June 9, 2025 • 24 mins
Imagine pulling over 26 miles outside Bordeaux and having your life transform forever. This is exactly what happens to Seymour Merriman. His ordinary halt spirals him into a whirlwind of mystery, illicit smuggling, chilling murder, and unexpected romance. With the clock ticking, two amateur sleuths scramble to solve the baffling enigma of alternating number plates and the dangerous dealings of the pit prop syndicate. If they fail, the notorious Inspector Willis from Scotland Yard will take over. Dive into this riveting narrative and see where the journey takes you.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter sixteen of The Pit prop Syndicate by Freeman Wills Crofts.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter sixteen,
The Secret of the Syndicate. A knight's rest made Willis
once more his own man, and next morning he found
that his choking rage had evaporated, and that he was
able to think calmly and collectedly over the failure of
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his plans. As he reconsidered in detail the nature of
the watch he had kept, he felt more than ever
certain that his cordons had not been broken. Through no one,
he felt satisfied, could have passed unobserved between the depot
and the distillery, And in spite of this, the stuff
had been delivered. Archer and Benson were not bluffing to
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put him off the scent. They had no idea, they
were overheard, and therefore had no reason to say anything
except the truth. How then, was the communication being made? Surely?
He thought, if these people could devise a scheme, he
should be able to guess it. He was not willing
to admit his brain inferior to any man's. He lit
his pipe and drew at it slowly as he turned
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the question over in his mind, and then a possible
solution occurred to him. What about a subterranean connection? Had
these been driven a tunnel? Here, undoubtedly was a possibility
to drive three hundred yards of a heading large enough
for a stooping man to pass through. Would be a
simple matter to men who had shown the skill of
these conspirators. The soil was light and sandy, and they
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could use without suspicion as much timber as they required
to shore up their work. It was true they would
have to pass under the railway, but that again was
a matter of timbering. Their greatest difficulty, he imagined, would
be in the disposal of the surplus earth. He began
to figure out what it would mean. The passageway could
hardly be less than four feet by five to allow
for lining, and this would amount to about two yards
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of material to the yard run, or say six hundred
or seven hundred cubic yards altogether. Could this have been
absorbed in the filling of the wharf, He thought so.
The wharf was a large strukehure thirty yards by thirty
at least and eight or nine feet high. More than
two thousand cubic yards of filling would have been required
for it. The disposal of the earth therefore would have
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presented no difficulty. All that came out of the tunnel
could have gone into the wharf three times over a tunnel,
seemingly being a practical proposition, He turned his attention to
a second problem. How could he find out whether or
not it had been made? Obviously only from examination at
one or other end. If it existed, it must connect
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with cellars at the depot in the distillery, and of
these there could be no question of which he ought
to search. The depot was not only smaller and more compact,
but it was deserted at intervals. If he could not
succeed at the Syndicate's enclosure, he would have no chance
at the larger building. It was true he had already
searched it without result, but he was not then, specially
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looking for a seller, and with a more definite objective
he might have better luck. He decided that if Benson
went up to Hall that night he would have another try.
He took an afternoon train to Ferraby, and walking back
towards the depot, took cover in the same place that
he had previously used. There, sheltered by a hedge he
watched for the manager's appearance. The weather had from the
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inspector's point of view, changed for the worse. The sunny
days had gone and the sky was overladen with clouds,
a cold wind blueing gustily from the southeast, bringing a
damp fog which threatened every minute to turn to rain,
and flecking the lead colored waters of the estuary with
spots of white. Willis shivered and drew up his collar
higher round his ears as he crouched behind the wet bushes.
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Confound it. He thought, when I get into that shed,
I shall be dripping water all over the floor. But
he remained at his post, and in due course he
was rewarded by seeing Benson appear at the door in
the fence, and, after locking it behind him, start off
down the railway toward Ferraby. As before, Willis waited until
the manager had got clear away, Then, slipping across the line,
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he produced his bent wire, opened to the door, and
five minutes later stood once more in the office. From
the nature of the case, it seemed clear that the
entrance to the cellar, if one existed, would be hidden.
It was therefore for secret doors or moving panels that
he must look. He began by ascertaining the thickness of
all the walls, noting the size of the room, so
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as to calculate those he could not measure directly. He
soon found that no wall was more than six inches thick,
and none could therefore contain a concealed opening. This narrow desearch,
the exit from the building could only be through a
trap door in the floor. Accordingly, he set to work
in the office, crawling torch in hand along the boards,
scrutinizing the joints between them for any that were not
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closed with the dust, feeling for any that might be loose,
but all to no purpose. The boards ran in one
length across the floor and were obviously firmly nailed down
on fixed joints. He went to the bedroom, rolling aside
the mats which covered the floor, and moving the furniture
back and forwards, But here he had no better result.
The remainder of the shed was floored with concrete, and
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a less meticulous examination was sufficient to sh show that
the surface was unbroken. Nor was there anything either on
the wharf itself or in the enclosure behind the shed,
which could form a cover to a flight of steps.
Sorely disappointed, Willis return once more to the office, and,
sitting down, went over once again in his mind what
he had done. Trying to think if there was a
point on the whole area of the depot which he
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had overlooked, he could recall none except the space beneath
a large wardrobe in the next room, which, owing to
its obvious weight, he had not moved. I suppose I
had better make sure, he said to himself, though he
did not believe so massive a piece of furniture could
have been pulled backwards and forwards without leaving scratches on
the floor. He returned to the bedroom. The wardrobe was
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divided into two portions, a single deep drawer along the bottom,
and above it a kind of large cupboard with a
central door. He seized its end. It was certainly very heavy.
