June 9, 2025 • 47 mins
Dive into seven captivating mystery stories featuring master detective Martin Hewitt, as narrated by his trusty, yet unnamed, sidekick. Authored by Arthur Morrison, these tales showcase his extraordinary imagination through diverse scenarios, motivations, crimes, and characters. Whether hes hot on the trails of a Russian spy or a household pet, or investigating the theft of national security documents versus the destruction of a counterfeit work of art, Hewitts adventures are as varied as they are thrilling.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter seven of Martin Hewitt Investigator by Arthur Morrison. This
LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter seven, the
Affair of the Tortoise. Very often Hewett was tempted by
the fascination of some particularly odd case to neglect his
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other affairs to follow up a matter that, from a
business point of view, was of little or no value
to him. As a rule, he had a sufficient regard
for his own interests to restrict such temptations. But in
one curious case, at least I believe he allowed it
largely to influence him. It was certainly an extremely odd case,
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one of those affairs that coming to light at intervals,
but more often remaining unheard of by the general public,
convince one that. But after all, there is very little
extravagance about mister R. L. Stevenson's bizarre imaginings of doings
in London in his New Arabian Nights. There is nothing
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in this world that is at all possible. I have
often heard Martin Hewart say that has not happened or
is not happening in London. Certainly he had opportunities of knowing.
The case I have referred to occurred some time before
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my own acquaintance with him began in eighteen seventy eight.
In fact, he had called one Monday morning at an
office in regard to something connected with one of those
uninteresting though often difficult cases which formed perhaps the bulk
of his practice, when he was informed of a most
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mysterious murder that had taken place in another part of
the same building on the previous Saturday afternoon. Owing to
the circumstances of the case, only the vaguest account had
appeared in the morning papers, and even this, as it chanced,
Pewett had not read. The building was one of a
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new row in a partly rebuilt street near the National Gallery.
The whole row had been built by a speculator for
the purpose of letting out in flats, suites of chambers,
and in one or two cases on the ground floors offices.
The rooms had left very well and to desirable tenants.
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As a rule. The least satisfactory tenant the proprietor reluctantly
admitted was a mister Rameau, a Negro gentleman single, who
had three rooms on the top floor, but one of
the particular building that Hewitt was visiting. His rent was
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paid regularly, but his behavior had produced complaints from other tenants.
He got uproariously drunk and screamed and howled in unknown tongues.
He fell asleep on the staircase, and ladies were afraid
to pass. He bawled rough chaff down the stairs and
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along the corridors at butcher boys and messengers, and played
on errand boys brutal practical jokes that ended in police
court summonses. He once had a way of sliding down
the balisters, shouting ho ho ho yah as he went,
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But as he was a big heavy man and the
balisters had been built for different treatment, he had very
soon and very firmly, been requested to stop it. He
had plenty of money and spent it freely, but it
was generally fair that there was too much of the
light hearted savage about him to fit him to live
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among quiet people. How much longer the landlord would have
stood this sort of thing, Hewitt's informant said, was a
matter of conjecture, For on the Saturday afternoon in question,
the tenancy had come to a startling full stop. Rameau
had been murdered in his room, and the body had
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in the most unaccountable fashion been secretly removed from the premises.
The strongest possible suspicion pointed to a man who had
been employed in shoveling and carrying coals, cleaning windows, and
chopping wood for several of the buildings, and who had
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left that very Saturday. The crime had in fact been
committed with this man's chopper, and the man himself had
been heard again and again again to threaten Rameau, who,
in his brutal fashion, had made a butt of him.
This man was a Frenchman, Victor Goujon by name, who
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had lost his employment as a watchmaker by reason of
an injury to his right hand which destroyed its steadiness,
and so he had fallen upon evil days and odd jobs.
He was a little man of no great strength, but
extraordinarily excitable, and the coarse gibes and horseplay of the
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big Negro drove him almost to madness. Rameau would, often,
after some more than ordinarily outrageous attack, contemptuously fling Goujon
a shilling, which the little Frenchman, although wanting a shilling
badly enough, would hurl back in his face, almost weeping
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with impotent rage. Pig Cannai he would scream, dirty pig
of Africa, take your shieling to where you have stole it,
Volle big. There was a tortoise living in the basement
of which Goujon had made rather a pet, and the
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Negro would sometimes use this animal as a missile, flinging
it at the little frenchman's head. On one such occasion,
the tortoise struck the wall so forcibly as to break
its shell, and then Goujeon seized a shovel and rushed
at his tormentor with such blind fury that the latter
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made a bolt of it. These were but a few
of the passages between Rameaux and the fuel porter, but
they illustrate the state of feeling between them. Goujon, after
correspondence with a relative in France who offered him work,
gave notice to leave, which expired on the day of
the crime. At about three that afternoon, a housemaid proceeding
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toward Rameau's rooms, met Gaujon. As he was going away.
Gaujeon bade her good bye, and, pointing in the direction
of Rameau's rooms, said exultantly, there shall be no more
of the black pig for me. Witim I have done
for ZiT I mock me of im evil never tracasseimi
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no mo, and he went away. The girl went to
the outer door of Ramo's rooms, knocked and got no reply.
Concluding that the tenant was out, she was about to
use her keys when she found that the door was unlocked.
She passed through the lobby and into the sitting room,
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and there fell in a dead faint at the sight
that met her eyes. Rameau lay with his back across
the sofa and his head drooping within an inch of
the ground. On the head was a fearful gash, and
below it was a pool of blood. The girl must
have lain unconscious for about ten minutes. When she came
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to her senses. She dragged herself, terrified from the room
and up to the housekeeper's apartments, where, being an excitable
and nervous creature, she only screamed murder and apparently fell
in a fit of hysterics that lasted three quarters of
an hour. When at last she came to herself, she
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told her story, and the hall porter, having been summoned,
Ramo's rooms were again approached. The blood still lay on
the floor, and the chopper with which the crime had
evidently been committed, rested against the fender, but the body
had vanished. A search was at once made, but no
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trace of it could be seen anywhere. It seemed impossible
that it could have been carried out of the building,
for the hall porter must at once have noticed anybody
leaving with so bulky a burden. Still in the building,
it was not to be found. When Hewitt was informed
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of these things on Monday, the police were of course
still in possession of Ramo's rooms. Inspector Nettings, Hewitt was told,
was in charge of the case, and as the inspector
was an acquaintance of his and was then in the
room upstairs, Hewitt went up to see him. Nettigs was
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pleased to see Hewitt and invited him to look around
the rooms. Perhaps you can spot something we have overlooked,
he said, though it's not a case, there can be
much doubt about. You think it's Goujon, don't you think? Well,
rather look here. As soon as we got here on Saturday,
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we found this piece of paper and pin on the floor.
We showed it to the housemaid and then she remembered
she was too much upset to think of it before
that when she was in the room. The paper was
laying on the dead man's chest, pinned there. Evidently it
must have dropped off when they removed the body. It's
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a case of half mad revenge on Goujeon's part. Plainly
see it. You read French, don't you. The paper was
a plain large half sheet of note paper on which
a sentence in French was scrawled in red ink in
a large clumsy hand. Thus, poonie par vonngeur de la tourtiu,
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poonie par vanngeurs de lat tourtiu hewitt repeated, musingly punished
by an adventure of the tortoise. That seems odd, well,
rather odd, but you understand the reference. Of course. Have
they told you about Ramo's treatment of Gujeon's pet tortoise.
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I think it was mentioned among his other pranks. But
this is an extreme revenge for a thing of that sort,
and a queer way of announcing it. Oh, he's mad,
mad with Ramo's continual ragging and baiting nettings answered anyway,
this is a plain indication, plain as though he left
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his own signature. Besides, it's in his own language, French.
And there's his chopper too. Speaking of signatures. Pwett remarked,
perhaps you have already compared this with other specimens of
Goujon's writing. I did think of it, but they don't
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seem to have a specimen to hand, and anyway, it
doesn't seem very important. There's avenger of the tortoise, plain
enough in the man's own language, and that tells everything. Besides,
handwritings are easily disguised. Have you got Goujon? Well, no,
we haven't. There seems to be some little difficulty about that,
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but I expect to have him by this time tomorrow.
