THE TRENCH DAYS: The Collected War Tales of William Le Queux (WW1 Adventure Sagas, Espionage Thrillers & Action Classics). William Le Queux

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      Chapter Five

       Certain Curious Facts

       Table of Contents

      Both men searched eagerly through the drawers of the writing-table to see if the dead man had left another envelope addressed to his friend. Two of the drawers were locked, but these they opened with the key which they found upon poor Jerrold’s watch-chain which he was wearing.

      Some private papers, accounts and ledgers, were in the drawers, but the envelope of which they were in search they failed to discover.

      It seemed evident that Jerome Jerrold had written the envelope in which he had enclosed a letter, but, on reflection, he had torn it up. Though the crumpled fragments of the envelope were there, yet the letter — whatever it might have been — was missing. And their careful examination of the waste-paper basket revealed nothing, whereupon Sir Houston Bird remarked —

      “He may, of course, have changed his mind, and burned it, after all!”

      “Perhaps he did,” Jack agreed. “But I wonder what could have been the message he wished to give me a year after his death? Why not now?”

      “People who take their own lives sometimes have curious hallucinations. I have known many. Suicide is a fascinating, if very grim study.”

      “Then you really think this is a case of suicide?”

      “I can, I fear, give no opinion until after the post-mortem, Mr Sainsbury,” was Sir Houston’s guarded reply, his face grave and thoughtful.

      “But it is all so strange, so remarkable,” exclaimed the younger man. “Why did he tell me that he’d been shot, if he hadn’t?”

      “Because to you, his most intimate friend, he perhaps, as you suggested, wished to conceal the fact that he had been guilty of the cowardly action of taking his own life,” was the reply.

      “It is a mystery — a profound mystery,” declared Jack Sainsbury. “Jerome dined with Mr Trustram, and the latter came back here with him. Meanwhile, Mr Lewin Rodwell was very anxious concerning him. Why? Was Rodwell a friend of Jerome’s? Do you happen to know that?”

      “I happen to know to the contrary,” declared the great pathologist. “Only a week ago we met at Charing Cross Hospital, and some chance remark brought up Rodwell’s name, when Jerrold burst forth angrily, and declared most emphatically that the man who posed as such a patriotic Englishman would, one day, be unmasked and exposed in his true colours. In confidence, he made an allegation that Lewin Rodwell’s real name was Ludwig Heitzman, and that he was born in Hanover. He had become a naturalised Englishman ten years ago in Glasgow, and had, by deed-poll, changed his name to Lewin Rodwell.”

      Jack Sainsbury stared the speaker full in the face.

      Lewin Rodwell, the great patriot who, since the outbreak of war, had been in the forefront of every charitable movement, who had been belauded by the Press, and to whom the Prime Minister had referred in the most eulogistic terms in the House of Commons, was a German!

      “That’s utterly impossible,” exclaimed Jack. “He is one of the directors of the Ochrida Copper Corporation, in whose office I am. I know Mr Rodwell well. There’s no trace whatever of German birth about him.”

      “Jerrold assured me that his real name was Heitzman, that he had been born of poor parents, and had been educated by an English shipping-agent in Hamburg, who had adopted him and sent him to England. On the Englishman’s death he inherited about two thousand pounds, which he made the nucleus of his present fortune.”

      “That’s all news to me,” said Jack reflectively; “and yet — ”

      “What? Do you know something regarding Rodwell then?” inquired Sir Houston quickly.

      “No,” he replied. “Nothing very extraordinary. What you have just told me surprises me greatly.”

      “Just as it surprised me. Yet, surely, his case is only one of many similar. Thousands of Germans have come here, and become naturalised Englishmen.”

      “A German who becomes a naturalised Englishman is a traitor to his own country, while he poses as our friend. I contend that we have no use for traitors of any sort in England to-day,” declared Jack vehemently; both men being still engaged in searching the dead man’s room to discover the message which it appeared had been his intention to leave after his death. They had carefully examined the grate, but found no trace of any burnt paper. Yet, from the fact that a piece of red sealing-wax and a burnt taper lay upon the writing-table, it appeared that something had been recently sealed, though the torn envelope bore no seal.

      If an envelope had been sealed, then where was it?

      “We shall, no doubt, be able to establish the truth of Jerrold’s allegation by reference to the register of naturalised Germans kept at the Home Office,” Sir Houston said at last.

      Jack was silent for a few moments, and then answered:

      “That, I fear, may be a little difficult. Jerrold has often told me how it had been discovered that it was a favourite dodge of Germans, after becoming naturalised and changing their names by deed-poll, to adopt a second and rather similar name, in order to avoid any inquiry along the channel which you have just suggested. As an example, if Ludwig Heitzman became naturalised, then it is more than probable that when he changed his name by deed-poll he did not adopt the name of Lewin Rodwell, but something rather near it.”

      “Very likely,” was the great doctor’s remark.

      Suddenly Jack Sainsbury paused and, facing his companion, said:

      “Look here, Sir Houston. In this tragic affair I believe there’s something more than suicide. That’s my firm opinion. Reflect for one moment, and follow my suspicions. Poor Jerome, in addition to his profession, has for some years been unofficially assisting the Intelligence Department of the War Office. He was one of the keenest and cleverest investigators in England. He scented acts of espionage as a terrier does a rat, and by his efforts half a dozen, or so, dangerous spies have been arrested and punished. In a modest way I have been his assistant, and have helped to watch and follow suspected persons. Together, we have traced cases of petrol-running to the coast, investigated night-signalling in the southern counties, and other things, therefore I happen to know that he was keen on the work. Curious that he never told me of his grave suspicions regarding Mr Rodwell.”

      “Perhaps he had a reason for concealing them from you,” was the other’s reply.

      “But СКАЧАТЬ