CHAPTERLXXVIII.HUNTING UP EVIDENCE FOR A DIVORCE—MR. SLINGSBY SET TO WORK.While the intrigue was being carried on between Laura Stanbridge and her victim, Tom Gatliffe, Aveline’s grandfather was in deep consultation with his lawyer as to how a divorce was to be obtained for his darling pet, who was by this time moving in the best society, and surrounded by fashionable admirers. Mr. Chicknell did not know very well what course to advise.The earl was persistent in his demands. A divorce he was bent upon having, at all hazards.An opportunity most suddenly and unexpectedly presented itself.Mr. Wrench was commissioned to wait upon the engineer at his house at Wood Green.He called several times, but could not succeed in meeting with the owner of the establishment.He ascertained from the loquacious servant in charge of the place that her master came home only occasionally. She said, in answer to the detective’s persistent inquiries, that Mr. Gatliffe had been for some time past in the habit of remaining in London, in consequence, as she alleged, of pressure of business at the works.Mr. Wrench heard all she had to say, and very soon began to draw his own inference therefrom.“Stays in town, does he?” murmured our astute officer. “Umph! there is some special reason, for this business is all very well in its way, but there may be another cause. Formed some new connection perhaps, illicit love and all that sort of thing. The case looks more promising. If I succeed in finding out anything the earl, my patron, will be in a state of delight, but after all it’s too contemptible and paltry a business for me to be engaged in. Well, we will see what can be done. Something’s in the wind—that’s quite certain. The question is, how is it to be worked?”Attached to the staff of gentlemen of which he (Wrench) was a distinguished ornament was a man who was a sort of supplementary or occasional detective—his name was Slingsby.His services had been frequently called into requisition to hunt up evidence for his superiors. Mr. Slingsby had no objection to push his inquiries in channels where his superiors did not choose to venture. He was a sort of sleuth hound, who would stoop to any mean artifices to obtain the desired information.Mr. Wrench, upon his return home, sent for Slingsby without further ado.“Well,” said the last-named, when he was closeted with his superior, “Naggs said you wanted to see me.”“Naggs was right—sit down,” returned Mr. Wrench.“Anything on hand? Any fresh business?” inquired Slingsby.“Yes; if you will have a little patience you shall hear.”“I’m all attention, sir.”“Very well. In the first place there is a young man named Gatliffe, who is by trade an engineer. He resides at Wood Green.”“I can go there, and soon ascertain about him.”“Don’t you be so fast. I don’t want you to go to Wood Green. To do so would be an act of the greatest imprudence. Besides, I have already been there myself. What I want you to do is to watch him as he leaves his work. He is foreman to an engineer in the Euston-road. I will give you the name of the firm and the number of the house. He generally leaves the works at six in the evening, but sometimes he stops till seven or eight, and indeed on special occasions even later than that; but, as a rule, you will be able to make sure of him between six and seven, or from that to eight. You understand me thus far.”“Oh, perfectly. I quite understand, Mr. Wrench.”“Very well. What I want you to do is this—when he leaves, follow him and notice where he goes to. It’s probable he may make for the station; in which case push your inquiries no further, as you may rest assured that he is about to return to his own home.”“But if he doesn’t do so?”“If he does not, follow him and see where he goes to. This done, come to me.”“And what’s he been up to—forgery or something of that sort, I suppose?”“Nothing of the kind. He has not done anything wrong—at all events, nothing against the law.”“What is he wanted for, then?”“He is not wanted. All I require for the present of you is to ascertain where he goes to on the nights he does not return to Wood Green. We have good reason for believing that he has taken up with some woman. Should this be the case we must learn more about it.”“Then that’s all you want me to do at present.”“That is all. Here is the name and address of his governor. Now do your best. I have written underneath the address, between the hours of six and eight, and here is his photograph, by which you will be able to recognise him.”“All right, Mr. Wrench. Never fear, I’ll find out what you want;” and with these words Mr. Slingsby took his departure.On the following night he watched the entrance through which the workpeople passed in and out of the works in the Euston-road.In the course of half-an-hour or so he observed Gatliffe pass through the door, and Mr. Slingsby followed at once. He was, however, much disappointed at finding his man make direct for the railway-station, and had in accordance with his instructions to give up the chase for that night.On the succeeding evening he was again at his post, and very shortly before seven Gatliffe again passed out of the building—this time to look a different direction. He walked on westwards, and entered a coffee-shop, where he remained for about half-an-hour or more, Mr. Slingsby keeping watch and ward on the outside.He saw Gatliffe emerge from the coffee-shop, and then walk on at a smart pace, the detective following at a respectful distance. After this the young engineer went into a hosier’s shop, and purchased a pair of gloves.He then made direct for Covent Garden Theatre, paid the entrance money, and went into the Promenade Concerts.The detective did the same, and kept a sharp eye upon the movements of his man, who in the course of a few minutes was joined by a female, in whose company he remained for the whole of the evening. When the performance was over the two, upon reaching the street, called a four-wheeled cab, into which they both got. When the vehicle was driven off Mr. Slingsby jumped into a hansom, and told the driver to follow the four-wheeler.The driver of the hansom obeyed the order given him, and in the due course of time the four-wheeler was brought to a standstill at the house in the occupation of Miss Stanbridge.Mr. Slingsby saw its two occupants alight and enter the house in question; then he discharged his cab, and watched the house for some considerable time.He saw a light in the parlour, and saw also the shadows of two or three persons, one of which appeared to be that of a man, the others those of females.He remained watching the house for an hour and a half, or perhaps two hours; then, when the front parlour was in darkness he went his way, well satisfied with his night’s adventure.Early on the following morning he waited upon Mr. Wrench to make him acquainted with the successful nature of his expedition.