CHAPTER X.
PIECING THE EVIDENCE.
Sturgis was still busy with his diagram. He spoke without looking up from his work.
"Who besides yourself has a key to the drawer in which this revolver is kept?"
"The cashier has one and the head bookkeeper has another."
"You mean the bookkeeper who sits at the desk at the extreme right in the bookkeepers' department?"
"Yes," replied Dunlap, "that is Mr. Arbogast's desk. Do you know him?"
"No. What did you say the gentleman's name is?" The reporter looked up and prepared to make a note of it.
"John W. Arbogast."
"A man something over fifty years of age, quite bald, with a fringe of gray hair; wears a heavy moustache and side-whiskers; and had on yesterday afternoon, when you last saw him, a pepper-and-salt business suit," said Sturgis, writing down the name in his note book.
Dunlap stared at the reporter in amazement. Sturgis smiled slightly.
"I met the gentleman yesterday afternoon," he explained.
"Oh! that accounts for it," exclaimed the banker. "I see——but——but then, how comes it that you did not know his name?"
"He did not tell me his name," said Sturgis gravely, "and I did not know until just now that he was employed in the Knickerbocker bank. How long has he been with you?"
"Nearly twenty years; but only for the last five years as head bookkeeper."
"I suppose you have every confidence in his honesty?" asked the reporter, looking critically at the diagram before him.
"Of course. Such a position is not given to a man unless his record is excellent."
"And yet," observed the reporter reflectively, "opportunity sometimes makes the thief."
"True; but the duty of a bank president is to reduce such opportunities to a minimum," said Dunlap somewhat pompously.
"Quite so," assented Sturgis, "and this you accomplish by——"
"By having the books examined periodically," answered the banker, rubbing his hands together with calm satisfaction.
"I see," said the reporter, who had now finished his sketch. "Do the employés of the bank know when an examination of this kind is to be made?"
"They do not even know that such examinations are made. No one but the accountant and myself are in the secret; for the overhauling of the books is done entirely at night, after the bank is closed."
"Have the books been recently examined?" asked Sturgis carelessly.
"Yes; only last week."
"Well?"
"They were found to be all right as usual."
"May I ask by whom?"
"By Murray and Scott, the expert accountants."
"Was the examination conducted by Mr. Murray or by Mr. Scott?"
"By neither. For many years the work was done by one or the other of the members of the firm; but since their business has grown to its present proportions, Messrs. Murray and Scott are no longer able to give personal attention to their customers. For the last two years they have sent us a trusted employé, Mr. Chatham——Thomas Chatham."
"Yes," said Sturgis, who was apparently wool-gathering.
A silence of several minutes followed, during which the reporter thoughtfully inspected his collection of microscopic odds and ends, while Dunlap beat the devil's tattoo upon the desk.
Presently the reporter spoke again.
"Do you know a young man, about five feet eight inches tall, with fiery red hair, who affects somewhat loud clothes?"
"Why, that is Thomas Chatham. You know him, then?"
"I? No; I never heard of him before."
"Then, how on earth do you know——?"
"He has been here recently."
"Yes; I told you he had been here last week; but——"
"No; I mean he was here yesterday afternoon," interrupted the reporter.
"Not to my knowledge," said Dunlap incredulously.
"I thought as much," Sturgis replied quietly; "but he was here, for all that."
The banker looked perplexed.
"Now, another thing," continued Sturgis. "I notice in the bookkeepers' department an announcement to the effect that on January second,—that is to say, to-morrow,—a new system of bookkeeping will be adopted. Would this be such as to bring to light any irregularities that might exist in the books?"
"Yes; it involves the transfer of each bookkeeper every month to a different set of books. But I fail to see the drift of your questions."
"You will see it presently. Have you examined the safes this morning?"
"Yes; one of the first things I did, after you allowed me to move at all, was to examine the cash safe."
"Ah, yes; the cash safe. And you found its contents intact?"
"Perfectly," said the banker triumphantly.
