Читать книгу The Shadow Crook - Aidan de Brune - Страница 5

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Inspector Mason tossed restlessly on his bed through the long night hours. The strange visit of the Shadow Crook to Police Headquarters and the rapid series of mysterious events following the extinction of the lights, puzzled and perplexed him. What had been the object of the Shadow Crook's visit? What interest had the man in the finger-print records of the convict, Stacey Carr, better known to the gaol authorities as "Old Man Carr?" Further, why had he, when in possession of the information he had risked so much to gain, deliberately abandoned it? The Inspector could have understood the problem better if the crook, had taken the record cards with him. Then there would have been something tangible to work on—a definite clue providing a starting point for his investigations.

At the time of the trial of Stacey Carr the Inspector had been stationed at one of the inland town's with only the newspaper reports for information; He remembered the man had not belonged to the criminal class, nor had he been an associate of criminals. His theft, a jewel robbery—had been a lone-hand crime and a first offence. He had bungled the business, providing clear evidence against himself although pleading "not guilty."

Stacey Carr had entered the prison gates sentenced to ten years' hard labour. Only within the past few months had the Shadow Crook come on the scene. There was a big interval of time between the histories of the two men. Where was the connection?

The Shadow Crook had had no part in Stacey Carr's crime. If, as Mason believed, the mysterious criminal was a young man, he could have been little more than a youth when Stacey Carr fell into the hands of the police. Yet the evidence was plain that the Shadow Crook's visit to Police Headquarters the previous night was connected with the Stacey Carr records.

Stacey Carr was dead; he had died in prison the afternoon of the Shadow Crook's raid. Had the Shadow Crook known this when he planned his sensational adventure? It was inconceivable that the master criminal should have risked his liberty in ignorance of that vital fact.

Stacey Carr was dead; and the Shadow Crook had known it before he planned and executed his raid. Mason was certain that the raid was the outcome of the death of the convict. But he could not conceive a reason, however fantastic, for the desire to see, yet not possess, the finger prints and records of the dead man.

Soon after daylight Mason, rose and dressed. For a time he wandered about the house then, taking his hat, went down to the city. It was too early to get into the library at Police Headquarters. For a time he wandered around the fast-filling streets, then sought breakfast at a Pitt-street restaurant.

Again at Headquarters, he had to wait until the officer-in-charge of the library arrived. Very eagerly he seized the big cutting-book and turned the leaves until he came to the records of the Stacey Carr trial.

An hour later he left the library, very dissatisfied, and went to his office. Soon after half-past ten he was informed the Commissioner had arrived at Headquarters and immediately sought an interview.

In the waiting-room Mason found Sergeant Anderson and the constables who had been on duty the previous night. A few minutes and they were admitted to the presence of Sir Witlow Graham.

It was not a long inquiry. Sir Witlow at first expressed disbelief that even so daring a criminal as the Shadow Crook would invade Police Headquarters, but Mason and his companions told so plain a tale that disbelief was turned to anger. At the conclusion of the interview Inspector Mason was detailed to arrest and bring in the Shadow Crook, at all costs, immediately.

Leaving Police Headquarters, Mason walked down Phillip-street towards King-street. One of the facts he had noted in the records of the Stacey Carr trial was the name of the defending barrister, Cranford Hughes. The Inspector had decided to hear the barrister's account of the trial and his opinions of the convict. He believed that by following up the Stacey Carr clue he would get on the track of the Shadow Crook.

Ascending the steps of Risdon Court, one of the building-warrens housing Sydney's legal talent, Mason came in sharp contact with a tall, good-looking, fair man of about thirty years of age. A sudden wave of memory caused the detective to turn and follow him out on the pavement.

"Mr. Cranford Hughes, I believe?"

"Yes. That is my name." The barrister swung round suddenly. "I don't think I know you."

"Inspector Mason, from Headquarters, Mr. Hughes. Are you engaged at the moment? If so, I will call later."

"Important business?"

For a moment the eyes of the two men met and held. The level grey eyes of the barrister were trustworthy and Mason determined on the sudden attack.

"Police Headquarters were raided last night, Mr. Hughes."

"Raided?" The barrister was startled. "What do you mean, Inspector?"

"Just whether you are able to spare me half-an-hour now, or later."

"Come now." Cranford turned on his heels and went back into the building. At the end of the long ground-floor corridor he opened a door and led through the clerks' office to his own room. He motioned the police officer to a chair and seated himself at his desk. For some moments he leaned forward, his elbows on the table, gazing intently at the Inspector.

"Well?" Then, with sudden change of voice. "Smoke, Inspector?"

