The Loss of the Jane Vosper Read online

  French considered. The finding of the body could not be kept a secret, and the murderer would therefore be warned that to this extent the police were on his track. The further particulars gained were so trifling that he did not see how they could give anything away.

  ‘I don’t want an adjournment. The only thing that I should like kept dark is the possible connection with the loss of the Jane Vosper, and as that’s only theory it won’t be mentioned.’

  Nairn nodded. ‘I’ll warn the coroner, in any case.’

  Leaving the police station, French returned to Redliff Lane. There he found that his men had completed their detailed examination of the clay, unfortunately without finding anything of interest.

  French was more than ever disappointed. A profoundly important discovery had been made, and yet the solution of his problem seemed no nearer than before. Of course, from one point of view he was further on. Without a corpse there could have been no charge of murder. Things were to the good in so far that if and when evidence came he would be able to use it to make an arrest. But he was afraid that the question of an arrest was one for the far distant future.

  Next morning he attended the inquest. The proceedings were formal and dull. French was the first witness. In reply to the coroner’s questions he said that, acting on information received, he proceeded to a shed at 29 Redliff Lane, and there made a search of the floor. He saw that a certain area looked as if it had been recently taken up, and this he had opened. He there found the remains on which the inquest was being held.

  The coroner had been impressed by Nairn’s warning and accepted this statement as adequate. Briefly asking his jurors if any of them wished to put a question, he gave them little opportunity to do so, adding immediately, ‘Thank you, chief-inspector, that’s all. Now, Dr Caldwell, if you please.’

  The doctor had but little to add to the statement he had already made to French. The cause of death was the blow on the back of the head, delivered, he was of opinion, with some soft, heavy, yielding object, such as a sandbag. He had made a post mortem and had found no other cause of death. The organs were all healthy and there was nothing deleterious in the stomach.

  Mrs Sutton was the next witness. She formally identified the remains as those of her husband, and told of his business affairs and of the last time she had seen him alive. Her evidence was skilfully extracted, for it did not suggest that her husband’s death was connected with his cases.

  Hislop, the assistant in the export department of the Weaver Bannister Company, described his journey with the deceased from Watford to Baker Street, and repeated the latter’s remark that he must now part company, as he had business at Waterloo.

  Jeffrey was called, as the deceased’s principal employer, to give evidence as to the man’s professional position. Here also the questions were so framed that no question of his having been on a dangerous job was raised. Jeffrey spoke warmly of Sutton’s industry and capability, and said the firm held him in high esteem.

  If all this left the position somewhat obscure, it did not seem to worry the coroner. In his short address to the jury he pointed out that their duty was to find the cause of death, not to conduct criminal proceedings against any person or persons. In this case two outstanding facts seemed to give them all the information they could possibly require to reach a conclusion. First there was the evidence of the doctor that death had been caused by a blow on the back of the head, and his further professional opinion that that blow could not have been self-inflicted. Secondly, they had the fact that the body had been buried with every evidence of a desire to keep the death secret. Here was, in his opinion, overwhelming evidence of premeditation. He thought the conclusion that wilful murder had been committed was unavoidable, but, of course, this was a question for the jury, and for them alone. He thought, also, the jury would agree that no evidence as to the identity of a possible criminal had been put before them. But, as he had pointed out, the question of responsibility for the crime was not a matter with which they had to do. If they agreed with him they would return a verdict of wilful murder by some person or persons unknown. But, of course, as he had said, this was entirely a matter for themselves.

  Needless to say, the suggested verdict was returned, and that without a retirement.

  That afternoon French gave orders that he was not to be disturbed, and settled down to struggle very seriously with his case. It was now no vague instance of disappearance, which, however unlikely, might always have been deliberate. Now it was murder, and murder must be followed up with all the energy and all the resources at the investigating officer’s command. He, French, must succeed! The case was too important to permit of failure. Apart from the fact that the murdered man was a friend of his own, apart from the sympathy he felt for the widow, apart from all his feelings on the matter, his professional existence was to a considerable extent at stake. A chief-inspector who failed in his cases wouldn’t be a chief-inspector long.

  For the hundredth time he got out his notes and worked slowly through them. At each item he stopped and thought. Had this fact no bearing that he had missed? Could no deduction be made from it which up to now he had over-looked? He had obtained an immense amount of material. Surely he should be able to make more of it than he had?

  He sat pondering, comparing, sifting his facts, trying to reconstruct his theories. But he could get no further. Every avenue he tried seemed to lead to a dead end. Sutton had been on to what Rice was doing. How did he get on to it? What was Rice doing? Both questions seemed to be unanswerable.

  How tired he, French, was of the whole business! Not only mentally tired, but actually physically weary. He had gone over the facts, over them again and again, till he was sick of the thought of them. He had gone stale to the whole problem. He would put the blessed thing aside and do some other work. When he came back to it fresh he might do better. A wave of discouragement flowed over him.

  But it happened that as he thus luxuriated in pessimism he was automatically fingering the two scraps of burnt paper whose origin had up to the present eluded him. That ‘arm c’, he thought dully. What could armchairs have to do with the affair? Did it really refer to armchairs?