"But there is also a safe in the bookkeepers' department."
"It contains nothing but the books, which of course would have no value to any one but ourselves."
"You have not examined this safe?"
"Why, no; I——"
"If you have no objection, I should like to see the interior of that safe. I suppose, of course, you know the combination of that as well as that of the cash safe?"
"Oh, yes; the combinations are changed every Saturday, and of course I am always informed of the new combination."
"Then may I examine the bookkeepers' safe?"
"I see no objection to your doing so, if you like."
Dunlap seemed surprised at the reporter's request; but he rose and proceeded to the bookkeepers' department. Sturgis followed an instant later.
When the reporter came within sight of the safe, Dunlap was closely inspecting the lock. Presently he uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"What is it?" asked Sturgis.
"I don't understand it," said Dunlap. "I cannot open the safe. The lock seems all right; but——"
"Perhaps the combination has been changed."
"Apparently it has," admitted the banker; "but how came it to be changed on a week day, and without my knowledge?"
"That is rather significant, isn't it?" suggested the reporter.
"Significant? What do you mean?" exclaimed Dunlap excitedly.
"I mean that Arbogast was a defaulter. What his system of defrauding the bank was, I do not yet know; but an examination of the books will no doubt reveal this; and I should advise you, Mr. Dunlap, to lose no time in having it made."
"But," argued Dunlap anxiously, "I tell you the books were examined last week."
"Yes; by Arbogast's accomplice."
"What, Chatham his accomplice?" exclaimed Dunlap faintly.
"Chatham was in the plot beyond a doubt," answered Sturgis. "So long as no one had access to his books except his accomplice Chatham, of course Arbogast felt secure. But when, yesterday, the announcement was made that after the beginning of the new year his books would pass to the custody of another man, he saw that the game was up."
The men had returned to the president's office.
"Those are his very words," continued the reporter; "those he telegraphed to Chatham yesterday, as you will see if you hold before that mirror this sheet of blotting paper which I found on Arbogast's desk."
Dunlap, with an unsteady hand, took the blotting paper; and, holding it before the glass, studied the reflection intently.
"What do you make out?" asked Sturgis.
"Nothing whatever," replied the banker promptly.
"What?" exclaimed the reporter; "do you mean to say that you do not distinguish any marks on the blotting paper?"
"I mean to say that I do not see anything to which I can attach any semblance of a meaning. The blotting paper has been used, and, of course, there are ink marks upon it; but, as far as I can see, these are wholly disconnected. They are entirely void of sense to my eyes, at any rate."
"Examine the blotter again carefully in this direction," said Sturgis, drawing an imaginary line upon the mirror, "and pay no attention to any other marks which seem to cross these lines. Now do you see anything?"
The banker examined the image in the mirror for some time before replying.
"If I allow my imagination to enter into play, I can complete several isolated letters."
"Will you dictate these while I note them here. Be careful to distinguish between capital and lower-case letters. Also separate the lines, and state whether letters come close together or are separated by a space."
"Very well," agreed Dunlap, who then proceeded to read off the letters he saw in the reflection of the blotter in the mirror.
When he had finished, Sturgis handed him the paper, upon which were transcribed the letters he had dictated. They presented the appearance shown below:
"Well," said the banker, "if you can make anything out of that gibberish, your imagination is more active than mine."
"It is not a question of imagination," said Sturgis; "let us proceed systematically. Here is a telegram blank detached from a pad I found on Arbogast's desk. Compare its size with the outline of the marks on the blotter, and you will see, in the first place, that the message would just fit snugly on this sheet. Next, you will probably admit that the first line of marks on the blotter probably contain a date; the second, a name; the third, an address; the last, a signature, and the intermediate lines a message."
"I am quite willing to concede so much; for no business man would be likely to write a telegram differently."
"Very well. Now, then, let me hold this blank so that the reflection of its vertical rulings may appear just above the image of the message. These lines, remember, separate the words of the message. Extend them mentally and note how they divide the letters of the blotter. Will you hold these sheets while I transcribe the result?"