Here comes mister Styles, the landlord. Mister Styles was a thin,
querulous and withered looking little man who twitched his eyebrows
as he spoke, and spoke in short, jerky phrases. No news, eh,
inspector eh ah found out nothing else. A terrible thing
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for my property? Terrible? Who's your friend? Nettings introduced Hewitt.
Shocking thing this, eh, mister Hewitt. Terrible comes of having
anything to do with these bloodthirsty foreigners. Eh. New buildings
at all, character ruined. No one comes to live here now, eh, tenants,
noisy niggers murdered by my own servants. Terrible. You formed
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any opinion. Eh I dare say I might if I
went into the case. Yes, yes, same opinion as inspectors. Eh,
I mean an opinion of your own. The old man
scrutinized Hewett's face sharply. If you'd like me to look
into the matter, Hewitt began, eh, oh, look into it. Well,
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I can't commission you, you know, matter for the police.
Mischief Stunn police doing very well, I think must be goujon.
But look about the place certainly if you like. If
you see anything likely to serve my interests, tell me
and and perhaps I'll employ you. Eh, eh, good afternoon.
The landlord vanished, and the inspector laughed. Likes to see
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what he's buying, does mister Styles, he said. Hewett's first
impulse was to walk out of the place at once,
but his interest in the case had been round, and
he determined at any rate to examine the rooms, and
this he did very minutely. By the side of the
lobby was a bathroom, and in this was fitted a
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tip up wash basin, which Hewett inspected with particular attention.
Then he called the housekeeper and made inquiries about Ramo's
clothes and linen. The housekeeper could give no idea of
how many overcoats or how much linen he had had.
He had all a Negro's love of display, and was
continually buying new clothes, which indeed were lying, hanging, littering,
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and choking up the bedroom in all directions. The housekeeper, however,
on Hewett's inquiring after such a garment in particular, did
remember one heavy black ulster which Ramo had very rarely worn,
only in the coldest weather. After the body was discovered,
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Hewitt asked the housekeeper. Was any stranger observed about the place,
whether carrying anything or not. No, sir, the housekeeper replied,
there's been particular inquiries about that. Of course, after we
knew what was wrong and the body was gone, nobody
was seen or he'd have been stopped. But the hall
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porter says he's certain no stranger came or went for
half an hour or more before that, a time about
when the housemaid saw the body and fainted. At this moment,
a clerk from the landlord's office arrived and handed Nettings
a paper. Here you are, said Nettings to Hewet. They've
found a specimen of Goujon's handwriting. At last, if you'd
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like to see it. I don't want it. I'm not
a graphologist, and the case is clear enough for me anyway,
Hewitt took the paper. This, he said, is a different
sort of handwriting from that on the paper. The ink
note about the avenger of the tortoise is in a crude, large, clumsy,
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untaught style of writing. This is small, neat and well formed,
except that is a trifle shaky, probably because of the
hand injury. That's nothing contended, Nettings. Handwriting clues are worse
than useless. As a rule, it's so easy to disguise
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and imitate writing. And besides, if Goujon is such a
good penman, as you seem to say, why he could
all the easier alter his style. Say now yourself, can
any fiddling question of handwriting? Get over this thing about
avenging the tortoise practically a written confession to say nothing
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of the chopper and what he said to the housemaid
as he left, Well, said Hewett, perhaps not, but we'll
see meantime. Turning to the landlord's clerk, possibly you will
be good enough to tell me one or two things. First,
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what was Goujon's character excellent as far as we knew.
We never had a complaint about him, except for little
matters of carelessness, leaving coal scuttles on the stairs for
people to fall over, losing shovels, and so on. He
was certainly a bit careless, but as far as we
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could see, quite a decent little fellow. One would never
have thought him capable of committing murder for the sake
of a tortoise, though he was rather fond of the animal.
The tortoise is dead now, I understand. Yes, have you
a lift in this building only for coals and heavy parcels.
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Gaujeon used to work it, sometimes, going up and down
in it himself with coals and so on. It goes
into the basement. And are the coals kept under this building? No?
This door for the whole row is under the next
two houses. The basements communicate. Do you know Ramo's other name,
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saysar Ramo. He signed in our agreement. Did he ever
mention his relations? No, that is to say, he did
say something one day when he was very drunk, but
of course it was all rot. Someone told him not
to make such a row. He was such a beastly tenant,
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and he said he was the best man in the place,
and his brother was Prime minister, and all sorts of
things mere drunken rant. I never heard of his saying
anything sensible about relations. We know nothing of his connections.
He came here on a banker's reference. Thanks. I think
that's all I want to ask you. Notice, Hewitt proceeded,
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turning to the only ink in this place is scented
and violet, and the only paper is tinted and scented too,
with a monogram characteristic of a negro with money. The
paper that was pinned on Rameau's breast is in red
ink on common and rather grubby paper. Therefore it was
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written somewhere else and brought here inference premeditation? Yes, yes,
But are you an inch nearer with all these speculations?
Can you get nearer than I am now without them? Well?
Perhaps not, Hewitt replied, I don't profess at this moment
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to know the criminal. You do. I'll concede you that
point for the present. But you don't offer an opinion
as to who removed Ramo's body, which I think I
know who was it? Then come try and guess that
yourself it wasn't Goujon. I don't mind letting you know that.
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But it was a person quite within your knowledge of
the case. You've mentioned the person's name more than once.
Nettings stared blankly. I don't understand you in the least,
he said, But of course you mean that this mysterious
person you speak of as having moved the body committed
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the murder. No, I don't. Nobody could have been more
innocent of that. Well, Nettings concluded with resignation. I'm afraid
one of us is rather thick headed. What will you
do interview the person who took away the body? Hewitt
replied with a smile. But man alive? Why why bother
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about the person? If it isn't the criminal? Never mind?
Never mind? Probably the person will be a most valuable witness.
Do you mean you think this person, whoever it is,
saw the crime? I think it very probable. Indeed, Well,
I won't ask you any more. I shall get hold
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of Goujon. That's simple and direct enough for me. I
prefer to deal with the heart of the case, the
murder itself, when there's such clear evidence as I have.
I shall look a little into that too, perhaps, Hewitt said,
And if you like, I'll tell you the first thing
I shall do what's that, I shall have a good
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look at a map of the West Indies, and I
advise you to do the same. Good morning. Nettings stared
down the corridor after Hewett and continued staring for nearly
two minutes after he had disappeared. Then he said to
the clerk who had remained, what was he talking about?
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Don't know, replied the clerk. Couldn't make head nor tail
of it. I don't believe there is a head to it,
declared Nettings, nor a tale either. He's kidding us. Nettings
was better than his word, for within two hours of
his conversation with Hewitt, Goujon was captured and safe in
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a cab bound for Bow Street. He had been stopped
at New Haven in the morning on his way to
Dieppe and was brought back to London. But now Nettings
met a check late that afternoon, he called on Hewitt
to explain matters. We've got Goujon, he said gloomily. But
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there's a difficulty. He's got two friends who can swear
an alibi. Rameaux was seen alive at half past one
on Saturday, and the girl found him dead about three Now,
Goujon's two friends it seems, were with him from one
o'clock till four in the afternoon, with the exception of
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five minutes when the girl saw him, and then he
left them to take a key or something to the housekeeper.
Before finally leaving. They were waiting on the landing below
when Goujeon spoke to the housemaid, heard him speaking, and
had seen him go all the way up to the
housekeeper's room and back as they looked up the wide
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well of the staircase. They are men employed near the place,
and seem to have good characters, but perhaps we shall
find something unfavorable about them. They were drinking with Gujeon,
it seems by way of seeing him off well, Hewett said,
I scarcely think you need trouble to damage these men's characters.
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They are probably telling the truth. Come now, be plain.