"Thanks." Mason helped himself from the box the barrister shoved across the desk and lit the cigar. He lay back in the deep chair drawing in the fragrant smoke in silence for a couple of minutes; then, without preface, commenced the story of the Shadow Crook's raid on Police Headquarters.

"Marvellous!" Cranford had sat forward, eagerly following every detail of the detective's story. "That man's got brains! Now, where do I come in?"

"You defended Stacey Carr at his trial?"

"The sins of my youth again confront me!" Cranford laughed slightly. "I was a young man, then, Inspector. Let me see, it must be over four years ago."

"I am hoping that among your records of the trial of Stacey Carr there may be some clue that will lead me to the Shadow Crook."

"So!" The barrister struck a table bell sharply. To the clerk who answered the summons he said: "Bring me the Stacey Carr brief, convicted about four years ago of the theft of certain jewellery."

A long interval, during which the two men sat in silence, smoking. Then, the clerk returned and deposited a dusty-stained file on the desk before the barrister. Cranford untied the red tape and spread the paper on the desk.

"What particular point do you seek, Inspector?"

"I hardly know." Mason hesitated. "Would it be too much to ask you to tell me the history of the trial as you saw it—that is, from the defence point of view. Of course, I can get the prosecution brief from the Crown Law Office."

"Rather a big order." The fair face of the barrister broke into a smile. "Yes, I think I can give you a very fair resume of the trial, if you don't object to many pauses, to consult documents. For details, well, here is the file for the defence. You are at liberty to call on my clerk at any time and examine the documents at your leisure."

"That will suit me." The Inspector leaned forward. "I hope you will deal with as many points as possible, in your recital."

For some minutes the barrister sat, turning over the documents in the file, reading a note here and there, at times perusing the whole of a document. At length, he commenced to speak in a low tone and with a hesitation that disappeared as he warmed to his subject.

"I am going to admit at once that if I conducted the defence of Stacey Carr to-day I would take a very different line from the one I took nearly five years ago. First, I will say that I never believed the man was guilty. He was a victim of circumstances and for some reason the trial was hurried on in an indecent manner. Again, the verdict was harsh and the sentence almost vindictive. The man should not have been sentenced to more than five years' imprisonment, if sentenced at all.

"Stacey Carr was a jeweller in a small way of business in—let me see—yes, Carew Lane, a turning off George-street, City. He had a small shop with a fairly large work-room behind. The shop trade was of little account, although I believe he kept some very fair stones in stock. His principal occupation was the restoration and curing of jewels."

The barrister paused and turned over some papers.

"I don't know if you are aware of it, Inspector, but gems and especially pearls suffer from what is commonly termed 'diseases.' Stacey Carr did supply me with the technical terms, but I have forgotten them. I think you know, however, that pearls, especially, are subject to loss of brilliancy and discolouring, if kept unworn for any length of time. Other jewels have, at times, to be 'doctored' by experts to restore them to their original quality.

"Stacey Carr was one of those 'jewel-doctors.' I was informed by several jewellers that he had gone far beyond his associates in this branch of the work. In fact, he boasted to me that he could restore any jewel to its original worth, no matter, in what condition it was brought to him.

"Stacey Carr was charged with the theft of certain sapphires, the property of Mrs. Kynaston, of Melbourne, Victoria. It was claimed for the prosecution that Mrs. Kynaston's jewels had for some time been 'sick.' She had inquired among the Melbourne jewellers and they had advised her to consult Stacey Carr. At first, she had disliked the idea of sending her pets so far from her charge, but later decided to bring them to Sydney and remain here while Stacey Carr attended to them. She gave evidence that she wrote to Stacey Carr and that he replied asking her to bring the stones to him. He guaranteed to restore them to their original value.

"About the same time as Mrs. Kynaston arrived in Sydney with her sapphires, a man named Abel Mintos came to the city from Broome, Western Australia, in search of Stacey Carr. He had been a pearl-buyer in that far-off pearly town and brought with him to Sydney three pearls, known as the White Trinity. They were of considerable value and absolutely unique. Each pearl was about sixteen grams in weight and the three were joined by a very thin thread of pearl-like substance. The pearls had 'sickened,' and Mintos had come across the continent to consult Stacey Carr, admittedly the only man capable of dealing with them.

