The Old Man in the Corner - Baroness Orczy
"However, Mr. Vassall walked round to the hotel and interviewed the hall
porter. The latter perfectly well remembered Mr. Schwarz sending in his
card to Prince Semionicz.
"'At what time was that?' asked Mr. Vassall.
"'About ten minutes past three, sir, when he came; it was about an hour
later when he left.'
"'When he left?' gasped, more than said, Mr. Vassall.
"'Yes, sir. Mr. Schwarz left here about a quarter before four, sir.'
"'Are you quite sure?'
"'Quite sure. Mr. Pettitt was in the hall when he left, and he asked him
something about business. Mr. Schwarz laughed and said, "not bad." I
hope there's nothing wrong, sir,' added the man.
"'Oh--er--nothing--thank you. Can I see Mr. Pettitt?'
"'Certainly, sir.'
"Mr. Pettitt, the manager of the hotel, shared Mr. Vassall's anxiety,
immediately he heard that the young German had not yet returned home.
"'I spoke to him a little before four o'clock. We had just switched on
the electric light, which we always do these winter months at that hour.
But I shouldn't worry myself, Mr. Vassall; the young man may have seen
to some business on his way home. You'll probably find him in when you
go back.'
"Apparently somewhat reassured, Mr. Vassall thanked Mr. Pettitt and
hurried back to the shop, only to find that Mr. Schwarz had not
returned, though it was now close on eight o'clock.
"Mr. Winslow looked so haggard and upset that it would have been cruel
to heap reproaches upon his other troubles or to utter so much as the
faintest suspicion that young Schwarz's permanent disappearance with
L16,000 in jewels and money was within the bounds of probability.
"There was one chance left, but under the circumstances a very slight
one indeed. The Winslows' private house was up the Birkenhead end of the
town. Young Schwarz had been living with them ever since his arrival in
Liverpool, and he may have--either not feeling well or for some other
reason--gone straight home without calling at the shop. It was unlikely,
as valuable jewellery was never kept at the private house, but--it just
might have happened.
"It would be useless," continued the man in the corner, "and decidedly
uninteresting, were I to relate to you Messrs. Winslow's and Vassall's
further anxieties with regard to the missing young man. Suffice it to
say that on reaching his private house Mr. Winslow found that his godson
had neither returned nor sent any telegraphic message of any kind.
"Not wishing to needlessly alarm his wife, Mr. Winslow made an attempt
at eating his dinner, but directly after that he hurried back to the
North-Western Hotel, and asked to see Prince Semionicz. The Prince was
at the theatre with his secretary, and probably would not be home until
nearly midnight.
"Mr. Winslow, then, not knowing what to think, nor yet what to fear, and
in spite of the horror he felt of giving publicity to his nephew's
disappearance, thought it his duty to go round to the police-station and
interview the inspector. It is wonderful how quickly news of that type
travels in a large city like Liverpool. Already the morning papers of
the following day were full of the latest sensation: 'Mysterious
disappearance of a well-known tradesman.'
"Mr. Winslow found a copy of the paper containing the sensational
announcement on his breakfast-table. It lay side by side with a letter
addressed to him in his nephew's handwriting, which had been posted in
Liverpool.
"Mr. Winslow placed that letter, written to him by his nephew, into the
hands of the police. Its contents, therefore, quickly became public
property. The astounding statements made therein by Mr. Schwarz created,
in quiet, businesslike Liverpool, a sensation which has seldom been
equalled.
"It appears that the young fellow did call on Prince Semionicz at a
quarter past three on Wednesday, December 10th, with a bag full of
jewels, amounting in value to some L16,000. The Prince duly admired, and
finally selected from among the ornaments a necklace, pendant, and
bracelet, the whole being priced by Mr. Schwarz, according to his
instructions, at L10,500. Prince Semionicz was most prompt and
businesslike in his dealings.
"'You will require immediate payment for these, of course,' he said in
perfect English, 'and I know you business men prefer solid cash to
cheques, especially when dealing with foreigners. I always provide
myself with plenty of Bank of England notes in consequence,' he added
with a pleasant smile, 'as L10,500 in gold would perhaps be a little
inconvenient to carry. If you will kindly make out the receipt, my
secretary, M. Lambert, will settle all business matters with you.'
"He thereupon took the jewels he had selected and locked them up in his
dressing-case, the beautiful silver fillings of which Mr. Schwarz just
caught a short glimpse of. Then, having been accommodated with paper and
ink, the young jeweller made out the account and receipt, whilst M.
