My work occupied me during the greater part of the afternoon, and I did not get back again to my own house until about six o’clock. When I did so, I was told to my utter amazement that Miss Cusack had arrived and was waiting to see me with great impatience. I went at once into my consulting room, where I found her pacing restlessly up and down.
‘What is the matter?’ I asked.
‘Matter!’ she cried; ‘have you not heard? Why, it has been cried in the streets already – the money is gone, was stolen on the way to London. There was a regular highway robbery in the Richmond Road, in broad daylight too. The facts are simply these: Two men in a dogcart met the cab, shot the driver, and after a desperate struggle, in which Edgar Wimburne was badly hurt, seized the gold and drove off. The thing was planned, of course – planned to a moment.’
‘But what about Tyndall?’ I asked.
‘He was probably in the plot. All we know is that he has escaped and has not been heard of since.’
‘But what a daring thing!’ I cried. ‘They will be caught, of course; they cannot have gone far with the money.’
‘You do not understand their tricks, Dr Lonsdale; but I do,’ was her quick answer, ‘and I venture to guarantee that if we do not get that money back before the morning, Edgar Wimburne has seen the last of his fortune. Now, I mean to follow up this business, all night if necessary.’
I did not reply. Her dark, bright eyes were blazing with excitement, and she began to pace up and down.
‘You must come with me,’ she continued, ‘you promised to help me if the necessity should arise.’
‘And I will keep my word,’ I answered.
‘That is an immense relief.’ She gave a deep sigh as she spoke.
‘What about Miss Ransom?’ I asked.
‘Oh, I have left Letty at home. She is too excited to be of the slightest use.’
‘One other question,’ I interrupted, ‘and then I am completely at your service. You mentioned that Wimburne was hurt.’
‘Yes, but I believe not seriously. He has been taken to the hospital. He has already given evidence, but it amounts to very little. The robbery took place in a lonely part of the road, and just for the moment there was no one in sight.’
‘Well,’ I said, as she paused, ‘you have some scheme in your head, have you not?’
‘I have,’ she answered. ‘The fact is this: from the very first I feared some such catastrophe as has really taken place. I have known Mr Graham for a long time, and – distrusted him. He has passed for a man of position and means, but I believe him to be a mere adventurer. There is little doubt that all his future depended on his getting this fortune. I saw his face when the scales declared in Edgar Wimburne’s favour – but there! I must ask you to accompany me to Hammersmith immediately. On the way I will tell you more.’
‘We will go in my carriage,’ I said, ‘it happens to be at the door.’
We started directly. As we had left the more noisy streets Miss Cusack continued –
‘You remember the advertisement I showed you yesterday morning?’
I nodded.
‘You naturally could make no sense of it, but to me it was fraught with much meaning. This is by no means the first advertisement which has appeared under the name of Joshua Linklater. I have observed similar advertisements, and all, strange to say, in connection with founder’s work, appearing at intervals in the big dailies for the last four or five months, but my attention was never specially directed to them until a circumstance occurred of which I am about to tell you.’
‘What is that?’ I asked.
‘Three weeks ago a certain investigation took me to Hammersmith in order to trace a stolen necklace. It was necessary that I should go to a small pawnbroker’s shop – the man’s name was Higgins. In my queer work, Dr Lonsdale, I employ many disguises. That night, dressed quietly as a domestic servant on her evening out, I entered the pawnbroker’s. I wore a thick veil and a plainly trimmed hat. I entered one of the little boxes where one stands to pawn goods, and waited for the man to appear.
‘For the moment he was engaged, and looking through a small window in the door I saw to my astonishment that the pawnbroker was in earnest conversation with no less a person than Mr Campbell Graham. This was the last place I should have expected to see Mr Graham in, and I immediately used both my eyes and ears. I heard the pawnbroker address him as Linklater.
‘Immediately the memory of the advertisements under that name flashed through my brain. From the attitude of the two men there was little doubt that they were discussing a matter of the utmost importance, and as Mr Graham, alias Linklater, was leaving the shop, I distinctly overheard the following words: “In all probability Bovey will die tonight. I may or may not be successful, but in order to insure against loss we must be prepared. It is not safe for me to come here often – look out for the advertisement – it will be in the agony column.”
‘I naturally thought such words very strange, and when I heard of Mr Bovey’s death and read an account of the queer will, it seemed to me that I began to see daylight. It was also my business to look out for the advertisement, and when I saw it yesterday morning you
