The blue scarab
imagine a case--and one of great medico-legal interest--that would
exactly fit the present circumstances. Let us suppose a man,
hopelessly insolvent, desperate and disgusted with life, who decides
to provide for his family by investing the few pounds that he has left
in insuring his life heavily and then making away with himself. How
would he proceed? If he should commit suicide by any of the orthodox
methods he would simply invalidate his policy. But now, suppose he
knows of a likely rick; that he provides himself with some
rapidly-acting poison, such as potassium cyanide--he could even use
prussic acid if he carried it in a rubber or celluloid bottle, which
would be consumed in the fire; that he climbs on to the rick; sets
fire to it, and as soon as it is fairly alight, takes his dose of
poison and falls back dead among the hay. Who is to contest his
family’s claim? The fire will have destroyed all traces of the poison,
even if they should be sought for. But it is practically certain that
the question would never be raised. The claim would be paid without
demur.”
I could not help smiling at this calm exposition of a practicable
crime. “It is a mercy, Thorndyke,” I remarked, “that you are an honest
man. If you were not----”
“I think,” he retorted, “that I should find some better means of
livelihood than suicide. But with regard to this case: it will be
worth watching. The tramp hypothesis is certainly the most probable;
but its very probability makes an alternative hypothesis at least
possible. No one is likely to suspect fraudulent suicide; but that
immunity from suspicion is a factor that increases the probability of
fraudulent suicide. And so, to a less extent, with homicide. We must
watch the case and see if there are any further developments.”
Further developments were not very long in appearing. The report in
the morning paper disposed effectually of the tramp theory without
offering any other. “The tragedy of the burning rick,” it said, “is
taking a somewhat mysterious turn. It is now clear that the unknown
man, who was assumed to have been a tramp, must have been a person of
some social position, for careful examination of the ashes by the
police have brought to light various articles which would have been
carried only by a man of fair means. The clay pipe was evidently one
of a pair--of which the second one has been recovered--probably silver
mounted and carried in a case, the steel frame of which has been
found. Both pipes are of the ‘Burns Cutty’ pattern and have neatly
scratched on the bowls the initials ‘R.R.’ The following articles have
also been found:--Remains of a watch, probably gold, and a rather
singular watch-chain, having alternate links of platinum and gold. The
gold links have partly disappeared, but numerous beads of gold have
been found, derived apparently from the watch and chain. The platinum
links are intact and are fashioned of twisted square wire. A bunch of
keys, partly fused; a rock crystal seal, apparently from a ring; a
little porcelain mascot figure, with a hole for suspension--possibly
from the watch-chain--and a number of artificial teeth. In connection
with the latter, a puzzling and slightly sinister aspect has been
given to the case by the finding of an upper dental plate by a ditch
some two hundred yards from the rick. The plate has two gaps and, on
comparison with the skull of the unknown man, these have been found by
the police surgeon to correspond with two groups of remaining teeth.
Moreover, the artificial teeth found in the ashes all seem to belong
to a lower plate. The presence of this plate, so far from the scene of
the man’s death, is extremely difficult to account for.”
As Thorndyke finished reading the extract he looked at me as if
inviting some comment.
“It is a most remarkable and mysterious affair,” said I, “and
naturally recalls to my mind the hypothetical case that you suggested
yesterday. If that case was possible then, it is actually probable
now. It fits these new facts perfectly, not only in respect of the
abundant means of identification, but even to this dental plate--if we
assume that he took the poison as he was approaching the rick, and
that the poison was of an acrid or irritating character which caused
him to cough or retch. And I can think of no other plausible
explanation.”
“There _are_ other possibilities,” said Thorndyke, “but fraudulent
suicide is certainly the most probable theory on the known facts. But
we shall see. As you say, the body can hardly fail to be identified at
a pretty early date.”
As a matter of fact it was identified in the course of that same day.
Both Thorndyke and I were busily engaged until evening in the courts
and elsewhere and had not had time to give this curious case any
consideration. But as we walked home together, we encountered Mr.
Stalker of the Griffin Life Assurance Company pacing up and down
King’s Bench Walk near the entry of our chambers.
“Ha!” he exclaimed, striding forward to meet us near the Mitre Court
gateway, “you are just the very men I wanted to see. There is a little
matter that I want to consult you about. I shan’t detain you long.”
“It won’t matter much if you do,” said Thorndyke. “We have finished
our routine work for the day and our time is now our own.” He led the
way up to our chambers, where, having given the fire a stir, he drew
up three arm-chairs.
“Now, Stalker,” said he. “Warm your toes and tell us your troubles.”
Mr. Stalker spread out his hands to the blaze and began reflectively:
“It will be enough, I think, if I give you the facts--and most of them
you probably know already. You have heard about this man whose remains
were found in the ashes of a burnt rick? Well, it turns out that he
was a certain Mr. Reginald Reed, an outside broker, as I understand;
but what is of more interest to us is that he was a client of ours. We
have issued a policy on his life for three thousand pounds. I thought
I remembered the name when I saw it in the paper this afternoon, so I
looked up our books, and there it was, sure enough.”