“You have done well, wonderfully well, Slingsby,” said the detective. “Nothing could be better. You are quite certain as to his identity.”“Oh, quite certain—he is the image of the photograph.”“Say, rather the photo is the image of him.”“Yes, it is. There cannot be any mistake as to that; and the lady—do you know her?”“No, never saw her before.”“A fashionable party, I suppose?”“Oh, dear yes, quite up to the knocker.”“Good-looking?”“Yes, she’s what you would call a fascinating sort of woman, and appeared from what I could see of her to be quite the lady. When I say a lady, I mean of course one of doubtful repute.”“Ah, just so. That is no more than I expected. So much the better.”“The better?”“Certainly, the matter will be more easily worked.”“Most likely; but what is to be my next proceeding?”“You have to watch him again, and see if he pays another visit to this establishment. When this has been done we will consider our next course of procedure.”Mr. Slingsby acted in accordance with the instructions given him by his superior.He was at the works in the Euston-road on the following night, but the result was not quite so satisfactory. Tom Gatliffe went to the railway-station, and made for his home at Wood Green.He did the same on the following evening, but Mr. Slingsby did not despair. He kept his man steadily in view, and never missed a single night from his post.All this time Gatliffe was in ignorance of the surveillance which was kept over him.On the third night he bent his steps in the direction of Laura Stanbridge’s residence, the detective following at a respectful distance.The gentle rap which Gatliffe gave at the door caused it to be opened by the servant girl, when without a word the visitor entered.Mr. Slingsby remained curling his heels on the pavement on the opposite side of the street.Presently the owner of the house came out with her admirer.Mr. Slingsby judged rightly enough that the two were going to some place of entertainment. He did not deem it expedient to follow them, but went his way, and returned to his post a little before eleven o’clock.In about half an hour after that time the lady and gentleman returned, the former letting herself and her companion in with a latch-key.A gleam of light shot from the parlour window as on the first occasion, and Mr. Slingsby watched the house until he concluded all the inmates had retired to bed, then he returned to his own lodgings, very well satisfied with his night’s work.“It is pretty clear we have run him to earth,” said Mr. Wrench, when his emissary made him acquainted with all the facts which had come to his knowledge. “You have done this job to-rights, Slingsby. Everything is satisfactory, as far as it goes, but, of course, much remains to be done. For the present, however, let the matter rest till I have seen my employer; then I will let you know how to act. Say nothing to anybody; keep quite quiet, and we shall win in a hand canter.”“All right, sir; I am to do nothing till I hear from you.”“Nothing whatever.”When Mr. Slingsby had taken his departure, Mr. Wrench rubbed the palms of his hands together in great glee.“Ah, I wasn’t far out in my surmise!” he ejaculated. “I thought there was a woman in the case. Well, I should never have thought it of him, for, to say the truth, he appeared to be altogether a different sort of man; but, Lord, one never knows whom to place faith in. Still he seemed so discreet, so high-minded, so far removed from temptation. But, then, after all, it is but a natural consequence. Here’s a fine handsome young fellow finds himself suddenly deserted by one who, if the truth must be told, ought to have cleaved to him through good and bad fortune. Yes, it is but natural that he should form another connection, and it is withal most fortunate, as far as we are concerned.”He put on his hat and gloves, and sallied forth.He made the best of his way to Mr. Chicknell’s chambers.The lawyer was perfectly staggered when he heard the news.“You don’t mean it? Can it be possible?” he ejaculated.“Fact, sir—an indisputable fact.”“Do you think he is living in open adultery with this woman?”“I fear—or rather I fancy so.”“Umph! sit down. Pray, be seated, Mr. Wrench. The earl must know of this; he will be most delighted.”“There’s but little doubt of that, sir.”“None—none in the least, Wrench. Dear me, you have done well. The only obstacle in our way is at once suddenly and unexpectedly removed.”“Not quite.”“Eh, what do you mean?”“We must have proofs.”“Ah, true. But these are easily obtainable, I suppose, eh?”“I don’t suppose there will be any great difficulty in the matter; but as yet only half our task is accomplished.”“Umph! Certainly that’s right enough, and the other half, as you term it, is perhaps the most difficult part.”“It must be managed, sir—that’s all I know.”“Yes, most decidedly; that is quite clear. The earl has the highest opinion of your ability and discretion. He speaks in the most flattering terms of your—ahem!—your wonderful powers of penetration.”“Does he? I am sure I am much obliged to his lordship for his good opinion of me,” cried the detective, with a short laugh.“Oh, I am not joking, Wrench. Don’t imagine that,” observed the lawyer.“I don’t for a moment suppose you are, sir.”“And so he’s taken up with a woman of doubtful repute—has he? Dear me, it seems almost incredible.”“Well, it’s only as we suppose at present, sir. As I said before, proofs are necessary. It would never do to jump hastily at a conclusion. I have never been accustomed to do that.”