In fact, he found himself unable to move it. He
picked up his torch and examined the wooden base, and
then his interest grew, for he found it was strongly
stitch nailed to the floor, considerably mystify. He tried to
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open the door. It was locked, and though with his
wire he eventually shot back the bolt. The trouble he
had proved that the lock was one of first quality. Indeed,
it was not a cupboard lock screwed to the inside
of the door, as might have been expected, but a
small sized mortise lock hidden in the thickness of the wood,
and the keyhole came through to the inside, just the
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same arrangement as is usual in internal house doors. The
inside of the wardrobe revealed nothing of interest. Two coats
and waistcoats, a sweater, and some other clothes were hanging
from hooks at the back. Otherwise the space was empty. Why,
he wondered as he stood staring in should it be
necessary to lock up clothes like these? His eyes turned
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to the drawer below, and he seized the handles and
gave a sharp pull. The drawer was evidently locked. Once again,
he produced his wire, but for the first time it
failed him. He flashed a beam from his lamp into
the hole, and then he saw the reason. The hole
was a dummy. It entered the wood but did not
go through it. It was not connected to a lock.
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He passed a light round the edges of the drawer.
If there was no lock to fasten it, why had
he been unable to open it? He took out his
pen knife and tried to push the blade into the
surrounding space. It would not penetrate, and he saw that
there was no space, but merely a cut half an
inch deep in the wood. There was no drawer. What
seemed a drawer was merely a blind panel. Inspector Willis
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grew more and more interested. He could not see why
all that space should be wasted, as it was clear
from the way in which the wardrobe was finished that
economy and construction had not been the motive. Once again,
he opened the door of the upper portion, and putting
his head inside, passed the beam of the lamp over
the floor. This time he gave a little snort of triumph.
The floor did not fit tight to the sides. All
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round was a space of some eighth of an inch
the trap door. At last, he muttered, as he began
to feel about for some hidden spring. At last, pressing
down on one end of the floor, he found that
it sank, and the other end rose in the air,
revealing a square of inky blackness, out of which poured
a stream of cold, damp air, and through which he
could hear with the echoing sound peculiar to volts the
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splashing and churning of the sea. His torch revealed a
flight of steps leading down into the darkness. Having examined
the pivoted floor to make sure there was no secret
catch which would fasten and imprison him below, he stepped
on to the ladder and began to descend. Then the
significance of the mortise lock in the wardrobe door occurred
to him, and he stopped, drew the door to behind him,
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and with his wire locked it, descending farther, he allowed
the floor to drop gently into place above his head,
thus leaving no trace of his passage. He had by
this time reached the ground, and he stood, flashing his
torch about on his surroundings. He was in the cellar,
so low in the roof that except immediately beneath the stairs,
he could not stand upright. It was square, some twelve
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feet either way, and from it issued two passages, one
apparently running down under the wharf, the other at right
angles and some two feet lower and level, leading as
if towards the distillery. Down the center of this ladder
ran a tiny tramway of about a foot gage on
which stood three kegs on four wheeled frames. In the
upper side of each keg was fixed a ton dish
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to the underside a stopcock. Two insulated wires came down
through the ceiling below the cupboard in which the telephone
was installed, and ran down the tunnel towards the distillery.
The walls and ceilings of both cellar and passages were
supported by pit props, discolored by the damp and marked
by stains of earthy water which had oozed from the
spaces between. They glistened with moisture, but the air, though
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cold and damp, was fresh that in the noise of
the waves which reverberated along the passage under the wharf,
seemed to show that there was an open connection to
the river. The cellar was empty except for a large
wooden tun or cask which reached almost to the ceiling,
and a gun. Metal hand pump pipes led from the ladder,
one to the tun the other along the passage under
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the wharf. On the side of the tun and can
connected to it at top and bottom was a vertical
glass tube protected by a wooden casing, evidently a gauge.
As beside it was a scale headed gallons and reading
from zero at the bottom to two thousand at the top,
a dark colored liquid filled the tube up to the
figure one thousand, two hundred fifty. There was a wooden
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spigot tap in the side of the tun at floor level,
and the tram line ran beneath this, so that the
wheeled kegs could be pushed below it and filled. The
inspector gazed with an expression of almost awe on his face. Lord,
he muttered, is it brandy? After all? He stooped and
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smelled the wooden tap, and the last doubt was removed
from his mind. He gave vent to a comprehensive oath.
Right enough, it was hard luck here. He had been
hoping to bring off a forged note coup which would
have made his name, and the affair was a job
for the customs department. After all. Of course, a pretty
substantial reward would be due to him for his discovery,
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And there was his murder case, all quite satisfactory. But
forged notes were more in his line, and he felt
cheated out of his do But now he was so
far he might as well learn all he could. The
more complete case he gave in, the larger the reward. Moreover,
his own curiosity was keenly aroused, the cellar, being empty
save for the tun the pump, and the small tramway
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and tracks. He turned, and, flashing his light before him,
walked slowly along the passage, down which ran the pipe
he was, he felt sure passing under the wharf and
heading towards the river. Some sixty feet past the pump,
the floor of the passage came to an abrupt end,
falling vertically as by an enormous step, to the churning
waters of the river some six feet below. At first,
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in the semi darkness, Whilis thought he had reached the
front of the wharf, but he soon saw he was
still in the cellar. The roof ran on at the
same level for some twenty feet farther, and the side
walls here about five feet apart, went straight down from
it into the water. Across the end was a wall
sloping outwards at the bottom and made of horizontal pit
props separated by spaces of two or three inches. Willis
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immediately realized that these props must be those placed behind
the inner or raking rows of piles which supported the
front of the wharf. Along one side wall for its
whole length was nailed a series of horizontal lathes twelve
inches apart. What their purpose was he did not know,
but he saw that they made a ladder twenty feet
wide by which a man could work its way from
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the passage to the end wall and reach the water
at any height of the tide. Above this ladder was
an object which it first puzzled the inspector. Then, as
he realized its object, it became highly illuminating. When a
couple of brackets secured to the wall lay a pipe
of thinness steel, covered with thick black bays, and some
sixteen feet long by an inch in diameter. Through it
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ran the light copper pipe, which was connected at its
other end to the pump at the end of the passage.