"From evidence brought out at the trial Stacey Carr did not appear impressed by his clients. He seemed not a wit concerned that Mrs. Kynaston was one of the leading society women of the Commonwealth. He rated her severely on her methods of keeping, cleaning and wearing her sapphires. To Abel Mintos, he pointed out that pearls were particularly subject to 'sickness.' He spent some time over the White Trinity and finally told the owner that, although he could restore the pearls, they would continually require an expert's care—that the White Trinity was practically valueless, in that the pearls contained an inherent weakness that would cause them to be almost continually 'invalid.' While he did not appear impressed by his clients, Stacey Carr certainly made an impression on them. They left his small, dingy shop, confident that he could restore their jewels.

"The pearls and sapphires disappeared three days after they were handed over to Stacey Carr." Cranford spoke warmly. "Certain happenings caused the two clients to call upon Stacey Carr for the return of the jewels and he professed to know nothing about them. Yet he had given detailed receipts for the jewels. Mrs. Kynaston went to the police and Abel Mintos followed suit."

"The jewels were never found?" asked the Inspector, curiously.

"The jewels were never found," agreed the barrister. "Stacey Carr's shop is only a small one and the police ransacked it from roof to foundations, but without success. They searched the rooms he occupied in Crown-street, Darlinghurst, but with no result. From the days Mrs. Kynaston and Abel Mintos handed the jewels, to Stacey Carr they disappeared, completely."

"What explanation did Stacey Carr give?" asked the detective.

"He gave none—he was not in a condition to give any explanation. Two days before he was arrested he was found insensible on the floor of his shop by a patrolling constable."

"Ah!" The exclamation came from the Inspector's lips, almost as a sigh.

"You think Carr was assaulted and the jewels stolen from his shop?" asked Cranford quickly.

"It is a possibility."

"One, I am afraid, I did not stress sufficiently at the trial." The barrister smiled wryly. "As I have said, I was young then and my sins now rise against me."

"You think he was innocent?"

"Do you?"

"What was known of his associates?"

"They were very few. Most of the jewellers in the city in good standing came forward to testify to his known worth and character at his trial."

"He had no connections of a shady character?" Mason asked, thoughtfully. "Those small jewellers often gather around them men of indifferent character. A man, such as you describe Stacey Carr to be, would almost certainly attract men on the look-out for a big haul. The sapphires and pearls would be a wonderful lure."

"Outside of his business associates, Carr had very few acquaintances and practically no friends."

"You traced up everyone who knew him?" asked the detective.

"The police did that and were good enough to give me all the information they gathered. There was one man—"

"Yes?" The Inspector leaned forward as the barrister hesitated.

"It seemed absurd to doubt him." Cranford spoke hesitatingly. "Yet, somehow, I had a feeling that he could have helped me more if he had chosen. He came forward as a witness at the trial. He gave his evidence well and at its close made an impassioned appeal to the jury, on Stacey Carr's behalf."

"And, his name?"

"A queer name." The barrister shuffled his papers for a few seconds. "Ah, here it is! Samuel Keene, Address, the Sydney Hotel. A native of Victoria. Independent means. Interested in jewels and brought into court a really wonderful collection of coloured stones. Admitted he had a great liking for sapphires. Told the Judge he had a passion for pearls, but that they were hopeless for a single man; that a man who made a hobby of pearls, should be married, so that his wife could keep them healthy by wearing them."

"Rather an unique witness."

"He was." Cranford leaned back and laughed slightly. "He gave the court a pleasant interlude in a some what sordid trial."

"What was his connection with Stacey Carr?"

"Stacey Carr could not remember the man, although by permission of the judge. Mr. Keene made several attempts to awaken memory in the accused man's fogged mind. Therefore we had to be content with Mr. Keene's account of the intimacy between them."

"And, that?"

"Mr. Keene stated that he first met Carr through the introduction of a jeweller he had consulted about certain of his stones. He went to Carr at the Carew Lane shop. At first Carr was shy, but gradually thawed under Keene's blandishments." Again the barrister paused. "Keene made no secret of his attempts to get into Carr's good graces. From his evidence he appears to have been successful, and Carr allowed him to hang around the hop, as he wished."

"Ah!" Mason leaned eagerly forward. "How old was this man, Samuel Keene?"

"About twenty-four or twenty-five." Cranford looked slightly surprised: "Peculiarly, I did not ask that question' at the beginning of my examination."

"And this trial took place—?"

"A few days over four years and eight months ago."

"Then Samuel Keene must now be about thirty years of age." Again Mason spoke to himself.

"About that." The barrister agreed. "What's the connection, Inspector?"

"Connection? I never said there was one." Mason appeared to come out of a reverie. "I was wondering about Samuel Keene's devotion to jewels—and an old jeweller."

"And—"

"Interested to know where Mr. Samuel Keene, gentleman of independent means, of Victoria, is now."