Читать книгу The Adventures Of Tyler Tatlock, Private Detective - James Edward Muddock - Страница 5

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I HAD occasion one morning to call on Tatlock at his chambers on a matter of business in which we were jointly engaged. Having spent an hour with him, and discussed the subject of my visit, I was about to take my departure, when he pushed a box of cigars towards me, inviting me to help myself, and as he lit his he remarked:

'By the way, that's rather a curious case at Flaxton, isn't it?'

'What case is that?' I asked, not knowing what he referred to.

'Oh, haven't you heard of it. Here, read that,' and he tossed a copy of the 'Standard' to me, in which he had marked with a blue pencil the following paragraph:

MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF MR. GEORGE GRAVELING—SUPPOSED SUICIDE.

Early on Friday morning last a gamekeeper in the service of Sir John Sterling of Flaxton was crossing the wild moorland which stretches between that place and Hutton, on the line of railway between York and Scarborough, when he came across the dead body of a well-dressed man lying in a little hollow that was partly concealed by heather and bracken. The gamekeeper's attention was attracted by a flock of crows hovering over the spot, and evidently greatly excited about something. Thinking there might be a disabled sheep lying there, he approached the spot, and to his horror saw the body of a man lying on its back at the bottom of a basin-like depression. Having satisfied himself that the man was dead, the gamekeeper hurried back to Flaxton, a distance of four miles, and informed his master, Sir John Sterling, of what he had seen. Sir John lost no time in giving information to the police, and in company with a small body of the rural constabulary he drove over to the place where the gamekeeper had seen the body lying. They took a country cart with them, with a layer of straw at the bottom. On this the body was laid, and conveyed to Flaxton, where the identity of the deceased was at once established by means of letters and cards in his pocket. The body proved to be that of Mr. George Graveling, the well-known bookmaker, of Glasgow and London. A considerable amount of valuable property was found in the pockets, including a gold watch and chain, a massive gold pencil case, nearly fifteen pounds in gold, and about twenty pounds in Scotch bank-notes. It appears that Mr. Graveling had travelled from Glasgow to York to attend the York races two days previously to his body being discovered on the moor. He was apparently in the best of health and spirits, and he was known to have won a very large sum of money at the York meeting. He was supposed to have returned to Glasgow the same night, and how he came to his death in the lonely spot where his body was found is at present a mystery, which no doubt the coroner's inquest will be able to clear up.

'Yes,' I remarked, as I finished reading the item of news, 'yes, it's rather a curious business.'

'I am going down to the inquest,' said Tatlock, in the apparently unconcerned way in which he usually spoke. 'Sir John Sterling has wired to me asking me to attend.'

'Why?'

'Don't know,' answered Tatlock, shrugging his shoulders, and puffing out a great volume of smoke from his mouth. 'Foul play suspected, I suppose.'

'When do you go?'

'To-night. The inquest is to be held to-morrow.'

The foregoing is the prologue, so to speak, to as remarkable a crime as the annals of evil-doing can furnish us with, and the particulars of the case I now give from Tatlock's own notes and papers.

The external medical examination of the body failed to reveal any cause of death, but an autopsy made it clear that the deceased had died from poison, and that poison diluted oxalic acid, although there were traces of laudanum detected. The evidence given at the inquest brought out the following facts: Mr. Graveling was a wealthy man, and greatly respected. He was noted for his generous liberality and kindly disposition. He was in the habit of attending most of the great race meetings throughout the country. He left Glasgow on the Wednesday night preceding his death, travelled to York, and was present at the races. He dined with some friends at an hotel in York, but left them early, saying he was going to make a call in the town, and intended to get the down train to Glasgow. From that hour to the discovery of his body on the moor the following morning his movements were shrouded in mystery. The spot where he was found was about eight miles from York and two from Flaxton, a station on the direct line of railway between York and Scarborough. It was obvious, therefore, that he could not have travelled by the Scottish train. Had it not been for the mere chance of Sir John Sterling's gamekeeper crossing the moor, and having his curiosity aroused by the crows, the body might have lain undiscovered for months, possibly years.

