There he was, wallet and all, just as he had come from the Eastern Consolidated Bank. He went straight from there to Palmer’s, by the bye, and probably in a cab. We judge that by the time. He left the Eastern Consolidated at a quarter-past one, and was at Palmer’s by twenty-five-past — ten minutes. The clerk at Palmer’s remembered the time because he was anxious to get out to his lunch, and kept looking at the clock, expecting another clerk in to relieve him. Laker didn’t take much in the way of luggage, I fancy. We inquired carefully at the stations, and got the porters to remember the passengers for whom they had been carrying luggage, but none appeared to have had any dealings with our man. That, of course, is as one would expect. He’d take as little as possible with him, and buy what he wanted on the way, or when he’d reached his hiding-place. Of course, I wired to Calais (it was a Dover to Calais route ticket) and sent a couple of smart men off by the 8.15 mail from Charing Cross. I expect we shall hear from them in the course of the day. I am being kept in London in view of something expected at headquarters, or I should have been off myself.’
‘That is all, then, up to the present? Have you anything else in view?’
‘That’, all I’ve absolutely ascertained at present. As for what I’m going to do’— a slight smile curled Plummer’s lip —’ well, I shall see. I’ve a thing or two in my mind.’
Hewitt smiled slightly himself; he recognized Plummer’s touch of professional jealousy. ‘Very well,’ he said, rising, ‘I’ll make an inquiry or two for myself at once. Perhaps, Mr Neal, you’ll allow one of your clerks to show me the banks, in their regular order, at which Laker called yesterday. I think I’ll begin at the beginning.’
Mr Neal offered to place at Hewitt’s disposal anything or anybody the bank contained, and the conference broke up. As Hewitt, with the clerk, came through the rooms separating Mr Neal’s sanctum from the outer office, lie fancied he saw the two veiled women leaving by a side door.
The first bank was quite close to Liddle, Neal & Liddle’s. There the cashier who had dealt with Laker the day before remembered nothing in particular about the interview. Many other walk-clerks had called during the morning, as they did every morning, and the only circumstances of the visit that he could say anything definite about were those recorded in figures in the books. He did not know Laker’s name till Plummer had mentioned it in making inquiries on the previous afternoon. As far as he could remember, Laker behaved much as usual, though really he did not notice much; he looked chiefly at the bills. He described Laker in a way that corresponded with the photograph that Hewitt had borrowed from the bank; a young man with a brown moustache and ordinary-looking fairly regular face, dressing much as other clerks dressed — tall hat, black cutaway coat, and so on. The numbers of the notes handed over had already been given to Inspector Plummer, and these Hewitt did not trouble about.
The next bank was in Cornhill, and here the cashier was a personal friend of Laker’s — at any rate, an acquaintance — and he remembered a little more. Laker’s manner had been quite as usual, he said; certainly he did not seem preoccupied or excited in his manner. He spoke for a moment or two — of being on the river on Sunday, and so on — and left in his usual way.
‘Can you remember everything he said?’ Hewitt asked. ‘If you can tell me, I should like to know exactly what he did and said to the smallest particular.’
‘Well, he saw me a little distance off — I was behind there, at one of the desks — and raised his hand to me, and said, “How d’ye do?” I came across and took his bills, and dealt with them in the usual way. He had a new umbrella lying on the counter — rather a handsome umbrella — and I made a remark about the handle. He took it up to show me, and told me it was a present he had just received from a friend. It was a gorse-root handle, with two silver bands, one with his monogram, C.W.L. I said it was a very nice handle, and asked him whether it was fine in his district on Sunday. He said he had been up the river, and it was very fine there. And I think that was all.’
‘Thank you. Now about this umbrella. Did he carry it rolled? Can you describe it in detail?’
‘Well, I’ve told you about the handle, and the rest was much as usual, I think; it wasn’t rolled — just napping loosely, you know. It was rather an odd-shaped handle, though. I’ll try and sketch it, if you like, as well as I can remember.’ He did so, and Hewitt saw in the result rough indications of a gnarled crook, with one silver band near the end, and another, with the monogram, a few inches down the handle. Hewitt put the sketch in his pocket, and bade the cashier good-day.
At the next bank the story was the same as at the first — there was nothing remembered but the usual routine. Hewitt and the clerk turned down a narrow paved court, and through into Lombard Street for the next visit. The bank — that of Buller, Clayton, Ladds & Co. — was just at the corner at the end of the court, and the imposing stone entrance-porch was being made larger and more imposing still, the way being almost blocked by ladders and scaffold-poles. Here there was only the usual tale, and so on through the whole walk. The cashiers knew Laker only by sight, and that not always very distinctly. The calls of walk-clerks were such matters of routine that little note was taken of the persons of the clerks themselves, who were called by the names of their firms, if they were called by any names at all. Laker had behaved much as usual, so far as the cashiers could remember, and when finally the Eastern Consolidated was left behind, nothing more had been learnt than the chat about Laker’s new umbrella.
Hewitt had taken leave of Mr Neal’s clerk, and was stepping into a hansom, when he noticed a veiled woman in widow’s weeds hailing another hansom a little way behind. He recognized the figure again, and said to the driver: ‘Drive fast to Palmer’s Tourist Office, but keep your eye on that cab behind, and tell me presently if it is following us.’
The cabman drove off, and after passing one or two turnings, opened the lid above Hewitt’s head, and said: ‘That there other keb is a-follerin’ us, sir, an’ keepin’ about even distance all along.’
‘All right; that’s what I wanted to know. Palmer’s now.’ At Palmer’s the clerk who had attended to Laker remembered him very well and described him. He also remembered the wallet, and thought he remembered the umbrella — was practically sure of it, in fact, upon reflection. He had no record of the name given, but remembered it distinctly to be Laker. As a matter of fact, names were never asked in such a transaction, but in this case Laker appeared to be ignorant of the usual procedure, as well as in a great hurry, and asked for the ticket and gave his name all in one breath, probably assuming that the name would be required.
Hewitt got back to his cab, and started for Charing Cross. The cabman once more lifted the lid and informed him that the hansom with the veiled woman in it was again following, having waited while Hewitt had visited Palmer’s. At Charing Cross Hewitt discharged his cab and walked straight to the lost property office. The man in charge knew him very well, for his business had carried him there frequently before.
‘I fancy an umbrella was lost in the station yesterday,’ Hewitt said. ‘It was a new umbrella, silk, with a gnarled gorse-root handle and two silver bands, something like this sketch. There was a monogram on the lower band —“C. W. L.” were the letters. Has it been brought here?’
‘There was two or three yesterday,’ the man said; ‘let’s see.’ He took the sketch and retired to a corner of his room. ‘Oh, yes — here it is, I think; isn’t this it? Do you claim it?’ ‘Well,