The Ponson Case

of the Western Counties Bank, Tanner next day called on the manager. Here, after a study of the accused’s finances, he made an interesting discovery. At intervals during the last four years Douglas had lodged sums of money⁠—invariably in notes, so he was told⁠—and what particularly intrigued the Inspector’s imagination was the fact that each such lodgment had taken place a few days after the drawing of an “X” cheque by Sir William Ponson, and in each case it was for just a trifle less than the amount of that cheque. It seemed evident that Sir William had been paying Douglas these sums, and the method of lodging showed the latter equally eager to keep the transactions secret. What service, mused Tanner, could Douglas have possibly done Sir William to have merited such a return?

It was an anxious and disappointed Inspector who that afternoon stepped into the London train at Millbay Station, Plymouth. He had been hoping for great things from his search of Douglas’s rooms, and he had found practically nothing⁠—only an old photograph and the address of an insurance company in London. And neither of these seemed the slightest use. Could anything be learned by tracing that tombstone or calling at that insurance office? He did not think so.

But more than once he had learnt the folly of neglecting any clue, no matter how slight. Therefore on arrival in London he prepared a circular to be sent to every police station in England. It bore a reproduction of the photograph, together with a paragraph asking if the recipient could identify the place and send in a note of its whereabouts, as well as a copy of the inscription on the tombstone.

Next morning he set out for 77B Gracechurch Street.

A suite of offices on the second floor of a large building bore the legend “The Associated Insurance Company, Limited,” and Tanner, entering, asked for the manager. After a short delay he was shown into the presence of a tall, gaunt man, with iron-grey hair, and tired looking eyes. Tanner introduced himself as an Inspector from the Yard.

“I have called, sir,” he went on, “with reference to a man named William Douglas, a small, elderly man with a grey beard, who lives near Yelverton in Devon. I understand that he has had some dealings recently with your Company. I imagine, but am not certain, that he came here on Friday, the 2nd of July last.”

“I cannot recall the man myself,” the manager returned. “What is the precise point in question?”

“We have had to arrest him on a serious charge⁠—in fact, that of murder. I am endeavouring to trace his recent history and movements. I want to know if he did call, and if so, on what business.”

The manager pressed twice a button on his desk. An elderly clerk answered.

“Mr. Jones, do you recall our doing any business recently with a man called William Douglas from Devonshire?”

“Yes, sir,” the clerk replied. “We were in correspondence about an annuity, but the matter fell through.”

“This gentleman is Mr. Tanner, an Inspector from Scotland Yard. You might let him have all the particulars he wants.” Then to Tanner, “If, sir, you will go with Mr. Jones, he will tell you everything he can.”

Mr. Jones led the way to a smaller office, and waved his visitor to a chair.

“William Douglas?” he said, bending over a vertical file. “Here we are, Mr. Tanner.”

He withdrew a folder, and settling himself at his desk, took out some papers.

“Here is the first letter. You will see it is an application from William Douglas of Myrtle Cottage, Yelverton, South Devon, for particulars of annuities. He wanted to purchase one which would bring him in £500 a year. Here is our reply enclosing the information and a form for him to fill in, and here is the form which he returned to us duly filled. You will notice he is aged sixty-six. We then wrote him this letter explaining that the annuity would cost him £4,600, and asking his further instructions. He replied, as you see, to proceed with the matter, and he would send on the cheque in due course. We prepared the necessary documents, but received no further communication from Mr. Douglas until about ten days later we had this note stating that he regretted the trouble he had given, but that he found himself unable to proceed with the matter at present. And so it stands.”

“Then Douglas didn’t call here?”

“No.”

Tanner was considerably puzzled by this information. As he walked slowly along the Embankment back to the Yard, he racked his brains to understand Douglas’s motive or plan. What had been the ex-clerk’s idea? The figures of his bank account showed that at no time since he came to live at Yelverton had he had more than £600 to his credit. As he could not possibly have paid the four thousand odd himself, where did he expect to raise it?

And then a sudden idea flashed into the Inspector’s mind. Sir William Ponson had been paying Douglas sums ranging from £100 to £400 at intervals during the last four years. These sums were all paid by cheques marked “X” on the block. On the day before his death Sir William had written an “X” cheque for £3,000. This cheque had never been cashed.

Was there not a connection? Had that £3,000 “X” cheque of Sir William’s not been written for the purpose of paying for Douglas’s annuity? It certainly looked like it. And had the sudden death of Sir William not prevented its being cashed?

Of course, the amounts did not tally⁠—the cheque was for £3,000, while the price of the annuity was £4,600. But it was obvious that these sums might represent the different opinions the two men held of what was due. Possibly also negotiations were in progress between them on the point. This was of course guesswork, but at least it would explain the facts.

The Inspector walked like a man in a dream as he concentrated his