Had his money and other property been taken from him a motive for crime would have been established, but though several of those who were at the races with him declared that he had a very large sum in his possession when he left the course, no evidence was forthcoming to show, if that was the case, what he had done with it. He did not keep a banking account in York.

There was one other item found amongst the effects in his pocket, and a very significant item it was, being nothing more nor less than a glass-stoppered two-ounce phial, which had contained oxalic acid. It was in the breast pocket of his coat.

As may be supposed, the most exhaustive inquiries were made with a view to determining the source from whence the poison had been obtained, and for this purpose the inquest was adjourned from week to week for three weeks. But the mystery could not be cleared up. In the end there seem to have been divided opinions as to how the deceased came by his death, and this verdict was returned:

That the deceased, George Graveling, met his death from a dose of oxalic acid, but there was no evidence to show whether the fatal dose was administered by his own hand, or the hand of another person.'

This, of course, was practically an open verdict, and its tendency was to make the mystery more mysterious. It should be mentioned that amongst the general public there were not many who did not favour the suicide theory. In the minority, however, were numbered a few old and staunch friends of the deceased, who, feeling convinced that George Graveling was not the man to have taken his own life, instructed Tyler Tatlock to try and solve the problem. To these friends the circumstances of the tragedy called for a deeper and more crucial examination than the coroner's inquest had afforded. Tatlock himself had declined to express any open opinion at the time; but in a private letter he wrote to me after the verdict he referred casually to it in these words:

By the way, the verdict in the Graveling case couldn't have been other than it was, though I hear that the coroner himself and some of the jury favoured suicide. But Graveling did not commit suicide. He was murdered.'

It appeared that when Tatlock arrived in Flaxton, the village where the inquest was held, he lost no time in proceeding to the spot where the body was found. It was a wild, lonely, desolate region. If Graveling wanted to kill himself why did he go to such an out-of-the-way place? It was proved by the medical evidence that he could not have taken the poison first, and have walked to the pit afterwards, inasmuch as the effects of the dose would be to almost immediately paralyse the heart and brain.

Tatlock did not find much to help him, but an examination of the dead man's clothes, which he was permitted to make, revealed the fact that the soles of the boots worn by Graveling were clean; that is, they bore no trace of the black, loamy soil of the moor. Strangely enough, neither coroner, jury, nor witnesses attached much, if any, importance to this remarkable fact; but Tatlock did. The back of the deceased's coat was much stained with the boggy earth, but the front part of the clothes were not soiled in any way. Had he drunk the poison first, and staggered to the pit, he would in all human probability have pitched on to his face or knees, but there was no sign of his having done this. Another peculiar feature was that Tatlock could discover no trace of the deceased's footprints anywhere about the pit where he was found.

Tatlock did not visit the moor again until after the coroner's verdict. His second visit was unpremeditated. He had had some drawings made of the footprints, and he wished to verify some minor point. He descended into the hollow where the body had been found, without, as he himself says, any particular reason for so doing. When about to leave the place his attention was attracted to some-thing with a metallic lustre, half hidden in a tuft of heather. He picked it up, and to his astonishment found it was a small silver cream-jug, very much tarnished and discoloured, while the inside and the spout bore signs of having been corroded by acid. Had it not been for the established fact that the deceased had died from oxalic acid poison, this corrosion of the jug might have passed almost unnoticed, but under the circumstances it was a natural conclusion to come to that the jug had contained some or all of the fiery acid which had found its way into Mr. Graveling's stomach.

Needless to say, Tatlock considered this discovery as of great importance, and as likely to afford him a clue to the unravelling of the mystery. The jug, which was 'hall-marked' as silver, weighed about four ounces, and was of a very ordinary pattern. On the bottom the initials 'S. H.' had been roughly scratched—with the point of a knife probably.

For three months, in spite of many other calls upon his time and attention, Tatlock did not relax his vigilance or cease to exercise his talents in the Graveling case. He had all the tenacity of a barnacle. He clung to what he attached himself to, and could not be easily shaken off Nor did his vigilance in this case go unrewarded, for he made an important and startling discovery.

