Inspector French's Greatest Case (28 page)

and:

Here he saw at a glance that the same thing obtained, the pounds alone, and the pence and shillings added together, making two similar pairs, and therefore presumably standing for the same word.

This discovery restored all his eager interest. It seemed definitely to prove three things, each several one of which afforded him the liveliest satisfaction. First, these combinations of figures proved that there really was some underlying scheme, and that in its turn involved the hidden message; secondly, they showed that he, French, was on the direct road towards a solution and thirdly, they indicated a code or cipher built up of pairs of numbers, a frequent combination embracing many well-known varieties of cryptogram.

His next step was, therefore, to rewrite the list in dual column, the pounds in front, the pence and shillings added together behind. This gave him a new jumping-off place in the following:

On this he started his three men, making them try to work out keys on squares and parallelograms, as well as in other well-established ways. Then the pounds figure proving too large for this, he tried adding the various digits of these figures together. In this way, 328 became 3 + 2 + 8 or 13, and so he compiled a second list beginning:

But in spite of all his own and his men's efforts he was unable to find any clue to the key. They worked until long after the usual quitting time, and at length he had to agree to an adjournment for the night.

Next day he again attacked the problem, but it was not until well on in the afternoon that he made an advance. Tired and dispirited, he had sent for a cup of coffee to clear his brain, and after it he had, contrary to his custom, lighted his pipe, while he leaned comfortably back in his chair still turning the matter over in his mind. He was beginning to think the puzzle insoluble, when suddenly an idea flashed into his mind, and he sat up sharply, wondering if he had hit on the solution.

He had been considering numerical ciphers of which the key is some book. These consist usually of sets of three numbers, the first representing the page, the second the line on that page, and the third the word on that line. But he recognised that one of these latter numbers might be a constant, that is, that the word should always be on, say the fifth line of the page, or that it should be the first or second of the line. In this way the cipher could be worked with pairs of numbers. The difficulty in these cases was of course to find the book which each of the communicating parties used.

So far had he progressed when he got his great idea. Where had he seen a book which seemed strangely out of keeping with its fellows? Of course! That was it at last! The
Concise Oxford Dictionary
in Mrs. Vane's sitting-room!

As he thought over this he felt more and more certain that he had reached the explanation. Not only was there the fact of the book being there, but a dictionary was obviously not only the kind of book best suited for the purpose, but also that best suited for a dual number system. The first number would represent the page and the second the word on that page. The idea, further, was confirmed by the fact that while the figure for the pounds—or pages—ran from 1 to about 1000, that for the shillings and pence—or words on the page—never rose above 30. There was no doubt, French thought, that he had got it at last.

At Scotland Yard all things are procurable at short notice. He rang up a subordinate and gave urgent instructions that a
Concise Oxford Dictionary
was to be obtained immediately and sent up to him.

Five minutes later he was eagerly turning over the leaves. It took but a second or two to find page 328, and another second to count down to the sixth word. It was “French.”

Without waiting to consider whether this might refer to himself, in which case he had found the solution, or merely be a coincidence, in which case he hadn't, he hastily went on to the next number. Page 568, word 5, was “On.”

“French on.” Still it might make sense or it might not. He looked up No. 3.

The fourth word on the 1039th page was “Your.” “French on your” was going all right, but when he turned up No. 4 and found that the ninth word on page 936 was “Track,” all doubt was at an end. “French on your track.” He had got it with a vengeance!

The remaining words came easily until he came to number 17, Atlas Assurance £922 4s. 5d. The ninth word on page 922 did not make sense. But he had gone so far that this further problem could not long hold him up. After a very few seconds he saw that if he added the shillings and pence of the following line—which showed no figure in the pounds column—to those of the £922, he found the word he wanted. It simply meant that there were more than thirty words preceding that in question on that page of the dictionary. 19 and 11, or 30, was the largest number one line of shillings and pence would show, therefore a larger number than 30 required two lines of shillings and pence to one of pounds. The word “telegrams” had evidently been written as a blind, and he soon saw that the item “balance” was wanted for a similar purpose. After this a few minutes sufficed to turn up all the words, and presently he sat back and looked at the completed result of his work.

 

“French on your track rendezvous victory hotel lee d s if I fail take your ticket boat leave s on twenty six t h.”

 

This as it stood was clear, but he rewrote it, putting in stops and capitals, and joining the broken words.

 

“French on your track. Rendezvous Victory Hotel, Leeds. If I fail take your own ticket. Boat leaves on twenty-sixth.”

 

So they were trying to escape by sea, Mrs. Vane and the person who had sent her the warning! Who that person was, French had but little doubt. Almost certainly it was Mr. Vane, and if so, it seemed to him also beyond reasonable doubt that Mr. Vane was the murderer. At all events, whether or not, the person who had sent cipher directions to Mrs. Vane regarding their joint flight was the person he wanted. He chuckled to himself as he thought that he would soon know all about it now. He would soon find the boat they were sailing in, and then he would have them in the hollow of his hand.

But would he? As his eye fell on the almanac hanging above the chimney-piece he swore. Inexorably it reminded him that this was the twenty-sixth. The steamer had left on that very day!

But be that as it might, his procedure was clear. He must find the boat. For a moment he sat considering ways and means, and then his attention was attracted to the wording of the last phrase of the message: “Boat leaves on twenty-sixth.” This surely suggested a clue—that the service was other than daily. Had the latter obtained, the phrase would have been, “Take next Thursday's boat,” or words to that effect. If his deduction was correct, it meant that the steamer was a seagoing ship, not merely a cross-Channel packet. This view, moreover, was to some extent supported by the probability that the fugitives would almost certainly make for a distant rather than an adjacent country.

