Читать книгу The Carson Loan Mystery - Aidan de Brune - Страница 11

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"YOU'RE making an astounding statement, Smith," said Rugh gravely. "What are your grounds?"

Joseph Smith stretched his long legs in front of him and thrust his thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat.

"Th' trouble wi' you towns-folk is that you can't see what's under your eyes," he said in his peculiar drawl. "I was stayin' at th' Coffee Palace when this 'ere murder 'appened an' I thought as 'ow I'd take a look round an' see if there was anythin' about as you town-fellers 'adn't noticed."

"City folks are unobservant," remarked Harry, gravely.

"You've sed it Mr. Sutherland," answered the bushman earnestly. "There's a lot on th' ground, an' in th' air, an' sky they don't see. Cos why? They ain't edicated t' it. Well, as I ses, I 'ad a look round so far as th' cops 'ud let me. That wasn't fur, for they'd got a lot ov men marchin' round in a big circle, a-warnin' peoples orf. I wanders round th' circle, an' looks about me, an' comes across a pad as led from where th' woman was lyin', down to t' beach. I'd given up 'opes ov a look round when th' cops stopped me from goin' t' where she was found, so I wanders down that pad, casual-like.

"Suddenly I saw sumthin' that made me look agen. It was a bootmark, an' looked as if it 'ud been made about th' time th' woman 'ad been murdered. I trailed it up an' found th' t' other one—that's th' left foot, an' saw as 'e was lame."

"You're certain of that, Mr. Smith?" interposed Rugh.

"You can't deceive me as t' pads," replied Joseph Smith proudly. "I've seen too many ov 'em. 'E wos goin' down to th' water, but I followed 'im up backwards, 'cos I wanted ter see where 'e'd cum from. Th' pads led right up to where th' body 'ad laid. When I got to th' police circle a cop stops me. I showed 'im th' mark, an' e calls a pal, an' they calls th sergeant. 'E looks at th' pad as if 'e'd never seen one affore, an' e asks me wot I wanted ter do."

"I told 'im I wanted ter foller 'em up, an' 'e asks: 'Wot for?' I ses, I suspicioned as th' bloke as made 'em might 'ave 'ad sumthin' ter do wi' th' murder. 'There's been a lot ov our chaps a-walkin' round 'ere,' e remarks, an' I agrees. It wos plain ter see they 'ad. 'Can you follow 'em up?' asks Mr. Sergeant, an' I answers as 'ow I might try. 'Very-well, then,' e ses, 'Come along.'"

"So I went along an' th' Sergeant went wi' me, watchin' me sharp. I showed 'im th' pads 'ere an' there, an' e ses, 'Jest so,' an' 'Certainly.' Then we comes to th' place where th' body wos found, an' there, 'arf under a big footmark as wos like th' Sergeants's, I found another pad ov th' limpin' man."

"Th' Sergeant wouldn't let me go down th' 'ollow, but I walks alon' th' edge. Presently I stops an' bends down. 'Wot d'yer see?' asks th' Sergeant. 'Th' limpin' man came over 'ere,' I ses. 'Sure?' 'e ses. 'Certain,' ses I, 'an' e came from over there.' I followed th' pads up, th' Sergeant tailin' on behind me, an' th' pads went down another 'ollow. At th' bottom I turns up th' sand a bit. 'Wot d'yer make ov that?' I asks th' Sergeant, 'andin 'im a bit ov caked sand. 'Wot is it?' 'e asks. 'Blood,' ses I. 'Th' poor creature was dumped 'ere first, an' then dragged over there. There's th' marks plain ter be seen.' But 'e couldn't see 'em. Those town cops aren't edicated enough. Th' tracks led out ov th' 'ollow an' up to th' road, an' just afore 'em was th' tracks ov where a motor car 'ad pulled orf th' road, an' stood sum time."

Rugh looked at Harry. The journalist had his lips pursed in a silent whistle.

"What did you do then?" asked Rugh of the bushman.