“No, no, of course not. That we know perfectly well; and so, upon second consideration, it would be perhaps just as well to hold the matter over for the present, and not mention the subject to the earl till we have clearer evidence.”“I should not do so, not till such time as we are more certain of our bird. He will fall into the web, I dare say, in good time.”“And what do you propose doing then?” inquired the lawyer.“Well, sir, that is the reason for my waiting upon you. He has been seen in places of public resort with this woman; he has been seen entering the house with her, and there is every reason to suppose that he has remained there all night; but this, as you know, is not positive evidence. We must have more than this.”“Certainly; that is quite clear—much more. Do you know any of the inmates—any servant in the house?”Mr. Wrench shook his head, and said, “Not a soul—not one person.”“There is a servant, of course, or servants?”“Only one, I believe.”“Oh! only one—eh?”“As far as I have been able to ascertain.”“And is she to be got at? Most domestic servants are.”“Well, that remains to be seen. I have not made any attempt to enlist her in our service, and for this reason: should she be faithful to her mistress—which is more than likely—it would be putting them on their guard.”“Just so; that is clear enough, Wrench. Well, I cannot do better than leave it in your hands. You know what is requisite—proofs, clear and unmistakeable proofs, that he has committed adultery.”“When I obtain further information I will see you again,” returned the detective, as he left the lawyer’s chambers.Mr. Wrench pondered over the matter.At present he could not very well see his way. He had, as he termed it, a delicate and difficult bit of steerage.A rash or imprudent step might ruin all.He was by no means disposed to tamper with Miss Stanbridge’s servant. He had ascertained that she had been a long time with her present mistress, and the people in the neighbourhood said she was “true as steel.”The detective, therefore, concluded possibly enough that the girl might prove a troublesome customer.He sent for Mr. Slingsby, with whom he had a long consultation.In the end it was agreed between the two that other attempts should be made before having recourse to the servant for information.Mr. Wrench now came to the front. He watched the house in the occupation of Laura Stanbridge, and made several inquiries in the neighbourhood in a careless manner.He ascertained by the merest accident that a charwoman was occasionally engaged by the maid servant to clean the house and do the rough work of the establishment.This was just the sort of person Mr. Wrench was desirous to meet with.A few shillings would go a long way with a woman of that description, and the chances were that she had a tongue, which she could make very good use of.He had ascertained that she was known as Mrs. Mumms, that she was a widow, with a son and a daughter. The son was shopboy to a greengrocer in Jermyn-street, the daughter was in service in one of the western suburbs—Richmond or Twickenham it was said—but there was no positive certainty as to this.Mr. Wrench elected to try the son, to begin with. He went to the greengrocer’s where he worked, and bought some fruit, had the satisfaction of seeing the lad in question, but he did not deem it advisable to make any inquiries of him at that time—he awaited a more fitting opportunity.On the following morning he paced up and down Jermyn-street till he saw young Mumms come out with his basket on his arm.Mr. Wrench waited till he came by his side, then he said—“Hold hard for a moment—I want to ask you a question.”“Yes, sir,” said the lad, coming to a halt.“Do you happen to know the name Crowdace in this neighbourhood?”“Can’t say I do. What street does he live in?”“I have been told he lives in Ryle-street.”“Don’t know the name.”“Sure?”“Quite sure.”“Do you know the name of Stanbridge?”“Oh, yes, I know that name. I’ll show you where she lives if you want her. I shall have to pass the house.”“I don’t want to see her. What I want to know is, has she a lodger with her of the name of Crowdace?”The name of the gentleman whom the detective was inquiring for was of course a pure invention.“I never heard that she had, but mother will be able to tell you; she works there occasionally.”“Is there any gentleman lodger there?”“Well, there you bother me. She don’t take no lodgers, I believe, but there is a gentleman or two there occasionally.“Is she a married lady?”“I don’t know as she’s what you might term a married lady, but still she may be for aught I know; but mother will be able to tell you more about it.”“Where does your mother live?”“Close by here; I’ll show you if you like.”“Do—there’s a good chap.”Mr. Wrench slipped a shilling into the boy’s hand, for which he appeared to be duly grateful.He took the detective to a narrow court, and halted in front of a dirty-looking house with five bell handles one above the other on the side of the doorway.He rang the third bell, whereupon a woman, wiping the soap suds from her bare arms with her apron, made her appearance in the passage.“Mother, a gentleman wants to speak to you,” said the greengrocer’s assistant, as he left to go his rounds.“Your sarvint, sir,” said Mrs. Mumms, coming forward.“Oh, your son informs me that you know Miss Stanbridge. Is that so?”“Yes, sir, I work for her at times.”“Ah, just so. Do you happen to know if she has had a gentleman named Crowdace lodging at her house?”The woman shook her head.“I never heard the name before,” said she.“And you don’t know, I suppose, whether there is anyone of that name lodging in the same street?”“Well, sir, not as I’ve overheard. There may be, but its unbeknown to me, if there is.”“My object is simply this. A gentleman of that name is missing, and his friends are anxious to ascertain something about him.”“Ah, I’m sorry I can’t tell you.”“Will you be kind enough to make inquiries in the neighbourhood for me? If you succeed you will be handsomely rewarded.”“I’ll do my best.”“Good. Here is a card with the name written thereon. Good morning, Mrs. Mumms.”