Lambert, the secretary, counted out before him 105 crisp Bank of England
notes of L100 each. Then, with a final bow to his exceedingly urbane and
eminently satisfactory customer, Mr. Schwarz took his leave. In the hall
he saw and spoke to Mr. Pettitt, and then he went out into the street.
"He had just left the hotel and was about to cross towards St. George's
Hall when a gentleman, in a magnificent fur coat, stepped quickly out of
a cab which had been stationed near the kerb, and, touching him lightly
upon the shoulder, said with an unmistakable air of authority, at the
same time handing him a card:
"'That is my name. I must speak with you immediately."
"Schwarz glanced at the card, and by the light of the arc lamps above
his head read on it the name of 'Dimitri Slaviansky Burgreneff, de la
IIIe Section de la Police Imperial de S.M. le Czar.'
"Quickly the owner of the unpronounceable name and the significant title
pointed to the cab from which he had just alighted, and Schwarz, whose
every suspicion with regard to his princely customer bristled up in one
moment, clutched his bag and followed his imposing interlocutor; as soon
as they were both comfortably seated in the cab the latter began, with
courteous apology in broken but fluent English:
"'I must ask your pardon, sir, for thus trespassing upon your valuable
time, and I certainly should not have done so but for the certainty that
our interests in a certain matter which I have in hand are practically
identical, in so far that we both should wish to outwit a clever rogue.'
"Instinctively, and his mind full of terrible apprehension, Mr.
Schwarz's hand wandered to his pocket-book, filled to overflowing with
the bank-notes which he had so lately received from the Prince.
"'Ah, I see,' interposed the courteous Russian with a smile, 'he has
played the confidence trick on you, with the usual addition of so many
so-called bank-notes.'
"'So-called,' gasped the unfortunate young man.
"'I don't think I often err in my estimate of my own countrymen,'
continued M. Burgreneff; 'I have vast experience, you must remember.
Therefore, I doubt if I am doing M.--er--what does he call
himself?--Prince something--an injustice if I assert, even without
handling those crisp bits of paper you have in your pocket-book, that no
bank would exchange them for gold.'
"Remembering his uncle's suspicions and his own, Mr. Schwarz cursed
himself for his blindness and folly in accepting notes so easily without
for a moment imagining that they might be false. Now, with every one of
those suspicions fully on the alert, he felt the bits of paper with
nervous, anxious fingers, while the imperturbable Russian calmly struck
a match.
"'See here,' he said, pointing to one of the notes, 'the shape of that
"w" in the signature of the chief cashier. I am not an English police
officer, but I could pick out that spurious "w" among a thousand genuine
ones. You see, I have seen a good many.'
"Now, of course, poor young Schwarz had not seen very many Bank of
England notes. He could not have told whether one 'w' in Mr. Bowen's
signature is better than another, but, though he did not speak English
nearly as fluently as his pompous interlocutor, he understood every word
of the appalling statement the latter had just made.
"'Then that Prince,' he said, 'at the hotel--'
"'Is no more Prince than you and I, my dear sir,' concluded the
gentleman of His Imperial Majesty's police calmly.
"'And the jewels? Mr. Winslow's jewels?'
"'With the jewels there may be a chance--oh! a mere chance. These forged
bank-notes, which you accepted so trustingly, may prove the means of
recovering your property.'
"'How?'
"'The penalty of forging and circulating spurious bank-notes is very
heavy. You know that. The fear of seven years' penal servitude will act
as a wonderful sedative upon the--er--Prince's joyful mood. He will give
up the jewels to me all right enough, never you fear. He knows,' added
the Russian officer grimly, 'that there are plenty of old scores to
settle up, without the additional one of forged bank-notes. Our
interests, you see, are identical. May I rely on your co-operation?'
"'Oh, I will do as you wish,' said the delighted young German. 'Mr.
Winslow and Mr. Vassall, they trusted me, and I have been such a fool. I
hope it is not too late.'
"'I think not,' said M. Burgreneff, his hand already on the door of the
cab. 'Though I have been talking to you I have kept an eye on the hotel,
and our friend the Prince has not yet gone out. We are accustomed, you
know, to have eyes everywhere, we of the Russian secret police. I don't
think that I will ask you to be present at the confrontation. Perhaps
you will wait for me in the cab. There is a nasty fog outside, and you
will be more private. Will you give me those beautiful bank-notes? Thank
you! Don't be anxious. I won't be long.'