You've come here to get a hint as to whether
my theory of the case helps you, haven't you? Well
if you can give me a friendly hint, Although of
course I may be right after all. Still, I wish
you'd explain a bit as to what you meant by
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looking at a map and all that mystery. Nice thing
for me to be taking a lesson in my own
business after all these years. But perhaps I deserve it.
See now, quoth Hewitt, you remember what map I told
you to look at the West Indies. Right well, here
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you are. Hewitt reached an atlas from his bookshelf. The
biggest island of the lot on this map bar in Cuba,
is Haiti. You know as well as I do, that
the western part of that island is peopled by the
Black Republic of Haiti, and that the country is in
a degenerate state of almost unexampled savagery with a ridiculous
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show of civilization. There are revolutions all the time. The
South American republics are peaceful and prosperous compared to Haiti.
The state of the country is simply awful. Read Sir
Spencer Saint John's book on it. President after president of
the vilest sort forces his way to power and commits
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the most horrible and bloodthirsty excesses, murdering his opponents by
the hundred and seizing their property for himself and his satellites,
who are usually as bad, if not worse than the
president himself. Whole families, men, women and children are murdered
at the instance of these Ruffians, and as a consequence,
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the most deadly feuds spring up, and the presidents and
their followers are always themselves in danger of reprisals from others.
Perhaps the very worst of these presidents in recent times
has been the notorious Domage, who was overthrown by an insurrection,
as they all are sooner or later, and compelled to
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fly the country. Do mag and his nephews, one of
whom was chief Minister while in power, committed the cruelest bloodshed,
and many members of the opposite party sought refuge in
a small island lying just to the north of Haiti,
but were sought out there and almost exterminated. Now I
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will show you that island on the map. What is
its name? Tortuga? It is Tortuga, however, is only the
old Spanish name. The Haitians speak French Creole French. Here
is a French atlas. Now see the name of that island, latourtu,
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la tortu. It is the tortoise. Tortuga means the same
thing in Spanish, but that island is always spoken of
in Haiti as latourtu. Now do you see the drift
of that paper pinned to Rameau's breast, punished by an
avenger of or from the tortoise or la Tourtieu. Clear enough,
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it would seem that the dead man had something to
do with the massacre there, and somebody from the island
is avenging it. The thing's most extraordinary. And now listen.
The name of Domag's nephew, who was chief minister, was
Septimus Rameau, and this was Caesa Rameau, his brother. Probably,
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I see, well, this is a case. I think the
relationship probable. Now you understand why I was inclined to
doubt that Goujon was the man you wanted. Of course,
of course, and now I suppose I must try to
get a nigger. The chap who wrote that paper, I
wish he hadn't been such an ignorant nigger. If he'd
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only have put the capitals to the words lattu, I
might have thought a little more about them, instead of
taking it for granted that they meant that wretched tortoise
in the basement of the house. Well, I've made a
fool of a start, but I'll be after that nigger now.
And I, as I said before, said hewet shall be
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after the person that carried off Ramo's body. I have
had something else to do this afternoon, or I should
have begun already. You said that you thought he saw
the crime. How did you judge that? Hewitt smiled. I
think I'll keep that little secret to myself for the present,
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he said, you shall know soon very well. Nettings replied
with resignation. I suppose I mustn't grumble if you don't
tell me everything. I feel too great a fool altogether
over this case to see any farther than you show
me and in space. Doctor Nettings left on his search,
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while Martin Hewitt, as soon as he was alone, laughed
joyously and slapped his thigh. There was a cab rank
and shelter at the end of the street where mister
Styles's building stood, and early that evening a man approached
it and hailed to the cabman and the waterman. Anyone
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would have known the newcomer at once for a cabman
taking a holiday. The brim of the hat, the bird's
eye neckerchief, the immense coat buttons, and more than all,
the rolling walk and the wrinkled trousers marked him out distinctly.
Watch here, he exclaimed affably, with the self possessed nod
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only possible to cabbies and busman. I'm lookin for a bilker.
I'm told one of the blokes off this rank carried
him last Saturday, and I want to know where he went.
I ain't that a chance a gettin his? Yet took
a cab just as it got dark, untold, tallish chap
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muffled up a lot in a long black overcoat. Any
of you've seen him? The cabbies looked at one another
and shook their heads. It chanced that none of them
had been on that particular rank at that time. But
the waterman said, hold on, I bet he's the bloke
what Old Bill Stammers took Yorky was fussed on the rank.
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But the bloke wouldn't have a hansom, wanted a four wheeler,
So Old Bill took him. Biggest chap and a long
black coat, collar up and muffled, thick, soft, wide awake
at pulled over his eyes, and he was in a
hurry too, jumped in sharp as a weasel. Didn't see
his face, did ye, Nope, not an inch of it.
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Too much muffled. Couldn't tell if he'd added face. Was
his arm in a sling. I it looked so added
stuff through the breast of his coat, like as though
there might be a sling inside. That's him. Any of
ye tell me where I might run across Old Bill Stammers,
They'll tell me where my precious milker went to. As
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to this there was plenty of information, and in five
minutes Martin Hewitt, who had become an unoccupied cabman for
the occasion, was on his way to find Old Bill Stammers.
That respectable old man gave him full particulars as to
the place in the East End where he had driven
his muffled fare on Saturday, and Hewitt then began an
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eighteen or twenty hours search beyond Whitechapel. At about three
on Tuesday afternoon, as Nettings was in the act of
leaving Bow Street Police station, Hewitt drove up in a
four wheeler. Some prisoner appeared to be crouching low in
the vehicle, but leaving him to take care of himself,
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Hewitt hurried in to the station and shook Nettings by
the hand. Well, he said, have you got the murderer
at Ramo? Yet? No Nettings growled unless well Goujon's under
remand still and after all I've been thinking that he
may know something. Oooh nonsense, Hewett answered, you'd better let
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him go. Now. I have got somebody, Hewitt laughed and
slapped the inspector's shoulder. I've got the man who carried
Ramo's body away, the deuce you have where? Bring him in.
We must have him, all right, don't be in a hurry.
He won't bolt, and Hewitt stepped out to the cab
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and produced his prisoner, who, pulling his hat farther over
his eyes, hurried furtively into the station. One hand was
stowed in the breast of his long coat, and below
the wide brim of his hat, a small piece of
white man could be seen, and as he lifted his face,
it was seen to be that of a Negro. Inspector
(33:08):
Nettings Pwett said, ceremoniously, allow me to introduce mister Cesar Rameau.
Nettings gasped what he at length ejaculated, what you your Ramo?
The Negro looked round nervously and shrank farther from the door. Yes,
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he said, but please not so loud, Please not so loud.
They may be near, and I am afraid you will certify,
will you not? Asked Hewett with malicious glee, not only
that you were not murdered last Saturday by Victor Goujon,
but that, in fact you were not murdered at all,
(33:51):
also that you carried your own body away in the
usual fashion on your own legs. Yes, yes, responded Rameaux,
looking haggardly about. But is not zis rum publique. I
should not be seen nonsense, replied Hewett, rather testily. You
(34:11):
exaggerate your danger and your own importance, and your enemy's
abilities as well. You're safe enough, I suppose, then, Nettings
remarked slowly, like a man on whose mind something vast
was beginning to dawn. I suppose, why hang it. You
(34:32):
must have just got up while that fool of a
girl was screaming and fainting upstairs, and walked out. They say,
there is nothing so hard as a nigger's skull, and
yours certainly made a fool of me. But then somebody
must have chopped you over the head. Who was it?