“Will you call again, sir?”“Most certainly I will, in a day or two.”This was certainly going a most roundabout way to obtain the desired information, but Mr. Wrench’s object was to throw the woman off her guard.There could be no possible harm in his inquiring for a fictitious individual. His doing so would not arouse suspicion. In the due course of time he hoped to have Mrs. Mumms as an ally.He called again upon her; of course no such person could be found. He gave her five shillings for her trouble, and engaged her on the day as charwoman to his own establishment.She came and cleared up his house. He treated her liberally—gave her a plentiful supply of beer and gin, and she was greatly pleased with her new employer.She went her ways, and in about a fortnight was again hired by our cunning detective.In the evening she was directed by Mrs. Wrench to dust and clean her husband’s library. While she was occupied with this task Mr. Wrench entered. The charwoman was about to withdraw, but the detective requested her to remain.“Don’t go, Mrs. Mumms,” said Wrench. “I want to have a little conversation with you. Sit down.”The woman looked a little surprised, or it might be alarmed, but did as she was requested.Mr. Wrench closed the door of the room, and then took a seat himself. As a preliminary, he insisted upon his companion taking a glass of something short. This done, he proceeded to business.“I cannot find the person of whom I am in search,” said he. “Will you just answer one or two questions. Mind you, I will make it worth your while. I don’t expect anybody to work for nothing.”“In course not, sir. You’re a different sort of gentleman to that.”“Well, you see, Mrs. Mumms, it has occurred to me that probably the party to whom I allude is passing under a different name.”“Likely enough, sir; but I hope as how he aint bin doing anything wrong.”“Oh, dear me, no such thing. But, now, tell me—there is a gentleman living at the house owned by Miss Stanbridge, or has been, eh?”“She’s always had a relation—a cousin or nephew I believe he is—living with her. She brought him up from a mere lad, so I’ve been told, but he aint there so much as he used to be, and of late I’ve not seen much of him.”“Ah! a relation, eh?”“Yes; so I believe, but he’s not the party you are in search of. He’s been there for years.”“And is not there somebody else?”“Yes, lately there has been.”“And do you know his name?”“Certainly—Mr. Gatliffe.”“You’ve been given to understand. Now tell me plainly. This Mr. Gatliffe is living with her not as a lodger but as—Well, you know what I mean, you are a woman of the world, Mrs. Mumms. Please answer me truly.”“I shouldn’t like to say, sir. It aint no business of mine. There’s a good many couple a living together as aint man and wife, but that’s nobody’s business but their two selves. They both on ’em act on the square as far as I’m concerned, and there’s no call for me to round on ’em.”“A very proper observation on your part. I wish everyone had your discretion, Mrs. Mumms; but you need not be afraid of speaking frankly to me. I know they are living together without your telling me so, and you know it.”“S’pose I do, what of that? He’s a fine honourable young fellow as ever stepped in shoe leather, and everybody likes him.”“That is true enough, but he is not there always—only occasionally.”“No, he’s not always there; but I do hope and trust that you don’t intend him any harm.”Mr. Wrench burst out into a loud laugh.“Oh, dear me, no. Harm indeed! Of course not. What could have put that into your head?”“Oh, I begs parding, sir. Meant no offence, but I should be sorry to get anybody into trouble.”“You are not likely to do that. Now answer me one question before you go. See, here are five sovereigns, if you answer me truly.”Mrs. Mumms was astounded at the sight of five sovereigns. Her breath seemed to be taken away.“Do you consent?” cried her companion in a severe tone.“What do you want me to do?”“Speak the truth, that’s all. Mr. Gatliffe and Miss Stanbridge occupy one bedroom when he visits the house. I know they do, but that is one thing—I want to hear it from your lips.”Mrs. Mumms took up the corner of her apron with which she wiped her lips, then her nose, and lastly her eyes.“You hear what I say. Give me the desired information and the five pounds are yours. Why need you hesitate? If you won’t tell me I shall have no difficulty in finding somebody who will, possibly for a tenth part of this sum.”“Well, then, they do occupy but one bedroom.”“In short, he is to all intents and purposes her husband—in every respect but the marriage ceremony?”“I should suppose so, but I do hope you are not going to bring them into trouble. I wish I had not said anything about them.”“Don’t you be alarmed; nobody will interfere with your pair of turtle doves,” observed Mr. Wrench, with a short laugh. “Be of good cheer, Mrs. Mumms, and take up the money.”He handed the gold pieces to his companion, who wrapped them up in a piece of dirty, crumpled paper, and transferred them to her pocket, without saying a word.“What is the name of the girl who is servant to the establishment?” asked the detective, carelessly.“Her name? Oh, Susan.”“Susan what?”“Susan Tarver.”“Thank you.” Mr. Wrench wrote it down on a sheet of note paper which lay on the table before him.“What do you want with her?” cried the charwoman, in a tone of alarm.“I want nothing of her.”“I hope you won’t mention anything about this to Susan—I do hope that.”“I promise you not to do so; neither is it likely, seeing that I don’t know her and have no desire to make her acquaintance.”Mrs. Mumms now rose and left in a state of trepidation, for she half-repented of having given the information for which she had been so liberally paid, but when she got home she was in better spirits and was well satisfied with her day’s work.Mr. Wrench had now obtained as much as was necessary for his purpose, the cumbrous and expensive machinery of the law could be put in motion as soon as Mr. Chicknell and his aristocratic client chose. Mr. Wrench hastened to the lawyer’s office, and after this the sagacious attorney hastened down to Broxbridge.
