“Afterward? But… as I said, the blow to my head from the door left me a bit addled, I fear.”
“I know, but I fear you must try.”
He did try, no doubt to the best of his ability. First he told how he had been dragged through the house, then taken down the back stairs and dumped upon the kitchen floor. That, in any case, was where he came fully conscious. The staff — all except for Pinkham (who was later to join them) and the coachmen (who awaited Lord and Lady Lilley at the ambassador’s residence) — had been gathered together in the kitchen, where they were held prisoner by a threatening black man with a ring in his ear, a pistol at his side, and a cutlass in his hand. Mr. Collier then explained that from that point on, all that he could glean of the robbers’ activities within the house had come to him through his ears. He heard the footsteps of more men above them as they entered through the rear of the house. How many? He could not be sure; perhaps three in addition to those who had come through the front — perhaps more. In any case, the robbers were very well organized, for they did not stay long. How long? Only minutes — as many as fifteen, though perhaps ten would be more accurate.
“And in that time,” I put it to him, “when was it Pinkham joined the rest in the kitchen?”
“Only toward the end,” said Mr. Collier. “That would have been in the last few minutes.”
“How many minutes?”
He seemed to take offense at my persistent questioning. “I have a timepiece, but I did not consult it. I can be no more accurate than I have been.”
“We shall let it stand then at a,few minutes.”
Something had occurred to him. That was evident from the vague expression that of a sudden appeared in his eyes.
“What is it?” I asked. “What are you now thinking?”
“I am now thinking that perhaps I can say with some certainty that it was just at the very end that she was brought down to the kitchen, for he who brought her had a conversation in whispers with him who had been standing guard over us.”
“Have you no idea what was discussed?” I pressed him thusly.
“Oh yes, indeed I have, for it was then that they selected Walter Travis out and took him away.”
“Walter Travis?” I knew I should know the name, but…
“The man they murdered.”
“Ah yes,” said I. (Glad I was that Sir John had not been present to hear me make such an error.) “Was he simply grabbed out of the crowd and taken away? Was nothing said?”
“Yes, there was a good deal said. A great threat was made by the one who brought Pinkham down. He said that they were leaving and none should follow. And if we was to do that, he would kill this fellow who was now their hostage, as well as any who followed. Now I can’t swear to it, because all these blackies look alike to me, but from the sound of his voice I’d say he was the same one tricked me into opening the front door for him and his fellows.”
“Are you saying then, Mr. Collier, that Walter Travis was slain because some of those in the kitchen trailed the robbers out the back?”
“No, no such thing,” said he with great certainty, “because just as soon as they were upstairs and out the back, we heard the shot, and we knew somehow that poor Travis had been killed. For some time afterward, we waited there in the kitchen. Burley, the other porter, was the only one of us who showed any eagerness to get upstairs. He got on well with Travis. You might even say as how they were friends. I cautioned Burley, held him back till there was no point holding him back further. And then he was first one up the stairs. He found the body where we expected it would be — right there in the back garden.”
“And you saw it there yourself? ” I asked.
“Well, yes, eventually. First thing I did was go through the house room by room to see all that was missing. I got to credit those black boys. They stole a lot in a very short time.”
“How much did they steal? What sort of cash value could you put upon it?”
“That would be difficult to say, but with the paintings, the silver plates, the Chinese vases, and all, I’d guess it at thousands of pounds — maybe close to ten. God knows what the jewels were worth — perhaps an equal amount, but likely more. I made up a list for my master — or former master.
Mr. Collier s listeners were brought somewhat aback by these estimates of his. There was a groan of appreciation, a whistle, and eyebrows shot up right and left.
He then added: “I suppose it was because I was so deeply involved in assessing the extent of Lord Lilley s loss that I failed to send out for a constable. Just all of a sudden, not long after the robbers left, there was a constable at the door. I suppose that you know the rest.”
I supposed that I did, for I had not then learned a tenet held by all interrogators: No matter how many times a turnip has been squeezed dry, you can always get more water from it. And so, upon ascertaining that I might reach him again through the staff of the Zondervan residence (“I’ll make sure they always know where I’m at”), I took my leave of them all, thanking Mr. Collier for his cooperation.
My patient waiting paid handsomely when word came from Lady Fielding that Sir John was at last awake, and that upon waking he had asked to see me. As the three women puttered joyfully about the kitchen preparing a dinner tray for him who had not eaten for twelve hours or more, I hurried up the stairs to his bedroom, eager to tell him all.
Yet before I could begin, he questioned me closely on the matter of food.
“Did they give you any idea how long it would be? I’m altogether famished, you know.”
“No sir, they did not,” said I. “But all three were working at it. You should not have long to wait.”
“There was none of this nonsense about clear broth, was there?”
“I did not discuss it with them, sir, but I know it as fact that Annie went especially to Mr. Tolliver’s in Covent Garden for a beef chop. I happened to glimpse it sir, and it’s monstrous large.”
He smacked his lips as a child might. ” ‘Monstrous large,’ you say? Couldn’t suit me better. But quickly, if you can, dear boy, tell me if you’ve made progress in the Lilley matter. Give me your report.”
Quickly was indeed how I told it. Because I knew I had much to tell, I had organized it well during the time that he slept. First I told of finding Mr. Collier at the Zondervan residence through Annie’s help and of the interrogation that followed. I made no effort to repeat question and answer through the entire session, but rather offered what I thought to be the most important items to emerge from my discussion with the butler.
For instance, this: “Mr. Collier estimated the worth of all things stolen at up to twenty thousand pounds.”
“So much?” Sir John groaned. “Oh, dear God! What more?”
“Well, there was this, sir: According to Mr. Collier’s recollection of the time he spent in the kitchen with the rest, awaiting the robbers’ departure, the lady’s maid, Mistress Pinkham, did not join her fellow servants until the house had been sacked. Not until they left was she put with the others in the kitchen.”
“Hmmm,” said he, “that was not the impression she created when she talked to us, was it?”
“No sir, it was not. There may be cause for suspicion.”
“There may be. Continue to look for her. We must talk with her again. What else did you turn up?”
“Not much worth mentioning from Mr. Collier. However, I interviewed Constable Patley as he was coming on duty this evening.”
“And what did you discover?”
“I discovered that the supposed servant from the Lilley residence who notified Constable Patley of the grand robbery was more or less fictitious.”
” ