To an East-End mortuary the cab bore them, and they were led by a constable6 in attendance to a stone-paved, ill-lighted apartment in which a swathed form lay upon a long deal table. The spectacle presented, when the covering was removed, was one to have shocked less hardened nerves than those of Stuart and Dunbar; but the duties of a police officer, like those of a medical man, not infrequently necessitate7 such inspections8. The two bent10 over the tragic11 flotsam of the Thames unmoved and critical.
"H'm," said Stuart—"he's about the build, certainly. Hair iron-grey and close cropped and he seems to have worn a beard. Now, let us see."
"No, Inspector," he said definitely. "This is not the cabman. There is no wound corresponding to the one which I dressed."
"Right," answered Dunbar, covering up the ghastly face. "That's settled."
"You were wrong, Inspector. It was not Gaston Max who left the envelope with me."
"Your theory that Max, jealously working alone, had left particulars of his inquiries14, and clues, in my hands, knowing that they would reach Scotland Yard in the event of his death, surely collapsed15 when the envelope proved to contain nothing but a bit of cardboard?"
"Yes—I suppose it did. But it sounded so much like Max's round-about methods. Anyway I wanted to make sure that the dead man from Hanover Hole and your mysterious cabman were not one and the same."
Stuart entertained a lively suspicion that Inspector Dunbar was keeping something up his sleeve, but with this very proper reticence16 he had no quarrel, and followed by the constable, who relocked the mortuary behind them, they came out into the yard where the cab waited which was to take them to Scotland Yard. Dunbar, standing17 with one foot upon the step of the cab, turned to the constable.
"Has anyone else viewed the body?" he asked.
"No sir."
"No one is to be allowed to do so—you understand?—no one, unless he has written permission from the Commissioner18."
"Very good, sir."
Half an hour later they arrived at New Scotland Yard and went up to Dunbar's room. A thick-set, florid man of genial19 appearance, having a dark moustache, a breezy manner and a head of hair resembling a very hard-worked blacking-brush, awaited them. This was Detective-Sargeant Sowerby with whom Stuart was already acquainted.
"Good-morning, sir. I hear that someone was pulling your leg last night."
"What do you mean exactly, Sowerby?" inquired Dunbar, fixing his fierce eyes upon his subordinate.
Sergeant Sowerby exhibited confusion.
"I mean nothing offensive, Inspector. I was referring to the joker who gave so good an imitation of my voice that even you were deceived."
"Ah," replied Dunbar—"I see. Yes—he did it well. He spoke21 just like you. I could hardly make out a word he said."
Dunbar sat down at the table.
"Here's Dr. Stuart's description of the missing cabman," he continued, taking out his note-book. "Dr. Stuart has viewed the body and it is not the man. You had better take a proper copy of this."
"Then the cabman wasn't Max?" cried Sowerby eagerly. "I thought not."
"I believe you told me so before," said Dunbar sourly. "I also seem to recall that you thought a scorpion23's tail was a Prickly Pear. However—here, on the page numbered twenty-six, is a description of the woman known as Mlle. Dorian. It should be a fairly easy matter to trace the car through the usual channels, and she ought to be easy to find, too."
He glanced at his watch. Stuart was standing by the lofty window looking out across the Embankment.
"Ten o'clock," said Dunbar. "The Commissioner will be expecting us."
"I am ready," responded Stuart.
Leaving Sergeant Sowerby seated at the table studying the note-book,
Stuart and Dunbar proceeded to the smoke-laden room of the Assistant
that polished courtesy for which he was notable.
"You have been of inestimable assistance to us in the past, Dr. Stuart," he said, "and I feel happy to know that we are to enjoy the aid of your special knowledge in the present case. Will you smoke one of my cigarettes? They are some which a friend is kind enough to supply to me direct from Cairo, and are really quite good."
"Thanks," replied Stuart. "May I ask in what direction my services are likely to prove available?"
The Commissioner lighted a fresh cigarette. Then from a heap of correspondence he selected a long report typed upon blue foolscap.
"I have here," he said, "confirmation25 of the telegraphic report received last night. The name of M. Gaston Max will no doubt be familiar to you?"
Stuart nodded.
"Well," continued the Commissioner, "it appears that he has been engaged in England for the past month endeavouring to trace the connection which he claims to exist between the sudden deaths of various notable people, recently—a list is appended—and some person or organisation26 represented by, or associated with, a scorpion. His personal theory not being available—poor fellow, you have heard of his tragic death—I have this morning consulted such particulars as I could obtain respecting these cases. If they were really cases of assassination27, some obscure poison was the only mode of death that could possibly have been employed. Do you follow me?"