This pipe had several joints like those of a gas bracket,
and was full it on itself concertina wise. The inspector
stepped on to the ladder and worked his way across
it to the other end of the steel pipe. Close
by the end wall. The copper pipe protruded and ended
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in a filling like the half of a union. As
Willis gazed, he suddenly grasped its significance. The side of
the girondine, he thought would lie not more than ten
feet from where he was standing. If at night, someone
from within the cellar were to push the end of
the steel tube out through one of the spaces between
the horizontal timbers of the end wall, it could be
inserted into a porthole, supposing one were just opposite. The
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concertina joints would make it flexible and allow it to extend,
and the baze covering would prevent its being heard should
it inadvertently strike the side of the ship. The union
on the copper tube could then be fixed to some
receptacle on board the brandy being pumped from the ship
to the tun and no outsider could possibly be any
the wiser. Given a dark night and careful operators, the
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whole thing would be carried out invisibly and in absolute silence.
Now Willis saw the object of the peculiar construction of
the front of the wharf. It was necessary to have
two lines of piles, so that the deck between might
overshadow and screen from view the openings between the horizontal
beams at the front of the cellar. He stood marveling
at the ingenuity of the plan. No wonder Hilliard and
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Merriman had been baffled, but if he were to finish
his investigations, he must no longer delay. He worked back
across the side of the cellar, regained the passage, and
returned to the pump room. Then turning into the other passage,
he began to walk as quickly as possible along it.
The tunnel was barely four feet high by three feet wide,
and he found progress very tiring. After a slight curve
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at the mouth, it ran straight and almost dead level.
Its construction was the same as that of the cellar,
longitudinal timber lining supported behind verticals and lintels, spaced about
six feet apart. When he had gone about two hundred yards,
it curved sharply to the left, ran heavily timbered for
some thirty yards in the new direction, and then swung
round to the right again. I suppose the railway crosses here,
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willis thought, as he passed painfully round to the bends.
The wet stood and drops on his forehead. When he
reached the end, and he breathed a sigh of relief
as he realized he could once more stand upright and
stretch his cramped back. He found himself in another cellar,
this time about six feet by twelve. The tramway ran
along it, stopping at the end wall. The place was
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otherwise empty save for a wooden grating or tun dish
with a hinged lid, which was fixed between the rails
near the entrance. The telephone wires which had followed the
tunnel all the way here, vanished into the roof. Willis
concluded he must be standing beneath some part of the distillery,
and a very little thought was required to make clear
to him the raison detre of what he saw. He
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pictured the kegs being pushed under the tap of the
large tun in the pump room, and filled with brandy
pumped in from the girondine. In imagination, he saw Benson
pushing his loaded trucks through the tunnel, much easier thing
to do than to walk without something to step over,
stopping them one by one over the grating and emptying
the contents. Therein no doubt that grating was connected to
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some vat or tun buried still deeper beneath the distillery,
in which the brandy mingled with the other brandy brought
here by more legitimate means, and which was sold without
documentary evidence of its surprising increase in bulk. It was probable,
thought Willis, that some secret door must connect the chamber
in which he stood with the distillery, But a careful
search revealed no trace of any opening, and he was
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forced to the conclusion that none existed. Accordingly, he turned
and began to retrace his steps through the tunnel. The
walk back seemed even longer and more irksome than his
first transit, and he stopped here and there and knelt
down in order to straighten his aching back. As he advanced,
the booming sound of the waves, which had died down
to a faint murmur at the distillery, grew louder and louder.
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At last he reached the pump cellar and was just
about to step out of the tunnel when his eyes
caught the flicker of a light at the top of
the step ladder. Someone was coming down. Willis instantly snapped
off his own light, and for the fraction of a
second he stood transfixed, while his heart thumped and his
hand slid round to his revolver pocket. Breathlessly, he watched
a pair of legs step on to the ladder and
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begin to descend the steps. Like a flash, he realized
what he must do. If this was Benson coming to
take up stuff to remain in the tunnel meant a
certain discovery. But if he could only reach the passage
under the wharf, he might be safe. There was nothing
to bring Benson into it, but to cross the cellar
he must pass within two feet of the ladder, and
the man was half way down. For a moment it
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looked quite hopeless. Then unexpectedly he got his chance. The
man stopped to lock the wardrobe door. When he had finished,
Willis was already across the cellar and hurrying down the
other passage. Fortunately, the noise of the waves drowned all
other sounds. By the time the unknown had reached the
bottom of the ladder, Willis had stepped on to the
cross lathes and was descending by them. In a moment,
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he was below the passage level. He intended, should the
other approach, to hide beneath the water, in the hopes
that in the darkness his head would not be seen.
But the light remained in the cellar, and Willis raised
himself and cautiously peeped down the passage. Then he began
to congratulate himself on what he had just been considering
his misfortune for watching there in the darkness, he saw
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Benson carry out the very operations he had imagined were performed.
