MARTIN HEWITT, INVESTIGATOR.

By
Arthur Morrison


1894




CONTENTS.


I. THE LENTON CROFT ROBBERIES

II. THE LOSS OF SAMMY CROCKETT

III. THE CASE OF MR. FOGGATT

IV. THE CASE OF THE DIXON TORPEDO

V. THE QUINTON JEWEL AFFAIR

VI. THE STANWAY CAMEO MYSTERY

VII. THE AFFAIR OF THE TORTOISE




MARTIN HEWITT, INVESTIGATOR.




I.


THE LENTON CROFT ROBBERIES.

Those who retain any memory of the great law cases of fifteen or twenty
years back will remember, at least, the title of that extraordinary will
case, "Bartley _v_. Bartley and others," which occupied the Probate Court
for some weeks on end, and caused an amount of public interest rarely
accorded to any but the cases considered in the other division of the same
court. The case itself was noted for the large quantity of remarkable and
unusual evidence presented by the plaintiff's side--evidence that took the
other party completely by surprise, and overthrew their case like a house
of cards. The affair will, perhaps, be more readily recalled as the
occasion of the sudden rise to eminence in their profession of Messrs.
Crellan, Hunt & Crellan, solicitors for the plaintiff--a result due
entirely to the wonderful ability shown in this case of building up,
apparently out of nothing, a smashing weight of irresistible evidence.
That the firm has since maintained--indeed enhanced--the position it then
won for itself need scarcely be said here; its name is familiar to
everybody. But there are not many of the outside public who know that the
credit of the whole performance was primarily due to a young clerk in the
employ of Messrs. Crellan, who had been given charge of the seemingly
desperate task of collecting evidence in the case.

This Mr. Martin Hewitt had, however, full credit and reward for his
exploit from his firm and from their client, and more than one other firm
of lawyers engaged in contentious work made good offers to entice Hewitt
to change his employers. Instead of this, however, he determined to work
independently for the future, having conceived the idea of making a
regular business of doing, on behalf of such clients as might retain him,
similar work to that he had just done with such conspicuous success for
Messrs. Crellan, Hunt & Crellan. This was the beginning of the private
detective business of Martin Hewitt, and his action at that time has been
completely justified by the brilliant professional successes he has since
achieved.

His business has always been conducted in the most private manner, and he
has always declined the help of professional assistants, preferring to
carry out himself such of the many investigations offered him as he could
manage. He has always maintained that he has never lost by this policy,
since the chance of his refusing a case begets competition for his
services, and his fees rise by a natural process. At the same time, no man
could know better how to employ casual assistance at the right time.

Some curiosity has been expressed as to Mr. Martin Hewitt's system, and,
as he himself always consistently maintains that he has no system beyond a
judicious use of ordinary faculties, I intend setting forth in detail a
few of the more interesting of his cases in order that the public may
judge for itself if I am right in estimating Mr. Hewitt's "ordinary
faculties" as faculties very extraordinary indeed. He is not a man who has
made many friendships (this, probably, for professional reasons),
notwithstanding his genial and companionable manners. I myself first made
his acquaintance as a result of an accident resulting in a fire at the old
house in which Hewitt's office was situated, and in an upper floor of
which I occupied bachelor chambers. I was able to help in saving a
quantity of extremely important papers relating to his business, and,
while repairs were being made, allowed him to lock them in an old
wall-safe in one of my rooms which the fire had scarcely damaged.

The acquaintance thus begun has lasted many years, and has become a rather
close friendship. I have even accompanied Hewitt on some of his
expeditions, and, in a humble way, helped him. Such of the cases, however,
as I personally saw nothing of I have put into narrative form from the
particulars given me.

"I consider you, Brett," he said, addressing me, "the most remarkable
journalist alive. Not because you're particularly clever, you know,
because, between ourselves, I hope you'll admit you're not; but because
you have known something of me and my doings for some years, and have
never yet been guilty of giving away any of my little business secrets you
may have become acquainted with. I'm afraid you're not so enterprising a
journalist as some, Brett. But now, since you ask, you shall write
something--if you think it worth while."

This he said, as he said most things, with a cheery, chaffing good-nature
that would have been, perhaps, surprising to a stranger who thought of him
only as a grim and mysterious discoverer of secrets and crimes. Indeed,
the man had always as little of the aspect of the conventional detective
as may be imagined. Nobody could appear more cordial or less observant in
manner, although there was to be seen a certain sharpness of the
eye--which might, after all, only be the twinkle of good humor.

