Rivals of Sherlock Holmes, The (28 page)

  'You will understand that I am going to work upon the theory that the boy has been kidnapped and that the original intention has been carried out, in spite of the accident of your presence in the train. How the boy was disposed of meanwhile is what baffles me; but that is a detail – though it will be interesting to know how it was done. Now, I don't want to raise any false hopes, because I may very likely be wrong, but we are going to take action upon a very feasible assumption, and if I am at all correct, I hope to put you definitely on the track. Mind, I don't promise to do so, and, at best, I don't promise to do more than put you on a track. Let me see – it's just after nine. We have plenty of time. We'll drive first to Scotland Yard, for it will be as well to have a detective with us.'

  He filled a flask with milk, put some plasmon biscuits and a banana into a sandwich case, and then ordered his servant to hail a cab.

  An hour later, Hazell, Wingrave, and a man from Scotland Yard were closeted together in one of the private offices of the MidEastern Railway with one of the chief officials of the line. The latter was listening attentively to Hazell.

  'But I can't understand the boy not being anywhere in the train, Mr Hazell,' he said.

  'I can – partly,' replied Hazell, 'but first let me see if my theory is correct.'

  'By all means. There's a down-train in a few minutes. I'll go with you, for the matter is very interesting. Come along, gentlemen.'

  He walked forward to the engine and gave a few instructions to the driver, and then they took their seats in the train. After a run of half an hour or so they passed a station.

  'That's Longmoor,' said the official, 'now we shall soon be on the spot. It's about a mile down that the line is being raised.'

  Hazell put his head out of the window. Presently an ominous red light showed itself. The train came almost to a stop, and then proceeded slowly, the man who had shown the red light changing it to green. They could see him as they passed, standing close to a little temporary hut. It was his duty to warn all approaching drivers, and for this purpose he was stationed some three hundred yards in front of the bit of line that was being operated upon. Very soon they were passing this bit. Naphtha lamps shed a weird light over a busy scene, for the work was being continued night and day. A score or so of sturdy navvies were shovelling and picking along the track.

  Once more into the darkness. On the other side of the scene of operations, at the same distance, was another little hut, with a guardian for the up-train. Instead of increasing the speed in passing this hut, which would have been usual, the driver brought the train almost to a standstill. As he did so the four men got out of the carriage, jumping from the footboard to the ground. On went the train, leaving them on the left side of the down track, just opposite the little hut. They could see the man standing outside, his back partly turned to them. There was a fire in a brazier close by that dimly outlined his figure.

  He started suddenly, as they crossed the line towards him.

  'What are you doing here?' he cried. 'You've no business here – you're trespassing.'

  He was a big, strong-looking man, and he backed a little towards his hut as he spoke.

  'I am Mr Mills, the assistant-superintendent of the line,' replied the official, coming forward.

  'Beg pardon, sir; but how was I to know that?' growled the man.

  'Quite right. It's your duty to warn off strangers. How long have you been stationed here?'

  'I came on at five o'clock; I'm regular nightwatchman, sir.'

  'Ah! Pretty comfortable, eh?'

  'Yes, thank you, sir,' replied the man, wondering why the question was asked, but thinking, not unnaturally, that the assistantsuperintendent had come down with a party of engineers to supervise things.

  'Got the hut to yourself?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  Without another word, Mr Mills walked to the door of the hut. The man, his face suddenly growing pale, moved, and stood with his back to it.

'It's – it's private, sir!' he growled.

  Hazell laughed. 'All right, my man,' he said. 'I was right, I think – hullo! – look out! Don't let him go!'

  For the man had made a quick rush forward. But the Scotland Yard officer and Hazell were on him in a moment, and a few seconds later the handcuffs clicked on his wrists. Then they flung the door open, and there, lying in the corner, gagged and bound, was Horace CarrMathers.

  An exclamation of joy broke forth from Wingrave, as he opened his knife to cut the cords. But Hazell stopped him.

  'Just half a moment,' he said: 'I want to see how they've tied him up.'

  A peculiar method had been adopted in doing this. His wrists were fastened behind his back, a stout cord was round his body just under the armpits, and another cord above the knees. These were connected by a slack bit of rope.

  'All right!' went on Hazell; 'let's get the poor lad out of his troubles – there, that's better. How do you feel, my boy?'

  'Awfully stiff!' said Horace, 'but I'm not hurt. I say, sir,' he continued to Wingrave, 'how did you know I was here? I am glad you've come.'

  'The question is how did you get here?' replied Wingrave. 'Mr Hazell, here, seemed to know where you were, but it's a puzzle to me at present.'

  'If you'd come half an hour later you wouldn't have found him,' growled the man who was handcuffed. 'I ain't so much to blame as them as employed me.'

  'Oh, is that how the land lies?' exclaimed Hazell. 'I see. You shall tell us presently, my boy, how it happened. Meanwhile, Mr Mills, I think we can prepare a little trap – eh?'

  In five minutes all was arranged. A couple of the navvies were brought up from the line, one stationed outside to guard against trains, and with certain other instructions, the other being inside the hut with the rest of them. A third navvy was also dispatched for the police.

  'How are they coming?' asked Hazell of the handcuffed man.

  'They were going to take a train down from London to Rockhampstead on the East-Northern, and drive over. It's about ten miles off.'

  'Good! They ought soon to be here,' replied Hazell, as he munched some biscuits and washed them down with a draught of milk, after which he astonished them all by solemnly going through one of his 'digestive exercises'.