In one of the byeways of the city of York there was situated a shop where a fairly flourishing business was carried on in second-hand goods of a miscellaneous character. The interior of the shop was stuffed full of assorted lumber in keeping with the display in the window. Over the door a signboard set forth that the proprietrix of the shop was Selina Howells. One afternoon a man entered this shop—a seedy-looking little man, with a general woebegone, down-at-the-heel, empty-pocket appearance about him. He carried a bundle with him. A woman was busy behind the counter ticketing some goods that were to go into the window.

'What can I do for you, my man?' she asked, looking up as the stranger entered.

'I've got summat to sell, missus,' he answered as he produced an accordion.

'Anything else?' A few well-worn white shirts were displayed, and some electro-plated spoons and forks the worse for wear, and lastly a metal cream jug. The woman's attention was arrested by the latter article. She took it up quickly, carried it to the window, where there was a better light, flipped it with her finger-nail, examined it carefully inside and out, and, turning at last to the man, remarked—

'This is silver.'

'Is it?' he said in astonishment.

'Yes. What did you think it was?'

'Electro.'

'Where did you get it from?' she asked, eyeing him curiously.

'Found it.'

'Where did you find it?'

'On Flaxton Moor.'

The woman walked to the end of the shop, carrying the silver jug with her, opened a half-glazed door, and disappeared into a room, where a man was sitting smoking a pipe. She was absent quite ten minutes. When she returned to the shop she told the customer she would give him two pounds for the things.

'No, mum,' he answered decisively. 'If that jug's worth two pound to you it's worth that to me, and maybe more, and so I'll keep it.'

'Well, you're a fool; that's all I've got to say,' snapped the woman angrily, as she banged the article down on the counter before him. 'Why, it's not worth five shillings. It's been burnt inside with something, for one thing.'

'Missus,' said the man, eyeing her keenly as he took the jug up, 'if I can't get more'n that for it somewhere else I'll come back to you and you shall have it,' and with a brusque 'Good day' walked out of the shop.

About a week after this little incident two men entered Mrs. Selina Howells' shop, bent on much more serious business than that of either selling or buying. They inquired if her husband was at home, and on being answered in the affirmative they expressed a desire to see him. The lady was naturally curious to know what their errand was, and on their declining to enlighten her she said that under these circumstances they could not see him. On that one of the men went to the shop door and called in a third man, who was ordered to remain in the shop while the other two searched the house. Mrs. Howells stormed and raved, and seemed very indignant, describing the conduct of the men as an outrage, and demanding to know what it meant. She was told she would know in good time, and thereupon the two men went into the back room, and thence upstairs, the hour being eleven o'clock in the morning. They found Mr. Howells in bed, and they at once declared themselves as police officers, and showed him a warrant for his arrest on suspicion of his being concerned in the death of George Graveling, and they bade him dress himself.

Richard Howells was an enormous man between thirty and forty years of age. He stood six feet three, and had the muscles and power of a Hercules. When he recognised that he was trapped he sprang out of bed, and his whole manner seemed to indicate mischief, but one of the officers whipped a revolver from his pocket and said quietly—

'You had better dress yourself quickly, Mr. Howells.'

Mr. Howells thought better of his resolve, whatever it was, and sullenly and silently donned his clothes and made his toilet. It was very embarrassing to have to do so in the presence of strangers, but under the circumstances there was no avoiding it. As soon as he had finished one of the officers very adroitly handcuffed Mr. Howells, who looked furious, but who was helpless in spite of his great strength. He was then conducted downstairs to the shop, and Mrs. Howells was arrested on a warrant and on the same charge. Two servants, a cook and maid-of-all-work, named Jane Holcraft and Mary Prendergast respectively, were told to leave the premises at once, and the third man was temporarily placed in charge. The two officers and their prisoners then got into a four-wheeled cab which had been waiting in the street, and they were driven to the jail. Needless to say, perhaps, that the arrest of these people was due to Tyler Tatlock, and the way in which he tracked them down is a story in itself.