I _did_ think it worth while to write something of Martin Hewitt's
investigations, and a description of one of his adventures follows.

       *       *       *       *       *

At the head of the first flight of a dingy staircase leading up from an
ever-open portal in a street by the Strand stood a door, the dusty
ground-glass upper panel of which carried in its center the single word
"Hewitt," while at its right-hand lower corner, in smaller letters,
"Clerk's Office" appeared. On a morning when the clerks in the
ground-floor offices had barely hung up their hats, a short, well-dressed
young man, wearing spectacles, hastening to open the dusty door, ran into
the arms of another man who suddenly issued from it.

"I beg pardon," the first said. "Is this Hewitt's Detective Agency
Office?"

"Yes, I believe you will find it so," the other replied. He was a
stoutish, clean-shaven man, of middle height, and of a cheerful, round
countenance. "You'd better speak to the clerk."

In the little outer office the visitor was met by a sharp lad with inky
fingers, who presented him with a pen and a printed slip. The printed slip
having been filled with the visitor's name and present business, and
conveyed through an inner door, the lad reappeared with an invitation to
the private office. There, behind a writing-table, sat the stoutish man
himself, who had only just advised an appeal to the clerk.

"Good-morning, Mr. Lloyd--Mr. Vernon Lloyd," he said, affably, looking
again at the slip. "You'll excuse my care to start even with my
visitors--I must, you know. You come from Sir James Norris, I see."

"Yes; I am his secretary. I have only to ask you to go straight to Lenton
Croft at once, if you can, on very important business. Sir James would
have wired, but had not your precise address. Can you go by the next
train? Eleven-thirty is the first available from Paddington."

"Quite possibly. Do you know any thing of the business?"

"It is a case of a robbery in the house, or, rather, I fancy, of several
robberies. Jewelry has been stolen from rooms occupied by visitors to the
Croft. The first case occurred some months ago--nearly a year ago, in
fact. Last night there was another. But I think you had better get the
details on the spot. Sir James has told me to telegraph if you are coming,
so that he may meet you himself at the station; and I must hurry, as his
drive to the station will be rather a long one. Then I take it you will
go, Mr. Hewitt? Twyford is the station."

"Yes, I shall come, and by the 11.30. Are you going by that train
yourself?"

"No, I have several things to attend to now I am in town. Good-morning; I
shall wire at once."

Mr. Martin Hewitt locked the drawer of his table and sent his clerk for a
cab.

At Twyford Station Sir James Norris was waiting with a dog-cart. Sir James
was a tall, florid man of fifty or thereabout, known away from home as
something of a county historian, and nearer his own parts as a great
supporter of the hunt, and a gentleman much troubled with poachers. As
soon as he and Hewitt had found one another the baronet hurried the
detective into his dog-cart. "We've something over seven miles to drive,"
he said, "and I can tell you all about this wretched business as we go.
That is why I came for you myself, and alone."

Hewitt nodded.

"I have sent for you, as Lloyd probably told you, because of a robbery at
my place last evening. It appears, as far as I can guess, to be one of
three by the same hand, or by the same gang. Late yesterday afternoon----"

"Pardon me, Sir James," Hewitt interrupted, "but I think I must ask you to
begin at the first robbery and tell me the whole tale in proper order. It
makes things clearer, and sets them in their proper shape."

"Very well! Eleven months ago, or thereabout, I had rather a large party
of visitors, and among them Colonel Heath and Mrs. Heath--the lady being a
relative of my own late wife. Colonel Heath has not been long retired, you
know--used to be political resident in an Indian native state. Mrs. Heath
had rather a good stock of jewelry of one sort and another, about the most
valuable piece being a bracelet set with a particularly fine pearl--quite
an exceptional pearl, in fact--that had been one of a heap of presents
from the maharajah of his state when Heath left India.

