Delphi Complete Works of Arthur Morrison Read online

  The Complete Works of

  ARTHUR MORRISON

  (1863-1945)

  Contents

  The Martin Hewitt Books

  MARTIN HEWITT, INVESTIGATOR

  CHRONICLES OF MARTIN HEWITT

  ADVENTURES OF MARTIN HEWITT

  THE RED TRIANGLE

  The Novels

  A CHILD OF THE JAGO

  TO LONDON TOWN

  CUNNING MURRELL

  THE HOLE IN THE WALL

  The Short Story Collections

  THE SHADOWS AROUND US

  TALES OF MEAN STREETS

  ZIG-ZAGS AT THE ZOO

  THE DORRINGTON DEED BOX

  THE GREEN EYE OF GOONA

  DIVERS VANITIES

  GREEN GINGER

  FIDDLE O’DREAMS AND MORE

  The Short Stories

  LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER

  LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

  The Non-Fiction

  HOW TO WRITE A SHORT STORY

  The Delphi Classics Catalogue

  © Delphi Classics 2016

  Version 1

  The Complete Works of

  ARTHUR MORRISON

  By Delphi Classics, 2016

  COPYRIGHT

  Complete Works of Arthur Morrison

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2016 by Delphi Classics.

  © Delphi Classics, 2016.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published.

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  is an imprint of

  Delphi Publishing Ltd

  Hastings, East Sussex

  United Kingdom

  Contact: [email protected]

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  The Martin Hewitt Books

  Grundy Street, Poplar, East London — Morrison’s birthplace. Most of the houses were destroyed during the Blitz and the birthplace no longer stands.

  Grundy Street, c. 1907

  MARTIN HEWITT, INVESTIGATOR

  In December 1893, fictitious sleuth Sherlock Holmes was sent to his death at the Reichenbach Falls by his creator, Arthur Conan Doyle. Whilst fans of Holmes were dismayed and bombarded Conan Doyle with pleas to somehow resurrect Holmes so he could appear in more stories, editors of magazines similar to The Strand (where the Holmes stories regularly appeared) immediately searched around for a viable substitute detective and author, to attract the Holmes fan base. Morrison was one of many authors that sought to fill this new gap in the market and Martin Hewitt was the result, chosen by The Strand to counteract this exodus of readers. By March 1894, Martin Hewitt was introduced to readers, but his reception, although favourable, was also somewhat confused. The Leeds Times of 24 March 1894 reported that in Martin Hewitt “we have Sherlock Holmes, redivivus [reborn], and from internal evidence, we have little hesitation in attributing this new detective story to Conan Doyle. Why did Dr. Doyle kill Sherlock qua Sherlock and bring him back to life as Martin Hewitt is a problem utterly beyond us.....’Martin Hewitt, Investigator’ is anonymous, and if Conan Doyle did not write it, then we pay the author the compliment of saying that Conan Doyle might have written it”. It would seem that The Strand had succeeded in finding a worthy successor to their famous detective.

  Does Martin Hewitt really stand up to close inspection as a successor to one of the greatest fictional detectives of all time? He is certainly very different as a person. Firstly, Holmes is tall and lean, and Hewitt is of average height and rather plump. Hewitt is a loner, but has a kindly and friendly manner – definitely not qualities that Holmes was known for. There is no sharpness of manner about Hewitt, and interestingly, he conforms to one of the popular stereotypes of the media used for police detectives in the nineteenth century – that they are so bland and ordinary, that one would walk past them in the street and have no inkling of a fine analytical mind and strong powers of observation which undoubtedly existed. Holmes was arrogant and was vain enough to want people to know of his abilities. Genial of manner and with a twinkle in his eye, Hewitt uses his apparent sympathy and interpersonal skills to coax information from witnesses, which is far from Holmes’ techniques – he has Watson as an alter ego to offer a softer aspect to the investigation. Hewitt does have an assistant, a journalist named Brett, but his role is slightly different to Watson’s; however, both assistants narrate the exploits of their detective friends for the reader to enjoy. Hewitt does not use disguises, except perhaps for a pair of spectacles, whereas Holmes is a master of disguise. Hewitt also does not have an ambivalent attitude towards the police, rather he appreciates working with them, whereas Holmes is often scathing of the “Met”.

  As for the investigations themselves, their success depends for both detectives on their own skills, solving the crime with logic, attention to finer details and deduction, but Hewitt comes across as more instinctive in his work - “he himself always consistently maintains that he has no system beyond a judicious use of ordinary faculties”, whereas Holmes is a scientist and fiercely, icily logical. These are qualities that would appeal to the largely male readership of The Strand — logic, science and the edgy world of crime being largely a man’s domain in real life anyway. Many of the crimes each detective tackled have similar themes — theft, robbery, missing jewels, restoration of a person’s good name, revenge, murder and deception. In addition, quintessentially middle class values of the maintenance of respectability, the triumph of justice, the protection of commerce, fair play and the gentle sex, are featured strongly in both sets of stories. Other themes that reflect public anxieties of the times are the threat of anarchists (often mysterious, deadly and definitely not British) and other minority groups such as gypsies, who are seen as exotic and not necessarily in a pleasant way. These tales concern ingenious or deceptively complex crimes which require the services of an equally agile mind to solve them, one that is capable of lateral thinking, code breaking, handwriting analysis, intense scrutiny of the clues and possessing an expansive general knowledge.

