Christopher Quarles: College Professor and Master Detective

  CHAPTER XII

  THE AFFAIR OF THE STOLEN GOLD

  "So you have your wish, Wigan," said the professor, one evening a fewweeks later, discussing a sensational case which was almost withoutparallel in the history of London.

  During the winter months a remarkable series of safe robberies hadtaken place in the metropolis. In each case the safe had been blownopen in the most scientific manner, and neither the public nor thepolice doubted that an exceptionally expert gang was at work; but itwas a gang of which Scotland Yard had no knowledge, and a rumor hadgot about--how, I cannot say--that the thieves were Americans.Moreover, it was so evident that the thieves knew where and when theywere likely to obtain the greatest haul that in one or two instancesgrave suspicions had fallen upon employees of the firms robbed, butthere was not sufficient evidence to warrant arrest.

  As it happened, none of these cases had come into my hands, and I hadtold Christopher Quarles that I was disappointed. He suggested that Imight fail, as others had done, which was possible, even probable, butsomehow I had a lust to try my strength against this gang, and therewas a conviction at the back of my mind that I should succeed. Well, Ihad got my chance, at any rate, and before I had finished my narrativethe professor was just as keen as I was.

  At some time between the early closing on Saturday afternoon and nineo'clock on Sunday morning the head office of the City, Suburban andProvincial Bank, in Lombard Street, had been robbed of an immense sumin gold and valuables. The full amount of the loss had not yet beenascertained, but it was soon apparent that the first estimate wasbelow the mark. Banks, as is well known, always keep a very large sumin gold upon the premises in case of emergency, and, naturally,extreme precaution is taken for its safety. At the City, Suburban andProvincial Bank this gold reserve, in sealed bags, containing definitesums, was in an inner strong-room. The steel doors of both the outerand inner rooms had been blown open with an explosive of immensestrength but presumably making little noise. Several bags of gold hadbeen taken from the inner safe, and in the outer safe two or threedeed boxes belonging to clients had been forced open, and jewelsstolen from them.

  On Saturday the night porter was a man named Coulsdon, who had been inthe service of the bank for many years. It was his duty to visit everypart of the premises at intervals during the night, and to registerthe time of each visit by the telltale clocks provided for thepurpose. He was armed with a revolver, and by means of an electricbell in the entrance-hall could communicate, if necessary, with theporter who lived on the premises.

  His vigil ended at nine o'clock on the Sunday morning, when two clerksarrived to stay in the bank all Sunday. This was a special duty,especially paid for, and, as a general rule, each pair of clerks hadthe duty for four Sundays, when they were relieved by another pair. Itwas the custom for the resident porter to admit the clerks at a sidedoor of the bank, opening into the narrow street turning at rightangles to Lombard Street.

  Thomas, the resident porter, did this as usual on Sunday, but noCoulsdon made his appearance. On glancing at one of the clocks, it wasfound that no visit was registered since two o'clock, and it wasevident that something was wrong. The clerks, with Thomas, the porter,went at once to the strong-rooms, and found the ruined door andCoulsdon lying, gagged and unconscious, in the outer safe. Urgentmessages were at once dispatched to one of the directors and one ofthe three general managers, who were known to be in town.

  "And to-day is Wednesday," said Quarles, with a lift of his eyebrows."The thieves have a long start. Now for details, Wigan."

  "The porter, Coulsdon, did not regain consciousness for some hours," Isaid. "He can tell us little. To reach the strong-rooms you have todescend half a dozen steps, and as he reached the foot of these hereceived a blow out of the darkness, whether from a weapon or a fistonly he cannot say, but the effect was stunning, and he cannot swearwhat happened afterward. He thinks something was thrown over his head,but he really remembers nothing from the time he was struck to thetime he woke up."

  "An old servant of the bank, you say?"

