The Red Triangle Read online

  II

  It was at this point that my humble part in the case began, for Hewitthurried first to my rooms.

  "Brett," he exclaimed, "are you engaged this afternoon?"

  "No--nothing important."

  "Will you do me a small favour? I have a rather interesting case. I wanta man watched for an hour or so, and I haven't a soul to do it. Kerrett_may_ be known, and I _am_ known. Besides, there is another job forKerrett."

  Of course, I expressed myself willing to do what I could.

  "Capital," replied Hewitt. "Come along--you like these adventures, Iknow, or I wouldn't have asked you; and you know the dodges in this sortof observation. The man is one Samuel, a Jew, of 150 Hatton Garden,diamond dealer. I'll tell you more afterwards. Kerrett and I are goinginto the offices next door, and I want you to wait thereabout. PresentlyI will come downstairs with him and he will go away. An hour or so willbe enough, probably."

  I followed Hewitt downstairs. He took Kerrett with him and locked hisoffice door. I saw them both disappear within the large new building,and I waited near a convenient postal pillar-box, prepared to seem verybusy with a few old letters from my pocket until my man's back wasturned.

  In a very few minutes Hewitt reappeared, this time with a man--a Jew,obviously--whom I remembered having seen already at the door of thatoffice more than an hour before, as I had passed on the way from thebookseller's at the corner. The man walked briskly up the street, and I,on the opposite side, did the same, a little in the rear.

  He turned the corner, and at once slackened his pace and looked abouthim. He took a peep back along the street he had left, and then hailed acab.

  For a hundred yards or more I was obliged to trot, till I saw anothercab drop its fare just ahead, and managed to secure it and give thecabman instructions to follow the cab in front, before it turned acorner. The chase was difficult, for the horse that drew me was a poorone, and half a dozen times I thought I had lost sight of the other cabaltogether; but my cabman was better than his animal, and from his highperch he kept the chase in view, turning corners and picking out the cabahead among a dozen others with surprising certainty. We went acrossCharing Cross Road by way of Cranborne Street, past Leicester Square,through Coventry Street and up the Quadrant and Regent Street. At OxfordCircus the Jew's cab led us to the left, and along Oxford Street wechased it past Bond Street end. Suddenly my cab pulled up with a jerk,and the driver spoke through the trapdoor. "That fare's getting down,sir," he said, "at the corner o' Duke Street."

  I thrust a half-crown up through the hole and sprang out. "'E's crossingthe road, sir," the cabman finally reported, and I hurried across thestreet accordingly.

  The man I was watching was strikingly Jewish enough, and easy todistinguish in a crowd. I had almost overtaken him before he had gone adozen yards up the northern end of Duke Street. He walked on intoManchester Square. There a small, neat brougham, with blinds drawn, wasbeing driven slowly round the central garden. I saw Samuel walkhurriedly up to this brougham, which stopped as he approached. Hestepped quickly into the carriage and shut the door behind him. Thebrougham resumed its slow progress, and I loitered, keeping it in view,though the blinds were drawn so close that it was impossible to guesswho might be Samuel's companion, if he had one. I think I have said thatwhen the Jew came to the office door with Hewitt I perceived that he wasa man I had seen before that day. I was now convinced that I had alsoseen that same brougham, at the same time; but of this presently.

  The carriage made one slow circuit, and then Samuel got out and shut thedoor quickly again. I took the precaution of turning my back and lettinghim overtake and pass me on his way back through Duke Street. At the endof the street he mounted an omnibus going east, and I took another seatin the same vehicle. The rest was uninteresting. He went direct to No.150 Hatton Garden, and there remained. I read his name on the door-postamong a score of others, and after a twenty-minutes' wait I returned tomy rooms. I had no doubt that it was the meeting in the brougham thatHewitt wished reported, and I remembered his rule was never to watch aman a moment after the main object was secured.

  Hewitt was out, and he did not return till after dusk. Then he camestraightway to my rooms.

  "Well, Brett," he said, "what's the report? As a matter of fact, Samuelis my client, as I shall explain presently. I don't like spying on aclient, as a rule, but I was convinced that he was keeping somethingback from me, and there was something odd about his whole story. Butwhat did you see?"

  I told Hewitt the tale of my pursuit as I have told it here. "I cameaway," I concluded, "after it seemed that he was settled in his officefor a bit. But there is another thing you should know. When he firstcame out with you I recognised him at once as a man I had seen at thatsame door a little after two o'clock--say a quarter past."

  "Yes?" answered Hewitt. "I saw him there myself a littlesooner--something like two, I should say. What was he doing?"

