The Murders in Praed Street

me very clearly now. It made a considerable sensation at the time, owing to the principle involved. Right or wrong, Morlandson was acting in accordance with his lights. His evidence, I remember, was given with an air of passionate conviction. This Lord Whatley was his friend, and he had saved him from suffering at the expense of twenty years of his own life. I wonder whether he survived his sentence? It would be most interesting to learn.”

The Professor relapsed into his favourite attitude of thought, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling, his hands, with the tips of the fingers touching, laid upon the table in front of him. He remained like this for many minutes before he spoke again.

“It would be so interesting that I feel impelled to take steps to discover the facts,” he said. “After lunch I shall visit the record department of Scotland Yard. While I am away, you can complete the filing of those papers I gave you yesterday, relating to the work which we have just completed.”

Harold received these instructions without any great enthusiasm. He was not greatly interested in the case of this Dr. Morlandson, since it had occurred so many years ago and could have no possible bearing upon any problem of the present day. In his recollection of this forgotten trial the Professor seemed to be neglecting entirely the problems presented by the murders in Praed Street. Perhaps he had decided that they were not worthy of his notice. It was not every problem submitted to him which appealed to him sufficiently to induce him to devote his energies to its solution.

He spent the afternoon in the study, working half-heartedly and awaiting the Professor’s return. But it was not until nearly dinnertime that his employer came in, and then he could see by his expression that the result of his search had in some way disappointed him. Dinner was passed in almost complete silence, and the two returned once more to the study.

“I have discovered the subsequent history of Dr. Morlandson,” announced the Professor abruptly, as soon as he had finished his coffee. “I will recount to you the result of my researches at Scotland Yard. You can make notes of them, and file them with your précis of his trial.”

Harold produced pencil and paper, and the Professor proceeded to give an account of how he had spent the afternoon. After some delay the authorities at Scotland Yard, who were always anxious to carry out any of Dr. Priestley’s requests, even though they were ignorant of the motive behind them, had found the record of Morlandson’s career after his sentence. He had been sent to Dartmoor, and had served his time there. He had been released on licence in 1920, having undergone fourteen years of his sentence. He had then remained for a short time in London, arranging his affairs, but had not communicated with anybody but his solicitor, to whom he had expressed his intention of spending the rest of his life in the most complete seclusion, and devoting himself to chemical research, for which he had always had a bent during the period in which he was in practice.

Before the catastrophe which had overtaken him, Morlandson had been a tall, spare man, clean-shaven, and with carefully brushed dark hair. Upon his release he had developed a slight stoop, and although he was still clean-shaven and smart in his appearance, his hair had gone nearly white. He told his solicitor that he knew he had only a few years longer to live, but that he hoped that during that period his researches would confer some benefit upon suffering humanity. He proposed to commence them as soon as he could find a suitable spot for the purpose, where he could live entirely alone.

A few weeks after his release, he found a half-ruined cottage which answered to his requirements, situated in a peculiarly desolate part of the Isle of Purbeck, in Dorsetshire. He took up his residence here, repaired the cottage, and added to it a laboratory, built of concrete. Under the terms of his licence he was compelled to report to the police, and they kept an eye upon his movements. They might have saved themselves the trouble. Once he was established in his cottage, his furthest excursion was to Corfe Castle, the nearest town, to obtain supplies. He lived entirely alone, and invariably walked across the heath to and from his cottage. But, even while living this hermit existence, he was always carefully dressed and shaved. He made no attempt to conceal his identity, but called himself Mr. Morlandson, having dropped the prefix “Doctor.” He had, of course, been struck off the register, and could not have practised as a doctor even had he desired to do so.

The local superintendent to whom he reported conceived a liking for him, and occasionally walked across the heath to visit him. He invariably found him at work in his laboratory, which was plentifully stocked with chemicals of various kinds. He would never allow smoking in the laboratory, for, as he pointed out to the superintendent, the substances with which he was experimenting were highly inflammable, and there was consequently grave risk of fire unless proper precautions were taken.

One night, rather more than a year after Morlandson’s release, flames were seen from Corfe Castle across the heath in the direction of his cottage. The superintendent leapt on his bicycle, and dashed off to the scene. When he arrived, he found the laboratory burning like a furnace, and quite unapproachable. The flames had caught the cottage, which was by then past saving, especially as the only available water supply was from a well fitted with a small bucket. The superintendent, at considerable risk to himself, managed to enter the sitting-room of the cottage, but could see no trace of Morlandson.

By morning the fire had burnt itself out. The cottage had been completely destroyed, only two or three feet of the outer walls remaining. The laboratory, being