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Page 86
"Much obliged to you, Mr. Stebbing," he said. "That's
something worth knowing. Now there's something else you can
tell me as long as I'm here--though, to be sure, I could save
you the trouble by using my own eyes. How many banks are
there in this little city of yours?"
"Three," answered Stebbing promptly. "Old Bank, in Monday
Market; Popham & Hargreaves, in the Square; Wrychester Bank,
in Spurriergate. That's the lot."
"Much obliged," said Jettison. "And--for the present--not a
word of what we've talked about. You'll be hearing more
--later."
He went away, memorizing the names of the three banking
establishments--ten minutes later he was in the private
parlour of the first, in serious conversation with its
manager. Here it was necessary to be more secret, and to
insist on more secrecy than with the secretary of the Second
Friendly, and to produce all his credentials and give all his
reasons. But Jettison drew that covert blank, and the next,
too, and it was not until he had been closeted for some time
with the authorities of the third bank that he got, the
information he wanted. And when he had got it, he impressed
secrecy and silence on his informants in a fashion which
showed them that however easy-going his manner might be, he
knew his business as thoroughly as they knew theirs.
It was by that time past one o'clock, and Jettison turned into
the small hotel at which he had lodged himself. He thought
much and gravely while he ate his dinner; he thought still
more while he smoked his after-dinner pipe. And his face was
still heavy with thought when, at three o'clock, he walked
into Mitchington's office and finding the inspector alone shut
the door and drew a chair to Mitchington's desk.
"Now then," he said. "I've had a rare morning's work, and
made a discovery, and you and me, my lad, have got to have
about as serious a bit of talk as we've had since I came
here."
Mitchington pushed his papers aside and showed his keen
attention.
"You remember what that young fellow told us last night about
that man Collishaw paying in fifty pounds to the Second
Friendly two days before his death," said Jettison. "Well, I
thought over that business a lot, early this morning, and I
fancied I saw how I could find something out about it. So I
have--on the strict quiet. That's why I went to the Friendly
Society. The fact was--I wanted to know in what form
Collishaw handed in that fifty pounds. I got to know. Gold!"
Mitchington, whose work hitherto had not led him into the
mysteries of detective enterprise, nodded delightedly.
"Good!" he said. "Rare idea! I should never have thought of
it! And--what do you make out of that, now?"
"Nothing," replied Jettison. "But--a good deal out of what
I've learned since that bit of a discovery. Now, put it to
yourself--whoever it was that paid Collishaw that fifty pounds
in gold did it with a motive. More than one motive, to be
exact--but we'll stick to one, to begin with. The motive for
paying in gold was--avoidance of discovery. A cheque can be
readily traced. So can banknotes. But gold is not easily
traced. Therefore the man who paid Collishaw fifty pounds
took care to provide himself with gold. Now then--how many
men are there in a small place like this who are likely to
carry fifty pounds in gold in their pockets, or to have it at
hand?"
"Not many," agreed Mitchington.
"Just so--and therefore I've been doing a bit of secret
inquiry amongst the bankers, as to who supplied himself with
gold about that date," continued Jettison. "I'd to convince
'em of the absolute necessity of information, too, before I
got any! But I got some--at the third attempt. On the day
previous to that on which Collishaw handed that fifty pounds
to Stebbing, a certain Wrychester man drew fifty pounds in
gold at his bank. Who do you think he was?"
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