While the intrigue was being carried on between Laura Stanbridge and her victim, Tom Gatliffe, Aveline’s grandfather was in deep consultation with his lawyer as to how a divorce was to be obtained for his darling pet, who was by this time moving in the best society, and surrounded by fashionable admirers. Mr. Chicknell did not know very well what course to advise.
The earl was persistent in his demands. A divorce he was bent upon having, at all hazards.
An opportunity most suddenly and unexpectedly presented itself.
Mr. Wrench was commissioned to wait upon the engineer at his house at Wood Green.
He called several times, but could not succeed in meeting with the owner of the establishment.
He ascertained from the loquacious servant in charge of the place that her master came home only occasionally. She said, in answer to the detective’s persistent inquiries, that Mr. Gatliffe had been for some time past in the habit of remaining in London, in consequence, as she alleged, of pressure of business at the works.
Mr. Wrench heard all she had to say, and very soon began to draw his own inference therefrom.
“Stays in town, does he?” murmured our astute officer. “Umph! there is some special reason, for this business is all very well in its way, but there may be another cause. Formed some new connection perhaps, illicit love and all that sort of thing. The case looks more promising. If I succeed in finding out anything the earl, my patron, will be in a state of delight, but after all it’s too contemptible and paltry a business for me to be engaged in. Well, we will see what can be done. Something’s in the wind—that’s quite certain. The question is, how is it to be worked?”
Attached to the staff of gentlemen of which he (Wrench) was a distinguished ornament was a man who was a sort of supplementary or occasional detective—his name was Slingsby.
His services had been frequently called into requisition to hunt up evidence for his superiors. Mr. Slingsby had no objection to push his inquiries in channels where his superiors did not choose to venture. He was a sort of sleuth hound, who would stoop to any mean artifices to obtain the desired information.
Mr. Wrench, upon his return home, sent for Slingsby without further ado.
“Well,” said the last-named, when he was closeted with his superior, “Naggs said you wanted to see me.”
“Naggs was right—sit down,” returned Mr. Wrench.
“Anything on hand? Any fresh business?” inquired Slingsby.
“Yes; if you will have a little patience you shall hear.”
“I’m all attention, sir.”
“Very well. In the first place there is a young man named Gatliffe, who is by trade an engineer. He resides at Wood Green.”
“I can go there, and soon ascertain about him.”
“Don’t you be so fast. I don’t want you to go to Wood Green. To do so would be an act of the greatest imprudence. Besides, I have already been there myself. What I want you to do is to watch him as he leaves his work. He is foreman to an engineer in the Euston-road. I will give you the name of the firm and the number of the house. He generally leaves the works at six in the evening, but sometimes he stops till seven or eight, and indeed on special occasions even later than that; but, as a rule, you will be able to make sure of him between six and seven, or from that to eight. You understand me thus far.”
“Oh, perfectly. I quite understand, Mr. Wrench.”
“Very well. What I want you to do is this—when he leaves, follow him and notice where he goes to. It’s probable he may make for the station; in which case push your inquiries no further, as you may rest assured that he is about to return to his own home.”
“But if he doesn’t do so?”
“If he does not, follow him and see where he goes to. This done, come to me.”
“And what’s he been up to—forgery or something of that sort, I suppose?”
“Nothing of the kind. He has not done anything wrong—at all events, nothing against the law.”
“What is he wanted for, then?”
“He is not wanted. All I require for the present of you is to ascertain where he goes to on the nights he does not return to Wood Green. We have good reason for believing that he has taken up with some woman. Should this be the case we must learn more about it.”
“Then that’s all you want me to do at present.”
“That is all. Here is the name and address of his governor. Now do your best. I have written underneath the address, between the hours of six and eight, and here is his photograph, by which you will be able to recognise him.”
“All right, Mr. Wrench. Never fear, I’ll find out what you want;” and with these words Mr. Slingsby took his departure.
On the following night he watched the entrance through which the workpeople passed in and out of the works in the Euston-road.
In the course of half-an-hour or so he observed Gatliffe pass through the door, and Mr. Slingsby followed at once. He was, however, much disappointed at finding his man make direct for the railway-station, and had in accordance with his instructions to give up the chase for that night.
On the succeeding evening he was again at his post, and very shortly before seven Gatliffe again passed out of the building—this time to look a different direction. He walked on westwards, and entered a coffee-shop, where he remained for about half-an-hour or more, Mr. Slingsby keeping watch and ward on the outside.
He saw Gatliffe emerge from the coffee-shop, and then walk on at a smart pace, the detective following at a respectful distance. After this the young engineer went into a hosier’s shop, and purchased a pair of gloves.
He then made direct for Covent Garden Theatre, paid the entrance money, and went into the Promenade Concerts.
The detective did the same, and kept a sharp eye upon the movements of his man, who in the course of a few minutes was joined by a female, in whose company he remained for the whole of the evening. When the performance was over the two, upon reaching the street, called a four-wheeled cab, into which they both got. When the vehicle was driven off Mr. Slingsby jumped into a hansom, and told the driver to follow the four-wheeler.
The driver of the hansom obeyed the order given him, and in the due course of time the four-wheeler was brought to a standstill at the house in the occupation of Miss Stanbridge.
Mr. Slingsby saw its two occupants alight and enter the house in question; then he discharged his cab, and watched the house for some considerable time.
He saw a light in the parlour, and saw also the shadows of two or three persons, one of which appeared to be that of a man, the others those of females.
He remained watching the house for an hour and a half, or perhaps two hours; then, when the front parlour was in darkness he went his way, well satisfied with his night’s adventure.
