The shadow of the Wolf

by R. Austin Freeman

“I will, certainly,” Thorndyke replied; “and, by the way, what are you going to do? Shall you issue any further advertisement?”

“I had not intended to,” said Penfield; “but perhaps it would be well to try to elicit a further reply. I might ask Purcell to send a receipt for the legacy, which I shall pay into his bank. He knows the amount, so that I need not state it.”

“I think that would be advisable,” said Thorndyke; “but my impression is that there will be no reply.”

“Well, we shall see,” said Penfield, rising and drawing on his gloves. “If an answer comes, you shall see it, and if there is no answer, I will advise you to that effect. You will agree with me that we keep our own counsel about the matters that we have discussed;” and as Thorndyke assented, he added: “of course the actual receipt of the letter is no secret.”

With this and a stiff handshake Mr. Penfield took his departure, cogitating profoundly as he wended his way eastward, wondering how much Thorndyke really knew about those unfortunate enclosures and how he came by his knowledge.

Meanwhile Thorndyke, as soon as he was alone, resumed his examination of the letter, calling in now the aid of more exact methods. Placing on the table a microscope specially constructed for examining documents, he laid the envelope on the stage and inspected the post-mark at the point where the tail of the l touched it. The higher magnification at once resolved any possible uncertainty. The written line was on top of the post-mark beyond all doubt. But it also brought another anomaly into view. It was now evident that the indentation of the post-mark did not coincide with the whole width of the printed line. The indented line was somewhat narrower. It consisted of a furrow, deepest in the middle, which followed the printed line but did not completely occupy it, and in one or two places strayed slightly outside it. On turning the envelope over and testing the other post-mark, the same peculiarity was observable. The indentation was a thing separate from the printed mark and had been produced by a separate operation; apparently with a bluntly-pointed tool; which would account for its excessive depth.

It was an important discovery in two respects. First it confirmed the other evidence that the letter had never been posted; and, secondly, it threw some light on the means by which the post-mark had been produced. What was the object of the indentation? Evidently to imitate the impression of metal types and disguise the method that had actually been used.

What was that method? It was not photography, for the marks were in printers’ ink. It was not copperplate, for the engraved plate throws up a line in relief, whereas these lines were flat like the lines of a lithograph. In fact lithography appeared to be the only alternative; and with this view the appearances agreed completely, particularly the thick, black ink, quite different from the rather fluid ink used by the Post Office.

From the post-marks Thorndyke now transferred his attention to the writing. He had been struck by the exact resemblance of the name “Penfield” on the envelope to the same name in the letter. Each was a perfect facsimile of the other. Placing them together, he could not see a single point of difference or variation between them. With a delicate caliper-gauge he measured the two words, taking the total length, the height of each letter and the distance between various points. In all cases the measurements were practically identical. Now such perfect repetition as this does not happen in natural writing. It is virtually diagnostic of forgery; of a forgery by means of a careful tracing from an original. And Thorndyke had no doubt that this was such a forgery.

Confirmation was soon forthcoming. An exploration with the microscope of the surfaces of the envelope and the letter showed in both a number of minute spindle-shaped fragments of rubber. Something had been rubbed out. Then, on examining the words by transmitted light powerful enough to turn the jet-black writing into a deep purple, there could be seen through the ink a broken grey line—the remains of a pencil line which the ink had partly protected from the rubber. Similar remains of a pencil tracing were to be seen in other parts of the letter, especially in the signature. In short there was no possible doubt that the whole production, letter and post-marks alike, was a forgery.