CHAPTER XXXIII. LOOKING OUT THE KEYSTONE.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2248, 4 December 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XXXIII. LOOKING OUT THE KEYSTONE.

Seroeant Usher over the Bunbury mystery is now a sight for the Gods, as the old books say. One can understand it ; when we hare achieved the solution of any great mental problem there is always an inclination, speaking figuratively, to stand upon our head or throw our hat into the air ; notables especially in the solving of the great conundrum are wont to express their satisfaction in fantastic fashion. •It's a lovely puzzle,' chuckled Sergeant Usher as he smoked his pipe in his own lodgings in Spring Gardens, " and it's all put together now with the exception of the last few bits, and they are obvious.' ' First thing is to see if Sturton knows this handwriting,' and here Mr Usher tapped his breast pocket in which he kept the precious note and the photograph of the late John Fosadyke.' •according to my reckoning he will.'- • Secondly, to see if that wearisome old creature, Totterdeli, recognises this as the photograph of the man who sat next him at the opening of the Baumborough Theatre, which, of course, he won't.' 'Lastly, if I can, to get hold of a photograph of Mr Cudemore, and then show Totterdeli that, and if it don't give him fits, well I'm mistaken some. Now, how the deuce am I to get about this last business. Yes, I think my precocious young friend, with his still more precocious views regarding the £200 reward, might really earn a £10 note over this little bit of business. In the meantime,' said Mr Usher, atill chuckling with satisfaction at bis piecing of the puzzle, ' a man of fashion like me really ought to get a new rig out from Sturton. None of your reach-me-down readymoney tailors for a man of my position. Dukes and detectives should be waited on by first-rate artists, and yes, by firstrate tickists ; Sturton taking my order for a frock-coat and all to match, and doing my little ninety days' bill for a hundred. O Lord,' said Mr Usher, bursting into a fit of laughter ; 4 just to think of myaeU

as a real Bond-street lounger. It's a rum un, it is.' Sergeant Usher had put the obtaining Mr Ciulemore's photograph last in his cogitations because it was by far the least important of the three last bricks in his arch of evidence. Misa Lightcomb, Mr Totterdell, the people at the Hopbine, and the label on the portmanteau, all sufficed really to identify the moneylender if he was the man as the sergeant had now 110 manner of doubt he was ; but, as was before said. Mr Usher was an artist, aud likely to hand his cases over to the Solicitors of the Terasury without a flaw in them. The first thing the sergeant did was to send for Timothy Whipple, that very junior, and now dismissed, clerk. Gentlemen of Mr Cudemore's vocation usually find one confidential clerk quite enough for their actual requirements, although a junior or two of the Whipple calibre are useful. Timothy, although he had been sternly disabused of that Gol-conda-like dream of grasping the £200 reward, still cherished hopes that he might realise something handsome by his I information, aud responded to Mr Usher's summons with alacrity. It would have been utterly wanting in accordance with the sergeant's practice to ask anyone to call upon him at his own lodgings, so the Wellington Res'turant was the trysting place he selected. There he found Timothy duly awaitiug his arrival over a pint of ale and some bread and cheese. 'Now, my lad,' said Mr Usher, 'you, really, considering your age, have some little gumption. That portmanteau busiis creditable ; not much importance to us, but creditable. Now, it's juat possible you might earn an honest ten pun note over this business. It might run to that, although we can easy do without you. But remember tnis time you're working to orders, and when people don't act strictly to my orders, they'd best lead lives of virtue and circumspection. Now, I shouldn't think my young friend that'll be quite your virtue. If you don't turn gamekeeper you'll become poTcher ; if you •lon't join us you'll drift into the ranks of the criminal classes.' •I'm sure, Mr Usher, I'll do anything you tell me.' replied Timothy, meekly. ' Well, look here, my lad. Mr Cudemore's given you the sack, but still for all that you might be able to get what I want, and that is Mr Cudemore's photograph. Bo you think yon can ?' • I can't be Mire, *ir. He's a book of 'em in his sitting-room, and I'm pretty sure there's one of himself in that ; but you know, Mr Usher, I can't make very sure of getting 1 into that room now.' • There's no making sure of anything 1 much in this world,' rejoined the sergeant, t-ententiously, • bnt you'll make «<ure of a tenner if you'll manage that, and to a young gentleman of your sort, who's out of employment, and don't permit his imagination to run riot, that should represent profitable business.' Tim simply thanked the omniscient one, promised to do his best, and withdrew. 