Crime at Guildford Read online

  ‘You’re in the post office service?’ French went on in the hope of getting the statement under way.

  ‘Yes, sir; telephone lineman. Been in the job six years.’

  ‘It’s a good service.’ French grinned. ‘A better service by a long chalk than the police, eh?’

  ‘I don’t know about that, sir,’ the man said seriously. ‘I’d rather be a constable myself.’

  ‘Don’t you believe it. You know everyone wants someone else’s job. Well now, just start in and let’s hear what you have to tell me.’

  Seaton, evidently relieved in his mind by French’s talk, settled himself on a larger area of his chair and began his story.

  ‘Last Sunday five weeks we were doing a bit of a change over. Mostly that can be done on week-days, but where lines have to be put out of use, like this time, we generally do it on Sunday. Saves inconvenience, you see.’

  ‘That’s right. Sunday five weeks.’ French made play of looking up a calendar, though all the dates of this period were burned into his memory. ‘Let’s see, that was the 30th of September?’

  ‘That’s right, sir. I was changing some lines from chimneys and odd places to a new pole that had been set up on the roof. I was with the squad, but was working alone on the pole, if you understand?’

  ‘I think so,’ said French. ‘Your squad were all on the job, but you were separate from the others in that you were up this pole.’

  ‘That’s right, sir.’

  ‘Where was this roof and pole?’

  ‘In Ronder Lane, off Kingsway.’

  French felt a sudden thrill. Perhaps this visit was going to mean something after all!

  ‘Yes?’ he said, with a subtle change of manner.

  ‘The pole was on the roof of Kirkby-Orr’s building, that’s on the Oxford Street side of Ronder Lane. There was a big building just opposite across the lane. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I found out later. It was Norne’s.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘The Norne building’s higher than Kirkby-Orr’s, but where I was on the pole I was level with the roof of Norne’s, if you understand?’

  French nodded.

  ‘I could see into the top room of the Norne building, or one of them. It wasn’t very clear, you understand, but still I could see a bit. There was a table and a safe and a sort of green painted press I took to be a letter file.’

  Norne’s room! All the boredom had now vanished from French’s manner. He nodded again.

  ‘There were two men in the room. I could see them moving about. They had a sort of flat yellow box in their hands, or one of them had. I couldn’t see what it was. But they spent a deal of time fiddling with it.’

  ‘What size was it?’

  The man hesitated. ‘I couldn’t rightly say. So long perhaps.’ He held his hands eighteen inches apart. ‘And flat; not more than three or four inches deep.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I wasn’t watching them particularly, of course, for I had my own job to do. But every now and then I took a look in. The window was just before me, if you understand, and I could see without raising my head. One of them put the yellow box on the large green one, and then stood leaning over it and fiddling with it, while the other went forward to the safe and seemed to be putting in the key to open it. But he didn’t open it, or, at least, I didn’t see it open. They did that several times. I couldn’t tell what they were doing.’

  French nodded. ‘That’s quite interesting, Seaton. Yes?’

  ‘Well, that was all I saw. I had to turn round to fix the wires on the other end of the arms, and it was some time before I turned back. When I did look in again, they were gone.’

  At this French felt a little shock of disappointment. The statement had led off so well and come to such a fine climax that he had hoped for something more definite. However, there might be more. ‘Yes?’ he repeated.

  ‘Well, I didn’t think nothing of it. Why should I? It wasn’t my business and, in any case, they hadn’t done nothing out of the way. Then I read in the paper about this here Norne robbery. Still I didn’t think nothing of it until last Sunday. And then in one of the Sunday papers I saw a photograph of the room in Norne’s where the robbery had been done, and the safe the stuff had been taken out of, and it was the same room and safe. So I told the gaffer yesterday, that was Monday, but he only laughed at me. But he must have told the engineer for he sent for me this morning and asked me about it and then told me to come down and tell you about it here.’

  ‘Quite right,’ French approved. ‘I’m interested in your story. Now, I’ll have to ask you one or two questions. Take a cigarette, Seaton.’ He pushed a box over. There was a little pause and then he went on: ‘Could you describe the men?’

  Seaton shook his head. ‘No, sir, I could not. They were a bit shadowy through the glass, if you understand.’

  ‘What about their height?’

  ‘One seemed to be a middling tall man and one about medium.’

  ‘How were they dressed?’

  ‘Dark clothes, both of them. I couldn’t tell more than that.’

  ‘That’ll do. Any hair on their faces?’

  Seaton shook his head again. He had not seen. Nor could French’s efforts achieve any further results. He turned to another point.

  ‘What time in the day did all this occur?’

  ‘Between eleven and twelve in the morning.’

  French then went back to the question of what the men were doing, but here Seaton couldn’t amplify his statement at all. In fact, he was unable to give any further particulars of any kind.

  ‘I think we’ll go along to the office,’ French decided. ‘I’d like you to point out where the men stood, so there’ll be no mistake.’

  Seaton indicated that this was a matter for the chief-inspector, and in a couple of minutes they were in a taxi driving eastwards. A few more minutes and they pushed open the door of Miss Barber’s room.

