Читать книгу Blood on His Hands - Max Afford - Страница 8

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Seated by the desk in the inner apartment of the late Judge Sheldon's suite, Chief Inspector William Read and Mr. Jeffery Blackburn were enjoying a tasty lunch and continuing their investigation by examining the contents of the dead man's pockets.

Read handled the late Judge's possessions while Jeffery, a sandwich in one hand, a fountain-pen in the other, jotted each item down on paper. At length, as the Inspector paused in his enumerating, the young man laid down his pen. "Is that all?" he asked.

His companion nodded. "Just check them over with me, son."

Jeffery laid down his sandwich, swallowed a final morsel, and read slowly:

"One tobacco-pouch.

One pipe-case,

One matchbox in silver case,

One long envelope containing packet of treasury-notes,

Twenty-five shillings in loose change,

Two handkerchiefs,

One gold watch and chain,

Gold pen and pencil,

Spectacle-case with spectacles,

One leather wallet containing:

Folded newspaper-cutting,

Two stubs theatre-tickets,

Business cards,

Three private letters,

Banknotes,

Motor-car licence."

He glanced up. "Is that all right?"

Read sat back. "Right as a bank!" He picked up a cream cake and sank his teeth into it. "Wonder if there's anything in that little lot to help us?"

"If so, it will be in the wallet," Blackburn opined.

"Personally, I'm more interested in this packet of money." Read took up the envelope and began counting the notes. He spoke after a pause. "There's two hundred pounds here, son. That seems to clinch the theory that robbery was not the motive. But why should the Judge carry that sum about with him?"

Jeffery shook his head. The Inspector replaced the packet of banknotes on the desk and took up the newspaper-cutting. He unfolded it—a slip of newsprint some six inches long. His eyes swept it casually, then more closely. Reading, he gave a sudden ejaculation.

"Great Scott!"

Blackburn looked surprised. "What's wrong?"

The elder man did not reply for a moment. He was re-reading the cutting. He raised his eyes and passed the printed slip to his companion. "Read this," he invited. "It's either the long arm of coincidence or something deeper."

Jeffery took the cutting and read it carefully. There was no date on the print. The story began with the headlines:

BACK FROM THE DEAD!

STRANGE STORY OF WAR SURVIVOR.

Here on Mission Work

(By Dyke Wilkinson, Special Correspondent)

To be erroneously reported dead in the war, only to return safely and lose his memory in an air-raid upon London, was the experience of a passenger on the "Cornwall," which berthed at Port Melbourne to-day. His name is James Alfred Torrance, and he is travelling to Australia to inaugurate a Gospel Tent Mission in this city.

Mr. Torrance's experience dates back to the early days of the war. He is an Australian and was among the first to enlist. In December of 1914, a mistake in identification-discs occurred and he was reported dead.

In reality, Mr. Torrance was among those scheduled for early leave in London. While in that city, he was seeking shelter from an air-raid when a bomb exploded near him. The shock caused a complete loss of memory, followed by a nervous breakdown. He spent three years in hospital, during which time he partly recovered. When released, he could not remember his name nor recall any recollection of friends or family. He adopted the name of Torrance and obtained work at the King Alfred Hospital, where he worked until six months ago.

It was about this time when Mr. Torrance was fortunate to win £2000 in a newspaper contest. At first he refused to take the money, since the competition was in the nature of a lottery. He determined, however, to resign from his position and spend the money financing a Gospel Tent Mission that would tour Victoria through the Centenary Celebrations.

While in Australia, Mr. Torrance hopes to meet and talk with friends who may help him in regaining his lost memory. He will disembark at Sydney, from which capital he will set out with his Tent Mission.

Blackburn raised his eyes. "Well?" he inquired.

The Inspector spoke slowly. "I wonder whether Mr. Torrance could possibly locate his relatives in this city."

The young man tossed the cutting on the desk. He rose to his feet. "Meaning Miss Sheldon's story about her father?" He shook his head. "That seems rather like twisting the arm of coincidence clean off!"

"When you've been in this game as long as I have," Read told him, with a frown, "you'll come to depend on coincidences." He thrust out a finger at Jeffery. "If this missioner hasn't anything to do with the case, why should Sheldon keep that cutting?" As Blackburn shrugged his shoulders, the other man made an impatient movement. "Wonder where we could locate this Torrance? He'd surely be able to tell us something."

Blackburn was forming the crumbs on the desk-top into neat little heaps. Without looking up, he said: "If you're so persistent in third degree methods, the opportunity is to hand: Torrance's Gospel Tent arrived in Melbourne two weeks ago."

Read jumped to his feet. "The deuce!" he exclaimed. "Do you know the address?"

"It's in the newspapers every day. I suggest you send one of your minions to the stall in the foyer."

Already Read was half-way across the apartment and calling to the constable on duty at the door. Within a few minutes the man returned with the daily. Spreading it on the desk, the two investigators flicked the pages Until they found the advertisement. Read straightened with a satisfied grunt and rubbed his hands. "We can be there in ten minutes!" he announced. Recalling the constable from the door, he barked out a quick succession of orders.