'Ir nin'fc of muoh account,' muttered the sergeant, ' but I do like to send a case in complete.' The next thing that Mr Usher had to achieve was obviously to interview the fashionable Bond-street tailor, and there, accordingly, the sergeant proceeded next, and sent in his card. Mr Sturton was at home, and at once sent out word^th-it he should be happy to see the eminent Scotland Yard official. ' Well, Mr U:>her, what can I do for j you ?' inquired the Bond-street maestro, j urbanely. The humour of the situation tickled the sergeant, and it was with a grim smile that he retorted ' Well, you know a gentleman in my profession wants a sfood many costumes at times. Now, suppose I ask you to pitch me out as a real swell about town.' The great sartorial artist was'some two or three minutes before he made reply, during which he eyed his visitor gravely ; at last he refused. 'No offence I trust, Mr Usher, but it'n best to be candid in these cases. I'll do my very best for you, but you couldn't look it, not if we did our utmost to oblige you. Now, please, don't get angry, because I shall be only too willing to do all I can to assist. Listen to me ! as the slightly eccentric member for Wetst Broadacres, member of the Carlton, and with violent Conservative tendencies, I can turn you out to the nines , or if you like it better as the advanced Radical member for Floareuppertown, rejectedjof the Reform because ho goes a little too f ay for tha played-out institution, I also can do you justice. As a man of fashion, Mr Usher, you won't come off.' The sergeant gave vent to a grim chuckle at his little joke, and 6aid " Well, Mr Sturton, it's not quite true, then that men are what their tailors make them.' • Good heavens, Mr Usher,' crird the enthusiastic Sturton, who really did believe in his professiou, ' it isn't every clay buits the sculptor, and tyoodness knows it im'fc every clay that suits the tailor. No disparagement, my friend, but it's not in the power of broadcloth, tweed, .sergo, or angola to turn out a lord.' ' And you wouldn't if you could,' retorted the sergeaiit, perfectly aware of Mr Sturton's weakness, 'not you; nobody knows better the days that art 1 coming, and th;ih coronets will be amongdt the iel ; cs of history, eh ?' 1 Well,' replied Mr Sturton, who, despite his professed Ridical opinious. entertained a soryile adoration for the aristocracy.' they are not quite to be overlooked as yet by my profession.' ' Quite so. Now. Mr Sturton, we'll come to business,' rejoined the sergeant curtly. 'I suppose you are a judge of handwriting ?' • I don't understand you,' replied Sturton, in blank amazement. • Well, I mean this : in the course of your business you must] have had ' a wrong 'un ' given you occasionally.' Again did the eminent tailor stare blankly at his questioner. ' What I mean is this,' said the sergeant, confidentially, 'you've taken a a cheque or two in your time when the drawer's imagination had proved too much for him ; whrn, in fact, he had forgotten his own name.' ' Ah, yes,' said Mr Sturton, ' that, of course, has happened, but you know, Mr Uaher, as a rule they are rather lucrative things than otherwise ; the family always pay to avoid an exposure, find never object to a pretty stiff percentage under the circumstances.' ' Just so ;' rejoined the sergeant quietly, ' but to return to my original observation, you're a judge of handwriting. What do you think of this?' And here Mr Usher produced the famous note that was 80 nearly burnt at the Hopbine. It waa folded after the mysterious manner in which the sergeant invariably had thown it, so that you could see little more than the signature, but one glance at it Hufficed for Mr Sturton. 1 Yes,' he said, • I know that hand, but I have no intention of telling you whose it is.' Mr Usher broke into a low laugh as ho replied, 'I don't want you fco tell me whore handwriting it is, because I know, but you will be wanted to give a court of law your opinion before threo weeks are over your head, and I can only tell you with what I am in a position to prove, it would be maduess on your part not to speak out.' The collapse of Mr Sfcurton was quite equal to that of Timothy Whipple. Ho W>\v ■• '" '* *'""•" be no f .'ni'i"f i übuux hia relatiuuo with. Mr Cudeinoie in.