  ‘Mr Norne in?’ French asked after an adequate greeting.

  The young woman shook her head. ‘He’s gone out. I don’t know when he’ll be back.’

  ‘Unfortunate,’ returned French, while congratulating himself on this good fortune. ‘Well, I’d like my friend to have a look at the safe. May we go in?’

  Miss Barber graciously gave the permission and the two men passed into Norne’s room. French rather unkindly shut the door.

  ‘Now, Seaton; go ahead.’

  The man was obviously anxious to help, but he was unable to add to his previous statement. One of the men had put his yellow box on the top of the letter file, and stood as it were leaning on it, and looking towards the safe. The other had gone through the motions of putting in and withdrawing keys. But they had not opened the safe, at least, while Seaton was watching them.

  One point the lineman did make a little clearer. Work at the box had occupied by far the longer time. The man at the file had fiddled with it for one or two minutes, then he had remained steady, apparently watching, while the second man had put his hand to the safe and withdrawn it again. The second man had then, as it were, stood aside, and the first had spent another one or two minutes working with his apparatus. This was repeated again and again: one or two minutes at the box and ten seconds at the safe alternately for as long as Seaton watched.

  That this information was of first-class importance French had now no doubt. It certainly looked as if these two men were the thieves and that they were making preparations for their coup. French’s routine inquiries had established the fact that no authorised work was going on in the office on that Sunday, and in any case the actions of the men were not consistent with authorised work. It seemed evident that their activities were connected with the fitting of a key, though how, French could not imagine.

  It might be that they were using some new appliance unknown to him. Some block of soft metal, perhaps, which could be pushed against the lock levers, so as to take an impression of anything unyielding. Possibly by this means a bla
nk key could be gradually cut down until it did the work. The yellow box might have been a kit of tools or a battery or a small power plant for cutting the wards.

  One other thing was evident: that the men had not noticed that they were observed. For that French supposed he should consider himself lucky. Norne’s room being higher than the houses across the street, no one in the ordinary course could see in through the windows. As a matter of fact there were no blinds. The window faced north and there was, therefore, never any inconvenience from sunlight. The telephone pole was new, and in any case, the men would never think of it.

  All that day French pondered the problem: What could the men have been doing? Was it trying to make a key? Suppose they had that blank key of some soft substance which he had already considered, and that heat was required to make the substance plastic, could the yellow box be a means of generating this heat, something on the lines of an electric soldering iron?

  Then it occurred to French that he was probably on the wrong track. Whatever they were doing, it was unlikely they were trying to fit a key. Had this been their object, the greater intervals of time would have been spent at the keyhole. In the few seconds during which attention was given to the safe, no such work could have been carried on.

  No, the kernel of the affair was the yellow box. To that practically the whole of their attention had been directed.

  But if the men weren’t trying to fit a key, what under heaven were they doing? French could conceive of nothing.

  During practically the whole of that night he lay awake wrestling with the problem. But no solution came to him. He got quite frantic towards the small hours. Hang it all, they were doing something! Naturally it was something intelligent and with a purpose. What other people had thought of, surely he should be able to think of too? But no ray of light came to him.

  Next day in his office he settled down with the determination not to leave till he had reached some conclusion. He began by trying to reconstruct the conditions in Norne’s room. First, he made a full-size model of the safe door and letter file. The file case he had no trouble in reproducing, because there was an exactly similar one in the adjoining office, and he had it brought in. The safe door he made out of a sheet of newspaper, which he pinned to the wall. On this he marked the keyhole in blue pencil. He was careful to get the relative positions correct.

  Then he placed his emergency case on the top of the file. It was a little over a foot long, and as he did not know the exact shape or size of the yellow box, it would do well enough.

  For some time he studied this combination, but without gaining any light. Then he tried to reproduce the actions of the men, so far as he knew them.

  He stood in front of the file and leant over the emergency case. With the latter he pretended to fumble. Next he looked towards the safe door, and imagined he saw a friend putting his hand towards and away from the keyhole. Then he fumbled again at the case and again looked towards the keyhole. This he repeated several times.

  After nearly three hours of intensive effort, he sat down slowly in his chair and began to swear. For a moment he let himself go and a stream of rather ugly blasphemy poured from his lips, a low growling murmur which would not penetrate to the adjoining room. Presently he grew ashamed of himself, took out his pipe, filled it slowly, and began to smoke.

  But none of these expedients helped in the least. He couldn’t imagine what had been done. In an exasperated mood, he went out for a solitary lunch.

  It was on his way back to the office that light suddenly flashed into his mind. On the pavement was one of those optimistic cinematographers who film advancing individuals, and hand them a card to say that the film will be produced at such a theatre, and that if they attend they will see themselves on the screen. The man did not film French—French would have considered it a mortal insult if he had. He confined his attentions to those who seemed to him of a type likely to respond.

  So far so good, the whole thing was a phenomenon too commonplace to excite French’s interest. But as he approached he saw the man look down at his machine, and then glance up at his intended victim and down again.

