British Mystery Classics - Arthur Morrison Edition (Illustrated). Morrison Arthur

afterward he left, and as he was leaving a man knocked at the cabin door and looked in to say that Mr. Brasyer was on board. “You’ll be able to have a go at him now,” said the captain. “Good-day.”

      “There’s the steward of the Nicobar there too, sir,” said the man after the captain had gone, “and the carpenter.”

      “Very well, we’ll see Mr. Brasyer first,” said Merrick, and the man vanished. “It seems to have got about a bit,” Merrick went on to Hewitt. “I only sent for Brasyer, but as these others have come, perhaps they’ve got something to tell us.”

      Brasyer made his appearance, overflowing with information. He required little assurance to encourage him to speak openly before Hewitt, and he said again all he had so often said before on board the Nicobar. The bullion-room was a mere tin box, the whole thing was as easy to get at as anything could be, he didn’t wonder in the least at the loss — he had prophesied it all along.

      The men whose movements should be carefully watched, he said, were the captain and the steward. “Nobody ever heard of a captain and a steward being so thick together before,” he said. “The steward’s pantry was next against the bullion-room, you know, with nothing but that wretched bit of three-eighths boiler plate between. You wouldn’t often expect to find the captain down in the steward’s pantry, would you, thick as they might be. Well, that’s where I used to find him, time and again. And the steward kept boiler-makers’ tools there!

      That I can swear to. And he’s been a boiler-maker, so that, likely as not, he could open a joint somewhere and patch it up again neatly so that it wouldn’t be noticed. He was always messing about down there in his pantry, and once I distinctly heard knocking there, and when I went down to see, whom should I meet? Why, the skipper, coming away from the place himself, and he bully-ragged me for being there and sent me on deck. But before that he bully-ragged me because I had found out that there were other keys knocking about the place that fitted the padlocks on the bullion-room door. Why should he slang and threaten me for looking after these things and keeping my eye on the bullion-room, as was my duty? But that was the very thing that he didn’t like. It was enough for him to see me anxious about the gold to make him furious. Of course his character for meanness and greed is known all through the company’s service — he’ll do anything to make a bit.”

      “But have you any positive idea as to what has become of the gold?”

      “Well,” Brasyer replied, with a rather knowing air, “I don’t think they’ve dumped it.”

      “Do you mean you think it’s still in the vessel — hidden somewhere?”

      “No, I don’t. I believe the captain and the steward took it ashore, one case each, when we came off in the boats.”

      “But wouldn’t that be noticed?”

      “It needn’t be, on a black night like that. You see, the parcels are not so big — look at them, a foot by a foot and a half by six inches or so, roughly. Easily slipped under a big coat or covered up with anything. Of course they’re a bit heavy — eighty or ninety pounds apiece altogether — but that’s not much for a strong man to carry — especially in such a handy parcel, on a black night, with no end of confusion on. Now you just look here — I’ll tell you something. The skipper went ashore last in a boat that was sent out by the coasting steamer that ran into us. That ship’s put into dock for repairs and her crew are mostly having an easy time ashore. Now I haven’t been asleep this last day or two, and I had a sort of notion there might be some game of this sort on, because when I left the ship that night I thought we might save a little at least of the stuff, but the skipper wouldn’t let me go near the bullion-room, and that seemed odd. So I got hold of one of the boat’s crew that fetched the skipper ashore, and questioned him quietly — pumped him, you know — and he assures me that the skipper did have a rather small, heavy sort of parcel with him. What do you think of that? Of course, in the circumstances, the man couldn’t remember any very distinct particulars, but he thought it was a sort of square wooden case about the size I’ve mentioned. But there’s something more.” Brasyer lifted his forefinger and then brought it down on the table before him — “something more. I’ve made inquiries at the railway station and I find that two heavy parcels were sent off yesterday to London — deal boxes wrapped in brown paper, of just about the right size. And the paper got torn before the things were sent off, and the clerk could see that the boxes inside were fastened with hoop-iron — like those! “and the second officer pointed triumphantly to the boxes piled at one side of the cabin.

      “Well done! “said Hewitt. “You’re quite a smart detective. Did you find out who brought the parcels, and who they were addressed to?”

      “No, I couldn’t get quite as far as that. Of course the clerk didn’t know the names of the senders, and not knowing me, wouldn’t tell me exactly where the parcels were going. But I got quite chummy with him after a bit, and I’m going to meet him presently — he has the afternoon off, and we’re going for a stroll. I’ll find something more, I’ll bet you! ”

      “Certainly,” replied Hewitt, “find all you can — it may be very important. If you get any valuable information you’ll let us know at once, of course. Anything else, now?”

      “No, I don’t think so; but I think what I’ve told you is pretty well enough for the present, eh? I’ll let you know some more soon.”

      Brasyer went, and Norton, the steward of the old ship, was brought into the cabin. He was a sharp-eyed, rather cadaverous-looking man, and he spoke with sepulchral hollowness. He had heard, he said, that there was something wrong with the chests of bullion, and came on board to give any information he could. It wasn’t much, he went on to say, but the smallest thing might help. If he might speak strictly confidentially he would suggest that observation be kept on Wickens, the carpenter. He (Norton) didn’t want to be uncharitable, but his pantry happened to be next the bullion-room, and he had heard Wickens at work for a very long time just below — on the under side of the floor of the bullion-room, it seemed to him, although, of course, he might have been mistaken. Still, it was very odd that the carpenter always seemed to have a job just at that spot. More, it had been said — and he (Norton) believed it to be true — that Wickens, the carpenter, had in his possession, and kept among his stores, keys that fitted the padlocks on the bullion-room door. That, it seemed to him, was a very suspicious circumstance. He didn’t know anything more definite, but offered his ideas for what they were worth, and if his suspicions proved unfounded nobody would be more pleased than himself. But — but — and the steward shook his head doubtfully.

      “Thank you, Mr. Norton,” said Merrick, with a twinkle in his eye; “we won’t forget what you say. Of course, if the stuff is found in consequence of any of your information, you won’t lose by it.”

      The steward said he hoped not, and he wouldn’t fail to keep his eye on the carpenter. He had noticed Wickens was in the tug, and he trusted that if they were going to question him they would do it cautiously, so as not to put him on his guard. Merrick promised they would.

      “By the bye, Mr. Norton,” asked Hewitt, “supposing your suspicions to be justified, what do you suppose the carpenter would do with the bullion?”

      “Well, sir,” replied Norton, “I don’t think he’d keep it on the ship. He’d probably dump it somewhere.”

      The steward left, and Merrick lay back in his chair and guffawed aloud. “This grows farcical,” he said, “simply farcical. What a happy family they must have been aboard the Nicobar! And now here’s the captain watching the second officer, and the second officer watching the captain and the steward, and the steward watching the carpenter! It’s immense. And now we’re going to see the carpenter. Wonder whom he suspects?”

      Hewitt said nothing, but his eyes twinkled with intense merriment, and presently the carpenter was brought into the cabin.

      “Good-day to you, gentlemen,” said the carpenter in a soft and deferential voice, looking from one to the other. “Might I ‘ave the honour