In a few minutes more the reporter had drawn several lines on his copy of the reflection in the mirror.
"I don't see that you are any better off now than you were before," remarked Dunlap, examining the result.
"Wait a minute. These vertical lines, we say, divide the words of the message. There are five words to the line; only two on the last line before the signature; that is to say, twelve words in the message. Now, consider the first word. Evidently the 'G' begins this word, since it is a capital; and the flourish on the tail of the 'e' tells us plainly enough where the word ends. Note the space between the 'G' and the 'e.' Have you ever taken the trouble to ascertain how constant in any given handwriting is the space occupied by the different letters? Try it some time. Count the characters which you have written in a number of different lines, reckoning spaces and punctuation marks each as one character, and observe how closely the results will tally. Basing my conclusion on this fact, I may safely affirm that the first word of the message is 'Game, 'Gave, 'Give, ' or some other word of four letters beginning with 'G' and ending with 'e.' I shall proceed to fill up the balance of the message as I read it between the letters."
Sturgis wrote slowly and carefully for a few minutes.
"There; behold the result."
The message had now assumed this form:
"Compare this with the reflection of the original and tell me if you do not now detect various isolated marks and incomplete letters, all of which tally with the text I have inserted here."
Dunlap made the comparison.
"I am obliged to admit that your conclusions now appear plausible," he reluctantly admitted.
Sturgis shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, call them plausible and let us proceed. Chatham kept the appointment yesterday; but for some reason Arbogast was delayed in leaving the bank. Perhaps the necessary preparations for his flight took longer than he expected."
"You think he intended to abscond?"
"Why should he have changed the combination of his safe, as he did, if not to give himself as much time as possible to reach a place of comparative safety before the books could be examined?" asked Sturgis. "Chatham, becoming impatient, forgot the dictates of prudence and started for the bank to ascertain the cause of his accomplice's delay. He met Arbogast at the Wall Street door. The two men re-entered, Arbogast setting down his satchel in the vestibule and leaving the outer door ajar, as Quinlan found it a few minutes later, when he stole the satchel. I have every reason to believe that it was at Chatham's request that the men returned. He wished to use the telephone, and he did so."
"Your story is connected, and it is certainly not lacking in details," said Dunlap incredulously; "in fact, the details are far too abundant for the evidence thus far advanced."
"Every one of the details is based upon facts," replied Sturgis. "What I have accomplished thus far has been simple enough, because luck has favored us. Yesterday being cleaning day at the bank, the floors were scrubbed some time during the afternoon, before Arbogast was ready to leave and before Chatham had arrived. It thus happens that almost every footstep of the two men has remained faintly but distinctly outlined upon the wet floors, which have since dried, preserving the record. The detectives last night obliterated a portion of this record; but they have left traces enough for our purpose. If you care to crawl around on all fours as I did you can readily distinguish these traces for yourself."
"No, thank you," answered the banker. "I prefer to take your word for this part of the evidence."
"Then I shall resume my story," said Sturgis. "The footprints show that Arbogast stood at his desk while the scrubbing was going on. We may safely say that it was after half-past four o'clock when he started to leave the bank; for otherwise it is presumable that Chatham would have waited for him at the corner of South and Wall Streets, as he was asked to do in the bookkeeper's telegram. He first walked over to the safe and closed it, changing the combination, so that the lock could not be opened until he had had a fair start. Next he went to the clerks' room for his hat and coat and for the satchel in which he had packed just the few necessaries for immediate use in his flight. He started to leave the building through the Exchange Place door; but probably remembered that the Wall Street door was not locked, and went back to lock it. As he was about to close the outer door, Chatham arrived on the scene, and the two men re-entered, as we have already seen. The footprints tell their story fully and absolutely, their chronological order being established by the occasional obliteration of a footprint in one trail by another in a subsequent trail. The two men walked back into the room in which we now are. Their actions after this will be clearer to you if you will follow on this diagram."