  A little later they heard the sound of wheels on a road beside the line. Then the man on watch said, in gruff tones:

  'The boy's inside!'

  But they found more than the boy inside, and an hour later all three conspirators were safely lodged in Longmoor gaol.

  'Oh, it was awfully nasty, I can tell you,' said Horace Carr-Mathers, as he explained matters afterwards. 'I went into the corridor, you know, and was looking about at things, when all of a sudden I felt my coat-collar grasped behind, and a hand was laid over my mouth. I tried to kick and shout, but it was no go. They got me into the compartment, stuffed a handkerchief into my mouth, and tied it in. It was just beastly. Then they bound me hand and foot, and opened the window on the right-hand side – opposite the corridor. I was in a funk, for I thought they were going to throw me out, but one of them told me to keep my pecker up, as they weren't going to hurt me. Then they let me down out of the window by that slack rope, and made it fast to the handle of the door outside. It was pretty bad. There was I, hanging from the door-handle in a sort of doubled-up position, my back resting on the foot-board of the carriage, and the train rushing along like mad. I felt sick and awful, and I had to shut my eyes. I seemed to hang there for ages.'

  'I told you you only examined the inside of the train,' said Thorpe Hazell to Wingrave. 'I had my suspicions that he was somewhere on the outside all the time, but I was puzzled to know where. It was a clever trick.'

  'Well,' went on the boy, 'I heard the window open above me after a bit. I looked up and saw one of the men taking the rope off the handle. The train was just beginning to slow down. Then he hung out of the window, dangling me with one hand. It was horrible. I was hanging below the footboard now. Then the train came almost to a stop, and someone caught me round the waist. I lost my senses for a minute or two, and then I found myself lying in the hut.'

  'Well, Mr Hazell,' said the assistant-superintendent, 'you were perfectly right, and we all owe you a debt of gratitude.'

  'Oh,' said Hazell, 'it was only a guess at the best. I presumed it was simply kidnapping, and the problem to be solved was how and where the boy was got off the train without injury. It was obvious that he had been disposed of before the train reached London. There was only one other inference. The man on duty was evidently the confederate, for, if not, his presence would have stopped the whole plan of action. I'm very glad to have been of any use. There are interesting points about the case, and it has been a pleasure to me to undertake it.'

  A little while afterwards Mr Carr-Mathers himself called on Hazell to thank him.

  'I should like,' he said, 'to express my deep gratitude substantially; but I understand you are not an ordinary detective. But is there any way in which I can serve you, Mr Hazell?'

  'Yes – two ways.'

  'Please name them.'

  'I should be sorry for Mr Wingrave to get into trouble through this affair – or Dr Spring either.'

  'I understand you, Mr Hazell. They were both to blame, in a way. But I will see that Dr Spring's reputation does not suffer, and that Wingrave comes out of it harmlessly.'

  'Thank you very much.'

  'You said there was a second way in which I could serve you.'

  'So there is. At Dunn's sale last month you were the purchaser of two first editions of
The New Bath Guide
. If you cared to dispose of one, I – '

  'Say no more, Mr Hazell. I shall be glad to give you one for your collection.'

  Hazell stiffened.

  'You misunderstand me!' he exclaimed icily. 'I was about to add that if you cared to dispose of a copy I would write you out a cheque.'

  'Oh, certainly,' replied Mr Carr-Mathers with a smile, 'I shall be extremely pleased.'

  Whereupon the transaction was concluded.

B
ORN IN CHARLESTON, South Carolina in the year the American Civil War began, Ottolengui moved to New York in his teens to study dentistry and remained there for the rest of his life. When he died in 1937, most of his obituaries concentrated on his career as a pioneering dentist (he was one of the first practitioners in America to make use of Xrays) and on his status as an amateur entomologist who had become one of the world's leading experts on a particular family of moths. Few made much of the crime fiction he had published in the 1890s but Ottolengui's novels and (particularly) short stories featuring the professional detective Mr Barnes and the wealthy amateur Mr Mitchel are well worth reading. 'The Azteck Opal', originally published in
The
Idler
in April 1895, is probably the best of them all.

'M
R MITCHEL,' BEGAN Mr Barnes, the detective, after exchanging greetings, 'I have called to see you upon a subject which I am sure will enlist your keenest interest, for several reasons. It relates to a magnificent jewel; it concerns your intimate friends; and it is a problem requiring the most analytical qualities of the mind in its solution.'

  'Ah! Then you have solved it?' asked Mr Mitchel.

  'I think so. You shall judge. I have today been called in to investigate one of the most singular cases that has fallen in my way. It is one in which the usual detective methods would be utterly valueless. The facts were presented to me, and the solution of the mystery could only be reached by analytical deduction.'

  'That is to say, by using your brains?'

  'Precisely! Now, you have admitted that you consider yourself more expert in this direction than the ordinary detective. I wish to place you for once in the position of a detective, and then see you prove your ability.

  'Early this morning I was summoned, by a messenger, to go aboard of the steam yacht
Idler
, which lay at anchor in the lower bay.'

  'Why, the
Idler
belongs to my friend Mortimer Gray,' exclaimed Mr Mitchel.

  'Yes!' replied Mr Barnes. 'I told you that your friends are interested. I went immediately with the man who had come to my office, and in due season I was aboard of the yacht. Mr Gray received me very politely, and took me to his private room adjoining the cabin. Here he explained to me that he had been off on a cruise for a few weeks, and was approaching the harbour last night, when, in accordance with his plans, a sumptuous dinner was served, as a sort of farewell feast, the party expecting to separate today.'