Читать книгу Will Somers, the Boy Detective - Charles Morris - Страница 6

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It was two or three days after the last-narrated events that a slender, keen-eyed person stopped in front of Mr. Leonard’s store. He was dressed in grayish clothes, and wore a wide-rimmed hat.

He glanced up at the lofty iron front, reaching five stories high, and then briskly entered the store, threading his way back between the open cases of goods which covered the long floor to the counting-house.

Sending in his card he was at once admitted to Mr. Leonard’s private office.

“Take a seat, Mr. Fitler,” said Mr. Leonard, pushing aside his papers.

Rising, he carefully closed the door and seated himself near the visitor.

“You received my message, then?”

“Yes, sir. You have need of my services?”

“I wish your advice, at any rate. But first, does any of my men know you?”

“I think not. I know none of them.”

“I have here an invoice of silks shipped me from Lyons, France, by Danton & Co. There were two cases of these goods, valued, as you see, at ten thousand dollars. The ship Everhart, which had them in freight, reached Philadelphia two weeks ago. Her cargo was duly discharged, and the goods deposited in the Government warehouse.”

“Why not brought at once to your store?” asked Mr. Fitler, drumming with his fingers on the table.

“Such was my intention, and I directed my confidential clerk, Mr. Wilson, to pay the duties, and see that they were brought here. He did the first, and obtained the Government order for their delivery, which was locked up in my presence, in the fire-proof there. He was hindered from doing the second by news of the death of a near relative in Harrisburg, whose funeral he was obliged to attend.”

“I perceive. What next?” said Mr. Fitler.

“A few words will conclude. On his return yesterday he went to the safe for the custom-house delivery-order. It was gone.”

“Were you present?”

“Yes.”

“Had you seen it in his absence?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Only for a full statement of facts.”

“You will please understand that no possible suspicion attaches to Mr. Wilson, even if his absence did not preclude it. He has been in my service for ten years, and is incorruptible.”

“Certainly,” said Mr. Fitler, in an indifferent tone. “Somebody else has taken it. But that is not all?”

“No. I have just learned that the order was presented at the bonded warehouse last Tuesday by a gentlemanly-dressed person, accompanied by a drayman. The necessary entries were made, and the goods delivered.”

“And where are they now?”

“That is what I want to find out.”

“This is a bold robbery, Mr. Leonard,” said the visitor, with energy. “It looks very much as if the black sheep was in your own store. Is there any one whom you suspect?”

“There is none.”

“Who has access to your safe?”

“Any of my book-keepers. Three or four of them are obliged to enter my office, in my absence, in the regular discharge of their duties.”

“What is the record of these three or four men?”

“The best. They are all steady, quiet business men, married and living moderately. I know them all well.”

“These smooth-watered wells are sometimes very deep,” said Mr. Fitler. “Have you any new hands?”

“Yes. One, whom I took on two weeks ago.”

“Ha!” said the visitor, interested. “Could he enter your office without suspicion?”

“He could. I have employed him as a messenger.”

“Every confidence in him, too?”

“I think him thoroughly honest.”

“You have too much trust in human nature, Mr. Leonard,” said his visitor, with a shrug. “If you were in my profession you would have very little. I would like to see this new hand. Can you call him in on some pretense?”

“You have seen him. He is the messenger I sent for you.”

“What? That boy? He in your employment? Well, that beats!” Mr. Fitler leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily but silently.

“Do you know him?” asked Mr. Leonard, with some displeasure.

“Know him? I should think so. Who don’t know Willful Will? That is his street name. Why, I thought you had picked him up at your door and sent him after me. He did look strange at me. I never saw him in a whole suit of clothes before. The idea of his settling down to steady business! Just call him in; I would like to talk with him.”

“He is not in at present. I sent him, this morning, out to my residence, near Germantown.”

“Is Mr. Wilson at hand?”

“Yes. I will call him.”

Mr. Leonard went to the door of the office and asked for Mr. Wilson. The latter was in the counting-room, and immediately entered.

The keen eyes of the visitor were fixed on him as he came in, taking in at a glance, as it seemed, every detail of his face, form and dress.

“Mr. Wilson, this is Mr. Fitler, a detective officer from the central station,” said the merchant. “I have sent for him to investigate that affair of the robbery.”

“I hope he can help us in it,” said Mr. Wilson, as he quietly seated himself.

“The rascals were wide-awake, Mr. Wilson,” said the detective, “in taking advantage of your trip to Harrisburg. Was the fact that you had paid the duties and could not attend to taking the goods out of bond talked about in the store?”

“It was no secret in the counting-room,” said Mr. Wilson.

“What is your opinion of the book-keepers, sir?”

“I have full confidence in them. They are only men, to be sure, and may have talked outside.”

“Could the store have been entered at night?”

“No, no,” said Mr. Leonard. “Nothing has been tampered with. The order was stolen in the daytime, while the safe was open.”

“How does the store-keeper at the bonded warehouse describe the parties who took away the goods?”

“In a very vague fashion,” replied Mr. Wilson. “He could not have noticed them closely. His description did not remind me of anybody I knew.”

Mr. Fitler watched him as he spoke, seeming attracted by his foppish dress and stilted manner of speaking.

“I will see the store-keeper myself,” he answered. “It is unlucky that you were called away at such a time, Mr. Wilson. Was it a near relative?”

“A first cousin,” he replied.

“Ah! I am somewhat acquainted in Harrisburg. What name, pray?”

“Miles Sartain,” answered Mr. Wilson, with composure.

“The name is not familiar. I thought I might have known him,” said the officer carelessly.

“I will drop in myself to-morrow, and look round,” he continued. “You may not know me, but don’t be surprised if a stranger makes himself at home. I will see the store-keeper this afternoon, and will set the police authorities to work to try and trace these missing goods.”

He bowed himself out of the office, leaving Mr. Wilson and his employer in busy conversation.