Early on the following morning he waited upon Mr. Wrench to make him acquainted with the successful nature of his expedition.
“You have done well, wonderfully well, Slingsby,” said the detective. “Nothing could be better. You are quite certain as to his identity.”
“Oh, quite certain—he is the image of the photograph.”
“Say, rather the photo is the image of him.”
“Yes, it is. There cannot be any mistake as to that; and the lady—do you know her?”
“No, never saw her before.”
“A fashionable party, I suppose?”
“Oh, dear yes, quite up to the knocker.”
“Good-looking?”
“Yes, she’s what you would call a fascinating sort of woman, and appeared from what I could see of her to be quite the lady. When I say a lady, I mean of course one of doubtful repute.”
“Ah, just so. That is no more than I expected. So much the better.”
“The better?”
“Certainly, the matter will be more easily worked.”
“Most likely; but what is to be my next proceeding?”
“You have to watch him again, and see if he pays another visit to this establishment. When this has been done we will consider our next course of procedure.”
Mr. Slingsby acted in accordance with the instructions given him by his superior.
He was at the works in the Euston-road on the following night, but the result was not quite so satisfactory. Tom Gatliffe went to the railway-station, and made for his home at Wood Green.
He did the same on the following evening, but Mr. Slingsby did not despair. He kept his man steadily in view, and never missed a single night from his post.
All this time Gatliffe was in ignorance of the surveillance which was kept over him.
On the third night he bent his steps in the direction of Laura Stanbridge’s residence, the detective following at a respectful distance.
The gentle rap which Gatliffe gave at the door caused it to be opened by the servant girl, when without a word the visitor entered.
Mr. Slingsby remained curling his heels on the pavement on the opposite side of the street.
Presently the owner of the house came out with her admirer.
Mr. Slingsby judged rightly enough that the two were going to some place of entertainment. He did not deem it expedient to follow them, but went his way, and returned to his post a little before eleven o’clock.
In about half an hour after that time the lady and gentleman returned, the former letting herself and her companion in with a latch-key.
A gleam of light shot from the parlour window as on the first occasion, and Mr. Slingsby watched the house until he concluded all the inmates had retired to bed, then he returned to his own lodgings, very well satisfied with his night’s work.
“It is pretty clear we have run him to earth,” said Mr. Wrench, when his emissary made him acquainted with all the facts which had come to his knowledge. “You have done this job to-rights, Slingsby. Everything is satisfactory, as far as it goes, but, of course, much remains to be done. For the present, however, let the matter rest till I have seen my employer; then I will let you know how to act. Say nothing to anybody; keep quite quiet, and we shall win in a hand canter.”
“All right, sir; I am to do nothing till I hear from you.”
“Nothing whatever.”
When Mr. Slingsby had taken his departure, Mr. Wrench rubbed the palms of his hands together in great glee.
“Ah, I wasn’t far out in my surmise!” he ejaculated. “I thought there was a woman in the case. Well, I should never have thought it of him, for, to say the truth, he appeared to be altogether a different sort of man; but, Lord, one never knows whom to place faith in. Still he seemed so discreet, so high-minded, so far removed from temptation. But, then, after all, it is but a natural consequence. Here’s a fine handsome young fellow finds himself suddenly deserted by one who, if the truth must be told, ought to have cleaved to him through good and bad fortune. Yes, it is but natural that he should form another connection, and it is withal most fortunate, as far as we are concerned.”
He put on his hat and gloves, and sallied forth.
He made the best of his way to Mr. Chicknell’s chambers.
The lawyer was perfectly staggered when he heard the news.
“You don’t mean it? Can it be possible?” he ejaculated.
“Fact, sir—an indisputable fact.”
“Do you think he is living in open adultery with this woman?”
“I fear—or rather I fancy so.”
“Umph! sit down. Pray, be seated, Mr. Wrench. The earl must know of this; he will be most delighted.”
“There’s but little doubt of that, sir.”
“None—none in the least, Wrench. Dear me, you have done well. The only obstacle in our way is at once suddenly and unexpectedly removed.”
“Not quite.”
“Eh, what do you mean?”
“We must have proofs.”
“Ah, true. But these are easily obtainable, I suppose, eh?”
“I don’t suppose there will be any great difficulty in the matter; but as yet only half our task is accomplished.”
“Umph! Certainly that’s right enough, and the other half, as you term it, is perhaps the most difficult part.”
“It must be managed, sir—that’s all I know.”
“Yes, most decidedly; that is quite clear. The earl has the highest opinion of your ability and discretion. He speaks in the most flattering terms of your—ahem!—your wonderful powers of penetration.”
“Does he? I am sure I am much obliged to his lordship for his good opinion of me,” cried the detective, with a short laugh.
“Oh, I am not joking, Wrench. Don’t imagine that,” observed the lawyer.
“I don’t for a moment suppose you are, sir.”
“And so he’s taken up with a woman of doubtful repute—has he? Dear me, it seems almost incredible.”
“Well, it’s only as we suppose at present, sir. As I said before, proofs are necessary. It would never do to jump hastily at a conclusion. I have never been accustomed to do that.”
“No, no, of course not. That we know perfectly well; and so, upon second consideration, it would be perhaps just as well to hold the matter over for the present, and not mention the subject to the earl till we have clearer evidence.”
“I should not do so, not till such time as we are more certain of our bird. He will fall into the web, I dare say, in good time.”