The initial point which gave Tatlock his clue was the clean soles of the dead man's boots. It was clear—at least, to Tatlock it seemed so—that the man never walked to the spot where his dead body was found. If such was the case, it followed that he must have been carried there, and who-ever carried him there necessarily had a strong motive for concealing his death. That was, so to speak, link number one.

Now for link number two. Mr. Graveling was well known. He was a conspicuous man, horsy in appearance, and carrying about with him the unmistakable air of his calling. Now, on the evening that he left his friends at the hotel in York on the plea that he had an appointment to keep previously to starting for the North, it was evident to such a mind as Tatlock's that the man was going to meet somebody outside of his particular ring of acquaintances, and that somebody in all probability was not of the masculine gender. Acting on this idea, Tatlock did search for the woman in York, but failed to find her.

Then as to link third. There are very, very few men indeed who have not some pages in their book of life they would like to tear out and destroy for ever and ever. But though that cannot be done, every care is taken to keep these pages from the eyes of the world. Tatlock therefore turned his attention to Graveling's past history, with the result that he learnt some curious facts. Years before, in a certain public-house in Glasgow patronised and frequented by betting men, was a very showy barmaid known as Agnes Lyal. She had an almost perfect figure, a good complexion, fair hair. For the rest, she was uneducated but intelligent, consumed with vanity, conceited and cheeky. Her employer considered her a great attraction to his place, and paid her well. Her admirers were numbered by dozens, from the stupid shop-lad to the hardened old Turfite. But Miss Agnes Lyal knew her game, and played it well. Amongst the frequenters of the place was one who looked with very admiring eyes on this bar Hebe, but from all his acquaintances he concealed his admiration, and while others fawned on her and flattered her, and she fooled them to the top of their bent, he silently and insidiously worked to win her, and he succeeded. A Scotch marriage took place, but he had his own reasons for concealing it, and for some time after-wards she continued her duties as barmaid. Then at her husband's request she took up her residence in Belfast, where he paid her periodical visits. It needed no prophet to predict that such an ill-assorted marriage could have but one ending. He was a man of considerable culture and refined tastes. She was coarse, uncultured, loud in her dress, fast in her manner. Within two years they mutually agreed to separate. Nevertheless, he recognised his obligation as the woman's husband, and made her a good allowance until on the most justifiable grounds he stopped it. It might be said that from that moment she became his implacable enemy.

The name of the man who married Agnes Lyal was George Graveling. By the way, Agnes Lyal was only an assumed name. Her real name was Selina Smith. At the time of her marriage her father was a convict, working out a long term of penal servitude at Dartmoor. Subsequently she allied herself with one Richard Howells, a powerful brute who had at one time been a prize-fighter, and ultimately they set up a second-hand store within the precincts of the city of York. On that fatal day when George Graveling disappeared from the ken of his friends, to be subsequently found stark and dead on Flaxton Moor, he had received an urgent message from his former wife, asking him for some reason or other to see her, and as he was still under her spell to some extent he went to her.

Step by step, cleverly and patiently, Tyler Tatlock traced the careers of Selina Smith and George Graveling down to that point. It was in Belfast he picked up the information that Selina was residing in York as Selina Howells. On the silver cream-jug he found on Flaxton Moor the initials S. H. were scratched on the bottom of the jug. They might have stood for lots of names be-ginning with S. and H., but, having regard to all the facts he had gathered up, he thought the jug might have belonged to Selina Howells, and so he visited her shop, and amongst other things offered the jug for sale. His deep-set eyes watched her the while, and he read her face like a book, and felt perfectly sure that she knew the secret of Graveling's death. Anyway, he laid such information before the police that they were enabled to procure a warrant for the arrest of the man and woman.

Firstly, it was absolutely certain that on the night of his death Graveling was at the Howells' house.

Secondly, it was no less certain he had died from the effects of oxalic acid.

Thirdly, oxalic acid was largely used by the Howells in their business for cleaning tarnished metals and other things.