  "Well," I replied, "he was doing pretty well what he did in ManchesterSquare. For as a matter of fact the brougham also was here then--justoutside the next-door office. I think I might swear to that samebrougham--though of course I didn't notice it so particularly that firsttime."

  Hewitt whistled. "Oh!" he said. "Tell me about this. Did he get into thebrougham this time?"

  "Yes. He came out of the office door with a black leather case in hishand and a very scared look on his face. And he popped into thebrougham, leather case, scared look and all."

  "Ho--ho!" said Hewitt, thoughtfully, and whistled again. "A blackleather case, eh! Come, come, the plot thickens. And what happened? Didthe carriage go off?"

  "No; I saw nothing more--shouldn't have noticed so much, in fact, if thewhole thing hadn't looked a trifle curious. Nervous, pallid Jew with ablack case--as though he thought it was dynamite and might go off at anymoment--closed brougham, blinds drawn, Jew skipped in and banged thedoor, but brougham didn't move; and I fancied--perhaps onlyfancied--that I saw a woman's black veil inside. But then I turned inhere and saw no more."

  Hewitt sat thoughtfully silent for a few moments. Then he rose and said,"Come next door, and I'll tell you how we stand. The housekeeper willlet us in, and we'll see if you can identify that black case anywhere."

  It seemed that Hewitt had by this established a good understanding withthe housekeeper next door. "Nobody's been, sir," the man said, as headmitted us and closed the heavy doors. "Office boy not come back, nornothing."

  We went up to Denson's office on the third floor, the door of which thehousekeeper opened; and having turned on the electric light, he leftus.

  "Now, is that anything like the case?" Hewitt asked, when thehousekeeper was gone; and he lifted from under the table the very blackcase I had seen Samuel take into the brougham.

  I said that I felt as sure of the case as of the brougham. And thenHewitt told me the whole tale of Samuel and his loss of fifteen thousandpounds' worth of diamonds, just as it appears earlier in this narrative.

  "Now, see here," said Hewitt, when he had made me acquainted with hisclient's tale, "there is something odd about all this. See thispost-card which Samuel gave me. It is from Denson, and it makes thismorning's appointment. See! 'Be down below at eleven sharp' is themessage. He came and he waited just two hours and a quarter, as he tellsme, being certain to the time within five minutes. That brings, us to aquarter-past one--the time when he finds he is robbed; and he camedownstairs in a very agitated state at a quarter-past one, as I havesince ascertained. At two I pass and see him still dancing distractedlyon the front steps--certainly very much like a man who has had a seriousmisfortune, or expects one. At a quarter-past two--that was about it, Ithink?" (I nodded) "At a quarter-past two you see him, still agitated,diving into the brougham with this black case in his hand; and a littleafterward--after all this, mind--he tells me this story of a robbery ofdiamonds from that very case, and assures me that he sent for me themoment he discovered the loss--that is to say, at a quarter-past one, apositive lie--and has told nobody else. He fu
rther assures me that hehas told me everything that has happened up to the moment he meets me.Then he goes away--to his office, as he tells me. But you find himposting to Manchester Square in a cab, and there once more plunging intothat same mysterious closed brougham. Now why should he do that? He hasseen the person in that brougham, presumably, an hour before, and therecan be nothing more to communicate, except the result of his interviewwith me--a thing I warned him to keep to himself. It's odd, isn't it?"

  "It is. What can be his motive?"

  "I want to know his motive. I object to working for a client whodeceives me--indeed, it's unsafe. I may be making myself an accomplicein some criminal scheme. You observe that he never called for thepolice--a natural impulse in a robbed man. Indeed, he expressly vetoesall communication with the police."

  "Of course he gave reasons."

  "But the reasons are not good enough. I can't stop a man leaving thiscountry anywhere round the coast except by going to the police."

  "Can it be," I suggested, "that Samuel and Denson are working incollusion, and have perhaps insured the stones, and now want your helpto make out a case of loss?"

  "Scarcely that, I think, for more than one reason. First, it isn't arisk any insurer would take, in the circumstances. Next, the insurerwould certainly want to know why the police were not informed at once.But there is more. I have not been idle this while, as you would know.I will tell you some of the things I have ascertained. To begin with,Samuel is known in Hatton Garden only as a dealer on a very small andpeddling scale. A dabbler in commissions, in fact, rather than a buyerand seller of diamonds in quantities on his own account. His office isnothing but a desk in a small room he shares with two others--smalldealers like himself. When I spoke to the people most likely to know, ofhis offering fifteen thousand pounds' worth of diamonds on his ownaccount, they laughed. An investment of two or three hundred pounds instones was about his limit, they said. Now that fact offers freshsuggestions, doesn't it?" Hewitt looked at me significantly.