The manager wheeled the kegs one by one beneath the
great barrel, filled them from the tap, and then, setting
his lap on the last of the three, pushed them
before him down the tunnel towards the distillery. Inspector Willis
waited until he judged the other would be out of sight,
then left his hiding place and cautiously returned to the
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pump room. The gauge now showed one thousand, one hundred
twenty five gallons, and he noted that one hundred twenty
five gallons was put up per trip. He rapidly ascended
the steps, passed out through the wardrobe, and regained the bedroom.
A few minutes later he was once more out on
the railway. He had glanced at his watch in the
building and found that it was but little after ten.
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Benson must therefore have returned by an earlier train than usual. Again,
the inspector congratulated himself that events had turned out as
they had, for though he would have had no fear
of his personal safety had he been seen premature discovery
might have allowed the other members of the gang to
escape the last train for Hull. Having left, he started
to walk the six miles to the city. The wind
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had still further changed for the worse, and now half
a gale of wind whirled round him in a pandemonium
of sound, and blew blinding squalls of rain into his eyes.
In a few moments, he was soaked to the skin,
and the buffeting of the wind made his progress slow,
But he struggled on, too well pleased by the success
of his evening's work to mind the discomfort, and as
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he considered the affair on the following morning, he felt
even more satisfied. He had indeed done well. Not only
had he completed what he set out to do to
discover the murderer of Cockburn, but he had accomplished vastly more.
He had brought to light one of the greatest smuggling
conspiracies of modern times. It was true he had not
followed up and completed the case against the syndicate, but
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that was not his business. Smuggling was not dealt with
by Scotland yard. It was a matter for the Customs Department.
But if only it had been forged notes. He heaved
a sigh as he thought of the kudos which might
have been his. But when he had gone so far,
he thought he might as well make certain that the
brandy was discharged as he imagined. He calculated that the
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Girondine would reach Faerby on the following day, and he
determined to see the operation carried out. He followed the
plan of Hilliard and Merriment to the extent of hiring
a boat and hole, and skulling gently down towards the
wharf as dusk fell. He had kept a watch on
the river all day without seeing the motor's ship go up,
but now she passed him a couple of miles above
the city. He turned inshore when he saw her coming,
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lest Captain Beamish's binoculars might reveal to him a familiar countenance.
He pulled easily, timing himself to arrive at the wharf
as soon as possible. After dark. The evening was dry,
but the southeasterly wind still blew cold and raw, though
not nearly so strongly as on the night of his walk.
There were a couple of lights on the Girondin, and
he steered by these till the dark mass of her counter,
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looming up out of the night, cut them off. Slipping
round her stern, as Hillyard had done in the River Lesk,
he unshipped his oars and guided the boat by his
hand into the V shaped space between the rows of
piles fronting the wharf. As he floated gently forward, he
felt between the horizontal props which held back the filling,
until he came to a vacant space. Then, knowing he
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was opposite the cellar, he slid the boat back a
few feet, tied her up, and settled down to wait.
Though sheltered from the wind by the hall that was
cold and damp under the wharf, the waves were lapping
among the timbers, and the boat moved uneasily. At the
end of her short painter, the darkness was absolute, an
inky blackness, unrelieved by any point of light. Willis realized
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that waiting would soon become irksome, but it was not
so very long before the work began. He had been there,
he estimated a couple of hours, when he saw, not
ten feet away, a dim circle of light suddenly appeared
on the girondine's side. Someone had turned on a faint light,
and a cabin whose open porthole was immediately opposite the cellar. Presently, Willis,
watching breathlessly, saw what he believed was the steel pipe
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impinge on and enter the illuminated ring. It remained projecting
into the porthole for some forty minutes, and was as
silently withdrawn. The porthole was closed, a curtain drawn across it,
and the light turned up within. The brandy had been discharged.
The thing had been done inaudibly and invisibly to anyone
on either wharf. Worship Marveling once more at the excellence
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and secrecy of the plan, Willis gently pushed his boat
out from among the piles and rowed back down the
river to Hull. There he tied the boat up, and,
returning to his hotel, was soon fast asleep. In spite
of his delight at the discovery, he could not but
realize that much still remained to be done. Though he
had learned how the syndicate was making its money, he
had not obtained any evidence of the complicity of its
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members in the murder of Cockburn, who, in addition to Archer,
could be involved. There were, of course, Beamish, Bullah Benson,
and n Ring. There was also a man more whose
place in the scheme of things had not yet been ascertained.
He Willis realized must be found and identified. But were
these all He doubted it. It seemed to him that
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the smuggling system required more helpers than these. He now
understood how the brandy was got from the ship to
the distillery, and he presumed it was loaded at the
clearing in the same manner, being brought there in some
unknown way by the motor lorries. But there were two
parts of the plan of which nothing was yet known.
First where was the brandy obtained from originally? And secondly
how was it distributed from the distillery. It seemed to
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Willis that each of these operations would require additional accomplices,
and if so, these persons might also have been implicated
in Coburn's death. He thought the thing over for three
solid hours before coming to a decision. At the end
of that time, he determined to return to London, and,
if his chief approved, lay the whole facts before the
customs department of both England and France, asking them to
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investigate the matter in their respective countries. In the meantime,
he would concentrate on the question of complicity in them.
He left Hall by an afternoon train, and that night
was in London. End of Chapter sixteen.
