Here is the case of the bond robbery as it had been presented to Martin Hewitt that morning, while I was at St. Augustine’s Hospital, and as I learned it from him later. I had been a little puzzled to hear Hewitt say that the case had seemed so desperately hopeless that he advised the calling in of the police, because my experience had rather been that it was Hewitt who was commonly called in — often too late — when the police were beaten, and I had never before heard of a case in which this order of things was reversed. It turned out, however, as will be seen, that in the state of the matter as it first presented itself the only measures that seemed possible were such as it was in the power of the police alone to adopt.

Messrs. Kingsley, Bell, and Dalton were an old-established firm of brokers whose operations were not enormous nor much in the eye of the public, but who carried on a steady and reputable business in a set of offices high up in a great building in Broad Street — a building so large that the notice “Offices to let” was a permanent fixture in the front porch. The firm’s clients were chiefly steady-going investors of the old-fashioned sort, who wished to avoid all speculative fireworks, and to deal through a firm whose habits were conformable to their own. The last Kingsley had left the firm and soon afterward died, some few years back, and now the head of the firm was Mr. Robert Stanstead Bell, a gentleman of some sixty years of age. There were a couple of sleeping partners — relations — but the one other active partner was Mr. Clarence Dalton, a young man but recently advanced to partnership, and, it was said, likely to become Mr. Bell’s son-in-law whenever the old gentleman’s daughter Lilian should be married.

The steady, even round of business to which Kingsley, Bell, and Dalton, and their clerks were accustomed was suddenly interrupted by an appalling loss. It was discovered that bonds were missing from the safe, bonds to the amount of some ￡25,000; and whence, how, or when they were taken was an utter mystery. It was this loss which had occasioned the urgent message to Hewitt.

When Hewitt reached the spot he was shown at once into an inner office, where Mr. Bell sat waiting. The old gentleman was in a sad state of agitation, and it was with some difficulty that Hewitt got from him a reasonably connected account of the trouble.

“The loss comes at such a time, Mr. Hewitt,” the senior partner explained, “that I don’t know but it may ruin us utterly, unless my clients’ property can be recovered. We have had to pay out heavy sums of late to the representatives of dead or retiring partners, and other circumstances combine with these to make the matter in this way even more terribly serious than the very large amount of the loss would seem to suggest. So I beg you will do what you can.”

“That of course,” responded Hewitt. “But please tell me, as clearly as you can, the precise circumstances of the case. Where were the bonds taken from?”

“This safe,” Mr. Bell answered, turning toward a very large and heavy one, which might almost have been called a small strong room. “They were kept, together with others, in this box, one of several, as you see. The box was fastened, like the rest, with a Tripp’s patent lever padlock, the only key of which I kept, together with the key of the safe.”

The box indicated was one of ordinary thin sheet iron, japanned black — something like what is called a deed box.

“The padlock has been broken open, I see,” Hewitt observed.

“Yes, but I did that myself this morning. It had been blocked up in some way, so that the key wouldn’t turn — doubtless in order to cause delay when next the box should come to be opened. As it was I might have desisted and put off opening it till later, but I had a reason for wishing to refer at once to a list which was in the box, and so I decided to break the padlock. It was more difficult than one might expect, with such a small padlock.”

“And then you discovered your loss?”

“Then I discovered the loss, Mr. Hewitt, though it was a mere chance even then. For see! All the bonds have not been taken, and those left are placed on the top, while the space below is filled with dummies. I hardly know why I turned them over — for the list was at the top — but I did, and then ——” Mr. Bell finished with a despairing gesture.

“And this was some time this morning?”

“At about half-past eleven.”

“And when did you last open the box before that?”

“Ten days ago at least, I should think — and even then the bonds may have been gone, for I only opened it to refer to the same list, and I examined nothing else.”

“You say that some bonds are left and others are gone. I presume those taken are such as would be easy to negotiate, and those left are such as would be difficult. Is that the fact?”

“Precisely.”

“Then the thief evidently knows the ropes, and altogether the matter would seem awkward. For anything short of ten days, you see, and quite possibly for even a longer time than that, these bonds have been in the undisturbed possession of some person who could easily dispose of them, and would certainly do so without a moment’s delay.”

Mr. Bell nodded sadly. “Quite true,” he said.

“But now tell me a little more. You say you yourself keep the only key of the padlock, as well as the key of the safe. So that you open the safe every morning yourself and close it at night?”

“Just so.”

“And do you never entrust the keys to anybody else?”

“The key of the safe is on a separate bunch from the key of the box. This second bunch, with the key of the box, is always in my pocket, and not a soul else ever touches it. The other bunch, with the outer key of the safe, I sometimes hand to my partner, or to the head clerk, Mr. Foster, if something is wanted from the safe when I am busy. Though, as a rule, the safe door is open so long as I am about the place. Nothing but the books can be taken out without the use of other keys for the drawers and boxes, which I keep on the private bunch.”

“And would it be possible for anybody — anybody at all, mind — to get at that private bunch of keys in such a way, for instance, as to be able to take a wax impression of the key of that bond-box?”

“No, certainly not,” Mr. Bell answered with decision. “Certainly not. At any rate, not in this office,” he added.

“Ah, not in this office. Anywhere else?”

“No, nor anywhere else, I should think,” the other replied, though this time a little more thoughtfully. “There’s only my own family at home and the servants and ——”

“Anybody who has access to this room of the office?” Hewitt asked keenly.

Mr. Bell seemed a little startled.

“Why, no,” he said, “nobody at home comes to the office — not even a visitor, except, of course, my junior partner, who visits the room pretty frequently.”

“Very well. You don’t remember ever mislaying the keys temporarily, I suppose, either here or at home?”

“No-o,” Mr. Bell replied slowly. “I can’t say that I do remember anything of the sort. No — and I believe I should be sure to remember if I had.”

“Ah! And when you realised your loss what did you do? Told your partner first, I suppose?”

“No — he doesn’t know of the discovery. He went out just before I made it, and I don’t expect him in again to-day.” But as Mr. Bell spoke there grew plain in his face the pallor of a new fear.

Martin Hewitt observed it, but kept his thoughts to himself. “Well,” he said, “you didn’t tell your partner. Nor the police?”

“No, Mr. Hewitt. You see, of course, the first thing the police attempt is to catch and punish the thief, and they make the recovery of the property a subsidiary object. But for me, Mr. Hewitt, the recovery of the property, as I have explained, is the one great consideration. Punish the thief by all means, but first save me from ruin, Mr. Hewitt! That is why I sent for you; for that, and because I thought it might be advisable to keep the matter quiet, till you had taken some steps.”

“There is something in that consideration, certainly. So you have told nobody of the loss, except me?”

“Nobody but Foster, my head clerk — an old and faithful servant. It was he, in fact, who suggested sending for you. As he put it very forcibly, you can act for me and my interests, while the police act for themselves, and — very properly, of course, as police — in the interest of the community.”

“Very well. I see you have several clerks in the outer office. Do they ever come into this room?”

“Never, unless they are sent for.”

“If you and your partner were out, and one of the clerks came in without being sent for, the rest would know it, of course?............