"Now, the death of Gaston Max under circumstances not yet explained, would seem to indicate that his theory was a sound one. In other words, I am disposed to believe that he himself represents the most recent outrage29 of what we will call 'The Scorpion.' Even at the time that the body of the man found by the River Police had not been identified, the presence upon his person of a fragment of gold strongly resembling the tail of a scorpion prompted me to instruct Inspector Dunbar to consult you. I had determined30 upon a certain course. The identification of the dead man with Gaston Max merely strengthens my determination and enhances the likelihood of my idea being a sound one."
"Without mentioning names, the experts consulted in the other cases which—according to the late Gaston Max—were victims of 'The Scorpion,' do not seem to have justified33 their titles. I am arranging that you shall be present at the autopsy34 upon the body of Gaston Max. And now, permit me to ask you a question: are you acquainted with any poison which would produce the symptoms noted35 in the case of Sir Frank Narcombe, for instance?"
Stuart shook his head slowly.
"All that I know of the case," he said, "is that he was taken suddenly ill in the foyer of a West-End theatre, immediately removed to his house in Half Moon Street, and died shortly afterward36. Can you give me copies of the specialists' reports and other particulars? I may then be able to form an opinion."
"I will get them for you," replied the Commissioner, the exact nature of whose theory was by no means evident to Stuart. He opened a drawer. "I have here," he continued, "the piece of cardboard and the envelope left with you by the missing cab-man. Do you think there is any possibility of invisible writing?"
"None," said Stuart confidently. "I have tested in three or four places as you will see by the spots, but my experiments will in no way interfere37 with those which no doubt your own people will want to make. I have also submitted both surfaces to a microscopic38 examination. I am prepared to state definitely that there is no writing upon the cardboard, and except for the number, 30, none upon the envelope."
"It is only reasonable to suppose," continued the Commissioner, "that the telephone message which led Inspector Dunbar to leave your house last night was originated by that unseen intelligence against which we find ourselves pitted. In the first place, no one in London, myself and, presumably, 'The Scorpion' excepted, knew at that time that M. Gaston Max was in England or that M. Gaston Max was dead. I say, presumably 'The Scorpion' because it is fair to assume that the person whom Max pursued was responsible for his death.
"Of course"—the Commissioner reached for the box of cigarettes—"were it not for the telephone message, we should be unjustified in assuming that Mlle. Dorian and this"—he laid his finger upon the piece of cardboard—"had any connection with the case of M. Max. But the message was so obviously designed to facilitate the purloining40 of the sealed envelope and so obviously emanated41 from one already aware of the murder of M. Max, that the sender is identified at once with— 'The Scorpion.'"
The Assistant Commissioner complacently42 lighted a fresh cigarette.
"Finally," he said, "the mode of death in the case of M. Max may not have been the same as in the other cases. Therefore, Dr. Stuart"—he paused impressively—"if you fail to detect anything suspicious at the post mortem examination I propose to apply to the Home Secretary for power to exhume43 the body of the late Sir Frank Narcombe!"
Deep in reflection, Stuart walked alone along the Embankment. The full facts contained in the report from Paris the Commissioner had not divulged44, but Stuart concluded that this sudden activity was directly due, not to the death of M. Max, but to the fact that he (Max) had left behind him some more or less tangible45 clue. Stuart fully46 recognized that the Commissioner had accorded him an opportunity to establish his reputation—or to wreck47 it.
Yet, upon closer consideration, it became apparent that it was to Fate and not to the Commissioner that he was indebted. Strictly48 speaking, his association with the matter dated from the night of his meeting with the mysterious cabman in West India Dock road. Or had the curtain first been lifted upon this occult drama that evening, five years ago, as the setting sun reddened the waters of the Imperial Canal and a veiled figure passed him on the Wu-Men Bridge?
"Shut your eyes tightly, master—the Scorpion is coming!"
He seemed to hear the boy's words now, as he passed along the Embankment; he seemed to see again the tall figure. And suddenly he stopped, stood still and stared with unseeing eyes across the muddy waters of the Thames. He was thinking of the cowled man who had stood behind the curtains in his study—of that figure so wildly bizarre that even now he could scarcely believe that he had ever actually seen it. He walked on.
Automatically his reflections led him to Mlle. Dorian, and he remembered that even as he paced along there beside the river the wonderful mechanism49 of New Scotland Yard was in motion, its many tentacles50 seeking—seeking tirelessly—for the girl, whose dark eyes haunted his sleeping and waking hours. He was responsible, and if she were arrested he would be called upon to identify her. He condemned51 himself bitterly.
After all, what crime had she committed? She had tried to purloin39 a letter—which did not belong to Stuart in the first place. And she had failed. Now—the police were looking for her. His reflections took a new form.
What of Gaston Max, foremost criminologist in Europe, who now lay dead and mutilated in an East-End mortuary? The telephone message which had summoned Dunbar away had been too opportune52 to be regarded as a mere31 coincidence. Mlle. Dorian was, therefore, an accomplice53 of a murderer.
