CHAPTER XVA DOCUMENT OF IMPORTANCE

It was a copy, and not the original, of this pitiful letter which I found in the cigar-case, as was evident from the fact that the document was in Green’s handwriting, and to this I attached some importance.

As matters stood itlookedas if Green had in some way contrived to intercept Mullen’s correspondence; and it also looked as if, after making himself acquainted with the contents of Mullen’s letters, Green had carefully resealed them and let them go on to the person for whom they were intended. That he must have had some reason for not retaining in his possession what might prove so valuable a piece of evidence was very clear, and after thinking the matter over I came to the following conclusion.

Although Mullen had given an address to which a letter might be sent to him by his sister, it was not likely that he himself was actually to be found at that address. On thecontrary, it was more than probable that he had arranged some complicated and roundabout system of reforwarding correspondence, so that even if the police should find out the address to which the letter was sent, they would still have before them the difficult task of tracing the letter to the address to which it had been reforwarded, and perhaps again reforwarded, before they could come to the actual hiding-place of the fugitive, who in the meantime would get wind of what was going on and would promptly decide that it was high time for him to change his quarters. And I felt tolerably sure that his manner of making a change would be like that of certain sea-fowl who, upon the approach of an enemy, dive out of sight beneath the water, where they twist and turn and eventually come up far out of reach and range, and in any other direction than that in which they are looked for.

Hence it was possible that though Green had succeeded, as I say, either in intercepting or obtaining access to Mullen’s correspondence, he might not be any nearer to discovering the criminal’s actual whereabouts. But if Green merely took a copy of this letter and then let it go on to Mullen, the latter would very likelyfall into the trap of keeping the appointment which he had made with his sister, and could then be arrested and handed over to justice. For though his sister had—lest the letter should fall into other hands than those for which it was intended—cautiously refrained from mentioning her own or her husband’s name, or from giving any address except that of a foreign town, she had, woman-like, forgotten that there were not likely to be many large steam yachts belonging to an English gentleman, whose wife was in bad health, lying at the same moment off such a place as Stavanger. An experienced inquiry agent like Green would have no difficulty in learning the name of such a vessel and of its owner; and that he had taken steps to obtain the necessary information was very clear from the second document which I found in his cigar-case. Here it is—

Viscount Dungannon,shot in U. S. A.in 1881,}and{Mary HatherwickCoyne, daughter ofJohn Coyne, Esq.,of Galway,had son,known as James Cross, who afterwardsassumed the name of James Mullen.——:——This MaryHatherwick Coyne(d. 1880){was afterwards married to}Henry Cross(d. 1886);and had daughter,Flora Hatherwick Cross, b. 1865;m. in 1885 to Stanley Burgoyne, Esq.

Viscount Dungannon,shot in U. S. A.in 1881,}and{Mary HatherwickCoyne, daughter ofJohn Coyne, Esq.,of Galway,

Viscount Dungannon,shot in U. S. A.in 1881,

}

and

{

Mary HatherwickCoyne, daughter ofJohn Coyne, Esq.,of Galway,

had son,known as James Cross, who afterwardsassumed the name of James Mullen.——:——

had son,known as James Cross, who afterwardsassumed the name of James Mullen.

——:——

This MaryHatherwick Coyne(d. 1880){was afterwards married to}Henry Cross(d. 1886);

This MaryHatherwick Coyne(d. 1880)

{

was afterwards married to

}

Henry Cross(d. 1886);

and had daughter,Flora Hatherwick Cross, b. 1865;m. in 1885 to Stanley Burgoyne, Esq.

The meaning of this document—a document which affords some interesting data to the student of heredity—evidently was that James Mullen was the illegitimate son of the famous, and also infamous, Lord Dungannon by a Miss Mary Coyne, the daughter of an Irish gentleman. The fact that Miss Coyne had been seduced and had given birth to a child had probably been kept a secret, for if Green’s notes were correct she had afterwards married a Mr. Henry Cross, by whom she had a daughter, Flora (now Mrs. Stanley Burgoyne), who was therefore Mullen’s half-sister, and the writer of the letter a copy of which I had found in Green’s cigar-case.