My enemies, my great enemies, enemies, But eetique, I am
(34:56):
a great man, this with a faint revival ofanity amid
his fear, a great man. In my country they have
great secret club sieties to kill me, me and my friends,
and one enemy coming in my rooms does zis one
two he indicated wrist and head VI a choppa. Rameau
(35:21):
made the case plain to Netting, so far as the
actual circumstances of the assault on himself were concerned. A
negro whom he had noticed near the place more than
once during the previous day or two, had attacked him
suddenly in his rooms, healing him two savage blows with
a chopper. The first he had caught on his wrist,
(35:42):
which was seriously damaged as well as excruciatingly painful, but
the second had taken effect on his head. His assailant
had evidently gone away then, leaving him for dead. But
as a matter of fact, he was only stunned by
the shock, and had, thanks to the ademantine thickness of
(36:04):
the negro's skull and the ill direction of the chopper,
only a very bad scalp wound, the bone being no
more than grazed. He had lain insensible for some time,
and must have come to his senses soon after the
housemaid had left the room. Terrified at the knowledge that
his enemies had found him out, his only thought was
(36:26):
to get away and hide himself. He hastily washed and
tied up his head, enveloped himself in the biggest coat
he could find, and let himself down into the basement
by the coal lift for fear of observation. He waited
in the basement of one of the adjoining buildings till dark,
and then got away in a cab with the idea
(36:47):
of hiding himself in the East end. He had had
very little money with him on his flight, and it
was by reason of this circumstance that Hewet, when he
found him, had prevailed on him to leave his hiding place,
since it would be impossible for him to touch any
of the large sums of money in the keeping of
his bank so long as he was supposed to be dead.
(37:11):
With much difficulty and the promise of ample police protection,
he was at last convinced that it would be safe
to declare himself and get his property, and then run
away and hide wherever he pleased. Nettings and Hewett strolled
off together for a few minutes and chatted, leaving the
wretched Rameau to cower in a corner among several policemen.
(37:36):
Well mister Hewitt, Nettings said, this case has certainly been
a shocking beating for me. I must have been as
blind as a bat when I started on it. And
yet I don't see that you had a deal to
go on even now. What struck you first? Well, in
the beginning, it seemed rather odd to me that the
(37:58):
body should have been taken away, as I had been
told it was, after the written paper had been pinned
on it. Why should the murderer pin a label on
the body of his victim if he meant carrying that
body away? Who would read the label and learn of
the nature of the revenge gratified? Plainly that indicated that
(38:20):
the person who had carried away the body was not
the person who had committed the murder. But as soon
as I began to examine the place, I saw the
probability that there was no murder after all. There were
any number of indications of this fact, and I can't
understand you are not observing them. First. Although there was
(38:42):
a good deal of blood on the floor just below
where the housemaid had seen Rameau lying, there was none
between that place and the door. Now, if the body
had been dragged or even carried to the door, blood
must have been smeared about the floor, or at least
there would have been drops, but there were none, and
this seemed to hint that the corpse might have come
(39:04):
to itself, sat up on the sofa, stanched the wound,
and walked out. I reflected at once that Rameau was
a full blooded Negro, and that a negro's head is
very nearly invulnerable to anything short of bullets. Then if
the body had been dragged out as such, a heavy
(39:25):
body must have been almost of necessity. The carpet and
rugs would show signs of the fact, but there were
no such signs. But beyond these there was the fact
that no long black overcoat was left with the other clothes.
Although the housekeeper distinctly remembered Rameau's possession of such a garment,
(39:48):
I judged he would use some such thing to assist
his disguise, which was why I asked her. Why he
would want to disguise was plain, as you shall see. Presently,
there were no towels left in the bathroom, inference used
for bandages. Everything seemed to show that the only person
(40:09):
responsible for Rameau's removal was Rameau himself. Why then, had
he gone away secretly and hurriedly without making complaint, and
why had he stayed away? What reason would he have
for doing this if it had been Gaujon that had
attacked him, None, Gaujeon was going to France. Clearly rameau
(40:33):
was afraid of another attack from some implacable enemy whom
he was anxious to avoid, one against whom he feared
legal complaint or defense would be useless. This brought me
at once to the paper found on the floor. If
this were the work of Gaujon, and an open reference
to his tortoise, why should he be at such pains
(40:55):
to disguise his handwriting. He would have been already pointing
himself out by the mere mention of the tortoise. And
if he could not avoid a shake in his natural,
small handwriting, how could he have avoided it in a large, clumsy,
slowly drawn, assumed hand. No, the paper was not Goujon's.
(41:20):
As to the writing on the paper, Nettings interposed. I've
told you how I made that mistake. I took the
readiest explanation of the words, since they seemed so pat
and I wouldn't let anything else out weigh that. As
to the other things, the evidences of Ramos having gone
off by himself. Well, I don't usually miss such obvious things,
(41:44):
but I never thought of the possibility of the victim
going away on the quiet and not coming back as
though he'd done something wrong. Comes of starting with a
set of fixed notions, Well, answered Hwing, But I fancy
you must have been rather out of form. As they say,
everybody has his stupid days, and you can't keep up
(42:07):
to concert pitch forever. To return to the case, the
evidence of the chopper was very untrustworthy, especially when I
heard of Gujan's careless habits, losing shovels and leaving coal
scuttles on stairs. Nothing more likely than for the chopper
to be left lying about, and a criminal who had
(42:30):
calculated his chances would know the advantage to himself of
using a weapon that belonged to the place and leaving
it behind to divert suspicion. It is quite possible, by
the way, that the man who attacked Rameau got away
down the coal lift and out by an adjoining basement,
just as Rameau himself did. This, however, is mere conjecture.
(42:54):
The would be murderer had plainly prepared for the crime.
Witness the pres preparation of the paper declaring his revenge
an indication of his pride at having run his enemy
to earth at such a distant place as this, although
I expect he was only in England by chance, for
Haitians are not a persistently energetic race in regard to
(43:19):
the use of small instead of capital letters in the
words Latteurtiu on the paper, I observed in the beginning
that the first letter of the whole sentence, the p
in punis, was a small one. Clearly the writer was
an illiterate man, and it was at once plain that
he may have made the same mistake with ensuing words.
(43:42):
On the whole it was plain that everybody had begun
with a too ready disposition to assume that Boujon was guilty.
Everybody insisted too that the body had been carried away,
which was true, of course, although not in the sense intended.
So I didn't trouble to contradict, or to say more
than that I guessed who had carried the body off,
(44:06):
And to tell you the truth, I was a little
piqued at mister Styles's manner, and indisposed interested in the case,
as I was to give away my theories too freely.
The rest of the job was not very difficult, I
found out the cabman who had taken Rameau away. You
(44:26):
can always get readier help from cabbies if you go
as one of themselves, especially if you are after a bilker,
and from him got a sufficiently near east end education
to find Ramo. After inquiries, I ventured by the way
on a rather long shot. I described my man to
the cabman as having an injured arm or wrist, and
(44:50):
it turned out a correct guess. You see, a man
making an attack with a chopper is pretty certain to
make more than a single blow, And as there appeared
to have been only a single wound on the head,
it seemed probable that another had fallen somewhere else, almost
certainly on the arm, as it would be raised to
(45:11):
defend the head. At Limehouse I found he had had
his head and wrist attended to at a local medico's.
And a big nigger in a fright with a long
black coat, a broken head and a lame hand is
not so difficult to find in a small area. How
(45:32):
I persuaded him up here you know already I think
I frightened him a little too by explaining how easily
I had tracked him and giving him a hint that
others might do the same. He is in a great funk.
He seemed to have quite lost faith in England as
a safe asylum. The police failed to catch Ramo's assailant,
(45:58):
chiefly because Ramo would not be got to give a
proper description of him, nor to do anything except get
out of the country in a hurry. In truth, he
was glad to be quit of the matter, with nothing
worse than his broken head. Little Gaujeon made a wild
storm about his arrest, and before he did go to France,
(46:21):
managed to extract twenty pounds from Rameaux by way of
compensation in spite of the absence of any strictly legal
claim against his old tormentor, so that on the whole
Gaujeon was about the only person who derived any particular
profit from the Tortoise mystery. End of chapter seven end
(46:49):
of Martin Hewitt Investigator by Arthur Morrison. Recording by Kirsten Webber.
