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Again the dentist broke the silence.
"Shall we send for the police?"
"What good will that do?"
"It is the usual thing, is it----"
"Usual! The whole thing is unusual. The police spells for us ruin. A thing of this sort gets into the papers, and we might as well put up the shutters at once."
"Can we avoid----?"
"We must. Let me think--yes."
"You have thought of something?"
"Plain and ordinary enough. It did not want much thinking about."
"What is it?"
"Finsbury Circus is deserted at night?"
"Yes."
"Wait till then. Then throw the body over the rails into the Circus garden. Let the police find it there."
"Horrible!"
"Why? The man's dead. The police have to find the body. What can it matter whether it is found in these rooms or the open air? It can't hurt the dead man to be found there. It will certainly hurt us if he is found here."
"That's so."
There was no help for it. Their exchequer was low enough down as it was--they must prevent the happening of anything which would reduce it still lower.
They had no belief in the proverb that when things were at their worst they would mend--because their condition was as bad as it very well could be, and there was an utter absence of any sign of a mend about it.
CHAPTER II
WHAT WAS FOUND ON THE BODY
"Couldn't we put the body in a cab and send it home?"
"Could--but it would probably mean putting ourselves in the bankruptcy, if not the police court. The thing would be traced home to us. True, the bankruptcy would come only a little before the appointed time, just hasten things along, as it were."
"Could not we put----?"
"Let's put the body in this cupboard. That's the wisest thing to do for the present.... That's it. Turn the key. Now I'll get round to my rooms and send Sawyer back. That little imp must have no inkling of what has happened."
"He leaves at five o'clock."
"And it is close on that hour. Let him come in, and suppose the place empty. Let him leave at the usual time, in the usual way, and then I will come back."
Things happened that way, and soon after Sawyer had left for the day, the surgeon closed his offices and went into the dentist's.
He locked the outer door, and walking into the inner chamber, said:
"Charley, I have been thinking it over, and it does seem an awful thing to do that over the railings business. Mind you, I still believe it all sentiment, but, if possible, we will find out where the man lived, and devise a means of driving him home."
"Won't it be dangerous?"
"Yes. Still we will risk it. It seems a brutal thing to do as I suggested. We will put him on his own doorstep late to-night."
"You think we can manage it without----"
"Great point is, where he lived. If in a quiet suburb we can manage it all right. Get a cab here at my door, send the cabby round the corner for some cigars, we mind the horse, and, while he is away, slip the body in. When he comes back he will notice nothing in the darkness."
"But the man said he was going to America to-morrow!"
"Great Scott! So he did. I had forgotten that. Anyway, let us see if he has any address, pocketbook, letters--or anything on him to show where he would have slept if living to-night."
The key was turned in the lock of the cupboard, the body brought out and searched.
In the pockets were a pa.s.sage ticket for America, letters addressed to "Mr. George Depew (of New York), Armfield's Hotel, Finsbury."
It was evident from the wording of the letters, which the brothers read, that Mr. Depew had stayed at Armfield's since his arrival from America.
The letters were from a city solicitor named Loide--Richard Loide, of Liverpool Street.
A perusal of those letters showed the whole reason of Mr. Depew's being that side of the Atlantic.
Loide had acted for Depew's aunt in the collection of the rents of certain properties. That aunt died, and Depew was sole legatee.
When the lawyer's letter reached him to that effect, Depew cabled Loide to sell all the property immediately. Another cable, a few hours later, announced that Depew was aboard a liner, and on his way to England. He was coming to look after his own.
The last letter from the solicitor was dated only one day before, and appointed two o'clock that very day--the day of the death--for Depew to attend at the lawyer's office, and receive nineteen thousand pounds, the amount the deceased woman's estate had realized.
The brothers were silent for a few moments after the perusal of that last letter. The consideration of a sum like nineteen thousand pounds, by two poor men, needs a few moments' silence.
Then they turned over again the contents of the dead man's pockets. The purse contained a few sovereigns and dollars, the steamer pa.s.sage ticket, two Broad Street station cloak room tickets, and nothing more.
"Nineteen thousand pounds!"
It was the surgeon speaking. He looked at his brother; his brother looked at him. Each look was full of eloquence.
Then they picked up the dead man's coat, felt every inch of the lining thereof, thinking to find a secret pocket, or notes sewn in it. Nothing.