“And what do you propose doing then?” inquired the lawyer.
“Well, sir, that is the reason for my waiting upon you. He has been seen in places of public resort with this woman; he has been seen entering the house with her, and there is every reason to suppose that he has remained there all night; but this, as you know, is not positive evidence. We must have more than this.”
“Certainly; that is quite clear—much more. Do you know any of the inmates—any servant in the house?”
Mr. Wrench shook his head, and said, “Not a soul—not one person.”
“There is a servant, of course, or servants?”
“Only one, I believe.”
“Oh! only one—eh?”
“As far as I have been able to ascertain.”
“And is she to be got at? Most domestic servants are.”
“Well, that remains to be seen. I have not made any attempt to enlist her in our service, and for this reason: should she be faithful to her mistress—which is more than likely—it would be putting them on their guard.”
“Just so; that is clear enough, Wrench. Well, I cannot do better than leave it in your hands. You know what is requisite—proofs, clear and unmistakeable proofs, that he has committed adultery.”
“When I obtain further information I will see you again,” returned the detective, as he left the lawyer’s chambers.
Mr. Wrench pondered over the matter.
At present he could not very well see his way. He had, as he termed it, a delicate and difficult bit of steerage.
A rash or imprudent step might ruin all.
He was by no means disposed to tamper with Miss Stanbridge’s servant. He had ascertained that she had been a long time with her present mistress, and the people in the neighbourhood said she was “true as steel.”
The detective, therefore, concluded possibly enough that the girl might prove a troublesome customer.
He sent for Mr. Slingsby, with whom he had a long consultation.
In the end it was agreed between the two that other attempts should be made before having recourse to the servant for information.
Mr. Wrench now came to the front. He watched the house in the occupation of Laura Stanbridge, and made several inquiries in the neighbourhood in a careless manner.
He ascertained by the merest accident that a charwoman was occasionally engaged by the maid servant to clean the house and do the rough work of the establishment.
This was just the sort of person Mr. Wrench was desirous to meet with.
A few shillings would go a long way with a woman of that description, and the chances were that she had a tongue, which she could make very good use of.
He had ascertained that she was known as Mrs. Mumms, that she was a widow, with a son and a daughter. The son was shopboy to a greengrocer in Jermyn-street, the daughter was in service in one of the western suburbs—Richmond or Twickenham it was said—but there was no positive certainty as to this.
Mr. Wrench elected to try the son, to begin with. He went to the greengrocer’s where he worked, and bought some fruit, had the satisfaction of seeing the lad in question, but he did not deem it advisable to make any inquiries of him at that time—he awaited a more fitting opportunity.
On the following morning he paced up and down Jermyn-street till he saw young Mumms come out with his basket on his arm.
Mr. Wrench waited till he came by his side, then he said—
“Hold hard for a moment—I want to ask you a question.”
“Yes, sir,” said the lad, coming to a halt.
“Do you happen to know the name Crowdace in this neighbourhood?”
“Can’t say I do. What street does he live in?”
“I have been told he lives in Ryle-street.”
“Don’t know the name.”
“Sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Do you know the name of Stanbridge?”
“Oh, yes, I know that name. I’ll show you where she lives if you want her. I shall have to pass the house.”
“I don’t want to see her. What I want to know is, has she a lodger with her of the name of Crowdace?”
The name of the gentleman whom the detective was inquiring for was of course a pure invention.
“I never heard that she had, but mother will be able to tell you; she works there occasionally.”
“Is there any gentleman lodger there?”
“Well, there you bother me. She don’t take no lodgers, I believe, but there is a gentleman or two there occasionally.
“Is she a married lady?”
“I don’t know as she’s what you might term a married lady, but still she may be for aught I know; but mother will be able to tell you more about it.”
“Where does your mother live?”
“Close by here; I’ll show you if you like.”
“Do—there’s a good chap.”
Mr. Wrench slipped a shilling into the boy’s hand, for which he appeared to be duly grateful.
He took the detective to a narrow court, and halted in front of a dirty-looking house with five bell handles one above the other on the side of the doorway.
He rang the third bell, whereupon a woman, wiping the soap suds from her bare arms with her apron, made her appearance in the passage.
“Mother, a gentleman wants to speak to you,” said the greengrocer’s assistant, as he left to go his rounds.
“Your sarvint, sir,” said Mrs. Mumms, coming forward.
“Oh, your son informs me that you know Miss Stanbridge. Is that so?”
“Yes, sir, I work for her at times.”
“Ah, just so. Do you happen to know if she has had a gentleman named Crowdace lodging at her house?”
The woman shook her head.
“I never heard the name before,” said she.
“And you don’t know, I suppose, whether there is anyone of that name lodging in the same street?”
“Well, sir, not as I’ve overheard. There may be, but its unbeknown to me, if there is.”
“My object is simply this. A gentleman of that name is missing, and his friends are anxious to ascertain something about him.”
“Ah, I’m sorry I can’t tell you.”
“Will you be kind enough to make inquiries in the neighbourhood for me? If you succeed you will be handsomely rewarded.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good. Here is a card with the name written thereon. Good morning, Mrs. Mumms.”
“Will you call again, sir?”
“Most certainly I will, in a day or two.”
This was certainly going a most roundabout way to obtain the desired information, but Mr. Wrench’s object was to throw the woman off her guard.