  "Yes, but only recently moved to London. He has been porter at theLeamington branch. There is a disposition to suspect Coulsdon," I wenton; "and not without reason, seeing that he is a big, hefty man, whomight be expected to give a good account of himself. But there is acurious complication. About a month ago a clerk named Frederick Ewingwas summarily dismissed. He had been in the bank some years, hadrisen in the service, and was trusted. He was in the securitiesdepartment, and had considerable knowledge of the methods used withregard to the strong-rooms. It was discovered through a sudden andunexpected inspection that certain small sums had been taken from thepetty cash of this department. Only Ewing had access to this money,and, as a matter of fact, he confessed. He had only borrowed the moneytemporarily, he said, and pleaded earnestly that drastic measuresshould not be resorted to. However, since the integrity of a bankofficial must be above suspicion, he was dismissed at a moment'snotice. He was not prosecuted."

  "What has become of him?" asked Quarles.

  "I can find no trace of him at all. He had lodgings in Hammersmith. Hereturned there after his dismissal, remained there until the next day,and then went out, saying he would be away for a couple of nights. Hehas not returned; nor has a search in his rooms disclosed any clew. Heappears to have had no friends and received hardly any letters."

  Quarles nodded his head thoughtfully for a few moments.

  "How did the thieves get into the bank?" he asked.

  "Through a window at the top of the buildings, which gives on to theroof," I answered. "One of the bars to this window was wrenched out,and the roof outside shows that men have stood there to accomplish thework. The bank is not an isolated building. A journey from its roof tothe roofs of the adjacent buildings is not difficult, and I am workingon the hypothesis that the thieves entered the adjacent block ofoffices and crossed the roof. There are two facts which seem tosupport this idea. Quite recently some repairs to the roof of thebuilding became necessary, and two men were engaged upon it for threedays. They may have been members of the gang, and it is curious theyhave left the employment of the firm which had the work in hand. Sofar I have failed to trace them. Again, an office in this building,occupied by a man named Bowman, calling himself a mortgage broker, hasremained closed since Saturday. Bowman has not been there very long,but until now has been regular in his attendance. I am inclined tothink he will not be seen there again."

  "How much do these bags of gold weigh?" asked Zena thoughtfully.

  "They are very heavy," I answered.

  "But how was the gold got away?" said Zena.

  "I can only surmise as to that," I said with a smile. "The streetwhich runs beside the bank is somewhat dimly lighted, and almostopposite to the private door of the bank there is an archway leadingto a small yard and the premises of Thorne & Co., wine merchants. Thearchway is closed by a gate. The locked gate would present smalldifficulty to a gang which had carefully prepared their scheme, andvery likely a motor car was driven under this archway ready to takethe spoil away."

  "It is possible, but I should want to find out something more aboutFrederick Ewing," said Zena.

  "I am inclined to think that is a suggestion worth consideration,"said Quarles. "This is a case in which one looks for negatives to aseries of propositions. We may ask first, whether a gang, howeverexpert, could have carried out such a robbery, knowing when and whereto go and what to take, without some help from within. The answerseems to be, no. Was that information obtained merely throughsomebody's indiscretion? Hardly! Only a few people would be capable ofgiving the necessary information. Coulsdon, the porter, might give it.Did he? The fact that he was knocked insensible does not exoneratehim; that might be part of a prearranged plan. On the whole, however,Ewing appears to be a more likely person. He was dishonest, that weknow; he was in a position to give the information; he would besmarting under the disgrace of his dismissal; an offer of asubstantial payment would, therefore, be tempting; and, moreov
er, heis not to be found."

  "I think it very probable that information was obtained from Ewing," Isaid. "But it may have been given without any criminal intention. Inmy opinion the planning of the robbery must have begun before Ewing'sdismissal. Besides, though I have failed to trace Ewing, I do not findanything against him beyond this matter of the petty cash. There areno debts worth mentioning, and no entanglements of any kindapparently."

  "So we get no definite answer regarding him," said the professor; "wemust, so to speak, put him aside for further consideration. Let us getback to the gang for a moment. That money would require a lot ofmoving, Wigan. Assuming Coulsdon to be honest, the door of thestrong-room was intact at two o'clock on Sunday morning. The tell-taleclock is a witness to this, and seven hours later the alarm was given.I do not say that a motor car might not have been loaded as yousuggest and driven out of the city without attracting the notice ofthe police, but if you ask me whether it is likely I must decidedlyanswer in the negative."

  "The fact remains that the gold was got away," I answered. "You cannotalter that."

