Byways to Evil. Lloyd Biggle, jr.
me aside. “What a parcel of dreary problems,” she said wearily. “It’s a gold antique brooch that Lady Cowlan is missing, oval, two and a half inches long by an inch high. It has ten small diamonds around the perimeter and a large one in the centre about a half carat in weight. Because it is so old, its value as an antique would certainly be far greater than the value of the stones and the gold separately, but a thief might not know that. If it really was stolen, it probably has been broken up and disposed of by now. Her servants are highly reliable, and they dote on her. I’m sure none of them took it nor would any of them cooperate with a thief. I think it much more likely that she lost or mislaid it. Find out when she last wore it and what gown she wore it on.”
We had a short ride down Park Lane in the Viscountess’s carriage. Dorothy, her maid, a sensible, middle-aged woman who had been with her for years, told me she had searched every drawer and container that could possibly have contained the brooch.
“What gown was the Viscountess wearing when she last wore it?” I asked.
This occasioned an argument between Dorothy and another maid. Neither of them remembered, and of course the Viscountess had no recollection of it. Finally Dorothy went to a wardrobe crammed with dresses, one of several such wardrobes, and took out a gown, a showy arrangement of silk that must have looked odd on the elderly Viscountess.
On the breast of the gown was pinned the brooch.
It was a typical triumph for Lady Sara—a brilliant solution to a problem that proved to be trivial only because of her brilliant solution. As was usually the case, someone else got the credit. I was warmly embraced by the Viscountess, congratulated by Dorothy, and viewed as a miracle-worker by all of the servants, who had been extremely distressed over the Viscountess’s loss. Her butler presented me with a bottle of a fine old port that I knew I didn’t have the palate to properly appreciate.
I took it home with me and gave it to Lady Sara. This was one of the few times her prowess brought her a tangible reward.
After I returned to Connaught Mews, Lady Sara and I discussed the river thefts. She first wanted to know about the Thames Police’s detective staff.
“The detectives use disguised boats and follow no schedules at all, but there are too few of them,” I said. “Occasionally they happen onto booty that’s been sunk in waterproof bags and buoyed with an innocent-looking float of some kind, but almost always this turns out to be smuggled goods. The smugglers cache them here and there in small quantities, and the occasional discovery of a hiding place is no great loss to them. As far as the police are concerned, these are worthwhile ‘finds,’ but they have nothing to do with the river thefts.”
“What are your impressions?” she asked.
“I never realized what a welter of confusion exists on both sides of the river,” I said. “It is packed with wharves, warehouses, and docks all the way to Greenwich and beyond. There are ships of every kind docked, or anchored, or arriving, or departing, or moving from one place to another. It is difficult to make any sense of it.”
There was laughter in her voice. “Spoken like a true landlubber. Successful thieves have the ability to turn such confusion to their advantage. That is why they are successful. What are their chances of being overlooked if they boldly move goods through that clutter of shipping by daylight?”
“None,” I said confidently. “They might manage it once or twice, but they would be caught sooner or later and probably sooner. The police and customs authorities keep a closer watch on things than seems possible.”
“In any case, the actual stealing would have to be done at night when there are few people about,” Lady Sara mused. “The first question is whether the stolen goods are being removed by waggon or by boat.”
I had no answer to that, but I felt certain of one thing: If by boat, they weren’t being transported far. “When boats move on the river at night, someone knows all about them or quickly becomes suspicious,” I said. “They couldn’t navigate through London’s harbour night after night in unlighted boats of whatever description without both police and customs authorities investigating. Even if the boats are properly lighted, someone will soon get curious as to who they are and where they are going. They aren’t transporting stolen goods from Tilbury to somewhere beyond the upper pool, for example.”
“All the thefts to date have occurred between London Bridge and Greenwich,” Lady Sara said. “The thieves probably have a haven somewhere along those reaches. Or several havens. Even so, it seems strange that the authorities have never caught sight of them. Chief Inspector Mewer considers this a simple case. ‘One not worthy of Lady Sara’s attention,’ was the way he put it to a subordinate. He regards the thieves’ success as a question of luck, but he has to concede they have been uncommonly lucky.”
“There has to be more than luck involved,” I said.
“A great deal more. The thefts have been managed so cleverly that the firms robbed haven’t been able to decide when or what time of day it happened or what employees were on duty. That suggests an organization of highly skilled thieves. But to return to the waggon or boat question—however the thefts are managed, almost certainly the goods are being taken somewhere quickly by boat.”
“Why not by land?” I asked, remembering those sharp-eyed police on the river.
“Think how many waggons it would require, or how many trips by one waggon, to transport the quantity of goods stolen. That would attract far more attention around the looted warehouses than a single unlighted boat. I am certain the thefts occur at night with the goods being removed by boat to a warehouse or warehouses along the river.”
I thought for a moment about what I had seen from the river. “If the thieves were to use a boat small enough to nose into narrow openings, they could move closely inshore and keep out of sight by threading their way among anchored or docked ships. That might enable them to escape detection indefinitely.”
Lady Sara shook her head. “The boat would have to be large enough to carry worthwhile loads. Also, a boat behaving in the manner you describe would arouse suspicion the moment anyone glimpsed it. The thieves may find boldness more effective than stealth because it isn’t so likely to be suspected. They may keep to the centre of the river and follow in the wake of a large boat. Or they may work up one side and then drift back downstream on the other side. They may change their tactics repeatedly.”
The idea of a small boat hiding in shadows along the shore appealed to me, and I was reluctant to give it up. “Sentries posted on the bank could detect them easily if they really are moving close inshore,” I said.
“But we don’t want them ‘detected,’” Lady Sara said. “Capturing one boat wouldn’t solve anything. They would simply change their tactics. We must find out where they are taking the stolen goods. Their warehouse, or warehouses, will have to be our first objective. These may belong to a firm handling a large volume of legitimate business. Only in that way could quantities of stolen goods be disposed of without eventually arousing suspicion. We also need to know something about the way goods are handled along the river. When you can spare the time, give some thought to that.”
CHAPTER 4
The meeting with Chief Inspector Mewer was scheduled for two o’clock, and Thomas Tallmage, the doctor who, years before, had reduced a mongrel dog’s fracture for me, arrived shortly before two. He was now Sir Thomas Tallmage, one of London’s most distinguished physicians. He was tall and handsome, greying despite the fact that he wasn’t much older than fifty, the calm and poised master of any crisis because he had seen so many. He had been Lady Sara’s suitor for more than twenty years.
He once told me how, as a young doctor, he had attempted to persuade her father, the Earl, that his prospects, both for wealth and distinction, were excellent, and he would make a worthy husband for a nobleman’s daughter. The Earl cut him off with a laugh. “You don’t have to convince me, my boy. Convince her!”
Sir Thomas had never been able to, but he was still trying.
Lady Sara was her father’s