Chapter sixteen of The Pit prop Syndicate by Freeman Wills Crofts.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter sixteen,
The Secret of the Syndicate. A knight's rest made Willis
once more his own man, and next morning he found
that his choking rage had evaporated, and that he was
able to think calmly and collectedly over the failure of
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his plans. As he reconsidered in detail the nature of
the watch he had kept, he felt more than ever
certain that his cordons had not been broken. Through no one,
he felt satisfied, could have passed unobserved between the depot
and the distillery, And in spite of this, the stuff
had been delivered. Archer and Benson were not bluffing to
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put him off the scent. They had no idea, they
were overheard, and therefore had no reason to say anything
except the truth. How then, was the communication being made? Surely?
He thought, if these people could devise a scheme, he
should be able to guess it. He was not willing
to admit his brain inferior to any man's. He lit
his pipe and drew at it slowly as he turned
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the question over in his mind, and then a possible
solution occurred to him. What about a subterranean connection? Had
these been driven a tunnel? Here, undoubtedly was a possibility
to drive three hundred yards of a heading large enough
for a stooping man to pass through. Would be a
simple matter to men who had shown the skill of
these conspirators. The soil was light and sandy, and they
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could use without suspicion as much timber as they required
to shore up their work. It was true they would
have to pass under the railway, but that again was
a matter of timbering. Their greatest difficulty, he imagined, would
be in the disposal of the surplus earth. He began
to figure out what it would mean. The passageway could
hardly be less than four feet by five to allow
for lining, and this would amount to about two yards
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of material to the yard run, or say six hundred
or seven hundred cubic yards altogether. Could this have been
absorbed in the filling of the wharf, He thought so.
The wharf was a large strukehure thirty yards by thirty
at least and eight or nine feet high. More than
two thousand cubic yards of filling would have been required
for it. The disposal of the earth therefore would have
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presented no difficulty. All that came out of the tunnel
could have gone into the wharf three times over a tunnel,
seemingly being a practical proposition, He turned his attention to
a second problem. How could he find out whether or
not it had been made? Obviously only from examination at
one or other end. If it existed, it must connect
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with cellars at the depot in the distillery, and of
these there could be no question of which he ought
to search. The depot was not only smaller and more compact,
but it was deserted at intervals. If he could not
succeed at the Syndicate's enclosure, he would have no chance
at the larger building. It was true he had already
searched it without result, but he was not then, specially
(02:50):
looking for a seller, and with a more definite objective
he might have better luck. He decided that if Benson
went up to Hall that night he would have another try.
He took an afternoon train to Ferraby, and walking back
towards the depot, took cover in the same place that
he had previously used. There, sheltered by a hedge he
watched for the manager's appearance. The weather had from the
(03:11):
inspector's point of view, changed for the worse. The sunny
days had gone and the sky was overladen with clouds,
a cold wind blueing gustily from the southeast, bringing a
damp fog which threatened every minute to turn to rain,
and flecking the lead colored waters of the estuary with
spots of white. Willis shivered and drew up his collar
higher round his ears as he crouched behind the wet bushes.
(03:33):
Confound it. He thought, when I get into that shed,
I shall be dripping water all over the floor. But
he remained at his post, and in due course he
was rewarded by seeing Benson appear at the door in
the fence, and, after locking it behind him, start off
down the railway toward Ferraby. As before, Willis waited until
the manager had got clear away, Then, slipping across the line,
(03:55):
he produced his bent wire, opened to the door, and
five minutes later stood once more in the office. From
the nature of the case, it seemed clear that the
entrance to the cellar, if one existed, would be hidden.
It was therefore for secret doors or moving panels that
he must look. He began by ascertaining the thickness of
all the walls, noting the size of the room, so
(04:16):
as to calculate those he could not measure directly. He
soon found that no wall was more than six inches thick,
and none could therefore contain a concealed opening. This narrow desearch,
the exit from the building could only be through a
trap door in the floor. Accordingly, he set to work
in the office, crawling torch in hand along the boards,
scrutinizing the joints between them for any that were not
(04:36):
closed with the dust, feeling for any that might be loose,
but all to no purpose. The boards ran in one
length across the floor and were obviously firmly nailed down
on fixed joints. He went to the bedroom, rolling aside
the mats which covered the floor, and moving the furniture
back and forwards, But here he had no better result.
The remainder of the shed was floored with concrete, and
(04:57):
a less meticulous examination was sufficient to sh show that
the surface was unbroken. Nor was there anything either on
the wharf itself or in the enclosure behind the shed,
which could form a cover to a flight of steps.
Sorely disappointed, Willis return once more to the office, and,
sitting down, went over once again in his mind what
he had done. Trying to think if there was a
point on the whole area of the depot which he
(05:18):
had overlooked, he could recall none except the space beneath
a large wardrobe in the next room, which, owing to
its obvious weight, he had not moved. I suppose I
had better make sure, he said to himself, though he
did not believe so massive a piece of furniture could
have been pulled backwards and forwards without leaving scratches on
the floor. He returned to the bedroom. The wardrobe was
(05:39):
divided into two portions, a single deep drawer along the bottom,
and above it a kind of large cupboard with a
central door. He seized its end. It was certainly very heavy.