Chapter seven of Martin Hewitt Investigator by Arthur Morrison. This
LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter seven, the
Affair of the Tortoise. Very often Hewett was tempted by
the fascination of some particularly odd case to neglect his
(00:23):
other affairs to follow up a matter that, from a
business point of view, was of little or no value
to him. As a rule, he had a sufficient regard
for his own interests to restrict such temptations. But in
one curious case, at least I believe he allowed it
largely to influence him. It was certainly an extremely odd case,
(00:49):
one of those affairs that coming to light at intervals,
but more often remaining unheard of by the general public,
convince one that. But after all, there is very little
extravagance about mister R. L. Stevenson's bizarre imaginings of doings
in London in his New Arabian Nights. There is nothing
(01:15):
in this world that is at all possible. I have
often heard Martin Hewart say that has not happened or
is not happening in London. Certainly he had opportunities of knowing.
The case I have referred to occurred some time before
(01:35):
my own acquaintance with him began in eighteen seventy eight.
In fact, he had called one Monday morning at an
office in regard to something connected with one of those
uninteresting though often difficult cases which formed perhaps the bulk
of his practice, when he was informed of a most
(01:57):
mysterious murder that had taken place in another part of
the same building on the previous Saturday afternoon. Owing to
the circumstances of the case, only the vaguest account had
appeared in the morning papers, and even this, as it chanced,
Pewett had not read. The building was one of a
(02:19):
new row in a partly rebuilt street near the National Gallery.
The whole row had been built by a speculator for
the purpose of letting out in flats, suites of chambers,
and in one or two cases on the ground floors offices.
The rooms had left very well and to desirable tenants.
(02:42):
As a rule. The least satisfactory tenant the proprietor reluctantly
admitted was a mister Rameau, a Negro gentleman single, who
had three rooms on the top floor, but one of
the particular building that Hewitt was visiting. His rent was
(03:03):
paid regularly, but his behavior had produced complaints from other tenants.
He got uproariously drunk and screamed and howled in unknown tongues.
He fell asleep on the staircase, and ladies were afraid
to pass. He bawled rough chaff down the stairs and
(03:23):
along the corridors at butcher boys and messengers, and played
on errand boys brutal practical jokes that ended in police
court summonses. He once had a way of sliding down
the balisters, shouting ho ho ho yah as he went,
(03:43):
But as he was a big heavy man and the
balisters had been built for different treatment, he had very
soon and very firmly, been requested to stop it. He
had plenty of money and spent it freely, but it
was generally fair that there was too much of the
light hearted savage about him to fit him to live
(04:06):
among quiet people. How much longer the landlord would have
stood this sort of thing, Hewitt's informant said, was a
matter of conjecture, For on the Saturday afternoon in question,
the tenancy had come to a startling full stop. Rameau
had been murdered in his room, and the body had
(04:29):
in the most unaccountable fashion been secretly removed from the premises.
The strongest possible suspicion pointed to a man who had
been employed in shoveling and carrying coals, cleaning windows, and
chopping wood for several of the buildings, and who had
(04:49):
left that very Saturday. The crime had in fact been
committed with this man's chopper, and the man himself had
been heard again and again again to threaten Rameau, who,
in his brutal fashion, had made a butt of him.
This man was a Frenchman, Victor Goujon by name, who
(05:12):
had lost his employment as a watchmaker by reason of
an injury to his right hand which destroyed its steadiness,
and so he had fallen upon evil days and odd jobs.
He was a little man of no great strength, but
extraordinarily excitable, and the coarse gibes and horseplay of the
(05:32):
big Negro drove him almost to madness. Rameau would, often,
after some more than ordinarily outrageous attack, contemptuously fling Goujon
a shilling, which the little Frenchman, although wanting a shilling
badly enough, would hurl back in his face, almost weeping
(05:53):
with impotent rage. Pig Cannai he would scream, dirty pig
of Africa, take your shieling to where you have stole it,
Volle big. There was a tortoise living in the basement
of which Goujon had made rather a pet, and the
(06:14):
Negro would sometimes use this animal as a missile, flinging
it at the little frenchman's head. On one such occasion,
the tortoise struck the wall so forcibly as to break
its shell, and then Goujeon seized a shovel and rushed
at his tormentor with such blind fury that the latter
(06:35):
made a bolt of it. These were but a few
of the passages between Rameaux and the fuel porter, but
they illustrate the state of feeling between them. Goujon, after
correspondence with a relative in France who offered him work,
gave notice to leave, which expired on the day of
the crime. At about three that afternoon, a housemaid proceeding
(07:01):
toward Rameau's rooms, met Gaujon. As he was going away.
Gaujeon bade her good bye, and, pointing in the direction
of Rameau's rooms, said exultantly, there shall be no more
of the black pig for me. Witim I have done
for ZiT I mock me of im evil never tracasseimi
(07:25):
no mo, and he went away. The girl went to
the outer door of Ramo's rooms, knocked and got no reply.
Concluding that the tenant was out, she was about to
use her keys when she found that the door was unlocked.
She passed through the lobby and into the sitting room,
(07:46):
and there fell in a dead faint at the sight
that met her eyes. Rameau lay with his back across
the sofa and his head drooping within an inch of
the ground. On the head was a fearful gash, and
below it was a pool of blood. The girl must
have lain unconscious for about ten minutes. When she came
(08:10):
to her senses. She dragged herself, terrified from the room
and up to the housekeeper's apartments, where, being an excitable
and nervous creature, she only screamed murder and apparently fell
in a fit of hysterics that lasted three quarters of
an hour. When at last she came to herself, she
(08:32):
told her story, and the hall porter, having been summoned,
Ramo's rooms were again approached. The blood still lay on
the floor, and the chopper with which the crime had
evidently been committed, rested against the fender, but the body
had vanished. A search was at once made, but no
(08:55):
trace of it could be seen anywhere. It seemed impossible
that it could have been carried out of the building,
for the hall porter must at once have noticed anybody
leaving with so bulky a burden. Still in the building,
it was not to be found. When Hewitt was informed
(09:15):
of these things on Monday, the police were of course
still in possession of Ramo's rooms. Inspector Nettings, Hewitt was told,
was in charge of the case, and as the inspector
was an acquaintance of his and was then in the
room upstairs, Hewitt went up to see him. Nettigs was
(09:36):
pleased to see Hewitt and invited him to look around
the rooms. Perhaps you can spot something we have overlooked,
he said, though it's not a case, there can be
much doubt about. You think it's Goujon, don't you think? Well,
rather look here. As soon as we got here on Saturday,
(09:59):
we found this piece of paper and pin on the floor.
We showed it to the housemaid and then she remembered
she was too much upset to think of it before
that when she was in the room. The paper was
laying on the dead man's chest, pinned there. Evidently it
must have dropped off when they removed the body. It's
(10:20):
a case of half mad revenge on Goujeon's part. Plainly
see it. You read French, don't you. The paper was
a plain large half sheet of note paper on which
a sentence in French was scrawled in red ink in
a large clumsy hand. Thus, poonie par vonngeur de la tourtiu,
(10:45):
poonie par vanngeurs de lat tourtiu hewitt repeated, musingly punished
by an adventure of the tortoise. That seems odd, well,
rather odd, but you understand the reference. Of course. Have
they told you about Ramo's treatment of Gujeon's pet tortoise.
(11:07):
I think it was mentioned among his other pranks. But
this is an extreme revenge for a thing of that sort,
and a queer way of announcing it. Oh, he's mad,
mad with Ramo's continual ragging and baiting nettings answered anyway,
this is a plain indication, plain as though he left
(11:28):
his own signature. Besides, it's in his own language, French.
And there's his chopper too. Speaking of signatures. Pwett remarked,
perhaps you have already compared this with other specimens of
Goujon's writing. I did think of it, but they don't
(11:48):
seem to have a specimen to hand, and anyway, it
doesn't seem very important. There's avenger of the tortoise, plain
enough in the man's own language, and that tells everything. Besides,
handwritings are easily disguised. Have you got Goujon? Well, no,
we haven't. There seems to be some little difficulty about that,
(12:12):
but I expect to have him by this time tomorrow.
Here comes mister Styles, the landlord. Mister Styles was a thin,
querulous and withered looking little man who twitched his eyebrows
as he spoke, and spoke in short, jerky phrases. No news, eh,
inspector eh ah found out nothing else. A terrible thing
(12:36):
for my property? Terrible? Who's your friend? Nettings introduced Hewitt.