There could be no possible harm in his inquiring for a fictitious individual. His doing so would not arouse suspicion. In the due course of time he hoped to have Mrs. Mumms as an ally.
He called again upon her; of course no such person could be found. He gave her five shillings for her trouble, and engaged her on the day as charwoman to his own establishment.
She came and cleared up his house. He treated her liberally—gave her a plentiful supply of beer and gin, and she was greatly pleased with her new employer.
She went her ways, and in about a fortnight was again hired by our cunning detective.
In the evening she was directed by Mrs. Wrench to dust and clean her husband’s library. While she was occupied with this task Mr. Wrench entered. The charwoman was about to withdraw, but the detective requested her to remain.
“Don’t go, Mrs. Mumms,” said Wrench. “I want to have a little conversation with you. Sit down.”
The woman looked a little surprised, or it might be alarmed, but did as she was requested.
Mr. Wrench closed the door of the room, and then took a seat himself. As a preliminary, he insisted upon his companion taking a glass of something short. This done, he proceeded to business.
“I cannot find the person of whom I am in search,” said he. “Will you just answer one or two questions. Mind you, I will make it worth your while. I don’t expect anybody to work for nothing.”
“In course not, sir. You’re a different sort of gentleman to that.”
“Well, you see, Mrs. Mumms, it has occurred to me that probably the party to whom I allude is passing under a different name.”
“Likely enough, sir; but I hope as how he aint bin doing anything wrong.”
“Oh, dear me, no such thing. But, now, tell me—there is a gentleman living at the house owned by Miss Stanbridge, or has been, eh?”
“She’s always had a relation—a cousin or nephew I believe he is—living with her. She brought him up from a mere lad, so I’ve been told, but he aint there so much as he used to be, and of late I’ve not seen much of him.”
“Ah! a relation, eh?”
“Yes; so I believe, but he’s not the party you are in search of. He’s been there for years.”
“And is not there somebody else?”
“Yes, lately there has been.”
“And do you know his name?”
“Certainly—Mr. Gatliffe.”
“You’ve been given to understand. Now tell me plainly. This Mr. Gatliffe is living with her not as a lodger but as—Well, you know what I mean, you are a woman of the world, Mrs. Mumms. Please answer me truly.”
“I shouldn’t like to say, sir. It aint no business of mine. There’s a good many couple a living together as aint man and wife, but that’s nobody’s business but their two selves. They both on ’em act on the square as far as I’m concerned, and there’s no call for me to round on ’em.”
“A very proper observation on your part. I wish everyone had your discretion, Mrs. Mumms; but you need not be afraid of speaking frankly to me. I know they are living together without your telling me so, and you know it.”
“S’pose I do, what of that? He’s a fine honourable young fellow as ever stepped in shoe leather, and everybody likes him.”
“That is true enough, but he is not there always—only occasionally.”
“No, he’s not always there; but I do hope and trust that you don’t intend him any harm.”
Mr. Wrench burst out into a loud laugh.
“Oh, dear me, no. Harm indeed! Of course not. What could have put that into your head?”
“Oh, I begs parding, sir. Meant no offence, but I should be sorry to get anybody into trouble.”
“You are not likely to do that. Now answer me one question before you go. See, here are five sovereigns, if you answer me truly.”
Mrs. Mumms was astounded at the sight of five sovereigns. Her breath seemed to be taken away.
“Do you consent?” cried her companion in a severe tone.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Speak the truth, that’s all. Mr. Gatliffe and Miss Stanbridge occupy one bedroom when he visits the house. I know they do, but that is one thing—I want to hear it from your lips.”
Mrs. Mumms took up the corner of her apron with which she wiped her lips, then her nose, and lastly her eyes.
“You hear what I say. Give me the desired information and the five pounds are yours. Why need you hesitate? If you won’t tell me I shall have no difficulty in finding somebody who will, possibly for a tenth part of this sum.”
“Well, then, they do occupy but one bedroom.”
“In short, he is to all intents and purposes her husband—in every respect but the marriage ceremony?”
“I should suppose so, but I do hope you are not going to bring them into trouble. I wish I had not said anything about them.”
“Don’t you be alarmed; nobody will interfere with your pair of turtle doves,” observed Mr. Wrench, with a short laugh. “Be of good cheer, Mrs. Mumms, and take up the money.”
He handed the gold pieces to his companion, who wrapped them up in a piece of dirty, crumpled paper, and transferred them to her pocket, without saying a word.
“What is the name of the girl who is servant to the establishment?” asked the detective, carelessly.
“Her name? Oh, Susan.”
“Susan what?”
“Susan Tarver.”
“Thank you.” Mr. Wrench wrote it down on a sheet of note paper which lay on the table before him.
“What do you want with her?” cried the charwoman, in a tone of alarm.
“I want nothing of her.”
“I hope you won’t mention anything about this to Susan—I do hope that.”
“I promise you not to do so; neither is it likely, seeing that I don’t know her and have no desire to make her acquaintance.”
Mrs. Mumms now rose and left in a state of trepidation, for she half-repented of having given the information for which she had been so liberally paid, but when she got home she was in better spirits and was well satisfied with her day’s work.
Mr. Wrench had now obtained as much as was necessary for his purpose, the cumbrous and expensive machinery of the law could be put in motion as soon as Mr. Chicknell and his aristocratic client chose. Mr. Wrench hastened to the lawyer’s office, and after this the sagacious attorney hastened down to Broxbridge.