  Then suddenly an idea flashed into his mind. ‘Arm c’ didn’t only stand for armchairs! What about alarm clocks?

  Alarm clocks! And the Jane Vosper was blown up – must have been blown up – by time bombs! Alarm clocks! Most time bombs were operated by clocks.

  And of all kinds of clocks, alarm clocks were the most suitable for the purpose. Alarm clocks! Yes, that was something to think about.

  Instantaneously French’s weariness vanished. He was suddenly fresh and rested, optimistic, capable and as energetic as ever. Alarm clocks! Yes, it was an idea. He would follow it up without any loss of time.

  If the ‘WC2’ scrap were part of the same sheet as the ‘arm c’ piece, as from their quality seemed not unlikely, the enquiry should be short. He had only to send to all the watchmakers in the area and show them the ‘WC2’ and the ‘TEL’ printing and spacing to find the one in question. And, of course, lest the ‘WC2’ scrap did not apply, enquiries as to the sale of alarm clocks would be made at the same time. He decided to concentrate on the WC2 area first. If he got nothing there he could try elsewhere.

  Late though it was, he began work immediately. He sent for a number of men, explained what was required, furnished them with photographs of the lettering, and started them off on their rounds. They were to work till the shops closed and begin again as soon as they reopened next morning.

  French was more impressed by this alarm clock idea than he had been by any other of his theories of the case. For this, if it proved true, would bring the investigation back to what it had been long divorced from: the connection between Sutton’s death and the blowing up of the Jane Vosper. French was satisfied that in that direction and no other lay the solution of his problem. If Rice had bought alarm clocks it would not prove that he had caused the explosions, but it would make it much mo
re likely.

  In bed that night his thoughts reverted to the subject. There had been four explosions. If four alarm clocks had been purchased, the presumption of a connection would be strengthened. How he wished he could prove it!

  Then a devastating consideration flashed into his mind. Was he not on the wrong track altogether? Would alarm clocks have been any use for the Jane Vosper outrage?

  An alarm clock went off within, at latest, about ten hours of its being set. Under no circumstances could the functioning of the alarm mechanism be delayed beyond this period. But in the case of the Jane Vosper the mechanism didn’t operate for more than a week. Alarm clocks would have been no use here. If they had been used, they would have blown the ship up before she left the dock.

  Here was a bitter disappointment. The first really hopeful idea he had reached had proved a washout! His depression suddenly returned. Again he felt physically weary. Thoughts of failure filled his mind. His comfortable satisfied feeling passed and he grew restless and on edge. Once again he began to go over the evidence…

  When he reached the Yard next morning he considered calling off the men who were working the watchmakers’ shops. They had, however, gone out, and for the moment he was out of touch with them. As they rang up to report progress he would recall them.

  He was, therefore, the more astonished when shortly before eleven he had a telephone message from one of them. Messrs Attenborough of Dentite Street, off the Strand, who specialized in alarm clocks, had invoices lettered as was the burnt scrap. The constable suggested that perhaps French could see his way to call over.

  French, though still sceptical of result, felt he must do so. He told the man to wait for him in Dentite Street, put aside his correspondence and left the Yard.

  -13-

  THE ‘ARM C’ SCRAP

  Though the purchase of an alarm clock by Rice no longer greatly interested him, French felt that if the man really had had dealings with the Attenborough firm he, French, should know all about it. He was glad, therefore, when shown into Mr Attenborough’s private office, to find that gentleman ready to do anything in his power to assist.

  First French was shown the firm’s letter heading, which was believed to correspond with that found in the shed fire-place. For economy’s sake the same lettering was used for letter paper, bills, invoices, and sales dockets, those forms of which one is handed to the customer or enclosed in his parcel at the termination of his purchase and which is at once his record of the transaction and his receipt for the money paid.

  French carefully compared the two printings, using a powerful lens and a transparent gauge ruled into tiny squares. He was soon compelled to admit they were identical. Of course, this did not prove the burnt scrap had come from Attenborough’s. The number of firms with ‘London, WC2 Tel’ on their paper was so great that the setting up might be identical in a number of cases. But at least the balance of probability was in French’s favour.

  French next asked whether the firm had had any dealings with Rice Bros. Here a short search supplied the answer.

  The name was unknown to them. It did not follow that no goods had been supplied, but no account had been run, and no correspondence had passed.

  There remained the extremely long shot represented by the ‘arm c’ scrap of charred paper. Had the two scraps come from the same document? If so, could the document be traced by Messrs Attenborough?

  When this was put to Mr Attenborough he shook his head. It was true, he agreed, that as Rice Bros’ name was not on their books, the only document dealing with a purchase by them would be a sales docket. But to search through their old docket books would be a colossal task. He really did not think they could undertake it. Besides, these docket books were not kept indefinitely. If the original of French’s scrap had been in their books at all, it might well have been destroyed. What was the date of the scrap?

  This was a question which French had expected and he had tried to work out an answer. The shed had been rented on 1st August, and it was unlikely that anything connected with the affair would have been purchased before that date. Again, the Jane Vosper had sailed on 21st of September, and it was equally improbable that such a sale would have taken place later than, say, a week previous to the start. The purchase then would be limited to the six weeks between the beginning of August and the middle of September.