Shocking thing this, eh, mister Hewitt. Terrible comes of having
anything to do with these bloodthirsty foreigners. Eh. New buildings
at all, character ruined. No one comes to live here now, eh, tenants,
noisy niggers murdered by my own servants. Terrible. You formed
(13:01):
any opinion. Eh I dare say I might if I
went into the case. Yes, yes, same opinion as inspectors. Eh,
I mean an opinion of your own. The old man
scrutinized Hewett's face sharply. If you'd like me to look
into the matter, Hewitt began, eh, oh, look into it. Well,
(13:24):
I can't commission you, you know, matter for the police.
Mischief Stunn police doing very well, I think must be goujon.
But look about the place certainly if you like. If
you see anything likely to serve my interests, tell me
and and perhaps I'll employ you. Eh, eh, good afternoon.
The landlord vanished, and the inspector laughed. Likes to see
(13:49):
what he's buying, does mister Styles, he said. Hewett's first
impulse was to walk out of the place at once,
but his interest in the case had been round, and
he determined at any rate to examine the rooms, and
this he did very minutely. By the side of the
lobby was a bathroom, and in this was fitted a
(14:11):
tip up wash basin, which Hewett inspected with particular attention.
Then he called the housekeeper and made inquiries about Ramo's
clothes and linen. The housekeeper could give no idea of
how many overcoats or how much linen he had had.
He had all a Negro's love of display, and was
continually buying new clothes, which indeed were lying, hanging, littering,
(14:36):
and choking up the bedroom in all directions. The housekeeper, however,
on Hewett's inquiring after such a garment in particular, did
remember one heavy black ulster which Ramo had very rarely worn,
only in the coldest weather. After the body was discovered,
(14:57):
Hewitt asked the housekeeper. Was any stranger observed about the place,
whether carrying anything or not. No, sir, the housekeeper replied,
there's been particular inquiries about that. Of course, after we
knew what was wrong and the body was gone, nobody
was seen or he'd have been stopped. But the hall
(15:19):
porter says he's certain no stranger came or went for
half an hour or more before that, a time about
when the housemaid saw the body and fainted. At this moment,
a clerk from the landlord's office arrived and handed Nettings
a paper. Here you are, said Nettings to Hewet. They've
found a specimen of Goujon's handwriting. At last, if you'd
(15:43):
like to see it. I don't want it. I'm not
a graphologist, and the case is clear enough for me anyway,
Hewitt took the paper. This, he said, is a different
sort of handwriting from that on the paper. The ink
note about the avenger of the tortoise is in a crude, large, clumsy,
(16:05):
untaught style of writing. This is small, neat and well formed,
except that is a trifle shaky, probably because of the
hand injury. That's nothing contended, Nettings. Handwriting clues are worse
than useless. As a rule, it's so easy to disguise
(16:26):
and imitate writing. And besides, if Goujon is such a
good penman, as you seem to say, why he could
all the easier alter his style. Say now yourself, can
any fiddling question of handwriting? Get over this thing about
avenging the tortoise practically a written confession to say nothing
(16:47):
of the chopper and what he said to the housemaid
as he left, Well, said Hewett, perhaps not, but we'll
see meantime. Turning to the landlord's clerk, possibly you will
be good enough to tell me one or two things. First,
(17:07):
what was Goujon's character excellent as far as we knew.
We never had a complaint about him, except for little
matters of carelessness, leaving coal scuttles on the stairs for
people to fall over, losing shovels, and so on. He
was certainly a bit careless, but as far as we
(17:28):
could see, quite a decent little fellow. One would never
have thought him capable of committing murder for the sake
of a tortoise, though he was rather fond of the animal.
The tortoise is dead now, I understand. Yes, have you
a lift in this building only for coals and heavy parcels.
(17:50):
Gaujeon used to work it, sometimes, going up and down
in it himself with coals and so on. It goes
into the basement. And are the coals kept under this building? No?
This door for the whole row is under the next
two houses. The basements communicate. Do you know Ramo's other name,
(18:14):
saysar Ramo. He signed in our agreement. Did he ever
mention his relations? No, that is to say, he did
say something one day when he was very drunk, but
of course it was all rot. Someone told him not
to make such a row. He was such a beastly tenant,
(18:34):
and he said he was the best man in the place,
and his brother was Prime minister, and all sorts of
things mere drunken rant. I never heard of his saying
anything sensible about relations. We know nothing of his connections.
He came here on a banker's reference. Thanks. I think
that's all I want to ask you. Notice, Hewitt proceeded,
(18:59):
turning to the only ink in this place is scented
and violet, and the only paper is tinted and scented too,
with a monogram characteristic of a negro with money. The
paper that was pinned on Rameau's breast is in red
ink on common and rather grubby paper. Therefore it was
(19:22):
written somewhere else and brought here inference premeditation? Yes, yes,
But are you an inch nearer with all these speculations?
Can you get nearer than I am now without them? Well?
Perhaps not, Hewitt replied, I don't profess at this moment
(19:45):
to know the criminal. You do. I'll concede you that
point for the present. But you don't offer an opinion
as to who removed Ramo's body, which I think I
know who was it? Then come try and guess that
yourself it wasn't Goujon. I don't mind letting you know that.
(20:06):
But it was a person quite within your knowledge of
the case. You've mentioned the person's name more than once.
Nettings stared blankly. I don't understand you in the least,
he said, But of course you mean that this mysterious
person you speak of as having moved the body committed
(20:26):
the murder. No, I don't. Nobody could have been more
innocent of that. Well, Nettings concluded with resignation. I'm afraid
one of us is rather thick headed. What will you
do interview the person who took away the body? Hewitt
replied with a smile. But man alive? Why why bother
(20:51):
about the person? If it isn't the criminal? Never mind?
Never mind? Probably the person will be a most valuable witness.
Do you mean you think this person, whoever it is,
saw the crime? I think it very probable. Indeed, Well,
I won't ask you any more. I shall get hold
(21:13):
of Goujon. That's simple and direct enough for me. I
prefer to deal with the heart of the case, the
murder itself, when there's such clear evidence as I have.
I shall look a little into that too, perhaps, Hewitt said,
And if you like, I'll tell you the first thing
I shall do what's that, I shall have a good
(21:36):
look at a map of the West Indies, and I
advise you to do the same. Good morning. Nettings stared
down the corridor after Hewett and continued staring for nearly
two minutes after he had disappeared. Then he said to
the clerk who had remained, what was he talking about?
(21:59):
Don't know, replied the clerk. Couldn't make head nor tail
of it. I don't believe there is a head to it,
declared Nettings, nor a tale either. He's kidding us. Nettings
was better than his word, for within two hours of
his conversation with Hewitt, Goujon was captured and safe in
(22:19):
a cab bound for Bow Street. He had been stopped
at New Haven in the morning on his way to
Dieppe and was brought back to London. But now Nettings
met a check late that afternoon, he called on Hewitt
to explain matters. We've got Goujon, he said gloomily. But
(22:40):
there's a difficulty. He's got two friends who can swear
an alibi. Rameaux was seen alive at half past one
on Saturday, and the girl found him dead about three Now,
Goujon's two friends it seems, were with him from one
o'clock till four in the afternoon, with the exception of
(23:00):
five minutes when the girl saw him, and then he
left them to take a key or something to the housekeeper.
Before finally leaving. They were waiting on the landing below
when Goujeon spoke to the housemaid, heard him speaking, and
had seen him go all the way up to the
housekeeper's room and back as they looked up the wide
(23:23):
well of the staircase. They are men employed near the place,
and seem to have good characters, but perhaps we shall
find something unfavorable about them. They were drinking with Gujeon,
it seems by way of seeing him off well, Hewett said,
I scarcely think you need trouble to damage these men's characters.
(23:45):
They are probably telling the truth. Come now, be plain.