"He lifted his hat, and slipped the notes into the inner pocket of his
magnificent fur coat. As he did so, Mr. Schwarz caught sight of a rich
uniform and a wide sash, which no doubt was destined to carry additional
moral weight with the clever rogue upstairs.
"Then His Imperial Majesty's police officer stepped quickly out of the
cab, and Mr. Schwarz was left alone."
CHAPTER XIII
A CUNNING RASCAL
"Yes, left severely alone," continued the man in the corner with a
sarcastic chuckle. "So severely alone, in fact, that one quarter of an
hour after another passed by and still the magnificent police officer in
the gorgeous uniform did not return. Then, when it was too late, Schwarz
cursed himself once again for the double-dyed idiot that he was. He had
been only too ready to believe that Prince Semionicz was a liar and a
rogue, and under these unjust suspicions he had fallen an all too easy
prey to one of the most cunning rascals he had ever come across.
"An inquiry from the hall porter at the North-Western elicited the fact
that no such personage as Mr. Schwarz described had entered the hotel.
The young man asked to see Prince Semionicz, hoping against hope that
all was not yet lost. The Prince received him most courteously; he was
dictating some letters to his secretary, while the valet was in the next
room preparing his master's evening clothes. Mr. Schwarz found it very
difficult to explain what he actually did want.
"There stood the dressing-case in which the Prince had locked up the
jewels, and there the bag from which the secretary had taken the
bank-notes. After much hesitation on Schwarz's part and much impatience
on that of the Prince, the young man blurted out the whole story of the
so-called Russian police officer whose card he still held in his hand.
"The Prince, it appears, took the whole thing wonderfully
good-naturedly; no doubt he thought the jeweller a hopeless fool. He
showed him the jewels, the receipt he held, and also a large bundle of
bank-notes similar to those Schwarz had with such culpable folly given
up to the clever rascal in the cab.
"'I pay all my bills with Bank of England notes, Mr. Schwarz. It would
have been wiser, perhaps, if you had spoken to the manager of the hotel
about me before you were so ready to believe any cock-and-bull story
about my supposed rogueries.'
"Finally he placed a small 16mo volume before the young jeweller, and
said with a pleasant smile:
"'If people in this country who are in a large way of business, and are
therefore likely to come in contact with people of foreign nationality,
were to study these little volumes before doing business with any
foreigner who claims a title, much disappointment and a great loss would
often be saved. Now in this case had you looked up page 797 of this
little volume of Gotha's Almanach you would have seen my name in it and
known from the first that the so-called Russian detective was a liar.'
"There was nothing more to be said, and Mr. Schwarz left the hotel. No
doubt, now that he had been hopelessly duped he dared not go home, and
half hoped by communicating with the police that they might succeed in
arresting the thief before he had time to leave Liverpool. He
interviewed Detective-Inspector Watson, and was at once confronted with
the awful difficulty which would make the recovery of the bank-notes
practically hopeless. He had never had the time or opportunity of
jotting down the numbers of the notes.
"Mr. Winslow, though terribly wrathful against his nephew, did not wish
to keep him out of his home. As soon as he had received Schwarz's
letter, he traced him, with Inspector Watson's help, to his lodgings in
North Street, where the unfortunate young man meant to remain hidden
until the terrible storm had blown over, or perhaps until the thief had
been caught red-handed with the booty still in his hands.
"This happy event, needless to say, never did occur, though the police
made every effort to trace the man who had decoyed Schwarz into the cab.
His appearance was such an uncommon one; it seemed most unlikely that no
one in Liverpool should have noticed him after he left that cab. The
wonderful fur coat, the long beard, all must have been noticeable, even
though it was past four o'clock on a somewhat foggy December afternoon.
"But every investigation proved futile; no one answering Schwarz's
description of the man had been seen anywhere. The papers continued to
refer to the case as 'the Liverpool Mystery.' Scotland Yard sent Mr.
Fairburn down--the celebrated detective--at the request of the Liverpool
police, to help in the investigations, but nothing availed.
"Prince Semionicz, with his suite, left Liverpool, and he who had
attempted to blacken his character, and had succeeded in robbing Messrs.
Winslow and Vassall of L10,500, had completely disappeared."
The man in the corner readjusted his collar and necktie, which, during
the narrative of this interesting mystery, had worked its way up his
long, crane-like neck under his large flappy ears. His costume of
checked tweed of a peculiarly loud pattern had tickled the fancy of some
of the waitresses, who were standing gazing at him and giggling in one
corner. This evidently made him nervous. He gazed up very meekly at
Polly, looking for all the world like a bald-headed adjutant dressed for
a holiday.