"It was a very noticeable bracelet, the gold setting being a mere
feather-weight piece of native filigree work--almost too fragile to trust
on the wrist--and the pearl being, as I have said, of a size and quality
not often seen. Well, Heath and his wife arrived late one evening, and
after lunch the following day, most of the men being off by
themselves--shooting, I think--my daughter, my sister (who is very often
down here), and Mrs. Heath took it into their heads to go
walking--fern-hunting, and so on. My sister was rather long dressing, and,
while they waited, my daughter went into Mrs. Heath's room, where Mrs.
Heath turned over all her treasures to show her, as women do, you know.
When my sister was at last ready, they came straight away, leaving the
things littering about the room rather than stay longer to pack them up.
The bracelet, with other things, was on the dressing-table then."

"One moment. As to the door?"

"They locked it. As they came away my daughter suggested turning the key,
as we had one or two new servants about."

"And the window?"

"That they left open, as I was going to tell you. Well, they went on their
walk and came back, with Lloyd (whom they had met somewhere) carrying
their ferns for them. It was dusk and almost dinner-time. Mrs. Heath went
straight to her room, and--the bracelet was gone."

"Was the room disturbed?"

"Not a bit. Everything was precisely where it had been left, except the
bracelet. The door hadn't been tampered with, but of course the window was
open, as I have told you."

"You called the police, of course?"

"Yes, and had a man from Scotland Yard down in the morning. He seemed a
pretty smart fellow, and the first thing he noticed on the dressing-table,
within an inch or two of where the bracelet had been, was a match, which
had been lit and thrown down. Now nobody about the house had had occasion
to use a match in that room that day, and, if they had, certainly wouldn't
have thrown it on the cover of the dressing-table. So that, presuming the
thief to have used that match, the robbery must have been committed when
the room was getting dark--immediately before Mrs. Heath returned, in
fact. The thief had evidently struck the match, passed it hurriedly over
the various trinkets lying about, and taken the most valuable."

"Nothing else was even moved?"

"Nothing at all. Then the thief must have escaped by the window, although
it was not quite clear how. The walking party approached the house with a
full view of the window, but saw nothing, although the robbery must have
been actually taking place a moment or two before they turned up.

"There was no water-pipe within any practicable distance of the window,
but a ladder usually kept in the stable-yard was found lying along the
edge of the lawn. The gardener explained, however, that he had put the
ladder there after using it himself early in the afternoon."

"Of course it might easily have been used again after that and put back."

"Just what the Scotland Yard man said. He was pretty sharp, too, on the
gardener, but very soon decided that he knew nothing of it. No stranger
had been seen in the neighborhood, nor had passed the lodge gates.
Besides, as the detective said, it scarcely seemed the work of a stranger.
A stranger could scarcely have known enough to go straight to the room
where a lady--only arrived the day before--had left a valuable jewel, and
away again without being seen. So all the people about the house were
suspected in turn. The servants offered, in a body, to have their boxes
searched, and this was done; everything was turned over, from the butler's
to the new kitchen-maid's. I don't know that I should have had this
carried quite so far if I had been the loser myself, but it was my guest,
and I was in such a horrible position. Well, there's little more to be
said about that, unfortunately. Nothing came of it all, and the thing's as
great a mystery now as ever. I believe the Scotland Yard man got as far as
suspecting _me_ before he gave it up altogether, but give it up he did in
the end. I think that's all I know about the first robbery. Is it clear?"

"Oh, yes; I shall probably want to ask a few questions when I have seen
the place, but they can wait. What next?"

"Well," Sir James pursued, "the next was a very trumpery affair, that I
should have forgotten all about, probably, if it hadn't been for one
circumstance. Even now I hardly think it could have been the work of the
same hand. Four months or thereabout after Mrs. Heath's disaster--in
February of this year, in fact--Mrs. Armitage, a young widow, who had been
a school-fellow of my daughter's, stayed with us for a week or so. The
girls don't trouble about the London season, you know, and I have no town
house, so they were glad to have their old friend here for a little in the
dull time. Mrs. Armitage is a very active young lady, and was scarcely in
the house half an hour before she arranged a drive in a pony-cart with
Eva--my daughter--to look up old people in the village that she used to
know before she was married. So they set off in the afternoon, and made
such a round of it that they were late for dinner. Mrs. Armitage had a
small plain gold brooch--not at all valuable, you know; two or three
pounds, I suppose--which she used to pin up a cloak or anything of that
sort. Before she went out she stuck this in the pin-cushion on her
dressing-table, and left a ring--rather a good one, I believe--lying close
by."

"This," asked Hewitt, "was not in the room that Mrs. Heath had occupied, I
take it?"