  Although there are similarities between the two detectives, the differences are also strong enough to make each one appealing in his own right. There is a more lightweight feel to the Hewitt stories, perhaps as befits his more bourgeois background; Holmes is very much a man of the establishment by birth, with his brother in a secret and high level government position. Hewitt is clean living it would seem, with none of the addictive behaviour of Holmes and so one loses some of the thrill of watching a man struggle with his demons – and on occasion, lose. One could wish that Morrison had tried harder to create plots that did not owe anything to Conan Doyle, but then Morrison had been engaged to replace Conan Doyle, and no doubt the journalistic discipline which informed all his other work kept him strictly to his brief. All in all, Hewitt is an affable and astute fellow, and worth getting to know.

  In this fi
rst collection of seven stories, we are introduced to Hewitt, who leaves his position at the law firm of Crellan, Hunt and Crellan in order to try his hand as a private detective, believing that his reputation as a capable sleuth will earn him a better income. In the very first tale, The Lenton Croft Robberies, a Mr Lloyd calls on Hewitt in his office. He is the secretary to Sir James Norris of Lenton Croft, where a series of jewel thefts have occurred. The jewels have been taken from rooms that cannot be entered or left without being observed and in the place of the jewels, is left a burnt match. For a sizeable fee, Hewitt is engaged to solve the crimes, which are essentially “locked room” mysteries. Another locked room mystery in the collection is The Case of Mr. Foggatt, in which the aforementioned Mr. Foggatt is found dead, apparently by his own hand. However, the deceased is discovered in a locked room and a murderer could not have escaped without being seen by Hewitt himself. A crucial clue has been left at the scene – an apple, partially eaten with teeth marks in it. Hewitt must now find out who bit into the apple, and equally importantly, how the murderer (Hewitt does not believe that the deceased shot himself) fled from the scene of the crime. However, once the murderer is identified, the case becomes more complicated, not less.

  The Loss of Sammy Crockett revolves around the disappearance of a promising young athlete. The publican who has been promoting the lad cannot afford to pay Hewitt’s fees as investigator, so Hewitt offers to help out for free. Hewitt finds some fragments of a torn up letter in the lane and Hewitt’s attentions are drawn to Steggles, the trainer of the missing athlete and to some unoccupied shops in the nearby town.

  The Quinton Jewel Affair touches on a perennial problem in the countryside - that of the impoverished gentry solving their financial problems by finding a bride amongst the nouveau riche, in this case, the daughter of a wealthy financier. Lady Quinton brought with her to the marriage a large quantity of beautiful jewels, but before long she is robbed. Hewitt is not going to take on the case despite the large reward on offer, but his attention is captured by an agitated Irishman with a tale of woe to tell, and suddenly two seemingly disparate cases become linked.

  More jewellery is central to The Stanway Cameo Mystery — another case focussing on stolen property – a valuable cameo which is destined to be a donation to the British Museum, but at the time of the theft, was at the premises of Mr. Claridge, a dealer. Somehow, the jewel is stolen even though the shop is being watched by a policeman. Mr. Woolett, a neighbour, comes under suspicion, but Hewitt has other ideas about who the culprit might be. This is a tale in which natural justice is used to achieve a satisfactory outcome.

  The final story in the first Hewitt collection is The Affair of the Tortoise, and it is told very much in retrospect, as the events took place in 1878. A strange murder case comes to Hewitt’s attention, in which the body of the deceased disappears. The murder weapon was an axe owned by the odd job man, who has also disappeared and thus looks like the guilty party. All that is left of the murdered man is a paper on which is written the words “puni par un vengeur de la tortue”— ‘punished by an avenger of the tortoise’. The odd job man is French and it is his axe that has murdered the missing man. It is now up to Hewitt to find out where both the living and the dead man are, and solve the mystery as to who did what.

