The First R. Austin Freeman MEGAPACK ®. R. Austin Freeman
I am a dealer in precious metals, but my business consists principally in the assaying of samples of ore and quartz and bars of silver and gold.”
“Do you remember what happened on the ninth of March last?”
“Perfectly. My nephew Reuben—the prisoner—delivered to me a parcel of diamonds which he had received from the purser of the Elmina Castle, to whom I had sent him as my confidential agent. I had intended to deposit the diamonds with my banker, but when the prisoner arrived at my office, the banks were already closed, so I had to put the parcel, for the night, in my own safe. I may say that the prisoner was not in any way responsible for the delay.”
“You are not here to defend the prisoner,” said Sir Hector. “Answer my questions and make no comments, if you please. Was anyone present when you placed the diamonds in the safe?”
“No one was present but myself.”
“I did not ask if you were present when you put them in,” said Sir Hector (whereupon the spectators sniggered and the judge smiled indulgently). “What else did you do?”
“I wrote in pencil on a leaf of my pocket memorandum block, ‘Handed in by Reuben at 7.3 p.m., 9.3.01,’ and initialled it. Then I tore the leaf from the block and laid it on the parcel, after which I closed the safe and locked it.”
“How soon did you leave the premises after this?”
“Almost immediately. The prisoner was waiting for me in the outer office—”
“Never mind where the prisoner was; confine your answers to what is asked. Did you take the keys with you?”
“Yes.”
“When did you next open the safe?”
“On the following morning at ten o’clock.”
“Was the safe locked or unlocked when you arrived?”
“It was locked. I unlocked it.”
“Did you notice anything unusual about the safe?”
“No.”
“Had the keys left your custody in the interval?”
“No. They were attached to a key-chain, which I always wear.”
“Are there any duplicates of those keys?—the keys of the safe, I mean.”
“No, there are no duplicates.”
“Have the keys ever gone out of your possession?”
“Yes. If I have had to be absent from the office for a considerable time, it has been my custom to hand the keys to one of my nephews, whichever has happened to be in charge at the time.”
“And never to any other person?”
“Never to any other person.”
“What did you observe when you opened the safe?”
“I observed that the parcel of diamonds had disappeared.”
“Did you notice anything else?”
“Yes. I found the leaf from my memorandum block lying at the bottom of the safe. I picked it up and turned it over, and then saw that there were smears of blood on it and what looked like the print of a thumb in blood. The thumb-mark was on the under-surface, as the paper lay at the bottom of the safe.”
“What did you do next?”
“I closed and locked the safe, and sent a note to the police station saying that a robbery had been committed on my premises.”
“You have known the prisoner several years, I believe?”
“Yes; I have known him all his life. He is my eldest brother’s son.”
“Then you can tell us, no doubt, whether he is left-handed or right-handed?”
“I should say he was ambidextrous, but he uses his left hand by preference.”
“A fine distinction, Mr. Hornby; a very fine distinction. Now tell me, did you ascertain beyond all doubt that the diamonds were really gone?”
“Yes; I examined the safe thoroughly, first by myself and afterwards with the police. There was no doubt that the diamonds had really gone.”
“When the detective suggested that you should have the thumb-prints of your two nephews taken, did you refuse?”
“I refused.”
“Why did you refuse?”
“Because I did not choose to subject my nephews to the indignity. Besides, I had no power to make them submit to the proceeding.”
“Had you any suspicions of either of them?”
“I had no suspicions of anyone.”
“Kindly examine this piece of paper, Mr. Hornby,” said Sir Hector, passing across a small oblong slip, “and tell us if you recognise it.”
Mr. Hornby glanced at the paper for a moment, and then said—
“This is the memorandum slip that I found lying at the bottom of the safe.”
“How do you identify it?”
“By the writing on it, which is in my own hand, and bears my initials.”
“Is it the memorandum that you placed on the parcel of diamonds?”
“Yes.”
“Was there any thumb-mark or blood-smear on it when you placed it in the safe?”
“No.”
“Was it possible that there could have been any such marks?”
“Quite impossible. I tore it from my memorandum block at the time I wrote upon it.”
“Very well.” Sir Hector Trumpler sat down, and Mr. Anstey stood up to cross-examine the witness.
“You have told us, Mr. Hornby,” said he, “that you have known the prisoner all his life. Now what estimate have you formed of his character?”
“I have always regarded him as a young man of the highest character—honourable, truthful, and in every way trustworthy. I have never, in all my experience of him, known him to deviate a hair’s-breadth from the strictest honour and honesty of conduct.”
“You regarded him as a man of irreproachable character. Is that so?”
“That is so; and my opinion of him is unchanged.”
“Has he, to your knowledge, any expensive or extravagant habits?”
“No. His habits are simple and rather thrifty.”
“Have you ever known him to bet, gamble, or speculate?”
“Never.”
“Has he ever seemed to be in want of money?”
“No. He has a small private income, apart from his salary, which I know he does not spend, since I have occasionally employed my broker to invest his savings.”
“Apart from the thumb-print which was found in the safe, are you aware of any circumstances that would lead you to suspect the prisoner of having stolen the diamonds?”
“None whatever.”
Mr. Anstey sat down, and as Mr. Hornby left the witness-box, mopping the perspiration from his forehead, the next witness was called.
“Inspector Sanderson!”
The dapper police officer stepped briskly into the box, and having been duly sworn, faced the prosecuting counsel with the air of a man who was prepared for any contingency.
“Do you remember,” said Sir Hector, after the usual preliminaries had been gone through, “what occurred on the morning