"No; this was in another part of the building. Well, the brooch
went--taken, evidently, by some one in a deuce of a hurry, for, when Mrs.
Armitage got back to her room, there was the pin-cushion with a little
tear in it, where the brooch had been simply snatched off. But the curious
thing was that the ring--worth a dozen of the brooch--was left where it
had been put. Mrs. Armitage didn't remember whether or not she had locked
the door herself, although she found it locked when she returned; but my
niece, who was indoors all the time, went and tried it once--because she
remembered that a gas-fitter was at work on the landing near by--and found
it safely locked. The gas-fitter, whom we didn't know at the time, but who
since seems to be quite an honest fellow, was ready to swear that nobody
but my niece had been to the door while he was in sight of it--which was
almost all the time. As to the window, the sash-line had broken that very
morning, and Mrs. Armitage had propped open the bottom half about eight or
ten inches with a brush; and, when she returned, that brush, sash, and all
were exactly as she had left them. Now I scarcely need tell _you_ what an
awkward job it must have been for anybody to get noiselessly in at that
unsupported window; and how unlikely he would have been to replace it,
with the brush, exactly as he found it."

"Just so. I suppose the brooch, was really gone? I mean, there was no
chance of Mrs. Armitage having mislaid it?"

"Oh, none at all! There was a most careful search."

"Then, as to getting in at the window, would it have been easy?"

"Well, yes," Sir James replied; "yes, perhaps it would. It was a
first-floor window, and it looks over the roof and skylight of the
billiard-room. I built the billiard-room myself--built it out from a
smoking-room just at this corner. It would be easy enough to get at the
window from the billiard-room roof. But, then," he added, "that couldn't
have been the way. Somebody or other was in the billiard-room the whole
time, and nobody could have got over the roof (which is nearly all
skylight) without being seen and heard. I was there myself for an hour or
two, taking a little practice."

"Well, was anything done?"

"Strict inquiry was made among the servants, of course, but nothing came
of it. It was such a small matter that Mrs. Armitage wouldn't hear of my
calling in the police or anything of that sort, although I felt pretty
certain that there must be a dishonest servant about somewhere. A servant
might take a plain brooch, you know, who would feel afraid of a valuable
ring, the loss of which would be made a greater matter of."

"Well, yes, perhaps so, in the case of an inexperienced thief, who also
would be likely to snatch up whatever she took in a hurry. But I'm
doubtful. What made you connect these two robberies together?"

"Nothing whatever--for some months. They seemed quite of a different sort.
But scarcely more than a month ago I met Mrs. Armitage at Brighton, and we
talked, among other things, of the previous robbery--that of Mrs. Heath's
bracelet. I described the circumstances pretty minutely, and, when I
mentioned the match found on the table, she said: 'How strange! Why, _my_
thief left a match on the dressing-table when he took my poor little
brooch!'"

Hewitt nodded. "Yes," he said. "A spent match, of course?"

"Yes, of course, a spent match. She noticed it lying close by the
pin-cushion, but threw it away without mentioning the circumstance. Still,
it seemed rather curious to me that a match should be lit and dropped, in
each case, on the dressing-cover an inch from where the article was taken.
I mentioned it to Lloyd when I got back, and he agreed that it seemed
significant."

"Scarcely," said Hewitt, shaking his head. "Scarcely, so far, to be called
significant, although worth following up. Everybody uses matches in the
dark, you know."

"Well, at any rate, the coincidence appealed to me so far that it struck
me it might be worth while to describe the brooch to the police in order
that they could trace it if it had been pawned. They had tried that, of
course, over the bracelet without any result, but I fancied the shot might
be worth making, and might possibly lead us on the track of the more
serious robbery."

"Quite so. It was the right thing to do. Well?"

"Well, they found it. A woman had pawned it in London--at a shop in
Chelsea. But that was some time before, and the pawnbroker had clean
forgotten all about the woman's appearance. The name and address she gave
were false. So that was the end of that business."

"Had any of the servants left you between the time the brooch was lost and
the date of the pawn ticket?"

"No."

"Were all your servants at home on the day the brooch was pawned?"

"Oh, yes! I made that inquiry myself."

"Very good! What next?"