  Subconsciously the action struck a chord of memory. A ciné camera …

  A ciné camera! Could it be?

  French stood still as this idea smote him with a positive shock. He was right in the line of the lens, and his expression must have highly edified the patrons of the Elysian Cinema on the following day. But he wasn’t thinking of cinema audiences.

  A ciné camera! Why, damn it all, that was it! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? A ciné camera! Of course!

  The power of movement returned to his limbs and he began mechanically to walk on towards the Yard.

  A ciné camera! Yes, he had got it at last! A ciné camera would photograph the key as it was being advanced towards and withdrawn from the lock. With such a photograph a skilful man should surely be able to cut a new key![fn1]

  Here at last was the idea he had been so long seeking! Given some way of disguising the camera—the yellow box—and a means of getting it unsuspiciously into position on the file case while the safe was being opened, and the rest would be child’s play.

  For a while French was overjoyed with his discovery, and then the doubts usual under such circumstances began to assert themselves.

  Could a ciné camera take a key in sufficient detail at a distance of five feet? If it could, was there anything to guide the locksmith as to its size? In short, was the whole proposition possible? Could a key really be out from a photograph?

  On reaching the Yard French walked round to the photographic department and drew aside the photographer.

  ‘I say, Cooper,’ he began, ‘I want your opinion on something. Do you remember that safe in Norne’s office?’

  Cooper nodded.

  ‘You remember there was a letter file case standing beside it, about five feet from the keyhole?’

  Cooper remembered this also.

  ‘Suppose you stuck a ciné camera on the file and shot the key being put in, could you cut a key from the photo?’

  Cooper stared, then swore. ‘Fine you could,’ he declared with enthusiasm. ‘Is that what was done?’

  ‘I think so. But it’s only an idea so far.’

  ‘I bet you’re right, sir. It’s a brainy notion for sure.’ He grew less enthusiastic. ‘But do you think they’d let anyone do that while the safe was open?’

  ‘I’ve not got that length yet. What I wanted to know was, was it possible from the photographic point of view.’

  Of this Cooper had no doubt whatever. ‘And I’ll tell you the camera for the purpose,’ he went on. ‘You know those little cameras that take on ciné film? No? Well, there are such cameras. They’re pretty expensive, but they’re scientific instruments of precision. With the light in that office you could get an enlargement amply big enough and clear enough for what you want. They’ll show the leg of a bee on a flower from five feet away. A special lens, of course. Now the same people sell a ciné camera that’ll do equally good work. It’s a small thing, about eight or nine inches long and an inch or two high. You could hide it in anything and photo away to your heart’s content.’

  This was good news. But Cooper went on, as if in reply to French’s thought.

  ‘And another thing. There’s a small raised moulding round the keyhole on that safe. I remember the trouble it gave Boyle when he was trying for fingerprints. That moulding would be photographed too. Now if you could get to the safe—as your people must have been able to do—they could measure the actual size of that moulding. If they then measured the moulding on their enlargement, that would give them the scale of the photo and they could cut the key the right size.’

  ‘Ah,’ said French with satisfaction, ‘that point was bothering me.’

  ‘Well, it needn’t, sir.’

  ‘Good! Now, Cooper, try again. What could they have been doing on that Sunday?’ and he repeated Seaton’s description of the men’s movements.
r />   Once again Cooper was equal to the occasion.

  ‘I’ll tell you what they could have been doing, sir, and I haven’t the least doubt, were. They could have been finding the position for their yellow box. Incidentally it sounds to me like a despatch case with the camera hidden inside. I suggest they moved it a little at a time on the top of the file and took a note of the places. Then if they made a shot at each position, their developed film would show them the best one for covering the key. I’ll bet what the other man was doing was moving a key backwards and forwards to the lock.’

  ‘You mean that they wouldn’t be able to judge the correct position of the camera without experiment?’

  ‘Yes, that’s just what I do mean. With the lens they’d have to use, the field would be small and they might easily miss the key altogether.’

  ‘Quite. And they noted the position of each shot so as to be able to put the camera back into the correct one when they came to do the job in real earnest?’

  ‘That’s my notion, sir.’

  French was impressed. This certainly did sound plausible. It was really beginning to look as if he were on the right track at last.

  ‘That’s very good. I’m obliged to you, Cooper.’ He paused. ‘Tell me, could you get hold of one of those cameras?’

  Cooper grinned. ‘Easily, sir, if you pass over the necessary fifty quid or thereabouts.’

  ‘Hell, is it all that?’

  ‘You’ll have to have one, sir, if you’re going to take this case into court,’ Cooper said guilefully. ‘We ought to have one anyhow for the department.’

  French grunted. ‘I’ll consider it,’ he said and returned to his own office.

  Cooper, he saw, was right. If the case went to court an actual demonstration would be necessary. The police, properly witnessed, would have to cut a key to prove the method feasible. But before spending fifty pounds on a camera French saw that he had a good deal to do. He had to find out whether a photograph had been taken, who could have taken it, and how the camera could have been disguised.