Here at once was a chain of presumptive evidence which justified the warrant. The next step was to get up evidence to secure a conviction; and the evidence as given at the magisterial inquiry can be focussed thus:

Jane Holcraft had been in the service of the Howells for a little over a year as cook. On the date mentioned she remembered a gentleman coming to her master's house about eight o'clock at night. She did not see the gentleman herself, but she was ordered to cook some fish for supper, which she served at ten o'clock. She believed a good deal of drink was consumed, including champagne. She recognised the silver jug produced. It was one of a number of silver things belonging to her mistress. She had the cleaning of the silver, and had often cleaned the jug. She knew that oxalic acid was kept in the house, but she herself never used it.

Jerry Coghlan was a groom in the service of the Howells. He had two horses to look after and two traps, a dogcart, and a small waggonette. He had been with the Howells for a little over a year. On the date in question his master drove out in the dogcart, but returned about four o'clock. It was the day of the races. It had been raining, and the roads were very muddy. He washed the trap, groomed the horses, and bedded them both down before he left for the night. He did not sleep on the premises, as there was no accommodation, but lodged in the neighbourhood. He went to a music-hall that night with his young woman. The next morning when he went to the stables he was surprised to find that one of the horses had been out in the waggonette. The trap was very dirty, and so was the horse; in fact, it was covered with mud, which had caked on it. He noticed that in the apron of the waggonette there was a large hole. It had the appearance of having been corroded or burnt with some fluid. There was a similar burn and stain on one of the cushions of the trap. As he did not want to be blamed for this damage, he at once called his master's attention to it. Mr. Howells said that he had driven a friend to the station on the previous night, but he did not know what had caused the damage.

Mr. Andrew Weardale kept the Bell Inn at Market Weighton. He attended races all over the country, and was very well acquainted with Mr. George Graveling. On the day in question he was at the York races, and had several business transactions with Graveling, the result being that he gave him a cheque for twenty-nine pounds. It was a crossed cheque, payable to the order of George Graveling, and was drawn on the York branch of a Darlington bank. That cheque had never been cashed. He recognised the cheque now produced as the one he had given to Mr. Graveling.

This last piece of evidence added a powerful link to the chain of evidence. The cheque had been found amongst Howells' papers in his writing-desk.

The foregoing evidence was more than amply sufficient to justify both prisoners being committed for trial at the Assizes, and during the time that intervened more evidence was accumulated which left little doubt that on the night of Graveling's death the two prisoners drove in the waggonette towards Flaxton. There was a man with them, but he was either dead drunk or asleep.

At the trial the prisoners were powerfully defended, but the defence could not break down the prosecution, and both of the accused were condemned to death. The man remained a hardened ruffian; the woman broke down and became repentant, and the day before her execution she made a written confession. In it she stated she had written to Graveling asking him to see her. She had always retained a considerable amount of influence over him. It was Howells who suggested that he should be drugged and robbed. They plied him first with drink. Then they gave him a large dose of laudanum, after that they became frightened, as he looked so strange, and seemed to be dying. The consequence was that Howells put the horse to the waggonette. The insensible man was placed in it. Howells also took a phial of oxalic acid which was on the dining-room mantelpiece, and just as they were going out he snatched up the silver cream-jug from the sideboard, so as to get some water when they got to the moor, which Howells knew very well. He said that by mixing the acid with water the effect would be more rapid. As they drove along Howells took the phial from his pocket to see how much it contained, and in the dark, thinking he had made a mistake and brought a phial of spirits of wine, which was also on the sideboard, he took out the stopper to spell, and in doing so he spilt some of the acid on the apron and the cushion of the vehicle. On reaching the moor, Howells carried the semi-insensible man, who was then beginning to show signs of recovery, to the spot where he was found. He got some water in the jug, put the acid into it, and poured it down Graveling's throat. The victim was too dazed then to know what it was he was drinking. To lead to the belief that the man had committed suicide, in case his body should be found, the phial that had contained the poison was placed in his pocket. It was also decided to leave the Scotch bank-notes and the watch and chain upon him. The loose gold, however, was left by an oversight. In their excitement they forgot it.

Thus ended this remarkable tragedy, and it was due entirely to the sagacity, skill, and patience of Tyler Tatlock that the cruel murder of Mr. George Graveling was avenged.