"Yesterday--and this is what made me send for you. My late wife's sister
came here last Tuesday, and we gave her the room from which Mrs. Heath
lost her bracelet. She had with her a very old-fashioned brooch,
containing a miniature of her father, and set in front with three very
fine brilliants and a few smaller stones. Here we are, though, at the
Croft. I'll tell you the rest indoors."

Hewitt laid his hand on the baronet's arm. "Don't pull up, Sir James," he
said. "Drive a little farther. I should like to have a general idea of the
whole case before we go in."

"Very good!" Sir James Norris straightened the horse's head again and went
on. "Late yesterday afternoon, as my sister-in-law was changing her dress,
she left her room for a moment to speak to my daughter in her room, almost
adjoining. She was gone no more than three minutes, or five at most, but
on her return the brooch, which had been left on the table, had gone. Now
the window was shut fast, and had not been tampered with. Of course the
door was open, but so was my daughter's, and anybody walking near must
have been heard. But the strangest circumstance, and one that almost makes
me wonder whether I have been awake to-day or not, was that there lay _a
used match_ on the very spot, as nearly as possible, where the brooch had
been--and it was broad daylight!"

Hewitt rubbed his nose and looked thoughtfully before him. "Um--curious,
certainly," he said, "Anything else?"

"Nothing more than you shall see for yourself. I have had the room locked
and watched till you could examine it. My sister-in-law had heard of your
name, and suggested that you should be called in; so, of course, I did
exactly as she wanted. That she should have lost that brooch, of all
things, in my house is most unfortunate; you see, there was some small
difference about the thing between my late wife and her sister when their
mother died and left it. It's almost worse than the Heaths' bracelet
business, and altogether I'm not pleased with things, I can assure you.
See what a position it is for me! Here are three ladies, in the space of
one year, robbed one after another in this mysterious fashion in my house,
and I can't find the thief! It's horrible! People will be afraid to come
near the place. And I can do nothing!"

"Ah, well, we'll see. Perhaps we had better turn back now. By-the-by, were
you thinking of having any alterations or additions made to your house?"

"No. What makes you ask?"

"I think you might at least consider the question of painting and
decorating, Sir James--or, say, putting up another coach-house, or
something. Because I should like to be (to the servants) the architect--or
the builder, if you please--come to look around. You haven't told any of
them about this business?"

"Not a word. Nobody knows but my relatives and Lloyd. I took every
precaution myself, at once. As to your little disguise, be the architect
by all means, and do as you please. If you can only find this thief and
put an end to this horrible state of affairs, you'll do me the greatest
service I've ever asked for--and as to your fee, I'll gladly make it
whatever is usual, and three hundred in addition."

Martin Hewitt bowed. "You're very generous, Sir James, and you may be sure
I'll do what I can. As a professional man, of course, a good fee always
stimulates my interest, although this case of yours certainly seems
interesting enough by itself."

"Most extraordinary! Don't you think so? Here are three persons, all
ladies, all in my house, two even in the same room, each successively
robbed of a piece of jewelry, each from a dressing-table, and a used match
left behind in every case. All in the most difficult--one would say
impossible--circumstances for a thief, and yet there is no clue!"

"Well, we won't say that just yet, Sir James; we must see. And we must
guard against any undue predisposition to consider the robberies in a
lump. Here we are at the lodge gate again. Is that your gardener--the man
who left the ladder by the lawn on the first occasion you spoke of?"

Mr. Hewitt nodded in the direction of a man who was clipping a box border.

"Yes; will you ask him anything?"

"No, no; at any rate, not now. Remember the building alterations. I think,
if there is no objection, I will look first at the room that the
lady--Mrs.----" Hewitt looked up, inquiringly.

"My sister-in-law? Mrs. Cazenove. Oh, yes! you shall come to her room at
once."

"Thank you. And I think Mrs. Cazenove had better be there."

They alighted, and a boy from the lodge led the horse and dog-cart away.

Mrs. Cazenove was a thin and faded, but quick and energetic, lady of
middle age. She bent her head very slightly on learning Martin Hewitt's
name, and said: "I must thank you, Mr. Hewitt, for your very prompt
attention. I need scarcely say that any help you can afford in tracing the
thief who has my property--whoever it may be--will make me most grateful.
My room is quite ready for you to examine."

The room was on the second floor--the top floor at that part of the
building. Some slight confusion of small articles of dress was observable
in parts of the room.