  The first edition

  CONTENTS

  THE LENTON CROFT ROBBERIES

  THE LOSS OF SAMMY CROCKETT

  THE CASE OF MR. FOGGATT

  THE CASE OF THE DIXON TORPEDO

  THE QUINTON JEWEL AFFAIR

  THE STANWAY CAMEO MYSTERY

  THE AFFAIR OF THE TORTOISE

  The original frontispiece

  THE LENTON CROFT ROBBERIES

  Those who retain any memory of the great law cases of fifteen or twenty years back will remember, at least, the title of that extraordinary will case, “Bartley v. Bartley and others,” which occupied the Probate Court for some weeks on end, and caused an amount of public interest rarely accorded to any but the cases considered in the other division of the same court. The case itself was noted for the large quantity of remarkable and unusual evidence presented by the plaintiff’s side — evidence that took the other party completely by surprise, and overthrew their case like a house of cards. The affair will, perhaps, be more readily recalled as the occasion of the sudden rise to eminence in their profession of Messrs. Crellan, Hunt & Crellan, solicitors for the plaintiff — a result due entirely to the wonderful ability shown in this case of building up, apparently out of nothing, a smashing weight of irresistible evidence. That the firm has since maintained — indeed enhanced — the position it then won for itself need scarcely be said here; its name is familiar to everybody. But there are not many of the outside public who know that the credit of the whole performance was primarily due to a young clerk in the employ of Messrs. Crellan, who had been given charge of the seemingly desperate task of collecting evidence in the case.

  This Mr. Martin Hewitt had, however, full credit and reward for his exploit from his firm and from their client, and more than one other firm of lawyers engaged in contentious work made good offers to entice Hewitt to change his employers. Instead of this, however, he determined to work independently for the future, having conceived the idea of making a regular business of doing, on behalf of such clients as might retain him, similar work to that he had just done with such conspicuous success for Messrs. Crellan, Hunt & Crellan. This was the beginning of the private detective business of Martin Hewitt, and his action at that time has been completely justified by the brilliant professional successes he has since achieved.

  His business has always been conducted in the most private manner, and he has always declined the help of professional assistants, preferring to carry out himself such of the many investigations offered him as he could manage. He has always maintained that he has never lost by this policy, since the chance of his refusing a case begets competition for his services, and his fees rise by a natural process. At the same time, no man could know better how to employ casual assistance at the right time.

  Some curiosity has been expressed as to Mr. Martin Hewitt’s system, and, as he himself always consistently maintains that he has no system beyond a judicious use of ordinary faculties, I intend setting forth in detail a few of the more interesting of his cases in order that the public may judge for itself if I am right in estimating Mr. Hewitt’s “ordinary faculties” as faculties very extraordinary indeed. He is not a man who has made many friendships (this, probably, for professional reasons), notwithstanding his genial and companionable manners. I myself first made his acquaintance as a result of an accident resulting in a fire at the old house in which Hewitt’s office was situated, and in an upper floor of which I occupied bachelor chambers. I was able to help in saving a quantity of extremely important papers relating to his business, and, while repairs were being made, allowed him to lock them in an old wall-safe in one of my rooms which the fire had scarcely damaged.

  The acquaintance thus begun has lasted many years, and has become a rather close friendship. I have even accompanied Hewitt on some of his expeditions, and, in a humble way, helped him. Such of the cases, however, as I personally saw nothing of I have put into narrative form from the particulars given me.

  “I consider you, Brett,” he said, addressing me, “the most remarkable journalist alive. Not because you’re particularly clever, you know, because, between ourselves, I hope you’ll admit you’re not; but because you have known something of me and my doings for some years, and have never yet been guilty of giving away any of my little business secrets you may have become acquainted with. I’m afraid you’re not so enterprising a journalist as some, Brett. But now, since you ask, you shall write something — if you think it worth while.”

  This he said, as he said most things, with a cheery, chaffing good-nature that would have been, perhaps, surprising to a stranger who thought of him only as a grim and mysterious discoverer of secrets and crimes. Indeed, the man had always
as little of the aspect of the conventional detective as may be imagined. Nobody could appear more cordial or less observant in manner, although there was to be seen a certain sharpness of the eye — which might, after all, only be the twinkle of good humor.

  I did think it worth while to write something of Martin Hewitt’s investigations, and a description of one of his adventures follows.

  At the head of the first flight of a dingy staircase leading up from an ever-open portal in a street by the Strand stood a door, the dusty ground-glass upper panel of which carried in its center the single word “Hewitt,” while at its right-hand lower corner, in smaller letters, “Clerk’s Office” appeared. On a morning when the clerks in the ground-floor offices had barely hung up their hats, a short, well-dressed young man, wearing spectacles, hastening to open the dusty door, ran into the arms of another man who suddenly issued from it.

  “I beg pardon,” the first said. “Is this Hewitt’s Detective Agency Office?”

  “Yes, I believe you will find it so,” the other replied. He was a stoutish, clean-shaven man, of middle height, and of a cheerful, round countenance. “You’d better speak to the clerk.”

  In the little outer office the visitor was met by a sharp lad with inky fingers, who presented him with a pen and a printed slip. The printed slip having been filled with the visitor’s name and present business, and conveyed through an inner door, the lad reappeared with an invitation to the private office. There, behind a writing-table, sat the stoutish man himself, who had only just advised an appeal to the clerk.

  “Good-morning, Mr. Lloyd — Mr. Vernon Lloyd,” he said, affably, looking again at the slip. “You’ll excuse my care to start even with my visitors — I must, you know. You come from Sir James Norris, I see.”