to interfere with my plans, sir," he said coldly. "You must recollect that I am responsible to the authorities, and that I have my reputation to think of. In my pocket I have a warrant for the arrest of certain people, and that being the case – "
"For my brother! for Carl Sartoris?" Mary gasped. "Oh, is that really so?"
"It would be no kindness to conceal the fact," Field said in a gentle tone. "No, I cannot permit you to enter the house. The thing is absolutely inevitable, and you could not possibly prevent it. A cripple like your brother could not escape me, and any hasty action of yours might mean the escape of the other two. I am exceedingly sorry, Miss Grey."
Mary started as she heard her own name from the lips of the inspector. The expression told her that he knew everything. The blow had fallen at last, as Mary always knew that it would fall, but it was none the less bitter for that. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she said nothing further. Mark looked at her with distress in his eyes; he and Field exchanged glances.
"This must be very painful to you, miss," the latter went on. "By staying here you can do us no good – you are only giving yourself unnecessary pain. Is there any house you can go to, any place where you can stay for the night? A hotel?"
"I have no friends and no money," Mary said through her tears. "Since coming to England I have given myself wholly to my brother. I have done my best to make the path smooth for him and I have failed. It was no fault of mine that Sir Charles – "
"That Sir Charles was not warned," Field said hastily. "Don't say any more, please. Don't place yourself in such a position that I shall have to call you as a witness."
Mary swallowed down her choking sobs. Two figures stole across the street, and Field gave a low whistle. His two trusty subordinates had come at last. As they passed by the gate Field strode across to them and gave them their instructions. Mark turned to Mary.
"Pray let me be your banker," he said. "Let me provide the money so that you – "
"But I cannot," Mary protested. "I dare not. You would never see the money again, and like all good and generous people, you are as poor as I am myself."
"That remark may have applied to my affairs yesterday, but it certainly does not to-day," Mark said eagerly. "I told you that I have been to see my father who has been very ill lately. As he lay in bed, with no friends to come and see him – for he has been a hard and selfish man – he grew to see things in a different light. He sent for me. He was rather impressed by the tale that I had managed to do without his assistance and that I was making a name for myself. I told him everything, and we are quite good friends again. He insisted upon making me an allowance of £1,500, and as the thought of it did him good, I did not protest. After that, will you let me help you? I know how good you are, and how you have suffered."
"I am more than grateful," Mary said in a choked voice. "It is kind of you, but I cannot take any advantage of your offer; I must stay till the end."
"And go through all the misery of it," Mark protested. "You know that all those people will sleep in jail to-night. Why should you witness the arrest? Let me take you to some quiet hotel and arrange for your accommodation there."
But Mary shook her head resolutely. She was not going to leave till she was forced to. Mark ceased his pleadings as Field came back to them.
"If you would only let me go into the house," Mary said. "I have my own key, and I shall not make the slightest noise. They do not require me! if I put my head inside the study I should at once be ordered out again. Let me go to my own room."
Field hesitated for a moment. It was not the first time he had met a good woman whose life was bound up with that of a criminal, and he had experience of what those women could do in the hour of peril. And yet he hesitated because Mary's prayer was passionate and sincere. But it was only for a moment, then he became a police officer again.
"I could not allow it," he said. "If it came to the ears of my superiors, I should suffer. And I have a wife and family to think of. In minutes of temptation such as you ask me to put before you, women are capable of anything for the sake of those they love. Besides, you would not have me do a thing that is wrong in the eyes of my employers?"
Mary was silent. Her own sense of justice showed her that Field was right. But nothing would induce her to go away, so long as there was anything like hope remaining. She might get a chance still to whisper one word of warning. And if it came she would not hesitate. She had not been placed on her parole so far.
She turned away to wipe her shining eyes, and as she did so the door opened and Berrington crept out. His face was full of excitement, his lips were white.
"Glad to find you here," he said. "I was going to try and find a messenger. I could not leave the house for very long, considering that – "
He paused significantly, with his eyes on Mary. Evidently Berrington had made some great and startling discovery, or he would not have been so dreadfully agitated. Even in the moment of her awful sorrow, Mary could find time to speak and think of others.
"I am in a great measure responsible for this," she said. "Philip, Beatrice Richford is in the house; she has a valuable parcel of diamonds in her pocket; those thieves there know it. Go to her assistance at once; see that she is safe from harm. If anything happens to her I shall never forgive myself. Why don't you go at once?"
"I am sorry," Berrington stammered. He seemed quite dazed and confused. "I have no doubt that Mrs. Richford will be perfectly safe, seeing that assistance is at hand. Indeed, I let her know that I was in the house so that she should not be unduly frightened. But there are other matters of far greater importance than that. Sir Charles Darryll – "
"I thought we should come to Sir Charles Darryll," Field cut in swiftly. "But we need not discuss that matter here and now. Do you want me?"
Field asked the question with a strange ring in his voice. Berrington wondered – he was rapidly regaining complete possession of himself. He moved towards the house.
"In a few minutes," he said. "Wait till I give you the signal. Thank goodness, you were so close by."
Berrington passed into the house again and closed the door behind him.