You've come here to get a hint as to whether
my theory of the case helps you, haven't you? Well
if you can give me a friendly hint, Although of
course I may be right after all. Still, I wish
you'd explain a bit as to what you meant by
(24:07):
looking at a map and all that mystery. Nice thing
for me to be taking a lesson in my own
business after all these years. But perhaps I deserve it.
See now, quoth Hewitt, you remember what map I told
you to look at the West Indies. Right well, here
(24:28):
you are. Hewitt reached an atlas from his bookshelf. The
biggest island of the lot on this map bar in Cuba,
is Haiti. You know as well as I do, that
the western part of that island is peopled by the
Black Republic of Haiti, and that the country is in
a degenerate state of almost unexampled savagery with a ridiculous
(24:53):
show of civilization. There are revolutions all the time. The
South American republics are peaceful and prosperous compared to Haiti.
The state of the country is simply awful. Read Sir
Spencer Saint John's book on it. President after president of
the vilest sort forces his way to power and commits
(25:15):
the most horrible and bloodthirsty excesses, murdering his opponents by
the hundred and seizing their property for himself and his satellites,
who are usually as bad, if not worse than the
president himself. Whole families, men, women and children are murdered
at the instance of these Ruffians, and as a consequence,
(25:37):
the most deadly feuds spring up, and the presidents and
their followers are always themselves in danger of reprisals from others.
Perhaps the very worst of these presidents in recent times
has been the notorious Domage, who was overthrown by an insurrection,
as they all are sooner or later, and compelled to
(26:00):
fly the country. Do mag and his nephews, one of
whom was chief Minister while in power, committed the cruelest bloodshed,
and many members of the opposite party sought refuge in
a small island lying just to the north of Haiti,
but were sought out there and almost exterminated. Now I
(26:22):
will show you that island on the map. What is
its name? Tortuga? It is Tortuga, however, is only the
old Spanish name. The Haitians speak French Creole French. Here
is a French atlas. Now see the name of that island, latourtu,
(26:45):
la tortu. It is the tortoise. Tortuga means the same
thing in Spanish, but that island is always spoken of
in Haiti as latourtu. Now do you see the drift
of that paper pinned to Rameau's breast, punished by an
avenger of or from the tortoise or la Tourtieu. Clear enough,
(27:11):
it would seem that the dead man had something to
do with the massacre there, and somebody from the island
is avenging it. The thing's most extraordinary. And now listen.
The name of Domag's nephew, who was chief minister, was
Septimus Rameau, and this was Caesa Rameau, his brother. Probably,
(27:37):
I see, well, this is a case. I think the
relationship probable. Now you understand why I was inclined to
doubt that Goujon was the man you wanted. Of course,
of course, and now I suppose I must try to
get a nigger. The chap who wrote that paper, I
wish he hadn't been such an ignorant nigger. If he'd
(28:00):
only have put the capitals to the words lattu, I
might have thought a little more about them, instead of
taking it for granted that they meant that wretched tortoise
in the basement of the house. Well, I've made a
fool of a start, but I'll be after that nigger now.
And I, as I said before, said hewet shall be
(28:22):
after the person that carried off Ramo's body. I have
had something else to do this afternoon, or I should
have begun already. You said that you thought he saw
the crime. How did you judge that? Hewitt smiled. I
think I'll keep that little secret to myself for the present,
(28:42):
he said, you shall know soon very well. Nettings replied
with resignation. I suppose I mustn't grumble if you don't
tell me everything. I feel too great a fool altogether
over this case to see any farther than you show
me and in space. Doctor Nettings left on his search,
(29:02):
while Martin Hewitt, as soon as he was alone, laughed
joyously and slapped his thigh. There was a cab rank
and shelter at the end of the street where mister
Styles's building stood, and early that evening a man approached
it and hailed to the cabman and the waterman. Anyone
(29:23):
would have known the newcomer at once for a cabman
taking a holiday. The brim of the hat, the bird's
eye neckerchief, the immense coat buttons, and more than all,
the rolling walk and the wrinkled trousers marked him out distinctly.
Watch here, he exclaimed affably, with the self possessed nod
(29:45):
only possible to cabbies and busman. I'm lookin for a bilker.
I'm told one of the blokes off this rank carried
him last Saturday, and I want to know where he went.
I ain't that a chance a gettin his? Yet took
a cab just as it got dark, untold, tallish chap
(30:05):
muffled up a lot in a long black overcoat. Any
of you've seen him? The cabbies looked at one another
and shook their heads. It chanced that none of them
had been on that particular rank at that time. But
the waterman said, hold on, I bet he's the bloke
what Old Bill Stammers took Yorky was fussed on the rank.
(30:28):
But the bloke wouldn't have a hansom, wanted a four wheeler,
So Old Bill took him. Biggest chap and a long
black coat, collar up and muffled, thick, soft, wide awake
at pulled over his eyes, and he was in a
hurry too, jumped in sharp as a weasel. Didn't see
his face, did ye, Nope, not an inch of it.
(30:51):
Too much muffled. Couldn't tell if he'd added face. Was
his arm in a sling. I it looked so added
stuff through the breast of his coat, like as though
there might be a sling inside. That's him. Any of
ye tell me where I might run across Old Bill Stammers,
They'll tell me where my precious milker went to. As
(31:14):
to this there was plenty of information, and in five
minutes Martin Hewitt, who had become an unoccupied cabman for
the occasion, was on his way to find Old Bill Stammers.
That respectable old man gave him full particulars as to
the place in the East End where he had driven
his muffled fare on Saturday, and Hewitt then began an
(31:38):
eighteen or twenty hours search beyond Whitechapel. At about three
on Tuesday afternoon, as Nettings was in the act of
leaving Bow Street Police station, Hewitt drove up in a
four wheeler. Some prisoner appeared to be crouching low in
the vehicle, but leaving him to take care of himself,
(31:59):
Hewitt hurried in to the station and shook Nettings by
the hand. Well, he said, have you got the murderer
at Ramo? Yet? No Nettings growled unless well Goujon's under
remand still and after all I've been thinking that he
may know something. Oooh nonsense, Hewett answered, you'd better let
(32:22):
him go. Now. I have got somebody, Hewitt laughed and
slapped the inspector's shoulder. I've got the man who carried
Ramo's body away, the deuce you have where? Bring him in.
We must have him, all right, don't be in a hurry.
He won't bolt, and Hewitt stepped out to the cab
(32:45):
and produced his prisoner, who, pulling his hat farther over
his eyes, hurried furtively into the station. One hand was
stowed in the breast of his long coat, and below
the wide brim of his hat, a small piece of
white man could be seen, and as he lifted his face,
it was seen to be that of a Negro. Inspector
(33:08):
Nettings Pwett said, ceremoniously, allow me to introduce mister Cesar Rameau.
Nettings gasped what he at length ejaculated, what you your Ramo?
The Negro looked round nervously and shrank farther from the door. Yes,
(33:30):
he said, but please not so loud, Please not so loud.
They may be near, and I am afraid you will certify,
will you not? Asked Hewett with malicious glee, not only
that you were not murdered last Saturday by Victor Goujon,
but that, in fact you were not murdered at all,
(33:51):
also that you carried your own body away in the
usual fashion on your own legs. Yes, yes, responded Rameaux,
looking haggardly about. But is not zis rum publique. I
should not be seen nonsense, replied Hewett, rather testily. You
(34:11):
exaggerate your danger and your own importance, and your enemy's
abilities as well. You're safe enough, I suppose, then, Nettings
remarked slowly, like a man on whose mind something vast
was beginning to dawn. I suppose, why hang it. You
(34:32):
must have just got up while that fool of a
girl was screaming and fainting upstairs, and walked out. They say,
there is nothing so hard as a nigger's skull, and
yours certainly made a fool of me. But then somebody
must have chopped you over the head. Who was it?
