Mr. Dering, still smiling pleasantly, walked across the room to the safe and unlocked it. He had in his hand a brown-paper parcel tied with red tape--this he deposited in the safe, locked it up, and dropped the keys in his pocket. The window beside the safe was open. He sat down, looking out into the Square.
At this moment Checkley opened the door softly, after his wont, to bring in more letters. He stopped short, seeing his master thus seated, head in hand, at the window. He recognised the symptoms of yesterday--the rapt look, the open eyes that saw nothing. He crept on tiptoe across the room. "Hush!" he whispered. "Don"t move. Don"t speak. He went like this yesterday. Don"t make the least noise. He"ll come round presently."
"What is it?"
"Kind of fit, it is. Trouble done it. Yah! Ingrat.i.tood." He would have hissed the word, but it has no sibilant. You can"t hiss without the materials. "Yesterday"s trouble. That"s what"s done it."
They stood watching in silence for about ten minutes. The office was like the Court of the sleeping Princess. Then Checkley sneezed. Mr.
Dering probably mistook the sneeze for a kiss, for he closed his eyes for a moment, opened them again, and arose once more himself, grave and austere.
He nodded cheerfully, took off his hat, hung it on its peg, b.u.t.toned his coat, and threw open the safe. Evidently he remembered nothing of what had just pa.s.sed.
"You are early, George," he said. "You are before me, which is unusual.
However--the early bird--we know."
"Before you for once. Are you quite well this morning? None the worse for yesterday"s trouble?"
"He"s always well," said Checkley, with cheerfulness a.s.sumed. "n.o.body ever sees him ill--_he_ get ill? Not him. Eats as hearty as five-and-twenty and walks as upright."
"I am perfectly well, to the best of my knowledge. Yesterday"s business upset me for the time--but it did not keep me awake. Yet it is certainly a very great trouble. You have no news, I suppose, that brought you here earlier than usual?"
"Nothing new since yesterday."
"And you feel pretty confident?"
"I feel like a sleuth-hound. I understand the pleasures of the chase. I long to be on the scent again. As for Edmund Gray, he is as good as in prison already."
"Good. I was for the moment shaken out of myself. I was bewildered. I was unable to look at the facts of the case calmly. For the first time in my life I wanted advice. Well: I now understand what a great thing it is that our profession exists for the a.s.sistance of men in trouble. How would the world get along at all without solicitors?"
He took his usual place at the table and turned over his letters. "This morning," he went on, "I feel more a.s.sured: my mind is clear again. I can talk about the case. Now then. Let us see--Edmund Gray is no shadow but a man. He has made me recommend him to his landlord. He is a clever man and a bold man. Don"t be in a hurry about putting your hands upon him. Complete your case before you strike. But make no delay."
"There shall be none. And you shall hear everything from day to day, or from hour to hour."
Left alone, Mr. Dering returned to his papers and his work.
At half-past one, Checkley looked in. "Not going to take lunch this morning?"
"Lunch? I have only just----" Mr. Dering looked at his watch. "Bless me!
Most extraordinary! This morning has slipped away. I thought I had only just sat down. It seems not more than half an hour since Mr. Austin left me. Why, I should have forgotten all about it and let the time go by--nothing worse for a man of my years than irregular feeding."
"It"s lucky you"ve got me," said his clerk. "Half-a-dozen partners wouldn"t look after your meal-times.--Ah!" as his master went up-stairs to the room where he always had his luncheon laid out, "he"s clean forgotten. Some of these days, walking about wropped up in his thoughts, he"ll be run over.--Clean forgotten it, he has. Sits down in a dream: walks about in a dream: some of these days he"ll do something in a dream. Then there will be trouble." He closed the door and returned to his own desk, where he was alone, the juniors having gone out to dinner.
His own dinner was in his coat pocket. It consisted of a saveloy cut in thin slices and laid in bread with b.u.t.ter and mustard--a tasty meal. He slowly devoured the whole to the last crumb. Then, Mr. Dering having by this time finished his lunch and descended again, Checkley went up-stairs and finished the pint of claret of which his master had taken one gla.s.s. "It"s sour stuff," he said. "It don"t behave as wine in a man"s inside ought to behave. It don"t make him a bit joyfuller. But it"s pleasant too. Why they can"t drink Port wine--which is real wine--when they can afford it, I don"t know."
It was past three in the afternoon when George returned, not quite so confident in his bearing, yet full of news.
"If you are quite ready to listen," he said, "I"ve got a good deal to tell. First of all, I thought I would have another shot at Gray"s Inn. I went to the Chambers. The outer door was open, which looked as if the man was at home. I knocked at the inner door, which was opened by the laundress, the old woman whom I saw yesterday. "Well, sir," she said, "you are unlucky. The master has been here this very morning. And he hasn"t been long gone. You"ve only missed him by half an hour or so." I asked her if he would return that day; but she knew nothing. Then I asked her if she would let me write and leave a note for him. To this she consented, rather unwillingly. I went in therefore, and wrote my note at Mr. Gray"s table. I asked him to call here on important business, and I marked the note "Urgent." I think there can be no harm in that. Then I looked about the room. It is one of those old wainscoted rooms, furnished simply, but everything solid and good--a long table, nearly as large as this one of yours: solid chairs--a solid sofa. Three or four pictures on the wall, and a bookcase full of books. No signs of occupation: no letters: no flowers. Everything covered with dust, although the old woman was there. I could have wished to examine the papers on the table, but the presence of the old woman forbade that dishonourable act. I did, however, look at the books. And I made a most curious discovery. Mr. Edmund Gray is a Socialist. All his books are on Socialism: they are in French, German, and English: all books of Socialism. And the pictures on the wall are portraits of distinguished Socialists. Isn"t that wonderful? Did one ever hear before of Socialism and forgery going together?"