From where, then, in the neighbourhood of Leeds, did steamers start to distant lands? Liverpool was, of course, the obvious answer, but it need not necessarily be Liverpool. From Hull and Grimsby, or even Manchester and Goole, ships left for foreign ports. It would be necessary to make a list of all the ocean-going steamers which left all the ports near Leeds on the current date.

Late though it was, French stuck to his task. A study of the shipping news revealed the fact that seven steamers were booked to leave Liverpool and Hull and the ports adjoining. From Liverpool there was a White Star liner to Boston and Philadelphia, a Lamport & Holt boat to Buenos Aires and Rosario, a Booth liner to Para and Manáos, and a Bibby liner to Egypt, Colombo and Rangoon. From Hull, a Finland liner sailed to Helsingfors and a Wilson boat to Copenhagen, while another Wilson liner left Grimsby for Christiansand. Besides these, there were doubtless numbers of cargo boats, some of which might take passengers, but these were the only regular liners, and French determined to try them first.

He called up the head office of each of the lines in question and asked had any person named Vane booked passages on their ships leaving on that day, and if not, could they tell him if a couple answering the description which he gave had done so. There was a considerable delay in getting replies, but when he received that from the Booth Line he did not grudge the loss of time. It stated that a Mr. and Mrs. Vane, of Crewe Lodge, St. John's Wood Road, had booked passages to Manáos by the
Enoch
, which left Liverpool at 3.00 p.m. that afternoon; further, these persons had gone on board at Liverpool, and as far as the head office knew, had actually sailed.

French was a trifle hazy about the Booth Line. He knew that Manáos was in South America—Brazil, he imagined, but whether the steamer sailed there direct or made intermediate calls at which it might be overtaken and at which an arrest might be made, he did not know.

He telephoned to have the information sent up to him. “The last lap!” he thought contentedly, as he pictured the arrival of the steamer at Manáos and the descent of the fugitives on to the wharf into the clutches of the waiting police. And for him it would mean not only the completion of a peculiarly worrying and difficult case, but undoubted kudos, if not actual promotion.

In the vast organisation of Scotland Yard the indexing of information on every available subject has been brought to something more than a fine art. If French had wished to know the number of inhabitants of Prague, the favourite recreations of the Elder Brethren of Trinity House, or the width of the Ganges at Allahabad, some notes or books of reference would immediately have been forthcoming which would have fully supplied the desired information. How much more when the question was merely one of trains and steamers. He had not long to wait for an answer to his telephone, and this revealed the fact that the Booth liner
Enoch
, which had left Liverpool on the previous afternoon, called at Havre, Oporto, Lisbon, Madeira, and Para, before completing her voyage to Manáos by a sail of a thousand miles up the Amazon. Moreover, she awaited at Havre the arrival of the Southampton boat, the connection of which left Waterloo at 9.30 on the night of the 27th.

“To-night!” French thought as he hastily glanced at his watch. It was just 8.42.
What
a stroke of luck! He would travel by it, and with any reasonable good fortune he would have these Vanes safe in his clutches before another dozen hours had passed.

As a man of action French was unsurpassed. Within five minutes he had called an assistant, a keen, efficient young sergeant named Carter, and instructed him to join him that night on the 9.30 Continental train from Waterloo, had sent another keen, efficient helper posthaste to have extradition warrants and other necessaries sent to the same train, and had rung up for a taxi to take him home to tell his wife of his change of plan and to put two of three things together for the journey. In short, thanks to his energy, the hands of the Waterloo station clock had scarcely reached 9.25 when he and Sergeant Carter reached the platform from which the boat train was about to start. Awaiting them was Manning, the other keen and efficient assistant, who handed over warrants for the arrest and extradition of Mr. and Mrs. Vane, passports, English and French money, as well as an introduction to the French police at Havre.

“Good, Manning! That's all right,” French approved as he took over the munitions of war. In another couple of minutes the train drew slowly out of the station, and increasing its speed as it passed the myriad lights of South London, was soon roaring through the darkness of the open country beyond.

Fortunately, the night was calm and the boat was not crowded, so that the detectives were able to get berths and a sleep to prepare them for their toils on the following day. They reached Havre on time, and jumping into a taxi were driven to the berth of the
Enoch
, which was some distance down the docks. French hurried on board and asked to see the Captain, while Carter remained at the gangway lest the quarry, seeing French and knowing his appearance, might take fright and attempt to slip ashore.

Captain Davis saw French immediately.

“Sit down, Mr. French,” he said pleasantly when he had examined the other's credentials, “and let me know what I can do for you.”

French took the proffered seat as he drew from his pocket Mrs. Vane's photograph as well as her description and that of her husband.

“I'll tell you, Captain,” he answered. “I'm after a man and woman who are wanted for murder and robbery. They call themselves Mr. and Mrs. Vane, though I don't know if this is their real name or even, if they are married. I have learned that they booked with you from Liverpool to Manáos, but I only found that out last night, so I came over by Southampton in the hope of making an arrest. There,” he passed over his photograph and papers, “are the descriptions.”

The Captain glanced at him as he took the papers. He did not speak until he had looked through the latter, then he said gravely:

“I'm afraid, Mr. French, they've been one too many for you this time. A Mr. and Mrs. Vane did book passages and even came on board at Liverpool, but they left the ship almost immediately and didn't turn up again. I assumed that some accident had prevented their return, and that they would follow by Southampton as you did, but from what you tell me it looks as if they had learned you were on their track and made a bolt for it. But we had better see the purser. He will tell us details.”