My enemies, my great enemies, enemies, But eetique, I am
(34:56):
a great man, this with a faint revival ofanity amid
his fear, a great man. In my country they have
great secret club sieties to kill me, me and my friends,
and one enemy coming in my rooms does zis one
two he indicated wrist and head VI a choppa. Rameau
(35:21):
made the case plain to Netting, so far as the
actual circumstances of the assault on himself were concerned. A
negro whom he had noticed near the place more than
once during the previous day or two, had attacked him
suddenly in his rooms, healing him two savage blows with
a chopper. The first he had caught on his wrist,
(35:42):
which was seriously damaged as well as excruciatingly painful, but
the second had taken effect on his head. His assailant
had evidently gone away then, leaving him for dead. But
as a matter of fact, he was only stunned by
the shock, and had, thanks to the ademantine thickness of
(36:04):
the negro's skull and the ill direction of the chopper,
only a very bad scalp wound, the bone being no
more than grazed. He had lain insensible for some time,
and must have come to his senses soon after the
housemaid had left the room. Terrified at the knowledge that
his enemies had found him out, his only thought was
(36:26):
to get away and hide himself. He hastily washed and
tied up his head, enveloped himself in the biggest coat
he could find, and let himself down into the basement
by the coal lift for fear of observation. He waited
in the basement of one of the adjoining buildings till dark,
and then got away in a cab with the idea
(36:47):
of hiding himself in the East end. He had had
very little money with him on his flight, and it
was by reason of this circumstance that Hewet, when he
found him, had prevailed on him to leave his hiding place,
since it would be impossible for him to touch any
of the large sums of money in the keeping of
his bank so long as he was supposed to be dead.
(37:11):
With much difficulty and the promise of ample police protection,
he was at last convinced that it would be safe
to declare himself and get his property, and then run
away and hide wherever he pleased. Nettings and Hewett strolled
off together for a few minutes and chatted, leaving the
wretched Rameau to cower in a corner among several policemen.
(37:36):
Well mister Hewitt, Nettings said, this case has certainly been
a shocking beating for me. I must have been as
blind as a bat when I started on it. And
yet I don't see that you had a deal to
go on even now. What struck you first? Well, in
the beginning, it seemed rather odd to me that the
(37:58):
body should have been taken away, as I had been
told it was, after the written paper had been pinned
on it. Why should the murderer pin a label on
the body of his victim if he meant carrying that
body away? Who would read the label and learn of
the nature of the revenge gratified? Plainly that indicated that
(38:20):
the person who had carried away the body was not
the person who had committed the murder. But as soon
as I began to examine the place, I saw the
probability that there was no murder after all. There were
any number of indications of this fact, and I can't
understand you are not observing them. First. Although there was
(38:42):
a good deal of blood on the floor just below
where the housemaid had seen Rameau lying, there was none
between that place and the door. Now, if the body
had been dragged or even carried to the door, blood
must have been smeared about the floor, or at least
there would have been drops, but there were none, and
this seemed to hint that the corpse might have come
(39:04):
to itself, sat up on the sofa, stanched the wound,
and walked out. I reflected at once that Rameau was
a full blooded Negro, and that a negro's head is
very nearly invulnerable to anything short of bullets. Then if
the body had been dragged out as such, a heavy
(39:25):
body must have been almost of necessity. The carpet and
rugs would show signs of the fact, but there were
no such signs. But beyond these there was the fact
that no long black overcoat was left with the other clothes.
Although the housekeeper distinctly remembered Rameau's possession of such a garment,
(39:48):
I judged he would use some such thing to assist
his disguise, which was why I asked her. Why he
would want to disguise was plain, as you shall see. Presently,
there were no towels left in the bathroom, inference used
for bandages. Everything seemed to show that the only person
(40:09):
responsible for Rameau's removal was Rameau himself. Why then, had
he gone away secretly and hurriedly without making complaint, and
why had he stayed away? What reason would he have
for doing this if it had been Gaujon that had
attacked him, None, Gaujeon was going to France. Clearly rameau
(40:33):
was afraid of another attack from some implacable enemy whom
he was anxious to avoid, one against whom he feared
legal complaint or defense would be useless. This brought me
at once to the paper found on the floor. If
this were the work of Gaujon, and an open reference
to his tortoise, why should he be at such pains
(40:55):
to disguise his handwriting. He would have been already pointing
himself out by the mere mention of the tortoise. And
if he could not avoid a shake in his natural,
small handwriting, how could he have avoided it in a large, clumsy,
slowly drawn, assumed hand. No, the paper was not Goujon's.
(41:20):
As to the writing on the paper, Nettings interposed. I've
told you how I made that mistake. I took the
readiest explanation of the words, since they seemed so pat
and I wouldn't let anything else out weigh that. As
to the other things, the evidences of Ramos having gone
off by himself. Well, I don't usually miss such obvious things,
(41:44):
but I never thought of the possibility of the victim
going away on the quiet and not coming back as
though he'd done something wrong. Comes of starting with a
set of fixed notions, Well, answered Hwing, But I fancy
you must have been rather out of form. As they say,
everybody has his stupid days, and you can't keep up
(42:07):
to concert pitch forever. To return to the case, the
evidence of the chopper was very untrustworthy, especially when I
heard of Gujan's careless habits, losing shovels and leaving coal
scuttles on stairs. Nothing more likely than for the chopper
to be left lying about, and a criminal who had
(42:30):
calculated his chances would know the advantage to himself of
using a weapon that belonged to the place and leaving
it behind to divert suspicion. It is quite possible, by
the way, that the man who attacked Rameau got away
down the coal lift and out by an adjoining basement,
just as Rameau himself did. This, however, is mere conjecture.
(42:54):
The would be murderer had plainly prepared for the crime.
Witness the pres preparation of the paper declaring his revenge
an indication of his pride at having run his enemy
to earth at such a distant place as this, although
I expect he was only in England by chance, for
Haitians are not a persistently energetic race in regard to
(43:19):
the use of small instead of capital letters in the
words Latteurtiu on the paper, I observed in the beginning
that the first letter of the whole sentence, the p
in punis, was a small one. Clearly the writer was
an illiterate man, and it was at once plain that
he may have made the same mistake with ensuing words.
(43:42):
On the whole it was plain that everybody had begun
with a too ready disposition to assume that Boujon was guilty.
Everybody insisted too that the body had been carried away,
which was true, of course, although not in the sense intended.
So I didn't trouble to contradict, or to say more
than that I guessed who had carried the body off,
(44:06):
And to tell you the truth, I was a little
piqued at mister Styles's manner, and indisposed interested in the case,
as I was to give away my theories too freely.
The rest of the job was not very difficult, I
found out the cabman who had taken Rameau away. You
(44:26):
can always get readier help from cabbies if you go
as one of themselves, especially if you are after a bilker,
and from him got a sufficiently near east end education
to find Ramo. After inquiries, I ventured by the way
on a rather long shot. I described my man to
the cabman as having an injured arm or wrist, and
(44:50):
it turned out a correct guess. You see, a man
making an attack with a chopper is pretty certain to
make more than a single blow, And as there appeared
to have been only a single wound on the head,
it seemed probable that another had fallen somewhere else, almost
certainly on the arm, as it would be raised to
(45:11):
defend the head. At Limehouse I found he had had
his head and wrist attended to at a local medico's.
And a big nigger in a fright with a long
black coat, a broken head and a lame hand is
not so difficult to find in a small area. How
(45:32):
I persuaded him up here you know already I think
I frightened him a little too by explaining how easily
I had tracked him and giving him a hint that
others might do the same. He is in a great funk.
He seemed to have quite lost faith in England as
a safe asylum. The police failed to catch Ramo's assailant,
(45:58):
chiefly because Ramo would not be got to give a
proper description of him, nor to do anything except get
out of the country in a hurry. In truth, he
was glad to be quit of the matter, with nothing
worse than his broken head. Little Gaujeon made a wild
storm about his arrest, and before he did go to France,
(46:21):
managed to extract twenty pounds from Rameaux by way of
compensation in spite of the absence of any strictly legal
claim against his old tormentor, so that on the whole
Gaujeon was about the only person who derived any particular
profit from the Tortoise mystery. End of chapter seven end
(46:49):
of Martin Hewitt Investigator by Arthur Morrison. Recording by Kirsten Webber.
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