“The numerous witnesses to this act of gallantry were unanimous in their chorus of praise of the pluck shown by the hero, and we are enabled by the kindness of Mrs. Hobbs to furnish the following short account of her husband—Police-Constable Hobbs is a native of Bethnal Green, London, England. He has always been noted for courage and resolution, this being the third life he has saved from drowning. He is, moreover, a man of education, being a B.A. of London University, and qualified by his mental attainments for a far higher position than that at present held by him. It is one of the anomalies of Colonial life, that some of our best men have to commence life in such subordinate positions as that held by Police-Constable Hobbs. As a swimmer he is no mean exponent, having been for three years previous to leaving the old country champion and captain of the Serpentine Swimming Club; as an athlete he had few equals, either at quoits or the more active game of rounders. We certainly think the attention of the authorities should be drawn—more particularly the Royal Humane Society—to the meritorious conduct of this officer. True courage and ability such as his call for more than the usual perfunctory meed of thanks.
“As to the crime itself, we have no further development to make public. Speculation is rife, and the police, as usual, are said to ‘have a clue.’ If so, they preserve a most frigid reticence on the point. During the day the rear and front of the house have been surrounded by the customary gaping crowd, and it has been found necessary to detail an additional constable to preserve order in the neighbourhood. The inquest, which was to have been held to-day, has been postponed until to-morrow to allow of the more perfect recovery of Mrs. Booth.”
* * * * *
In consideration of his immersion in the harbour, P.-C. Hobbs was allowed a day off from his duties, and he readily seized the opportunity to pursue his investigations as to the origin of the crime.
The view of his wife, that the murder was not a woman’s murder, strongly influenced him. He was further impressed in Mrs. Booth’s favour by the fact that popular opinion, backed by Detective Dobell, generally condemned her. Popular opinion, said Mr. Hobbs to himself, is an ass. It sees no further than the end of its nose. Because the door was locked and bolted, then, forsooth, the woman must be guilty. But would a guilty person have so locked and bolted the door? Would they not rather have left it open so as to admit others to suspicion, and not fastened it, and suspicion too, on themselves? For the crime was premeditated, the knife was not a common one, and must have been procured on purpose by some person versed in anatomy. It was, in fact, more of a skewer than a knife, such a skewer as is used in ham and beef shops to join together the pieces of brisket.
That door unfastened would have meant the inclusion of the whole household in the range of doubt—a sharing of the burden of suspicion that would be comparatively light to bear. Of course, it was true that even the cleverest criminals often committed the greatest blunders, and such might be the case in the present instance. But was it not more reasonable to suppose that the criminal had himself refastened the door; the lock was a common one, and worked easily; a pair of pliers to grasp it, with the help of a skeleton key, would have both unlocked and locked it from the outside. Then there was the bolt. Certainly that was a puzzle, but one that could be solved must be solved.
At any rate, he would go to Sydney and interview these boarders; and David Israel, the clerk, his statement required sifting. It was a curious accident if these two crimes were not in some way connected. He found the first address in his pocket-book—
SCHNIDER BROTHERS,
Clarence Street,
Wholesale Importers of Jewellery and
Fancy Goods.
A few minutes’ walk took him to Clarence Street, and in answer to his inquiry he was promptly ushered into a back office, where two fair gentlemen were seated at a huge desk.