"Of course, all sorts of theories of the theft got about at first. One
of the most popular, and at the same time most quickly exploded, being
that young Schwarz had told a cock-and-bull story, and was the actual
thief himself.
"However, as I said before, that was very quickly exploded, as Mr.
Schwarz senior, a very wealthy merchant, never allowed his son's
carelessness to be a serious loss to his kind employers. As soon as he
thoroughly grasped all the circumstances of the extraordinary case, he
drew a cheque for L10,500 and remitted it to Messrs. Winslow and
Vassall. It was just, but it was also high-minded.
"All Liverpool knew of the generous action, as Mr. Winslow took care
that it should; and any evil suspicion regarding young Mr. Schwarz
vanished as quickly as it had come.
"Then, of course, there was the theory about the Prince and his suite,
and to this day I fancy there are plenty of people in Liverpool, and
also in London, who declare that the so-called Russian police officer
was a confederate. No doubt that theory was very plausible, and Messrs.
Winslow and Vassall spent a good deal of money in trying to prove a case
against the Russian Prince.
"Very soon, however, that theory was also bound to collapse. Mr.
Fairburn, whose reputation as an investigator of crime waxes in direct
inverted ratio to his capacities, did hit upon the obvious course of
interviewing the managers of the larger London and Liverpool _agents de
change_. He soon found that Prince Semionicz had converted a great deal
of Russian and French money into English bank-notes since his arrival in
this country. More than L30,000 in good solid, honest money was traced
to the pockets of the gentleman with the sixteen quarterings. It seemed,
therefore, more than improbable that a man who was obviously fairly
wealthy would risk imprisonment and hard labour, if not worse, for the
sake of increasing his fortune by L10,000.
"However, the theory of the Prince's guilt has taken firm root in the
dull minds of our police authorities. They have had every information
with regard to Prince Semionicz's antecedents from Russia; his position,
his wealth, have been placed above suspicion, and yet they suspect and
go on suspecting him or his secretary. They have communicated with the
police of every European capital; and while they still hope to obtain
sufficient evidence against those they suspect, they calmly allow the
guilty to enjoy the fruit of his clever roguery."
"The guilty?" said Polly. "Who do you think--"
"Who do I think knew at that moment that young Schwarz had money in his
possession?" he said excitedly, wriggling in his chair like a
Jack-in-the-box. "Obviously some one was guilty of that theft who knew
that Schwarz had gone to interview a rich Russian, and would in all
probability return with a large sum of money in his possession?"
"Who, indeed, but the Prince and his secretary?" she argued. "But just
now you said--"
"Just now I said that the police were determined to find the Prince and
his secretary guilty; they did not look further than their own stumpy
noses. Messrs. Winslow and Vassall spent money with a free hand in those
investigations. Mr. Winslow, as the senior partner, stood to lose over
L9000 by that robbery. Now, with Mr. Vassall it was different.
"When I saw how the police went on blundering in this case I took the
trouble to make certain inquiries, the whole thing interested me so
much, and I learnt all that I wished to know. I found out, namely, that
Mr. Vassall was very much a junior partner in the firm, that he only
drew ten per cent of the profits, having been promoted lately to a
partnership from having been senior assistant.
"Now, the police did not take the trouble to find that out."
"But you don't mean that--"
"I mean that in all cases where robbery affects more than one person the
first thing to find out is whether it affects the second party equally
with the first. I proved that to you, didn't I, over that robbery in
Phillimore Terrace? There, as here, one of the two parties stood to
lose very little in comparison with the other--"
"Even then--" she began.
"Wait a moment, for I found out something more. The moment I had
ascertained that Mr. Vassall was not drawing more than about L500 a year
from the business profits I tried to ascertain at what rate he lived and
what were his chief vices. I found that he kept a fine house in Albert
Terrace. Now, the rents of those houses are L250 a year. Therefore
speculation, horse-racing or some sort of gambling, must help to keep up
that establishment. Speculation and most forms of gambling are
synonymous with debt and ruin. It is only a question of time. Whether
Mr. Vassall was in debt or not at the time, that I cannot say, but this
I do know, that ever since that unfortunate loss to him of about L1000
he has kept his house in nicer style than before, and he now has a good
banking account at the Lancashire and Liverpool bank, which he opened a
year after his 'heavy loss.'"