Stuart sighed. He would have given much—more than he was prepared to admit to himself—to have known her to be guiltless.
The identity of the missing cabman now engaged his mind. It was quite possible, of course, that the man had actually found the envelope in his cab a was in no other way concerned in the matter. But how had Mlle. Dorian, or the person instructing her, traced the envelope to his study? And why, if they could establish a claim to it, had they preferred to attempt to steal it? Finally, why all this disturbance54 about a blank piece of cardboard?
A mental picture of the envelope arose before him, the number, 30, written upon it and the two black seals securing the lapels. He paused again in his walk. His reflections had led him to a second definite point and he fumbled55 in his waistcoat pocket for a time, seeking a certain brass56 coin about the size of a halfpenny, having a square hole in the middle and peculiar57 characters engraved58 around the square, one on each of the four sides.
He failed to find the coin in his pocket, however, but he walked briskly up a side street until he came to the entrance to a tube station. Entering a public telephone call-box, he asked for the number, City 400. Being put through and having deposited the necessary fee in the box:
"Is that the Commissioner's Office, New Scotland Yard?" he asked. "Yes! My name is Dr. Keppel Stuart. If Inspector Dunbar is there, would you kindly59 allow me to speak to him."
"Hullo!" came—"is that Dr. Stuart?"
"Yes. That you, Inspector? I have just remembered something which I should have observed in the first place if I had been really wide-awake. The envelope—you know the one I mean?—the one bearing the number, 30, has been sealed with a Chinese coin, known as cash. I have just recognized the fact and thought it wise to let you know at once."
"Are you sure?" asked Dunbar.
"Certain. If you care to call at my place later to-day I can show you some cash. Bring the envelope with you and you will see that the coins correspond to the impression in the wax. The inscriptions61 vary in different provinces, but the form of all cash is the same."
"Very good. Thanks for letting me know at once. It seems to establish a link with China, don't you think?"
"It does, but it merely adds to the mystery."
Coming out of the call-box, Stuart proceeded home, but made one or two professional visits before he actually returned to the house. He now remembered having left his particular cash piece (which he usually carried) in his dispensary, which satisfactorily accounted for his failure to find the coin in his waistcoat pocket. He had broken the cork63 of a flask64, and in the absence of another of correct size had manufactured a temporary stopper with a small cork to the top of which he had fixed65 the Chinese coin with a drawing-pin. His purpose served he had left the extemporised stopper lying somewhere in the dispensary.
Stuart's dispensary was merely a curtained recess66 at one end of the waiting-room and shortly after entering the house he had occasion to visit it. Lying upon a shelf among flasks67 and bottles was the Chinese coin with the cork still attached. He took it up in order to study the inscription62. Then:
"Have I cultivated somnambulism!" he muttered.
Fragments of black sealing-wax adhered to the coin!
Incredulous and half fearful he peered at it closely. He remembered that the impression upon the wax sealing the mysterious envelope had had a circular depression in the centre. It had been made by the head of the drawing-pin!
He found himself staring at the shelf immediately above that upon which the coin had lain. A stick of black sealing-wax used for sealing medicine was thrust in beside a bundle of long envelopes in which he was accustomed to post his Infirmary reports!
One hand raised to his head, Stuart stood endeavouring to marshal his ideas into some sane68 order. Then, knowing what he should find, he raised the green baize curtain hanging from the lower shelf, which concealed69 a sort of cupboard containing miscellaneous stores and not a little rubbish, including a number of empty cardboard boxes.
A rectangular strip had been roughly cut from the lid of the topmost box!
The mysterious envelope and its contents, the wax and the seal—all had come from his own dispensary!
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1
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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favourably
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| adv. 善意地，赞成地 =favorably | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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necessitate
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| v.使成为必要，需要 | |
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inspections
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| n.检查( inspection的名词复数 )；检验；视察；检阅 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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scorpion
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| n.蝎子，心黑的人，蝎子鞭 | |
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suavely
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confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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autopsy
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| n.尸体解剖；尸检 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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microscopic
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| adj.微小的，细微的，极小的，显微的 | |
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purloin
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| v.偷窃 | |
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purloining
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| v.偷窃( purloin的现在分词 ) | |
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emanated
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的过去式和过去分词 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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exhume
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| v.掘出，挖掘 | |
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divulged
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| v.吐露，泄露( divulge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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tentacles
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| n.触手( tentacle的名词复数 )；触角；触须；触毛 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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52
opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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53
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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55
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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56
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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57
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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58
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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61
inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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63
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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64
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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65
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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66
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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67
flasks
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| n.瓶，长颈瓶， 烧瓶( flask的名词复数 ) | |
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68
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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69
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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