How Green had contrived to find out the address to which Mullen was having his letters sent there was no evidence to show. Whether it was due to a singularly lucky fluke or to his own astuteness I could not say, and am not likely ever to know, but I quite realised andunderstood that it was possible for him to have made such a discovery. And I recognised and understood also that, after having read the letter which gave him the clue to Mullen’s connection with Mrs. Stanley Burgoyne, the other facts which he had ferreted out in regard to Mullen’s parentage would not be difficult to arrive at. What I couldnotunderstand, however, was by what means he had succeeded in intercepting Mullen’s letters. If Green had been an official from Scotland Yard he would no doubt be allowed to intercept letters which might be written by or addressed to suspected persons, but that the postal authorities would permit a private inquiry agent to tamper with their mail bags was not to be entertained. That Green was staying in the same house as Mullen, and was able in that way to lay hands on the latter’s correspondence, was very unlikely. Nor was it likely that my late inquiry agent had succeeded in bribing a postman, for though it may not be impossible to find dishonest postmen, the odds are very much against finding the dishonest man in the one particular office with the mails of which one wishes to tamper.

A far more probable theory was that which had at first occurred to me, namely, that the letters had been directed to the care of a tobacconist, or, more likely still, of a hairdresser. It is matter of common knowledge that many hairdressers add to their business takings by allowing letters, on each of which a fee of one penny is charged, to be addressed to their care. Though generally implying a not very creditable connection, these letters are, as a rule, of no more criminal character than assignations with people to whom the recipient has thought it unadvisable to give his real name or address, or whose letters he is anxious should not come under the notice of his family.

If Green had intercepted the letters at a tobacconist’s shop, the first thing to find out was where that tobacconist’s shop was situated, and the only way to do so would be to trace the inquiry agent’s recent movements. Hence I decided that I could not do better than run down to Yarby again and see what could be learned about him. But before I could do this with safety I should have to ascertain whether the body had been found, and whether suspicionsof foul play were entertained, as in that case it would not be advisable to visit the neighbourhood for the present.

The morning paper of the following day settled that point satisfactorily, for on opening my “Daily News” I read the following announcement:—

“Sad Death from Drowning.—Mr. Robert Bakewell Green, a visitor from London, was accidentally drowned at Baxenham, near Yarby, yesterday. The body was discovered late last night on the beach by the Baxenham rural postman. From the fact that the unfortunate man was wearing no boots it is supposed that he had taken them off in order to pursue the pastime—so popular among Cockney visitors to the seaside—of paddling among the small pools left by the last tide. Doctor Ellis, who examined the body, is of opinion that while so engaged the deceased was overcome by faintness and was drowned in quite shallow water, the body being subsequently washed up upon the beach by the incoming tide. An inquest will be held.”

Five minutes after I had read this paragraph I was on my way to catch the next train to Yarby. The reader will remember that Green had given his address as “Care of Mrs. Brand,Elm Cottage, Baxenham,” and my first step was to interview this lady, under the pretence of being a Press representative who had come down to collect further particulars about her late lodger. From Mrs. Brand I learned among other facts that Green had been in the habit of paying frequent visits to Cotley, a seaside town some twenty miles inland.

To Cotley I according betook myself, and curiously enough the very first thing that caught my eye after leaving the station was the legend, “Letters Taken,” displayed in the window of a tobacconist’s shop immediately fronting the booking-office entrance. The door was closed, but as I pushed it open a bell overhead announced the arrival of a customer.

I found myself in a small shop with another room beyond, on the swing doors of which were the words, “To the Hairdressing Saloon.” There was no one behind the counter, nor, so far as I could see, was there any one in thehair-cuttingrooms. But on the counter before me lay half a dozen letters, apparently thrown there by an impatient postman who could not wait for the proprietor’s return. One of them was for “Mr. Robert Bakewell Green,” theinscription being in his own handwriting; another was addressed in a woman’s hand to “Mr. Henry Jeanes,” and I saw that it bore a Norwegian stamp and the Stavanger postmark. Could “Henry Jeanes” be the name under which James Mullen was having letters sent to him?

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