"Followed th' pads back agen," answered Smith promptly. "I wos curious ter see where they led to. So, wos th' Sergeant, fer 'e came with me. They went right down th' track to th' beach an' down t' where th' tide 'ad washed 'em out. I cast round a bit, an' then th' Sergeant left me. But I wouldn't give up. Th' bloke never went down there fer nothin'."

"I got a good way alon' th' beach afore I chances on wot I wos lookin' fer. It wos this."

The bushman pulled from his pocket a roll of newspaper and placed it on the desk. Harry reached over and unrolled it. In the paper lay a woman's stocking, dirty and sodden by sea-water.

"A stocking!" Harry gave a shout.

"The lost stocking. I wondered where it had got to," he cried. Then noticing Rugh's astonishment. "Didn't you know, Rugh. The clothing found with the woman was incomplete. Among the things missing was a stocking?"

"I didn't know that neither," put in the bushman. "But I did know as that limpin' man 'adn't gone down to th' beach fer nothin'."

"A limping man, a stocking, and the body dragged from one place to another," commented Rugh. "The mystery deepens."

"What's this?" exclaimed Harry, who had been handling the stocking. "There's something in it."

Gingerly he turned the stocking inside out. There rolled on to the desk a well-worn gold ring, tarnished by sea-water. It was a man's signet ring, and on the shield were engraved letters. Harry picked up a magnifying glass lying on the desk and examined the engraving.

"As well as I can make out it's a couple of 'C's,'" he remarked.

Two 'C's' exclaimed Rugh. He leaned over and took the ring from the journalist. A glance satisfied him that Harry was correct.

"Colin Carson!" Harry uttered the thought in Rugh's mind.

"Nonsense," exclaimed Rugh. "'C's' are common initials. The woman's name was Collins. Probably her husband had a christian name commencing with 'C.'"

"His name is 'William,'" stated Harry. "I've seen the man. 'William is his one and only name."

"Still this ring might not have belonged to Colin Carson," argued Rugh.

"And yet it might." Harry took the ring and dropped it in the stocking again. Then he rolled the stocking in the newspaper and handed the package to Smith.

"My advice to you Mr. Smith is, to go down to the Police Headquarters in Hunter Street, and see Inspector Richards. Give him this and explain where you found it. Make your statements as fully as you have made it to Mr. Thornton and myself."

"Sure," replied the bushman, pocketing the package. "Hope I 'avn't done wrong in comin' ter you fellers?"

"Not at all," replied the journalist suavely. "We are much obliged for your interesting narrative. At the same time I would suggest you did not mention at the Police Department your call on Mr. Thornton and myself. These 'cops' as you expressively name them, are rather jealous of newspaper men, and might resent you informing us of your find."

"I'll make a note ov that," said Joseph Smith, shaking hands formally and vigorously.

"Colin Carson, again," said Rugh, softly, as the door closed on the bushman.

"Sorry I blundered, old man," remarked Harry. "Shouldn't have mentioned the name before our bushman friend. But it was a blow under the belt."

"How did the woman come to have Colin Carson's ring?" asked Rugh perplexedly. "Of course, there is nothing to prove it is Carson's ring, but it looks bad."

"Coupled with the tale of the telephone message to Wilbur Orchard, it certainly does look bad," agreed Harry. "I was half inclined to keep the bally thing, but—"

"Wouldn't have been wise," replied Rugh. "Smith might have talked. Looks as if Wilbur Orchard was right in saying he believed a fraud on the Balmain and South was brewing."

"You've got your work cut out," commented Harry sliding down into his chair, in a characteristic attitude. "A fight to a finish between Rugh Thornton, the famous assurance investigator, and a gang of crooks."

"The purse being two hundred thousand pounds," added Rugh with a laugh. "I don't feel at all—"

The telephone bell broke in on his sentence. Rugh picked up the receiver and gave his name. Then he listened intently for a couple of minutes.

"Richards wants to see me at once," he said, as he replaced the receiver. "He says there's a new development in the Little Bay murder."

Harry looked at his watch.

"Smith hasn't had time to reach Headquarters," he observed. "Appears to me things are moving rapidly this morning."