In fact, he found himself unable to move it. He
picked up his torch and examined the wooden base, and
then his interest grew, for he found it was strongly
stitch nailed to the floor, considerably mystify. He tried to
(06:00):
open the door. It was locked, and though with his
wire he eventually shot back the bolt. The trouble he
had proved that the lock was one of first quality. Indeed,
it was not a cupboard lock screwed to the inside
of the door, as might have been expected, but a
small sized mortise lock hidden in the thickness of the wood,
and the keyhole came through to the inside, just the
(06:21):
same arrangement as is usual in internal house doors. The
inside of the wardrobe revealed nothing of interest. Two coats
and waistcoats, a sweater, and some other clothes were hanging
from hooks at the back. Otherwise the space was empty. Why,
he wondered as he stood staring in should it be
necessary to lock up clothes like these? His eyes turned
(06:43):
to the drawer below, and he seized the handles and
gave a sharp pull. The drawer was evidently locked. Once again,
he produced his wire, but for the first time it
failed him. He flashed a beam from his lamp into
the hole, and then he saw the reason. The hole
was a dummy. It entered the wood but did not
go through it. It was not connected to a lock.
(07:04):
He passed a light round the edges of the drawer.
If there was no lock to fasten it, why had
he been unable to open it? He took out his
pen knife and tried to push the blade into the
surrounding space. It would not penetrate, and he saw that
there was no space, but merely a cut half an
inch deep in the wood. There was no drawer. What
seemed a drawer was merely a blind panel. Inspector Willis
(07:26):
grew more and more interested. He could not see why
all that space should be wasted, as it was clear
from the way in which the wardrobe was finished that
economy and construction had not been the motive. Once again,
he opened the door of the upper portion, and putting
his head inside, passed the beam of the lamp over
the floor. This time he gave a little snort of triumph.
The floor did not fit tight to the sides. All
(07:48):
round was a space of some eighth of an inch
the trap door. At last, he muttered, as he began
to feel about for some hidden spring. At last, pressing
down on one end of the floor, he found that
it sank, and the other end rose in the air,
revealing a square of inky blackness, out of which poured
a stream of cold, damp air, and through which he
could hear with the echoing sound peculiar to volts the
(08:11):
splashing and churning of the sea. His torch revealed a
flight of steps leading down into the darkness. Having examined
the pivoted floor to make sure there was no secret
catch which would fasten and imprison him below, he stepped
on to the ladder and began to descend. Then the
significance of the mortise lock in the wardrobe door occurred
to him, and he stopped, drew the door to behind him,
(08:32):
and with his wire locked it, descending farther, he allowed
the floor to drop gently into place above his head,
thus leaving no trace of his passage. He had by
this time reached the ground, and he stood, flashing his
torch about on his surroundings. He was in the cellar,
so low in the roof that except immediately beneath the stairs,
he could not stand upright. It was square, some twelve
(08:52):
feet either way, and from it issued two passages, one
apparently running down under the wharf, the other at right
angles and some two feet lower and level, leading as
if towards the distillery. Down the center of this ladder
ran a tiny tramway of about a foot gage on
which stood three kegs on four wheeled frames. In the
upper side of each keg was fixed a ton dish
(09:14):
to the underside a stopcock. Two insulated wires came down
through the ceiling below the cupboard in which the telephone
was installed, and ran down the tunnel towards the distillery.
The walls and ceilings of both cellar and passages were
supported by pit props, discolored by the damp and marked
by stains of earthy water which had oozed from the
spaces between. They glistened with moisture, but the air, though
(09:36):
cold and damp, was fresh that in the noise of
the waves which reverberated along the passage under the wharf,
seemed to show that there was an open connection to
the river. The cellar was empty except for a large
wooden tun or cask which reached almost to the ceiling,
and a gun. Metal hand pump pipes led from the ladder,
one to the tun the other along the passage under
(09:57):
the wharf. On the side of the tun and can
connected to it at top and bottom was a vertical
glass tube protected by a wooden casing, evidently a gauge.
As beside it was a scale headed gallons and reading
from zero at the bottom to two thousand at the top,
a dark colored liquid filled the tube up to the
figure one thousand, two hundred fifty. There was a wooden
(10:19):
spigot tap in the side of the tun at floor level,
and the tram line ran beneath this, so that the
wheeled kegs could be pushed below it and filled. The
inspector gazed with an expression of almost awe on his face. Lord,
he muttered, is it brandy? After all? He stooped and
(10:39):
smelled the wooden tap, and the last doubt was removed
from his mind. He gave vent to a comprehensive oath.
Right enough, it was hard luck here. He had been
hoping to bring off a forged note coup which would
have made his name, and the affair was a job
for the customs department. After all. Of course, a pretty
substantial reward would be due to him for his discovery,
(11:01):
And there was his murder case, all quite satisfactory. But
forged notes were more in his line, and he felt
cheated out of his do But now he was so
far he might as well learn all he could. The
more complete case he gave in, the larger the reward. Moreover,
his own curiosity was keenly aroused, the cellar, being empty
save for the tun the pump, and the small tramway
(11:22):
and tracks. He turned, and, flashing his light before him,
walked slowly along the passage, down which ran the pipe
he was, he felt sure passing under the wharf and
heading towards the river. Some sixty feet past the pump,
the floor of the passage came to an abrupt end,
falling vertically as by an enormous step, to the churning
waters of the river some six feet below. At first,
(11:43):
in the semi darkness, Whilis thought he had reached the
front of the wharf, but he soon saw he was
still in the cellar. The roof ran on at the
same level for some twenty feet farther, and the side
walls here about five feet apart, went straight down from
it into the water. Across the end was a wall
sloping outwards at the bottom and made of horizontal pit
props separated by spaces of two or three inches. Willis
(12:06):
immediately realized that these props must be those placed behind
the inner or raking rows of piles which supported the
front of the wharf. Along one side wall for its
whole length was nailed a series of horizontal lathes twelve
inches apart. What their purpose was he did not know,
but he saw that they made a ladder twenty feet
wide by which a man could work its way from
(12:26):
the passage to the end wall and reach the water
at any height of the tide. Above this ladder was
an object which it first puzzled the inspector. Then, as
he realized its object, it became highly illuminating. When a
couple of brackets secured to the wall lay a pipe
of thinness steel, covered with thick black bays, and some
sixteen feet long by an inch in diameter. Through it
(12:51):
ran the light copper pipe, which was connected at its
other end to the pump at the end of the passage.