  "Our methods sometimes clash, Wigan. You make a theory to fit thefacts; I get a theory first, and then look for facts to fit it. Igrant yours is the more orthodox method; still, what is consideredorthodox has sometimes been shown to be wrong; and as for facts--well,if I choose to think that this gold has not left the city, how can youconvince me beyond all dispute that it has? You can't. You do notknow. For instance, it might be concealed in this man Bowman's office.Say you are able to prove that it isn't, there are still many otheroffices in the building where it might be hidden, ready to be got ridof gradually. At this stage of the inquiry, at any rate, we are notprepared to guarantee the honesty of all the firms in the block ofbuildings adjoining the bank."

  "So that is your theory?" I said, somewhat impressed by it, I admit.

  "No, it isn't," said Quarles. "I was merely showing how unstable wasyour central fact. No, my theory is quite different."

  "May I hear what it is?"

  "I agree with Zena. Continue to hunt for Frederick Ewing. Get a dozenmen on to the business, if you like. Instruct them to pick up the mosttrivial items of information concerning him. Run his companions toearth, find out all about his debts, however small they may be; that'sthe line along which you are likely to pick up the clew. If you canmanage to put another detective on the job with you, I am a candidatefor the post. I should like to see the strong-rooms and the window,and to ask a few questions."

  My suggestion that Christopher Quarles should be associated with me inthe inquiry met with some opposition. The officials of the bank seemeda little nervous of too much publicity. The fact of the robbery, quiteapart from the actual loss, had injured the bank considerably.However, all objections were overruled.

  When Quarles and I went to the bank, we were requested to walk in andsee Mr. Wickstead, who was one of the three general managers, and hevery graciously apologized to the professor for the difficulties whichhad been raised.

  "I need not tell you that this is a very serious business for us," hesaid. "The loss, large as it is, constitutes the least part of thedamage. Clients, naturally enough, are anxious about the security oftheir own property, and already some nervous persons have removedtheir deed boxes."

  "I can quite see the necessity of precaution," said Quarles. "You mayrely on my discretion. May I ask whether the full amount of the losshas yet been ascertained?"

  "Yes, I think we have now got to the bottom of it."

  "The securities--deeds, bonds, and such-like--have they been tamperedwith?"

  "No."

  "The gang must have possessed wonderful knowledge," said Quarles.

  "Marvelous."

  "May I take it, Mr. Wickstead, that there is no suspicion of collusionwith officials in the bank?"

  "You may. Of course, you are aware that we had to dismiss a clerkrecently?"

  "Yes, who cannot be found. I understand that he would be in a positionto give the necessary information if he chose to do so?"

  "That is true. He was in a position of some importance."

  "With regard to this gold reserve, how often is it examined?" askedQuarles.

  "At intervals, not regular intervals. The unexpected inspection isgenerally considered the best. We have a staff of inspectors for thispurpose."

  "My point is this," said Quarles; "might the robbery of this goldextend over a period of time, several weeks, let us say--a bag takento-day, for instance, replaced by a dummy one, perhaps, and anotherbag taken in three days' time, and so on?"

  Mr. Wickstead smiled.

  "This reserve is kept in an inner strong-room. Three keys arenecessary to open the door, and these three keys are kept by threedifferent persons. I have one. Three of us have to go together to openthat inner room."

  "Ewing would never be there alone, then?"

  "Certainly not," Wickstead answered. "For my part, I do not believeFrederick Ewing had anything to do with the affair at all. Thecircumstances of his dismissal naturally make him suspect, but I thinkthat offense was the beginning and end of his dishonesty."

  "Yet he has disappeared," said Quarles, "and it looks as if he hadtaken extreme care to leave no clew behind him."

  "He would feel the disgrace keenly, I imagine, and would wish toefface himself," the general manager returned.

  "There was no question of prosecuting him, I suppose?"

  "One of the directors suggested that course, but it was decided not todo so."

  "Could Ewing possibly have heard that a prosecution was contemplated?"asked Quarles. "That would account for his complete disappearance."

  "He certainly could not have heard of it. I am sorry for Ewing;indeed, I tried to get the directors to reconsider their decision andgive him another chance. It is a terrible thing for a man to have toface poverty and degradation like that. All I achieved was to getlaughed at for my sentimentality."

  "Then you would still trust Ewing?"

