Part 22 (2/2)
He looked round the table, evidently bent on securing our attention to their particular point. We were all, of course, fully acquainted with the details he was unfolding, but he was summing things up in quite judicial fas.h.i.+on, and there was a certain amount of intellectual satisfaction in listening to a succinct resume. One of us, at any rate, was following him with rapt attention--Miss Raven. I fancied I saw why--Baxter, or Netherfield, had already presented himself to her as a personage of a dark and romantic, if deeply-wicked and even blood-stained sort.
”Now,” continued Lorrimore, becoming more judicial than ever, ”according to the official accounts, as shown at Lloyds, the _Elizabeth Robinson_ never reached Chemulpo, and she is--officially--believed to have been lost, with all hands, during a typhoon, in the Yellow Sea. All hands! But we know that, whatever happened to the _Elizabeth Robinson_, and to the rest of the crew, certain men who were on board her when she left Hong-Kong, for Chemulpo, did escape whatever catastrophe occurred. The _Elizabeth Robinson_ may be at the bottom of the Yellow Sea, and most of her folk with her. But in course of time Noah Quick turns up at Devonport in England, in possession, evidently, of plenty of money. He takes a licensed house, runs it on highly respectable lines, and comports himself as a decent member of society; also he prospers, and has a very good balance at his bankers. So there is one man who certainly did not go down with the _Elizabeth Robinson_. And now--to keep matters in chronological order--we hear of another. A Chinaman, undoubtedly Lo Chuh Fen, turns up at Lloyds and endeavours to find out if this _Elizabeth Robinson_ ever did reach Chemulpo. There is a strange point here--Lo Chuh Fen certainly sailed out of Hong-Kong with the _Elizabeth Robinson_, bound for Chemulpo, yet, some years later, he is inquiring in London, if the _Elizabeth Robinson_ ever reached her destination. Why? Did the _Elizabeth Robinson_ touch at any port after leaving Hong-Kong? Did Lo Chuh Fen leave her at any such port? We don't know--and for the moment it is not material; what is material is that a second member of the company on board the _Elizabeth Robinson_ did not go down with her in the Yellow Sea if, as is said, she did go. So there are two survivors--Noah Quick and Lo Chuh Fen. And now a third is added in the person of another Quick--Salter, who turns up at Devonport as the guest of Noah, and who, like his brother, is evidently in possession of a plenitude of this world's goods. He has money in the bank, is a gentleman of leisure, and, like Noah, a person of reserved speech.”
Lorrimore was now fairly into his stride, and becoming absorbed in his summing-up. He pushed aside his gla.s.s and other table impediments, and leaning forward spoke more earnestly, emphasising his words with equally emphatic gestures.
”A person of reserved speech!” he continued. ”But--on one occasion, at any rate, so eager to get hold of information, that he casts his habitual reserve aside. On a certain day in March of this year, Salter Quick, with a handsome amount of ready money in his pocket, leaves Devonport, saying that he is going away for a few days. We next hear of him at an hotel in Alnwick, where he is asking for information about certain churchyards on this Northumbrian coast wherein he will find the graves of people of the name of Netherfield--the name of a man, be it remembered, who was with him and his brother Noah Quick, on board the _Elizabeth Robinson_. Next morning he meets with Mr.
Middlebrook on the headlands between Alnmouth and Ravensdene Court and taking him for an inhabitant of these parts, he puts the same question to him. He accompanies Mr. Middlebrook to an inn on the cliffs; he asks the same question there--and there, evidently to his great discomfiture, he hears that another man, whose ident.i.ty did not then appear, but who, we now know, was only a casual traveller who was merely repeating Salter Quick's own questions of the previous evening which he had overheard at Alnwick, had been asking similar questions.
Why had Salter Quick travelled all the way from Devonport to Northumberland to find the graves of some people named Netherfield? We don't know--but we do know that on the very night of the day on which he had asked his questions of Mr. Middlebrook and of Claigue, the landlord, Salter Quick was murdered. And on that same night, at Devonport, four hundred miles away, his brother, Noah Quick, met a similar fate.”
Mr. Cazalette came back into the room. He was carrying a couple of fat quarto books under one arm, and a large folio under the other, and he looked as if he had many important things to communicate. But Miss Raven smilingly motioned him to be seated and silent, and Lorrimore, with a glance at him which a judge might have bestowed on some belated counsel who came tip-toeing into his court, went on.
”Now,” he said, ”there were certain similarities in these two murders which lead to the supposition that, far apart as they were, they were the work of a gang, working with common purpose. There was no robbery from the person in either instance, though each victim had money and valuables on him to a considerable amount. But each man had been searched. Pockets had been turned out--clothing ripped up. In the case of Salter Quick, we are familiar with the details of the tobacco-box, on the inner lid of which there was a roughly-scratched plan of some place, and of the handkerchief bearing a monogram which Mr. Cazalette discovered near the scene of the murder. These are details--of great importance--the true significance of which does not yet appear. But the real, prime detail is the curious, mysterious connection between the name Netherfield, which Salter Quick was so anxious to find on gravestones in some Northumbrian churchyard or other, and the man of that name who was with him on the _Elizabeth Robinson_. And we are at once faced with the question--was the man, Netherfield Baxter, who left Blyth some years ago, the man Netherfield, described as of Blyth, whose name was on the _Elizabeth Robinson's_ list?”
Mr. Raven treated us to one of his characteristic sniffs. He had a way, when he was stating what he considered to be a dead certainty, or when he was a.s.senting to one, of throwing up his head and sniffing, with a somewhat cynical smile as accompaniment. He sniffed now, and Lorrimore went on--to a peroration.
