“Sounds hopeful,” French agreed cheerily. “Perhaps you would give me the details?”
The manager touched a bell. “Mr. Whitley,” he said, as a dark, keen-looking young man entered, “you might answer any questions that Mr. French here asks you about Mr. Welland, of Acacia Avenue, Harrow.”
“Welland?” exclaimed French in amazement. “Is he a well-built, prosperous looking man with the typical American businessman type of face?”
“No, sir,” returned the clerk. “Mr. Welland is slight, with a pale complexion and a small, fair moustache. He has peculiar eyes, light blue and with a queer sort of stare.”
A wave of excitement swept over French. “Style!” he thought, in high delight. Things were beginning to move at last!
“I think I recognize the man you mean, Mr. Whitley,” he said pleasantly, “though I knew him under another name. Now what about this Mr. Welland? When did you come across him first?”
“He came in one day about a year ago.” The clerk hesitated. “If I might get my books I could give you the exact date.”
The manager nodded and in a few moments the young man returned with a voluminous ledger.
“He first called on the and said he wished to open an account. You may remember, sir,” Mr. Whitley turned to the manager, “that I brought him in to you. He said that he carried on business as a bookmaker and that he dealt particularly in betting on dog races. He had worked out a scheme whereby his bets were limited to half crowns and multiples of a half crown, with the result that he found himself with large numbers of half crowns on his hands. His lodgments would therefore be made in coins of this denomination. On that day he lodged sixty pounds’ worth of half crowns. It was a Wednesday and every Wednesday since then he has come in with amounts varying from fifty to a hundred pounds all in half crowns.”
“I follow you,” said French. “I take it then that his account has been steadily growing?”
“No,” the young man returned, “for he draws cheques for comparatively large amounts at intervals. I do not think that his account has ever stood at more than five hundred pounds. When it amounts to from four to five hundred pounds he draws all out except a few pounds.”
“By cheque?”
“Yes, by cheque.”
“In whose favour?”
“In his own.”
“I suppose I need scarcely ask you, Mr. Whitley, if you were satisfied that this business was perfectly in order? Did it not strike you as strange that a man should lodge nothing but half crowns?”
“Well, you see,” the young man returned, “he explained that, otherwise I probably would have thought it odd.”
“Then it is not an uncommon thing for silver to be lodged in that way?”
“Oh, no, quite common. Small shopkeepers and persons of that class generally make a weekly lodgment in silver, but of course it is in coins of all denominations.”
“Quite. Does Mr. Welland call about the same time each Wednesday?”
“Yes, always about .”
“Very good,” said French. “With your permission, sir,” he turned to the manager, “I shall be here at next Wednesday, that is tomorrow, to meet Mr. Welland. I may say that I believe the information you have given me will prove highly important and I need scarcely impress on you both the absolute importance of saying nothing of my visit and of giving no warning to Mr. Welland.”
French’s mind was in a whirl as he left the bank. Then it was half crowns! But what was the object of it all? He swore impotently as he came up once more against the problem.
But one thing at least was altogether splendid! For some time past he believed he had had sufficient evidence against Style to convict him of murder, but his difficulty had been that Style had vanished. Now Style was found, or at least he would be on the next day. That was two of the known members of the gang. With luck the shadowing of Style would lead him to the third, Gwen Lestrange. This morning had marked a great forward step in the investigation.
But when he reached the Yard French’s delight increased tenfold. There were awaiting him two other telephone messages and two letters, all from the managers of banks and all containing similar news. In each case the manager advised him that in reply to his circular he believed the wanted man was dealing at his bank, and each suggested a call for further information.
During the afternoon French was a busy man. Engaging a taxi, he drove round the various branches and in each found that Style was making a lodgment of half crowns, exactly as had been described by the clerk at Knightsbridge. Only on one point did the stories differ. Each bank was visited by Style on a different day of the week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday’s visits were accounted for, and on ringing up the Yard from the last branch he visited French was able to place Thursday’s call also. A similar communication had come in from still another bank.
With this information he felt that he should soon reach a decisive stage in the case. Style once located, the end was in sight.
But he racked his brains in exasperation as his former problem recurred to him. Again, how was Welland passing these coins to Style? The more French thought over the investigation he had made, the more impossible it seemed that the man could be doing it. And yet here was definite proof that it was being done daily.
He sat down at his desk, and contrary to his usual custom in the office, lit his pipe and began to smoke with long,