  "I would," Mr. Wickstead answered with deliberation.

  Quarles and I then went to examine the strong-rooms, which were emptynow, the securities having been removed to other rooms.

  A constable was on duty in the passage leading to them, and materialslying about showed that the work of fitting new doors was to commenceat once. Quarles put on a particularly heavy pair of spectacles andproduced a high-power pocket lens as well. He examined the locks andhinges of the ruined doors, and the various bolts which were thrown bythe action of the turning keys. He carefully scanned the marks and theruin which the explosion had made, and also the steel-bound holes intowhich the bolts fitted when the doors were fastened. Both the innerand the outer strong-rooms were examined with the same close scrutiny,and I pointed out to him the spot where the porter, Coulsdon, had beenfound, and where the rifled deed boxes had stood.

  "Had the boxes been blown open?"

  "No; forced open," I answered.

  "I am not sure what explosive was used upon the doors,Wigan--gelignite or some similar preparation, I suppose--but it waspowerful and peculiar in its action. How about finger-prints?"

  "There were none on the doors. Either the explosion destroyed alltrace or the men wore gloves."

  "I suppose men of an expert gang would take that precaution?"

  "They would be likely to think of everything."

  "Yes; but since the gang is entirely unknown at Scotland Yard, thatmight be considered an unnecessary precaution, eh?"

  He turned his attention to the ruined doors of the inner room again,picking out minute pieces of debris from the lock with a pair of tinyforceps, and examining the pieces under the lens.

  "I cannot be certain what explosive was used, Wigan, and the lighthere is bad. I will examine some of this dust at home," and he emptiedthe contents of the palm of his hand into a small envelope, which hefolded up carefully and placed in an inner pocket.

  Then he examined the floor of the outer room, and the passage without,picking up several bits of rubbish, but findi
ng nothing of interest.

  From the strong-rooms we went to the top of the building and examinedthe window and the roof. The window was at the end of a passage.

  "Where do you suppose the thieves came from to get to this window?"Quarles asked, after he had examined it and the roof outside.

  "The window yonder belongs to the adjoining block of offices," Isaid, pointing across the roofs. "It is quite easy to reach."

  We started to go to it, but had only gone a little way when Quarlesstopped.

  "You may find it easy, Wigan, but my legs are not so young as theywere, and climbing a roof is outside their business."

  "At any rate, you can see that it is an easy journey," I said.

  "Oh, yes, for young legs; and it is not likely this gang is composedof old crooks. By the way, I think they must have got out of thiswindow as well as in at it. Look at this scratch on the sill--a bootheel, I should say, and the position would mean that the man wasgetting out. It is not certain that the stuff was not carried acrossthe roof, Wigan. I wonder whether Mr. Bowman has returned to hisoffice yet?"

  "I have a man watching for him," I answered.

  "It's a curious case," said Quarles as we went downstairs. "I supposeyou have inquired among the staff whether anyone knew Frederick Ewingintimately, visited him at Hammersmith, knew his private friends,hobbies, and so forth."

  "Yes. Nobody appears to have known anything about him outside theoffice."

  "I should like to have a look at the desk he occupied. I suppose thatcan be managed."

  Permission was given us. The man who used it now got up to allow us toexamine it, and Quarles again used his lens, going over the deskwithout and within.

  "Was Mr. Ewing rather an untidy person?" he asked, turning to theclerk.

  "No, I don't think so. I hardly knew him."

  "Kept himself to himself a good deal, eh?"

  "Yes; I believe that was the general impression."

  "A bit of a dreamer, Wigan, I should say."

  And then the professor thanked the clerk, and we left the bank.

  "We've got to find Frederick Ewing," said Quarles decidedly. "He isthe keystone to the mystery. Without definite knowledge concerning himwe are powerless, I fancy. Even if we make an arrest, even if wearrest a gang of men, we could prove nothing. They are not likely tobe found carrying any of the missing jewels, and there is preciouslittle evidence to be got out of a sovereign. Months must elapsebefore the jewels, one or two at a time, filter into the market, andno banknotes or bonds which might further us with a clew have beentaken. Ewing must be found."

