“I believe you,” Bell grunted. “This is a rum turn. You’d better come in. I’ve got something to show you.”
Reggie followed him into the shop. The beam of a torch flashed round upon draperies bedraggled by water. Bell went on to the back. “See that.” It was a taper between two celluloid plates set under a display of muslins. But the taper had gone out. “That’s one,” said Bell grimly. “Come on.” He led the way into another department. There a smell of dank smoke hung heavy on the air. Some baskets of stationery were charred but not consumed. “Number two,” said Bell. “Now this way.” He turned back to a staircase - a wooden staircase, sodden with water - and the flash of his torch showed it discoloured with scorching. “All ablaze, this was. And look at the black above. Smell it? Petrol or paraffin. Come on.” He led the way to the floor above. “This is where the fire really did a bit.” He swung the beam of the torch round. The place was a mess of burnt materials. “Cotton and flannelette stuffs, all burning good, this was. But you notice the fire started twice below - and yet this burnt independent - this is where they saw it; this is where the smoke came from. Well, I ask you! A clear case of arson, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Quite clear. Yes.” Reggie smiled. “Somebody struck a match or so. Who was it?”
“That’s what I’m asking you. When the firemen got here, they found Garner lying unconscious out at the back. And that window at the back was open.”
Reggie went to it. It looked out on to the yard in which the vans of Garner could be seen in the dawn twilight. It was close to the wall with the spiked railings on it which shut in the yard.
“Yes. Very suggestive. Yes,” Reggie murmured.
“It is,” said Bell with gusto. “Somebody set fire to the place. Somebody who knew it well. I reckon all these separate outbreaks were managed with a taper and celluloid arrangement like the one we found. Works like a time fuse. A very old dodge.”
“Quite old. Yes. Candle and celluloid used in Blunt’s fire. By the way, did the zealous inspector have the Blunts watched to - night, as intended?”
“He did!” Bell gave a grunting chuckle. “He was on the job himself too. They went to church, and after church they were shadowed going a walk across the common just like they said they did on that other Sunday night when Goldschild was burgled. They didn’t speak to a soul, nor meet anybody. He followed ‘em right home, and when he got back to the station he heard Garner’s shop was on fire. So he’s managed to prove they had nothing to do with it.”
“Very neat. Very useful. He must be pleased.”
Bell laughed. “Not half, sir. Do him good. Just as well they were followed though, isn’t it?”
“Oh yes. Yes.” Reggie looked at him sideways. “Essential.”
“That’s right. We’d have been bound to think of Blunt this fire being so like his. But there you are! Well, the chap that started this fire got in quiet and easy, no trace where. He began down below. One arrangement went out, the other didn’t get a fair hold. He came on up here, and this one went a bit too fast for him, I reckon. Or else he always meant to skip off by that window over the wall. And Garner was found in a heap underneath it. That’s a pretty good case, eh?”
“Yes. Quite strong. Yes. Might be stronger. You haven’t found Mr. Garner’s little finger?”
“No, we have not. That’s a queer turn. We’ll have another look in daylight. But I can’t make out how it was broken off.”
“My Bell! Oh, my Bell!” Reggie sighed. “Didn’t the finger suggest anything to the experienced mind? There was a case of a lost finger just like this - Clerkenwell case.”
“My oath!” Bell muttered, and came to the window and put out his head.
“Yes. The spikes,” said Reggie. He flashed the torch. “What is that on the fourth spike?”
Bell climbed out on to the wall. The fourth spike of the railings held, piercing between a ring and the flesh, a little finger, He drew it off, came back with it, held it out to Reggie.
“Thanks.” Reggie examined it. “Bloodstone signet, engraved F. G. Thus fitting our Mr. Garner. I’ll see if the finger fits him. Which I do not doubt. Quite like the Clerkenwell burglar, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” Bell growled. “He was on the wall he grabbed the railings, that spike ran up between the ring and the finger, he hung by this little finger, and it broke off with his weight. Just the same as that Clerkenwell case. My Lord, we’ve got him.”
“Evidence very impressive. Yes. You haven’t got his hat. I should say you will if you look. I’ll go and try the finger on him. More convenient while he’s unconscious. Good - bye.” …
The finger did fit, and in the van yard Bell found a man’s hat, scorched and crushed, in which were the initials F. G… .
Some days afterwards another conference assembled in Bell’s room. No sign of chastening appeared in the Bournham inspector. His self - satisfaction was more truculent than ever as he greeted Reggie with, “Seen anything of the Smiler, Mr. Fortune? We haven’t.”
“That’s enough,” Bell snubbed him. “You haven’t laid any egg for you to cackle, my lad.” He turned to Reggie. “Well, we’ve got a statement from Garner, Mr. Fortune. His story is: he was going home from chapel, as his custom is; he’s a senior deacon or something. He went home alone; he’d got into his own road when somebody hit him from behind, and he don’t know any more till he came to in the hospital. He can’t account for the fire in his premises - he don’t know of any enemy he has, except Blunt, who always had a grudge against him.”
“And that won’t do,” the inspector announced. “Whoever did anything fishy that night, it wasn’t the Blunts. I can swear to that.”
“Yes. You’ve been very useful,” Reggie purred.
“I work out the facts, Mr. Fortune. And I’ve got it clear enough, now, Garner had his reasons for wanting money. He’s bit off more than he could chew with that big store. He’s heavily insured, and a fire would have suited him nicely. If you ask me, he’s been working to have us watch the Blunts while he faked the fire. I lay it was him sent me that letter turning us on to them for Sunday night. I - -”
“I didn’t ask you,” Bell growled. “Now, Mr. Fortune, about Garner’s injuries - what would you say as medical evidence?”
“I should have to say - all his injuries are consistent with fallin’ from the spikes of that wall - might have been the result of an attack as claimed - but, if so, someone planned them very skilfully to simulate exact effects of having fallen with his little finger caught on that spike.”