a witness-box. The more candid ho was, the Iphh harm would it do him, but he saw to his dismay that the detective meant to have him in the witness-box, and so replied quietly, ' Yea, it's Cudemoie's. I know nothing about the note, and you have given me no chance of knowing ; but even if you did I fancy it i«> ft thing with which I had nothing to do.' 'Not you, Mr Sturton,' replied the sergeant, as he picked up his hat. 'I know that well enough ; but you'll have to testify to that handwriting. Good day, sir, and it's real trouble to me to think you could not make a genuine Bond-street toff of me.' Very uncomfortable was Mr Sturton after the detective loft him. He was far too shrewd a man not to thoroughly comprehend the whole situation. He -aw that he should bo called upon to identify Cudcmore's writing in court, •md quite understood how very unpleasant a sharp croj-sexamining barrister might make it for him. That he lent money to his clients was no particular mystery in a select set, carefully as he endeavoured to make it, but ho certainly did not want that fact advertised in the journal.". Mr Sturton d d the Busbury mystery v/ith no little energy, fascinated as he was by it, as soon as Sergeant Usher had departed. It had never occurred to the great Bond-street Maestro before that he might be actively and disagreeably inculpated in the elucidation of the crime. • That littlo bit of business is settled,' mused Mr Uaher, as he wended his way leisurely back to the Wellington Restaurant in Spring Gaidcn", where ho had appointed Timothy Whipple to meet him. As ho expected, Tim was waiting for him. ' Well,' said Mr Usher, 'have you got what I wanted ?' ' Yes,' said Tim, 'l have, and a good dtjal of trouble it's caused me. I had to watch the governor out, and then wait my chaucp to steul upstair-* ; but I've got it, Mr Usher, nnd here it is.' 'Good, my lad,' said the sergeant, as ho took a capacious pocket-book from his breast. 'Now,' continued Mr Usher, as he dropped tho photograph into ono of the pockets and extracted a bank-note from another, "there's ten pounds for you, and, remember, my young friend, it's not many of us m cvoi kuock that out of their fiist murder ca^e." 'It ought to run to more, Mr Uhher, indeed it ought. You know you've incited me to steal that photograph. There's penalties, you know, for prompting anyone to commit a felony.' The sergeant's fice really was a etudy at this retort. He looked Tim Whipple over for a moment, and then said solemnly — ' My young friend, your sole chance of escaping the gallows is joining ' tho Yard.' If you don't devote your talents to hanging your fellow creatures, they will some day undoubtedly hang you. I told you to. if possible, procuio a photograph of Mr Cudemore. I never authorised your stealing it ; and if I did what I ought, I should take you into custody now on that charge. I should know then where to lay my hands on you. I should save this ten pounds, and in fact, damme, I believe that's the best way out of it.' But here Tim Whipple's audacity utterly gave way. He burst forth into no end of apologies for his presumption, declared he was perfectly satisfied with his remuneration, that his address was always at Mr Usher's disposal, and that if the sergeant would at some future time recommend him as a candidate for the police force or the criminal investigation department — his ambition would be satisfied. He quite grovelled before the great detective, and even offered to restore the ten-pound note. 1 Well, my Lid,' said Mr Usher, at last, ' I think you've the making of an officer of my department in course of time. The sooner you get over bnmptiousness and thinking things out for yourself at present the better. We don't stand that sort of nonsense amongst our subordinates. We do the thinking, and merely expect them to do what they're told, and anyone who can do that satisfactorily in our line ia certain to come to the top of the ladder if bo's any gumption in him at all.' ' Oh, Mr Usher, if I thought that,' exclaimed Tim. ' Beware of bumptiousness,' rejoined the sergeant, solemnly, ' and it's possible you may e>cape the gallows yet. Now, my lad, hook it — I've done with you.'