”There can be no doubt about it!” he said with emphasis. ”A Blyth man, a seafarer, named Solomon Fish, chances to be in Hull and, in a tavern there which is evidently the resort of seafaring folk, sees a man whom he instantly recognizes as Netherfield Baxter, whom he had known as child, boy and young man. He accosts him--the man denies it. We need pay no attention whatever to that denial: we may be quite sure from the testimony of Fish that the man is Baxter. Now then, what is Baxter doing? He is evidently in possession of ample funds--he and his companions buy a small vessel, a twenty-ton yawl, in which, they said, they want to cross the North Sea to the Norwegian fiords. And who are his companions? One is a Chinaman. Probably Lo Chuh Fen. The other is a Frenchman, who, says Mr. Jallanby, the Hull s.h.i.+p-broker, was addressed as Vicomte. He, probably, is an adventurer, and a criminous one, like Baxter, and--he is also probably the owner of the handkerchief which Mr. Cazalette found, stained with Salter Quick's blood!”
Lorrimore paused a moment, looking round to see how this impressed us.
The last suggestion was new to me, but I saw its reasonableness and nodded. Lorrimore nodded back, and continued.
”Now a last word,” he said. ”I, personally, haven't a doubt that these three, one or other of 'em, murdered the Quicks, and that they're now going to take up that swag which Baxter and the dishonest bank-manager safely planted somewhere. But--I don't believe it's buried or secreted in any out-of-the-way place on the coast. I know where I should look for it, and where Scarterfield ought to search for it.”
”Where, then?” I exclaimed.
”Well,” he answered, ”the thing is--to consider what those fellows were likely to do with the old monastic plate and the jewels and so on when they'd got them. They probably knew that the ancient chalices, reliquaries, and that sort of thing would fetch big prices, sold privately to collectors--especially to American collectors, who, as everybody knows, are not at all squeamish or particular about the antecedents of property so long as they secure it. I should say that Baxter, acting for his partner in crime, stored these things, and has waited for a favourable opportunity to resume possession of them. I incline to the opinion that he stored them at Hartlepool, or at Newcastle, or at South-s.h.i.+elds--at any place whence they could easily be transferred by s.h.i.+p. He may, indeed, have stored them at Liverpool, for easy transit across the Atlantic. I don't believe in the theory that they're planted in some hole-and-corner of the coast.”
”In that case, what becomes of Salter Quick's search for the graves of the Netherfields?” I suggested.
”Can't say,” replied Lorrimore, with a shrug of his shoulders. ”But Salter Quick may have got hold of the wrong tale, or half a tale, or mixed things up. Anyway, that's my opinion--that this stolen property is not cached anywhere, but is somewhere within four respectable walls, and if I were Scarterfield, I should communicate with stores and repositories asking for information about goods left with them some time ago and not yet reclaimed.”
”Good idea!” agreed Mr. Raven. ”Much more likely than the buried treasure notion.”
”To which, however, I incline,” I said stubbornly. ”When Salter Quick sought for the graves of the Netherfields, he had a purpose.”
Mr. Cazalette came nearer the table with his big volumes. It was very evident that he had made some discovery and was anxious to tell us of it.
”Before you go any further into that matter,” said he, laying down his burdens, ”there are one or two things I should like to draw your attention to in connection with what Middlebrook told us before I left the room just a while since. Now about that monastic plate, Middlebrook, of which you've seen the inventories--you may not be aware of it, but there's a reference to that matter in Dryman's 'History of the Religious Foundations of Northumberland' which I will now read to you. Hear you this, now:
”_Abbey of Forestburne._--It is well known that the altar vessels, plate, and jewels of this house were considerable in number and in value, but were never handed over to the custodians of the King's Treasury House in London. They were duly inventoried by the receivers in these parts, and there are letters extant recording their dispatch to London. But they never reached their destination, and it is commonly believed that like a great deal more of the monastic property of the Northern districts these valuables were appropriated by high-placed persons of the neighbourhood who employed their underlings, marked and disguised, to waylay and despoil the messengers entrusted to carry them Southward. N. B.--These foregoing remarks apply to the plate and jewels which appertained to the adjacent Priory of Mellerton, which were also of great value.”
”So,” continued Mr. Cazalette, ”there's no doubt, in my mind, anyway, that the plate of which Middlebrook saw the inventories is just what they describe it to be, and that it came, in course of time, into the hands of the Lord Forestburne who deposited it in yon bank. And now,”
he went on, opening the biggest of his volumes, ”here's the file of a local paper which your respected predecessor, Mr. Raven, had the good sense to keep, and I've turned up the account of the inquest that was held at Blyth on yon dishonest bank-manager. And there's a bit of evidence here that n.o.body seems to have drawn Scarterfield's attention to. 'The deceased gentleman,' it reads, 'was very fond of the sea, and frequently made excursions along our beautiful coast in a small yacht which he hired from Messrs. Capsticks, the well-known boat-builders of the town. It will be remembered that he had a particular liking for night-sailing, and would often sail his yacht out of harbour late of an evening in order, as he said, to enjoy the wonderful effects of moonlight on sea and coast.' That, you'll bear in mind,” concluded Mr.
Cazalette, with a more than usually sardonic grin, ”was penned by some fatuous reporter before they knew that the deceased gentleman had robbed the bank. And no doubt it was on those night excursions that he, and this man Baxter that we've heard of, carried away the stolen valuables, and safely hid them in some quiet spot on this coast--and there you'll see, they'll be found all in good time. And as sure as my name is what it is, Dr. Lorrimore, it was that spot that Salter Quick was after--only he wasn't exactly certain where it was, and had somehow got mixed about the graves of the Netherfields. Man alive! yon plate of the old monks is buried under some Netherfield headstone at this minute!”
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