This pipe had several joints like those of a gas bracket,
and was full it on itself concertina wise. The inspector
stepped on to the ladder and worked his way across
it to the other end of the steel pipe. Close
by the end wall. The copper pipe protruded and ended
(13:11):
in a filling like the half of a union. As
Willis gazed, he suddenly grasped its significance. The side of
the girondine, he thought would lie not more than ten
feet from where he was standing. If at night, someone
from within the cellar were to push the end of
the steel tube out through one of the spaces between
the horizontal timbers of the end wall, it could be
inserted into a porthole, supposing one were just opposite. The
(13:35):
concertina joints would make it flexible and allow it to extend,
and the baze covering would prevent its being heard should
it inadvertently strike the side of the ship. The union
on the copper tube could then be fixed to some
receptacle on board the brandy being pumped from the ship
to the tun and no outsider could possibly be any
the wiser. Given a dark night and careful operators, the
(13:56):
whole thing would be carried out invisibly and in absolute silence.
Now Willis saw the object of the peculiar construction of
the front of the wharf. It was necessary to have
two lines of piles, so that the deck between might
overshadow and screen from view the openings between the horizontal
beams at the front of the cellar. He stood marveling
at the ingenuity of the plan. No wonder Hilliard and
(14:18):
Merriman had been baffled, but if he were to finish
his investigations, he must no longer delay. He worked back
across the side of the cellar, regained the passage, and
returned to the pump room. Then turning into the other passage,
he began to walk as quickly as possible along it.
The tunnel was barely four feet high by three feet wide,
and he found progress very tiring. After a slight curve
(14:41):
at the mouth, it ran straight and almost dead level.
Its construction was the same as that of the cellar,
longitudinal timber lining supported behind verticals and lintels, spaced about
six feet apart. When he had gone about two hundred yards,
it curved sharply to the left, ran heavily timbered for
some thirty yards in the new direction, and then swung
round to the right again. I suppose the railway crosses here,
(15:03):
willis thought, as he passed painfully round to the bends.
The wet stood and drops on his forehead. When he
reached the end, and he breathed a sigh of relief
as he realized he could once more stand upright and
stretch his cramped back. He found himself in another cellar,
this time about six feet by twelve. The tramway ran
along it, stopping at the end wall. The place was
(15:23):
otherwise empty save for a wooden grating or tun dish
with a hinged lid, which was fixed between the rails
near the entrance. The telephone wires which had followed the
tunnel all the way here, vanished into the roof. Willis
concluded he must be standing beneath some part of the distillery,
and a very little thought was required to make clear
to him the raison detre of what he saw. He
(15:45):
pictured the kegs being pushed under the tap of the
large tun in the pump room, and filled with brandy
pumped in from the girondine. In imagination, he saw Benson
pushing his loaded trucks through the tunnel, much easier thing
to do than to walk without something to step over,
stopping them one by one over the grating and emptying
the contents. Therein no doubt that grating was connected to
(16:05):
some vat or tun buried still deeper beneath the distillery,
in which the brandy mingled with the other brandy brought
here by more legitimate means, and which was sold without
documentary evidence of its surprising increase in bulk. It was probable,
thought Willis, that some secret door must connect the chamber
in which he stood with the distillery, But a careful
search revealed no trace of any opening, and he was
(16:26):
forced to the conclusion that none existed. Accordingly, he turned
and began to retrace his steps through the tunnel. The
walk back seemed even longer and more irksome than his
first transit, and he stopped here and there and knelt
down in order to straighten his aching back. As he advanced,
the booming sound of the waves, which had died down
to a faint murmur at the distillery, grew louder and louder.
(16:49):
At last he reached the pump cellar and was just
about to step out of the tunnel when his eyes
caught the flicker of a light at the top of
the step ladder. Someone was coming down. Willis instantly snapped
off his own light, and for the fraction of a
second he stood transfixed, while his heart thumped and his
hand slid round to his revolver pocket. Breathlessly, he watched
a pair of legs step on to the ladder and
(17:10):
begin to descend the steps. Like a flash, he realized
what he must do. If this was Benson coming to
take up stuff to remain in the tunnel meant a
certain discovery. But if he could only reach the passage
under the wharf, he might be safe. There was nothing
to bring Benson into it, but to cross the cellar
he must pass within two feet of the ladder, and
the man was half way down. For a moment it
(17:32):
looked quite hopeless. Then unexpectedly he got his chance. The
man stopped to lock the wardrobe door. When he had finished,
Willis was already across the cellar and hurrying down the
other passage. Fortunately, the noise of the waves drowned all
other sounds. By the time the unknown had reached the
bottom of the ladder, Willis had stepped on to the
cross lathes and was descending by them. In a moment,
(17:54):
he was below the passage level. He intended, should the
other approach, to hide beneath the water, in the hopes
that in the darkness his head would not be seen.
But the light remained in the cellar, and Willis raised
himself and cautiously peeped down the passage. Then he began
to congratulate himself on what he had just been considering
his misfortune for watching there in the darkness, he saw
(18:14):
Benson carry out the very operations he had imagined were performed.