"Not too fast. We haven"t yet connected Edmund Gray with the forgery. At present, we only know that his name was used."
"Wait a bit. I am coming to that. After leaving the Chambers, I went into the City and saw Mr. Ellis. First of all, none of the stock has been sold."
"Oh! they have had three months, and they have not disposed of it? They must have met with unforeseen difficulties. Let me see."
Mr. Dering was now thoroughly alert. The weakness of the morning had completely pa.s.sed away. "What difficulties? Upon my word, I cannot understand that there could have been any. They have got the papers from a respectable solicitor through a respectable broker. No--no. Their course was perfectly plain. But rogues often break down through their inability to see the strength of their own case."
"Next, Mr. Ellis has ascertained that some of the dividends are received by your Bank. I therefore called on the manager. Now, be prepared for another surprise."
"Another forgery?"
"Yes--another forgery. It is nine or ten years since you sent a letter to the manager--I saw it--introducing your client Edmund Gray, gentleman, who was desirous of opening a private account. He paid in a small sum of money, which has been lying to his credit ever since, and has not been touched. In February last he received another letter from you; and again in March and April, forwarding certificates, and requesting him to receive the dividends. With your own hand you placed the papers in the Bank. I saw the letters. I would swear to your handwriting."
"These people are as clever as they are audacious."
"At every point a letter from you--a letter which the ablest expert would tell was your handwriting. Your name covers and vouches for everything."
"Did you tell the manager what has happened?"
"Certainly; I told him everything. And this is in substance the line he takes. "Your Partner," he says, "alleges that those papers have been procured by forgery. He says that the letter of introduction is a forgery. Very good. It may be so. But I have opened this account for a customer who brought me an introduction from the best solicitor in London, whose handwriting I know well, and recognise in the letter. Such an allegation would not be enough in itself for me to take action: until a civil or criminal action is brought--until it is concluded--I could not refuse to treat the customer like all the rest. At the same time I will take what steps I can to inquire into my customer"s antecedents.""
"Quite right," said Mr. Dering.
"I asked him next, what he would do if the customer sent for the papers.
He said that if an action were brought, he would probably be served with a _sub poena duces tec.u.m_, making him keep and produce these papers as forming part of the doc.u.ments in the case."
"Certainly, certainly; the manager knows his law."
""And," he went on, "as regards cheques, I shall pay them or receive them until restrained.""
"In other words, he said what we expected. For our own action now."
"We might apply to a judge in Chambers for an attachment or a garnishee order. That must be _pendente lite_, an interlocutory proceeding, in the action. As yet, we have not brought an action at all. My partner"--Mr.
Dering rubbed his hands cheerfully--"I think we have done very well so far. These are clumsy scoundrels, after all. They thought to divert suspicion by using my name. They thought to cover themselves with my name. But they should have sold and realised without the least delay.
Very good. We have now got our hands upon the papers. It would have complicated matters horribly had the stock been sold and transferred. So far we are safe. Because, you see, after what they have heard, the Bank would certainly not give them up without letting us know. They would warn us: they would put the man off: they would ask him awkward questions about himself. Oh! I think we are safe--quite safe."
Mr. Dering drew a long breath. "I was thinking last night," he continued, "of the trouble we might have if those certificates had changed hands. They might have been bought and sold a dozen times in four months: they might have been sold in separate small lots, and an order of the Court necessary for every transaction. We have now nothing but the simple question before us: how did the man Edmund Gray get possession of this property?"
He sat in silence for a few minutes. Then he went on quietly. "To lose this money would be a heavy blow for me--not all my fortune, nor a quarter, but a large sum. I have plenty left. I have no hungry and expectant heirs: my people are all wealthy. But yet a very heavy loss.
And then--to be robbed. I have always wondered why we left off hanging robbers. They ought to be hanged, every one. He who invades the sacred right of property should be killed--killed without hope of mercy." He spoke with the earnestness of sincerity. "To lose this property would not be ruin to me; yet it would be terrible. It would take so many years out of my past life. Every year means so much money saved. Forty thousand pounds means ten years of my past--not taken away so that I should be ten years younger, but, ten years of work annihilated. Could I forgive the man who would so injure me? Never."
"I understand," said George. "Fortunately, we shall get the papers back. The fact of their possession must connect the possessor with the fraud. Who is he? Can he be warned already? Yet who should tell him? Who knows that we have discovered the business? You--your friend Mr. Ellis--the manager of the Bank--no one else. Yes--there is also Checkley--Checkley," he repeated. He could not--yet--express his suspicions as to the old and faithful servant. "Checkley also knows."
At this point Checkley himself opened the door and brought in a card--that of the Bank manager.
"I have called," said the visitor hurriedly, "to tell you of something important, that happened this morning. I did not know it when we were talking over this business, Mr. Austin. It happened at ten o"clock, as soon as the doors were open. A letter was brought by hand from Mr.
Dering----"
"Another forgery! When will they stop?"
"----asking for those certificates to be given to the bearer--Mr. Edmund Gray"s certificates. This was done. They are no longer at the Bank."