"But it must have been very difficult--" argued Polly.
"What?" he said. "To have planned out the whole thing? For carrying it
out was mere child's play. He had twenty-four hours in which to put his
plan into execution. Why, what was there to do? Firstly, to go to a
local printer in some out-of-the-way part of the town and get him to
print a few cards with the high-sounding name. That, of course, is done
'while you wait.' Beyond that there was the purchase of a good
second-hand uniform, fur coat, and a beard and a wig from a costumier's.
"No, no, the execution was not difficult; it was the planning of it all,
the daring that was so fine. Schwarz, of course, was a foreigner; he had
only been in England a little over a fortnight. Vassall's broken English
misled him; probably he did not know the junior partner very intimately.
I have no doubt that but for his uncle's absurd British prejudice and
suspicions against the Russian Prince, Schwarz would not have been so
ready to believe in the latter's roguery. As I said, it would be a great
boon if English tradesmen studied Gotha more; but it was clever, wasn't
it? I couldn't have done it much better myself."
That last sentence was so characteristic. Before Polly could think of
some plausible argument against his theory he was gone, and she was
trying vainly to find another solution to the Liverpool mystery.
CHAPTER XIV
THE EDINBURGH MYSTERY
The man in the corner had not enjoyed his lunch. Miss Polly Burton could
see that he had something on his mind, for, even before he began to talk
that morning, he was fidgeting with his bit of string, and setting all
her nerves on the jar.
"Have you ever felt real sympathy with a criminal or a thief?" he asked
her after a while.
"Only once, I think," she replied, "and then I am not quite sure that
the unfortunate woman who did enlist my sympathies was the criminal you
make her out to be."
"You mean the heroine of the York mystery?" he replied blandly. "I know
that you tried very hard that time to discredit the only possible
version of that mysterious murder, the version which is my own. Now, I
am equally sure that you have at the present moment no more notion as to
who killed and robbed poor Lady Donaldson in Charlotte Square,
Edinburgh, than the police have themselves, and yet you are fully
prepared to pooh-pooh my arguments, and to disbelieve my version of the
mystery. Such is the lady journalist's mind."
"If you have some cock-and-bull story to explain that extraordinary
case," she retorted, "of course I shall disbelieve it. Certainly, if you
are going to try and enlist my sympathies on behalf of Edith Crawford, I
can assure you you won't succeed."
"Well, I don't know that that is altogether my intention. I see you are
interested in the case, but I dare say you don't remember all the
circumstances. You must forgive me if I repeat that which you know
already. If you have ever been to Edinburgh at all, you will have heard
of Graham's bank, and Mr. Andrew Graham, the present head of the firm,
is undoubtedly one of the most prominent notabilities of 'modern
Athens.'"
The man in the corner took two or three photos from his pocket-book and
placed them before the young girl; then, pointing at them with his long
bony finger--
"That," he said, "is Mr. Elphinstone Graham, the eldest son, a typical
young Scotchman, as you see, and this is David Graham, the second son."
Polly looked more closely at this last photo, and saw before her a young
face, upon which some lasting sorrow seemed already to have left its
mark. The face was delicate and thin, the features pinched, and the
eyes seemed almost unnaturally large and prominent.
"He was deformed," commented the man in the corner in answer to the
girl's thoughts, "and, as such, an object of pity and even of repugnance
to most of his friends. There was also a good deal of talk in Edinburgh
society as to his mental condition, his mind, according to many intimate
friends of the Grahams, being at times decidedly unhinged. Be that as it
may, I fancy that his life must have been a very sad one; he had lost
his mother when quite a baby, and his father seemed, strangely enough,
to have an almost unconquerable dislike towards him.
"Every one got to know presently of David Graham's sad position in his
father's own house, and also of the great affection lavished upon him by
his godmother, Lady Donaldson, who was a sister of Mr. Graham's.
"She was a lady of considerable wealth, being the widow of Sir George
Donaldson, the great distiller; but she seems to have been decidedly
eccentric. Latterly she had astonished all her family--who were rigid
Presbyterians--by announcing her intention of embracing the Roman
Catholic faith, and then retiring to the convent of St. Augustine's at
Newton Abbot in Devonshire.
"She had sole and absolute control of the vast fortune which a doting
husband had bequeathed to her. Clearly, therefore, she was at liberty
to bestow it upon a Devonshire convent if she chose. But this evidently
was not altogether her intention.