The manager wheeled the kegs one by one beneath the
great barrel, filled them from the tap, and then, setting
his lap on the last of the three, pushed them
before him down the tunnel towards the distillery. Inspector Willis
waited until he judged the other would be out of sight,
then left his hiding place and cautiously returned to the
(18:34):
pump room. The gauge now showed one thousand, one hundred
twenty five gallons, and he noted that one hundred twenty
five gallons was put up per trip. He rapidly ascended
the steps, passed out through the wardrobe, and regained the bedroom.
A few minutes later he was once more out on
the railway. He had glanced at his watch in the
building and found that it was but little after ten.
(18:57):
Benson must therefore have returned by an earlier train than usual. Again,
the inspector congratulated himself that events had turned out as
they had, for though he would have had no fear
of his personal safety had he been seen premature discovery
might have allowed the other members of the gang to
escape the last train for Hull. Having left, he started
to walk the six miles to the city. The wind
(19:18):
had still further changed for the worse, and now half
a gale of wind whirled round him in a pandemonium
of sound, and blew blinding squalls of rain into his eyes.
In a few moments, he was soaked to the skin,
and the buffeting of the wind made his progress slow,
But he struggled on, too well pleased by the success
of his evening's work to mind the discomfort, and as
(19:40):
he considered the affair on the following morning, he felt
even more satisfied. He had indeed done well. Not only
had he completed what he set out to do to
discover the murderer of Cockburn, but he had accomplished vastly more.
He had brought to light one of the greatest smuggling
conspiracies of modern times. It was true he had not
followed up and completed the case against the syndicate, but
(20:00):
that was not his business. Smuggling was not dealt with
by Scotland yard. It was a matter for the Customs Department.
But if only it had been forged notes. He heaved
a sigh as he thought of the kudos which might
have been his. But when he had gone so far,
he thought he might as well make certain that the
brandy was discharged as he imagined. He calculated that the
(20:20):
Girondine would reach Faerby on the following day, and he
determined to see the operation carried out. He followed the
plan of Hilliard and Merriment to the extent of hiring
a boat and hole, and skulling gently down towards the
wharf as dusk fell. He had kept a watch on
the river all day without seeing the motor's ship go up,
but now she passed him a couple of miles above
the city. He turned inshore when he saw her coming,
(20:41):
lest Captain Beamish's binoculars might reveal to him a familiar countenance.
He pulled easily, timing himself to arrive at the wharf
as soon as possible. After dark. The evening was dry,
but the southeasterly wind still blew cold and raw, though
not nearly so strongly as on the night of his walk.
There were a couple of lights on the Girondin, and
he steered by these till the dark mass of her counter,
(21:03):
looming up out of the night, cut them off. Slipping
round her stern, as Hillyard had done in the River Lesk,
he unshipped his oars and guided the boat by his
hand into the V shaped space between the rows of
piles fronting the wharf. As he floated gently forward, he
felt between the horizontal props which held back the filling,
until he came to a vacant space. Then, knowing he
(21:24):
was opposite the cellar, he slid the boat back a
few feet, tied her up, and settled down to wait.
Though sheltered from the wind by the hall that was
cold and damp under the wharf, the waves were lapping
among the timbers, and the boat moved uneasily. At the
end of her short painter, the darkness was absolute, an
inky blackness, unrelieved by any point of light. Willis realized
(21:44):
that waiting would soon become irksome, but it was not
so very long before the work began. He had been there,
he estimated a couple of hours, when he saw, not
ten feet away, a dim circle of light suddenly appeared
on the girondine's side. Someone had turned on a faint light,
and a cabin whose open porthole was immediately opposite the cellar. Presently, Willis,
watching breathlessly, saw what he believed was the steel pipe
(22:07):
impinge on and enter the illuminated ring. It remained projecting
into the porthole for some forty minutes, and was as
silently withdrawn. The porthole was closed, a curtain drawn across it,
and the light turned up within. The brandy had been discharged.
The thing had been done inaudibly and invisibly to anyone
on either wharf. Worship Marveling once more at the excellence
(22:29):
and secrecy of the plan, Willis gently pushed his boat
out from among the piles and rowed back down the
river to Hull. There he tied the boat up, and,
returning to his hotel, was soon fast asleep. In spite
of his delight at the discovery, he could not but
realize that much still remained to be done. Though he
had learned how the syndicate was making its money, he
had not obtained any evidence of the complicity of its
(22:49):
members in the murder of Cockburn, who, in addition to Archer,
could be involved. There were, of course, Beamish, Bullah Benson,
and n Ring. There was also a man more whose
place in the scheme of things had not yet been ascertained.
He Willis realized must be found and identified. But were
these all He doubted it. It seemed to him that
(23:11):
the smuggling system required more helpers than these. He now
understood how the brandy was got from the ship to
the distillery, and he presumed it was loaded at the
clearing in the same manner, being brought there in some
unknown way by the motor lorries. But there were two
parts of the plan of which nothing was yet known.
First where was the brandy obtained from originally? And secondly
how was it distributed from the distillery. It seemed to
(23:33):
Willis that each of these operations would require additional accomplices,
and if so, these persons might also have been implicated
in Coburn's death. He thought the thing over for three
solid hours before coming to a decision. At the end
of that time, he determined to return to London, and,
if his chief approved, lay the whole facts before the
customs department of both England and France, asking them to
(23:54):
investigate the matter in their respective countries. In the meantime,
he would concentrate on the question of complicity in them.
He left Hall by an afternoon train, and that night
was in London. End of Chapter sixteen.
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