  In this direction I was up against a blank wall. I gave instructionfor every shop, every public-house in the neighborhood of Ewing'slodgings, to be visited, and practically there was no result. Atobacconist fancied he recognized a customer from the descriptiongiven of him, but that was all. Ewing had once belonged to a rowingclub at Hammersmith, but had gone in for little serious practice. Andthe day after Quarles and I had visited the bank I drew another blank.Bowman, the mortgage broker, returned to his office. Not only was itquite certain that none of the gold was hidden there, but he explainedhis absence so thoroughly that it was impossible to suppose he hadanything to do with the affair.

  Two or three days slipped by, days of strenuous work, which seemedabsolutely useless, and then I got a wire from Quarles asking me tomeet him at Chiswick Station that evening, which I did.

  "I must apologize, Wigan," was his greeting. "It's my temperament, Isuppose, but I cannot help keeping a line of argument to myself untilI find that it really leads somewhere. This was my theory with regardto Ewing. Since he did not make friends, either in the bank or out ofit, he was likely to be something of a dreamer. Such men usually are,unless they have some definite hobby to employ them. We heard of nosuch hobby in Ewing's case, and the fact that his rise in the bank hadbeen rapid suggested a competent and conscientious worker. But he wasa dreamer, all the same--a man looking forward to the future, and aman who dreams in this way usually looks forward to some definitepoint. In the case of a young man--and Ewing is not old--that pointmay be a woman. So I examined Ewing's desk. He was given to scribblingon it and smearing out the writing. There were a quantity of inksmudges, but some pen marks remained, figures for the most part, and Ifound a name--Ursula. That rejoiced me; it might have been Mary, andfor one Ursula there are--well, a great many Marys in the world. Ilooked for a second name, dreading to find Smith. I found UrsulaEwing, that was his dream, Wigan; but I also found Ursula Yerbury. Ifhe were in love with Ursula Yerbury, which seemed probable, and shewith him, which of course was not certain, then I argued that she mustlive in easy distance from Hammersmith. If not, he would haveconstantly received letters from her, and we know that he receivedvery few letters. Also, if they were in love, he might have deceivedher regarding his dismissal, or she would keep his secret and shieldhim. Inquiry for her must therefore be made carefully, and I set Zenato work--a girl looking for a girl friend she had lost sight of. Itproved easier than it might have been. We found there was a man namedYerbury living in Fulham; he was the third of the name Zena had tried,and he had a niece, Ursula, living in lodgings here in Chiswick. Sheis a typist, and should be home by this time in the evening. She isexpecting an old school friend--that was the vague message Zena leftwith her landlady--she will see us."

  "I congratulate you, professor; it looks as if you had got on Ewing'strack."

  "We shall know better in an hour's time," he answered. "No. 10 OldCedar Lane is the address. Pleasant flavor in some of these Chiswicknames."

  There was nothing particularly striking about Ursula Yerbury, but herpersonality grew upon one. The moment we entered her small butcomfortable sitting-room it was apparent to me that she was on herguard. She had expected some old school friend, and had been tricked.Quarles came to the point at once. To clear up the mystery of thesensational robbery in the city, he wanted to find Frederick Ewing.Miss Yerbury knew him, of course, and could no doubt supply theinformation.

  "You have had your journey in vain," she answered.

  "That is a pity," Quarles said, and in short, terse sentences he toldher the history of the robbery, so far as we knew it, speaking ofEwing's dishonesty in a cold, matter-of-fact way, and giving reasonswhy Ewing should be suspected of helping a gang.

  "Now, my dear young lady, I'm an eccentric," he went on. "One pettytheft does not make a criminal, and I do not believe Frederick Ewingis a criminal. But do not mistake me; if he cannot be found he willcertainly be branded as one."

  "I do not know where he is," she answered firmly, though her lipsquivered.

  "Still, you may know enough to help me to clear his name," saidQuarles.

  "You mean--but he told me himself."

  "Ah, that is what I mean," said Quarles. "You can tell me something.Take my word for it, you will be doing Ewing a service by telling mewhat you know."

  The professor looked exceedingly benevolent, and his tone waspersuasive. It was so necessary to obtain information that the meanswere justified--one cannot be sentimental in detective work--yet Ipitied the woman.

  "You know that Mr. Ewing was dismissed from the bank--and why?" shesaid.

