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Page 60
"Well, as long as you know all that, there's a common basis
and a common starting-point," remarked Harker, "so I'll begin
at Brake's trial. It was I who arrested Brake. There was no
trouble, no bother. He'd been taken unawares, by an inspector
of the bank. He'd a considerable deficiency--couldn't make
it good--couldn't or wouldn't explain except by half-sullen
hints that he'd been cruelly deceived. There was no defence
--couldn't be. His counsel said that he could--"
"I've read the account of the trial," interrupted Bryce.
"All right--then you know as much as I can tell you on that
point," said Harker. "He got, as you say, ten years. I saw
him just before he was removed and asked him if there was
anything I could do for him about his wife and children. I'd
never seen them--I arrested him at the bank, and, of course,
he was never out of custody after that. He answered in a
queer, curt way that his wife and children were being looked
after. I heard, incidentally, that his wife had left home, or
was from home--there was something mysterious about it--either
as soon as he was arrested or before. Anyway, he said
nothing, and from that moment I never set eyes on him again
until I met him in the street here in Wrychester, the other
night, when he came to the Mitre. I knew him at once--and he
knew me. We met under one of those big standard lamps in the
Market Place--I was following my usual practice of having an
evening walk, last thing before going to bed. And we stopped
and stared at each other. Then he came forward with his hand
out, and we shook hands. 'This is an odd thing!' he said.
'You're the very man I wanted to find! Come somewhere, where
it's quiet, and let me have a word with you.' So--I brought
him here."
Bryce was all attention now--for once he was devoting all his
faculties to tense and absorbed concentration on what another
man could tell, leaving reflections and conclusions on what he
heard until all had been told.
"I brought him here," repeated Harker. "I told him I'd been
retired and was living here, as he saw, alone. I asked him no
questions about himself--I could see he was a well-dressed,
apparently well-to-do man. And presently he began to tell me
about himself. He said that after he'd finished his term he
left England and for some time travelled in Canada and the
United States, and had gone then--on to New Zealand and
afterwards to Australia, where he'd settled down and begun
speculating in wool. I said I hoped he'd done well. Yes, he
said, he'd done very nicely--and then he gave me a quiet dig
in the ribs. 'I'll tell you one thing I've done, Harker,' he
said. 'You were very polite and considerate to me when I'd my
trouble, so I don't mind telling you. I paid the bank every
penny of that money they lost through my foolishness at that
time--every penny, four years ago, with interest, and I've got
their receipt.' 'Delighted to hear it, Mr.--Is it the same
name still?' I said. 'My name ever since I left England,' he
said, giving me a look, 'is Braden--John Braden.' 'Yes,' he
went on, 'I paid 'em--though I never had one penny of the
money I was fool enough to take for the time being--not one
halfpenny!' 'Who had it, Mr. Braden?' I asked him, thinking
that he'd perhaps tell after all that time. 'Never mind, my
lad!' he answered. 'It'll come out--yet. Never mind that,
now. I'll tell you why I wanted to see you. The fact is,
I've only been a few hours in England, so to speak, but I'd
thought of you, and wondered where I could get hold of you
--you're the only man of your profession I ever met, you see,'
he added, with a laugh. 'And I want a bit of help in that
way.' 'Well, Mr. Braden,' I said, 'I've retired, but if it's
an easy job--' 'It's one you can do, easy enough,' he said.
'It's just this--I met a man in Australia who's extremely
anxious to get some news of another man, named Falkiner Wraye,
who hails from Barthorpe, in Leicestershire. I promised to
make inquiries for him. Now, I have strong reasons why I
don't want to go near Barthorpe--Barthorpe has unpleasant
memories and associations for me, and I don't want to be seen
there. But this thing's got to be personal investigation
--will you go here, for me? I'll make it worth your while.
All you've got to do,' he went on, 'is to go there--see the
police authorities, town officials, anybody that knows the
place, and ask them if they can tell you anything of one
Falkiner Wraye, who was at one time a small estate agent in
Barthorpe, left the place about seventeen years ago--maybe
eighteen--and is believed to have recently gone back to the
neighbourhood. That's all. Get what information you can, and
write it to me, care of my bankers in London. Give me a sheet
of paper and I'll put down particulars for you.'"
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