“When was the policy issued?” Thorndyke asked.
“Ah!” exclaimed Stalker. “That’s the exasperating feature of the case.
The policy was issued less than a year ago. He has only paid a single
premium. So we stand to drop practically the whole three thousand. Of
course, we have to take the fat with the lean, but we don’t like to
take it in such precious large lumps.”
“Of course you don’t,” agreed Thorndyke. “But now: you have come to
consult me--about what?”
“Well,” replied Stalker, “I put it to you: isn’t there something
obviously fishy about the case? Are the circumstances normal? For
instance, how the devil came a respectable city gentleman to be
smoking his pipe in a haystack out in a lonely meadow at two o’clock
in the morning, or thereabouts?”
“I agree,” said Thorndyke, “that the circumstances are highly
abnormal. But there is no doubt that the man is dead. Extremely dead,
if I may use the expression. What is the point that you wish to
raise?”
“I am not raising any point,” replied Stalker. “We should like you to
attend the inquest and watch the case for us. Of course, in our
policies, as you know, suicide is expressly ruled out; and if this
should turn out to have been a case of suicide----”
“What is there to suggest that it was?” asked Thorndyke.
“What is there to suggest that it wasn’t?” retorted Stalker.
“Nothing,” rejoined Thorndyke. “But a negative plea is of no use to
you. You will have to furnish positive proof of suicide, or else pay
the claim.”
“Yes, I realize that,” said Stalker, “and I am not suggesting--but
there, it is of no use discussing the matter while we know so little.
I leave the case in your hands. Can you attend the inquest?”
“I shall make it my business to do so,” replied Thorndyke.
“Very well,” said Stalker, rising and putting on his gloves, “then we
will leave it at that; and we couldn’t leave it in better case.”
When our visitor had gone I remarked to Thorndyke: “Stalker seems to
have conceived the same idea as my learned senior--fraudulent
suicide.”
“It is not surprising,” he replied. “Stalker is a shrewd man and he
perceives that when an abnormal thing has happened we may look for an
abnormal explanation. Fraudulent suicide was a speculative possibility
yesterday: to-day, in the light of these new facts, it is the most
probable theory. But mere probabilities won’t help Stalker. If there
is no direct evidence of suicide--and there is not likely to be
any--the verdict will be Death by Misadventure, and the Griffin
Company will have to pay.”
“I suppose you won’t do anything until you have heard what transpires
at the inquest?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I think we should do well to go down and just go
over the ground. At present we have the facts at third hand, and we
don’t know what may have been overlooked. As to-morrow is fairly free
I propose that we make an early start and see the place ourselves.”
“Is there any particular point that you want to clear up?”
“No; I have nothing definite in view. The circumstances are compatible
with either accident, suicide or homicide, with an undoubted leaning
towards suicide. But, at present, I have a completely open mind. I am,
in fact, going down to Dartford in the hope of getting a lead in some
definite direction.”
When we alighted at Dartford Station on the following morning,
Thorndyke looked enquiringly up and down the platform until he espied
an inspector, when he approached the official and asked for a
direction to the site of the burnt rick.
The official glanced at Thorndyke’s canvas-covered research-case and
at my binocular and camera as he replied with a smile: “You are not
the first, by a long way, that has asked that question. There has been
a regular procession of Press gentlemen that way this morning. The
place is about a mile from here. You take the foot-path to Joyce Green
and turn off towards the creek opposite Temple Farm. This is about
where the rick stood,” he added, as Thorndyke produced his one-inch
ordnance map and a pencil, “a few yards from that dyke.”
With this direction and the open map we set forth from the station,
and taking our way along the unfrequented path soon left the town
behind. As we crossed the second stile, where the path rejoined the
road, Thorndyke paused to survey the prospect. “Stalker’s question,”
he remarked, “was not unreasonable. This road leads nowhere but to the
river, and one does rather wonder what a city man can have been doing
out on these marshes in the small hours of the morning. I think that
will be our objective, where you see those men at work by the
shepherd’s hut, or whatever it is.”
We struck off across the level meadows, out of which arose the red
sails of a couple of barges, creeping down the invisible creek; and as
we approached our objective the shepherd’s hut resolved itself into a
contractor’s office van, and the men were seen to be working with
shovels and sieves on the ashes of the rick. A police inspector was
superintending the operations, and when we drew near he accosted us
with a civil inquiry as to our business.
Thorndyke presented his card and explained that he was watching the
case in the interests of the Griffin Assurance Company. “I suppose,”
he added, “I shall be given the necessary facilities?”
“Certainly,” replied the officer, glancing at my colleague with an odd
mixture of respect and suspicion; “and if you can spot anything that
we’ve overlooked, you are very welcome. It’s all for the public good.
Is there anything in particular that you want to see?”
“I should like to see everything that has been recovered so far. The
remains of the body have been removed, I suppose?”