  "You mean," I said after a little consideration, "that Samuel may havebeen entrusted with the diamonds to sell by the real owner, and has madeall these arrangements with Denson to get the gems for themselves andrepresent them as stolen?"

  Hewitt nodded thoughtfully. "There's that possibility," he said. "Thougheven in that case the owner would certainly want to know why the policehad not been told, and I don't know what satisfactory answer Samuelcould make. And more, I find that no such robbery has been reported toany of the principal dealers in Hatton Garden to-day; and, so far as Ican ascertain, none of them has entrusted Samuel with anything like solarge a quantity of diamonds as he talks of--lately, at any rate."

  "Isn't it possible that the diamonds are purely imaginary?" I suggested."Mightn't there be some trick played on that basis? Perhaps a trick onthe American customer--if there was one."

  Hewitt was thoughtful. "There are many possibilities," he said, "which Imust consider. The diamonds may even be stolen property to begin with;that would account for a great deal, though perhaps not all. But thewhole thing is so oddly suspicious, that unless my client is willing tolet me a great deal further into his confidence to-morrow morning Ishall throw up the case."

  "Did you direct any inquiries after Denson?"

  "Of course; which brings me to the other things I have ascertained. Hehas not been here long--a few months. I cannot find that he has beendoing any particular business all the time with anybody except Samuel.With him, however, he seems to have been very friendly. The housekeeperspeaks of them as being 'very thick together.' The rooms are cheaplyfurnished, as you see. And here is another thing to consider. Thehousekeeper vows that he never left his glass box at the foot of thestairs from the time Samuel went upstairs first to the time when he camedown again, vastly agitated, at a quarter-past one, and sent a message;and during all that time _Denson never passed the box_! And the maindoor is the only way out."

  "But wasn't he there at all?"

  "Yes, he was there, certainly, when Samuel came. But note, now. Observethe sequence of things as we know them now. First, there is Denson inhis office; I can find nothing of any American visitor, and I amconvinced that he is a total fiction, either of Denson's or Samuel andDenson together. Denson is in his office. To him comes Samuel. Neitherleaves the place till Samuel comes down at a quarter-past one o'clock. Itold you he sent some sort of message. The housekeeper tells me that hecalled a passing commissionaire and gave him something, though whetherit was a telegram or a note he did not see; nor does he know thecommissionaire, nor his number--though he could easily be found if itbecame necessary, no doubt. Samuel sends the message, and waits on thesteps, watching, in an agitated manner (as would be natural, perhaps, ina man engaged in an anxious and ticklish piece of illegality) for anhour, when this mysterious brougham appears. He takes this black caseinto the brougham, and he obviously brings it out again, for here it is.Whatever has happened, he brings it out empty. Then he sends thehousekeeper for me. When at length I arrive, Denson has certainly gone,but there was an opportunity for that while the housekeeper was absenton the message to my office--_after_ all Samuel's agitation, and afterhe had carried his case to and from the brougham."

  "The whole thing is odd enough, certainly, and suspicious enough. Haveyou found anything else?"

  "Yes. Denson lives, or lived, in a boarding house in Bloomsbury. He hasonly been there two months, however, and they know practically nothingof him. To-day he came home at an unusual time, letting himself in withhis latchkey, and went away at once with a bag, but the accounts of theexact time are contradictory. One servant thought it was before twelve,and another insisted that it was after one. He has not been back."

  "And the office boy--can't you get some information out of him?"

  "He hasn't been seen since the morning. I expect Denson told him to takea whole holiday. I can't find where he lives, at the moment, but nodoubt he will turn up to-morrow. Not that I expect to get much from him.But I shan't bother. Unless Mr. Samuel will answer satisfactorily somevery plain questions I shall ask--and I don't expect he will--I shallthrow up the commission. He called, by the way, not long ago, but I wasout. We shall see him in the morning, I expect."

  A look round Denson's office taught me no more than it had taught Hewittalready. There were two small rooms, one inside the other, with ordinaryand cheap office furniture. It was quite plain that any man of ordinaryactivity and size could have got out of the inner room into the corridorby the means which Samuel suggested--through the hinged wall-light, nearthe ceiling. Hewitt had meddled with nothing--he would do no more tillhe was satisfied of the _bona fides_ of his client; certainly he wouldnot commit himself to breaking open desks or cupboards. And so, the timefor my attendance at the office approaching--I was working on the_Morning Ph[oe]nix_ then, and ten at night saw my work begin--we shutDenson's office, and went away.