  Quarles nodded.

  "He did not tell me at first. He wrote to me, saying he had been sentout of town on business. I had no suspicion that anything was wrong.Some days later I received a telegram asking me to meet him nearVictoria. It was then he told me of his dismissal. He had supposedthat he would not be prosecuted, but the bank had, after all, decidedto make an example of him. He had gone away to hide himself. A friendwas helping him to get out of the country, and----"

  "Who was the friend?" asked Quarles.

  "Frederick would not say. He had promised not to tell anyone who hewas; indeed, he had promised not to hold any communication withanyone. The latter promise he had broken by meeting me. We were--weare engaged. I would not take back my freedom. He will write to mepresently, and then I shall join him wherever he is."

  "That was bef
ore the great robbery of the bank," said Quarles.

  "Days before," she answered.

  "And you do not know where he is now?"

  "No."

  I had pitied her, now I could not help admiring her. Of course, thestory was a fabrication. She had met Quarles on his own ground, andbeaten him. She had seen through his persuasive manner, and in a fewwords had entirely dissociated her lover from the robbery, and shownthe futility of attempting to find him. The professor did not let hersee his disappointment.

  "Most useful information, Miss Yerbury," he said. "I am sure you willnot regret having told me the truth."

  He was silent for a little while, as we went back to the station, andthen he said suddenly:

  "A queer story, Wigan."

  "Clever!" I answered.

  "Extremely clever. We have a curious rogue to deal with, the motiveobscure. There's a very strange mental twist somewhere."

  "And we're no nearer a solution of the problem," I said.

  "Anyway, we'll visit the bank again to-morrow. Eleven o'clock, Wigan.Until then I want to be alone. Good night!"

  We could not see Mr. Wickstead at once when we went to the bank nextday, and although the general manager apologized for keeping uswaiting, he was evidently very busy, and wanted to be rid of us asquickly as possible.

  "I'm afraid you don't make much progress," he said. "My directors arebeginning to say that the publicity is worse than the loss."

  "We go slowly," I answered; "but for the general safety publicity isnecessary in an affair of this kind."

  "We will not detain you," said Quarles. "I can see we have come at aninconvenient time. Just one question. Had the locks of the strong-roomdoors been repaired recently?"

  "No. They were in excellent order."

  "It has not even been necessary to have new keys made?"

  "No."

  Quarles rose, and thanked him; then, as he reached the door, hepaused.

  "Oh, it may interest you to know that we have got on the track ofFrederick Ewing," he said.

  "Then there has been some progress. I am glad. Still, I am afraidEwing will not be able to throw much light on this affair. Where ishe?"

  "Abroad," Quarles answered. "We expect to have definite informationthis afternoon. It is often easier to find criminals when they goabroad than when they remain hidden in England."

  When we were outside the bank Quarles began to chuckle.

  "It doesn't do to let these fellows think we are doing nothing, Wigan;and, in a sense, we have got on Ewing's track. We have found thewoman. Isn't that always considered the great point?"

  "This seems to be one of the exceptions which are supposed to provethe rule," I answered.

  "We'll get back to Chelsea. I daresay Zena can give us some lunch."

  From that moment until the three of us retired to the empty roomafter lunch Quarles would not talk about the case, but when we were inthe empty room he began at once.