  Mr Attenborough rubbed his chin. If the ‘arm c’ referred to one of their alarm clocks, the matter would not be so overwhelming. The transaction would be recorded in the books of one salesman. If French liked, he would get this man in and French could question him?

  French would be delighted to do so. He was sorry for the trouble he was giving, but in the case of murder every avenue must be explored…

  Mr Attenborough murmured ‘Quite’, and called for Mr White. Immediately a young man with a chubby face appeared.

  ‘This is a chief-inspector from Scotland Yard, White,’ the proprietor went on. ‘He’s enquiring into a sale he thinks we may have made. Will you help him in every way you can? Now, chief-inspector, it’s up to you.’

  White proved much more intelligent than he looked and quite unexpectedly helpful. Shown the ‘arm c’, he said at once that he thought it was his writing. He couldn’t be absolutely sure, for the loop of the ‘a’ was formed with some irregularity. Sometimes if he wrote quickly this defect did occur, but very seldom.

  At French’s request he produced his books and showed examples of the perfect and defective loops, and it spoke well for the young man’s accuracy that they had to examine no less than twenty-four dockets to find one of the latter. French was delighted at this development for the obvious reason that if he could turn up the carbon block the defect might prove invaluable as an identification.

  But could he turn up the carbon block?

  White was not enthusiastic. ‘Can you tell me the date, sir?’ he asked. ‘If I knew that I could quickly find out whether my book is still existing.’

  French repeated his estimate.

  ‘I think some of the books for that period are destroyed, sir,’ White remarked to Attenborough. ‘But if you approve I could get a search made through the ledger records of the period which would show what alarm clocks were sold. This would show where to look for the dockets.’

  Attenborough nodded. ‘Do so,’ he directed, ‘and let me know if you find anything.’

  ‘Smart young man,’ said French when White had disappeared.

  ‘Yes, he’s not too bad,’ the proprietor admitted. ‘I don’t think, chief-inspector, there’s any use in your waiting. We’ll let you know if we find anything. Then if you want to make further enquiries, our books are open to you.’

  This seemed sound advice, and French took it. He returned to the Yard and picked up his abandoned correspondence.

  But he had scarcely begun work when there was a call from Attenborough’s. Mr Attenborough believed they had found the docket. If the chief-inspector would care to call back, they would show it to him.

  Quarter of an hour later French once again entered the little office. White was sent for and laid an open docket book before French. When the latter saw it he gave an involuntary gasp.

  The sale was dated for the 8th August, and read:

  4 best Invictor alarm clocks @ 21/- £4 4s 0d

  French stared. Alarm clocks! And four! Four explosions! Could it be? What about the ten-hour limit?

  There was, of course, no proof that these had been bought by Rice. Even though the defective ‘a’ looked the same, it did not follow that it was so. It would be necessary to go through all the dockets for the period to ascertain whether another showed the same peculiarity.

  French, however, did not wait for this to be done, but busied himself with his lens and bit of squared celluloid. He was more careful than ever, and the result of his examination showed that either the two copies were the same, or a very unusual coincidence had occurred. Then he shook his head. Coincidences like that didn’t occur. The papers were t
he same.

  ‘Can you remember any of the circumstances of that sale?’ he asked White. ‘Surely alarm clocks are usually bought singly. Can the fact that four were required bring back anything to your mind?’

  White said that he had been thinking over it and that he did remember the transaction. He recalled it because it had no less than four unusual features. The first was the point French had raised about four clocks having been bought. The second was that they were bought by a man of good position. He was elderly and well dressed, and White remembered thinking that alarm clocks are usually bought by poorly dressed people or women. Then thirdly, this man was very urgent that the clocks should be reliable. He wanted the best quality – the price was secondary. He wanted them to stand any amount of abuse as well as to go in any position.

  At this French felt a sudden thrill of excitement. Was there here a reference to the stowing of cases and the pitching of ships? If not, what could the requirements have meant?

  The four clocks made a fair-sized parcel and White had asked should he send them. To this the man replied no, that he would carry them. He did so, and this was the fourth unusual feature of the case. The sales docket was packed in the parcel.

  And, French thought, as part of this docket had almost certainly been found in Rice’s shed, it followed that the alarm clocks had gone there, too. And if they had gone there, for what purpose other than the blowing up of the Jane Vosper could they have been used?

  ‘Tell me, Mr Attenborough,’ he asked, ‘could those clocks have been altered by a skilful mechanic to alarm after eight or ten days, instead of hours?’

  Attenborough looked at him curiously, as if wondering what lay behind the question. ‘I’m afraid not, chief-inspector,’ he answered. ‘The clocks were twenty-four-hour clocks, which means they would go for thirty to forty hours. If they could by some means be wound each day, another wheel could no doubt be added to the alarm train, which would delay the alarm acting for the time you say. But if they were not wound it would be impossible. I do not think there would be any way of reducing the speed of the escapement so as to make one winding keep them going for that time.’