CHAPTER IV
Next morning the Argus reported that a man had been found dead on a vacant piece of ground near the gaol; that several robberies had been effected by an armed man; and that money, to a large amount, had been stolen. A description of the man was given, which proved to me that he was no other than "Thunder-and-Lightning." There was much excitement in the city; but the climax was reached when it became known, soon after ten o'clock, that the manager of a suburban bank had been found on the premises, gagged, and bound hand and foot. He told an extraordinary story. He had been awakened in the middle of the night by a man, who held a pistol to his ear, and told him that he would be instantly shot if he made the slightest noise. The manager discovered that his arms were already bound by a stout rope, and that he was powerless to resist. Another man came and gagged him, then tied his legs.
The robbers found the key to the safe, and effected an entrance. To their intense disgust they only got about £200 in notes (chiefly tens), £25 in gold, and a little silver. Seeing there was no more money, one of the men gave the manager a blow with the butt end of a pistol, which stunned him. When he recovered the men had decamped. He gave me a description of them, and "Thunder-and-Lightning" was one, without doubt.
I felt very small, for the scoundrel had been within my grasp, and I had let him slip. I made a vow that I would hunt him down and take his life, or lose my own in the attempt.
I obtained a search-warrant, and proceeded to the house I had been watching the night before, picking up three policemen in plain clothes at the local office, and directing two of them to go to the back of the house, while I, with the other man, went to the front. I knocked several times, but got no answer. Then I tried the door; it gave to my touch and flew open. When I let the men in at the back, we searched the place, and found the bird had flown. Looking out of a window, I saw there was a lane running from the public-house I had visited the previous night to the place where I was. Some incidents of yesterday were unravelling.
Leaving the three men, I went out by the front way, and walked to the public-house open and above-board, as bold as brass. I strolled into the parlour, and rang the bell. A frowsy little boy of about twelve years answered my call. He had a pasty face, snub nose, big mouth, greenish eyes, and red hair. I knew a face the very image of it, but I could not remember where I had seen it.
"Did you ring, mate?" the boy said.
"Yes, I'll take a glass of colonial ale."
"All right," he replied, and went away to get it.
Now he had not been gone a minute, when I suddenly remembered whose face he was the image of. He was as like Pat Kineen, our messenger, as two split peas are like each other. I heard him coming back.
"Your name might be Kineen?" I said.
"It is that same, shure!"
"And the other name may be Patsy?"
"Shure, you've hit the bull's-eye! It is."
I had made a bold guess. I said, "I've come from your father. He and I are chums."
"An' what may you want wid me?"
"I want you to take me to a man who is staying here. I know his name, but I was to ask for a man with a big scar on his face."
"I wasn't to tell anybody who didn't give the word."
"Ah, ah! I see. 'Mum' is the word."
"Faith, ye've got it! 'Mum' is the word an' no mistake."
I had stumbled on the right word. The combination had opened the lock.
"Well, take me to him as quick as you can."
"It isn't a him: it's a she. He's gone, he has, this morning."
"Well, take me to her, then. I'm a friend."
I slipped a shilling into his hand, and he led the way, muttering, "You're a gintleman."
He went to the top of the stair, I following, ready to grab him if he tried to bolt. He stopped at a door in a dark passage, and knocked three times, then whispered, "Mum."
The door opened at once. I grasped two hands, and said, "How are you?" then slipped a pair of handcuffs over a woman's wrists.
I went inside and locked the door. I was in a regular trap, for I felt convinced there were some desperate characters in the house who would not stick at a trifle. There was not a moment to lose, so I dragged the woman to the window, threw the sash open, and whistled three times. My men popped their heads out of the door of the house I had left them in, saw me, and came up the lane at a rapid run.
In the meantime the woman screamed and alarmed the house. The door was burst open; a man rushed in and threw himself upon me. Just then, however, my three men ran forward and secured him in a trice.
I had made a haul. The net result was I had caught two fish that were worth catching. I am actually trying to make a pun, which is excusable, as my success was great. For the last twenty-four hours I had been as hard-faced as a dissenting chapel. There hadn't been a smile in me. The game was whist. There wasn't a "joker" in the pack. It was my deal now. I had turned up an honour, and had some good trumps in my hand.
The woman was the one I had followed the night before, and the man was the accomplice of "Thunder-and-Lightning" in the bank robbery. Notes were found in their possession, which were proved by the numbers to have been some of the stolen ones.
The prisoners were lodged in the nearest police station, much to my satisfaction. I walked away on the tips of my toes, and with my head held high. There was exhilaration in the air, and I felt as if I had swallowed a "pick-me-up."
As I returned to the office the conversation I had with Pat Kineen came fresh into my memory. How did he know I was "to go afther the biggest thafe of the wurrld" I should like to know? and why was his son acting as potboy in the hotel? Then Patsy's unguarded admissions pointed to something not yet cleared up. Pat had been got at. I had a bone to pick with him, and I would get into the marrow, so I gnawed away at it, ruminated over it, and digested it.
When I arrived at the office I saw that Pat had had some information of what had taken place. He was trying to hide something. His face looked scared and his hands shook.
"It's a beautiful day, Pat."
"Illigant indade, Misther Wallace," he said, with a curious shake in his voice.
I knocked at the chief's door, went in and shut it, then said in a whisper, "I suspect Pat Kineen of a crime, and wish to arrest him."
"Good heavens! what's the matter?"
"I believe he is at the keyhole now."
I went on tiptoe and put my eye to the hole. A pupil, with anxious inquiry, was trying to solve a problem on the other side. I opened the door and pulled it with all my force. As I expected, Pat fell sprawling into the room.
"What is all this?" said the chief, starting up in a rage.
"This," said I, as cool as a water-melon at four in the morning, "is Pat Kineen, the companion of thieves and a sharer of the plunder."
"Och!" said Pat. "Oi was just clanin' the door-handle whin Misther Wallace pulled me into the room as I was hangin' on to it."
"You'll hang higher than that, Pat, if you don't take care," I said.
"Go away, Pat," said the chief, "and don't hang on to door-handles and get so suspiciously near keyholes again."
"Oh no!" I said; "I arrest him in the Queen's name for being a companion of thieves, and assisting 'Thunder-and-Lightning' to escape."
"Be careful what you are doing, Wallace!" said the chief.
"Oh, I am very careful!" I said; "I've got a tight grip of him."
"The divil take him!" yelled Pat. "If I'd a blackthorn I'd shplit his head wid it."
"Would you kindly see what Pat was hiding in his drawer?" I said to the chief.
He went at once, Pat and I following.
"In that corner," said I, pointing to the left-hand side.
"Here is a £10 note," said the chief.
"What is the number?"
"21,105."
"Whist!" said Pat to me; "don't tell an' I'll give you fifty pounds."
I paid no heed to him, but said, "That is one of the notes stolen from the bank."
"Me mother's first cousin's sister's son," said Pat, stammering wildly, "giv' me that for change av a sovereign this marnin'!"
"You'll get your change in your sovereign's gaol for three years, note that!" I said. I can't help making a pun or two when I'm in high spirits, even if they are bad ones. I was elated with my success, and no mistake. This is the only excuse I have.
I may as well say here that the woman was found guilty of receiving some of the stolen notes. The man I arrested in the hotel was found guilty of robbing the bank. It was proved that Pat had warned "Thunder-and-Lightning," and had been rewarded by getting a share of the stolen money. Heavy sentences were passed upon them, with hard labour.
This was my first big case. I was complimented on all sides, and got promotion with a good salary tagged on.