  "Zena from the first suggested that we must find Frederick Ewing,"said Quarles; "and her intuition was right. We know--at least I thinkwe may take it as an established fact--that a very expert gang hasbeen at work in London during the past few months, and it wasreasonable to assume that this robbery was their work, with the helpof someone connected with the bank. Practically speaking, it wouldhave been impossible without inside and absolutely accurateinformation. A process of elimination left Ewing as the likely personto give this help. We need not go over all the difficulties the gangwould have to contend with; they were many, not the least being thesuccessful removal of the spoil; but I asked myself whether this gangwas not a sort of obsession with us, whether the robbery might nothave been a one-man job. You will remember I questioned the generalmanager on the possibility of Ewing being alone in the strong-rooms,and whether the gold might not have been removed by degrees. Helaughed at the idea, but ridicule never yet made me give up a theory.I looked for something to support my theory, and I found many things.The action of the explosive had been peculiar. The manner of thedamage was not quite what one would have expected from gelignite, orsome equally powerful preparation. Further, why was Coulsdon found inthe outer safe? It is reasonable to suppose that he was renderedinsensible before the explosion took place, or he might have heard it.Why, then, should he be dragged into the safe? A gang would not havetroubled to do this, but, if the job were a one-man affair, the thiefmight reasonably want to keep his eye upon the porter in case heshould recover consciousness. Now, to come back to the explosion, itseemed to me that so far as the door of the inner strong-room wasconcerned it had not been locked, at any rate not fully locked, whenthe explosion took place. Was there any support to this theory to befound? Yes. I will show you presently the debris I picked out of thelock. It contains portions--small, but quite recognizable--of a key,not polished, as would be the case if used constantly, but rough. Thissuggested that duplicate keys had been made. That key, Wigan, Ibelieve, was in the lock when the explosion took place. It was blownto pieces by the explosion, but the burglar must have discovered hismistake, and gathered up the pieces, for I could discover nothingeither on the strong-room floor or in the passage without. I foundanother support to my theory in the window on the roof. Someone hadgot out as well as in--got out, Wigan, to hide, and got in again whenthe moment for action had come."

  "But----"

  "I haven't finished yet," said Quarles, interrupting me. "Obviouslyone man couldn't remove all that gold and get it away from the citythat night. The robber, with the duplicate keys he had in hispossession, could go to that strong-room when he liked; all he had todo was to take the precaution that he was not seen. A very few visitssufficed, no doubt; but on each occasion he brought away some spoilwith him, which he concealed, I imagine, somewhere in the bank, wherehe could easily get at it. The robbery extended over a period of time,that is my point, and whether dummy bags were substituted for thosetaken, or a bag was gradually emptied, does not matter."

  "But, my dear professor, your ingenious theory overlooks the factthat, if it were true, there would be no use for the finalcatastrophe--for attacking the porter and blowing up the strong-room."

  "Ah! that brings me to the mental attitude of the thief. I think weshall find that an inspection of those strong-rooms was imminent, andthe thief was anxious, first, to make a last addition to his store,and, secondly, to suggest the work of a gang, and so minimize all riskto himself. Besides----"

  The professor paused. There was a knock at the door, and the servantbrought in a telegram. Quarles opened it and read it.

  "Besides, one has to consider the mental twist a man may have," hewent on. "We shall probably find in this case that at the back of therobbery was an awful dread of the future, of the helplessness andpoverty that might come into it, an abnormal morbidness which soconstantly drives men to strange actions."

  "But how could Ewing manage to conceal himself in the bank, or getinto it even? Everybody knew him, everybody probably knew of hisdismissal."

  "How about the window in the roof?" said Quarles, handing me thetelegram, and I read: "Left early this afternoon; returned home."

  "That refers to the general manager, Mr. Wickstead," said Quarles."Probably he does not intend to remain at home, but we may catch himthere. I have a man watching him. I thought my statement that we hadtraced Ewing would frighten him. He is the thief, Wigan. He is alsothe friend Ewing spoke about to Ursula Yerbury. Don't you see thecleverness? He helped Ewing out of the country, after frightening himby saying that a prosecution had been decided upon; sent him somewherewhere he was not likely to hear of the robbery, and tried to throwdust in our eyes by expressing pity for him and a belief in hisinnocence."

  "If you are right, what a villain!" I exclaimed.

  "An abnormal dread of the future, Wigan; I think we shall find that isat the bottom of it, and we shall probably find also that the whole ofthe spoil is intact. The law, of course, cannot enter into thesecurious mental attitudes. Come! I think we shall provide a sensationfor the world of fin
ance."

  The arrest of Mr. Wickstead when he was on the point of bolting, andhis subsequent confession, certainly made a sensation; and, as Quarleshad surmised, the whole of the money and the jewels were foundconcealed in Mr. Wickstead's house.

  The manner of the robbery was much as Quarles had imagined it, andthere is little doubt that Wickstead was in an abnormal mentalcondition. But he was not mad, and was sentenced to a long term ofimprisonment.

  It was a sad case altogether, the only bright spot in it being themarriage of Ursula Yerbury to the man she had trusted, in spite of hislapse from the path of rectitude.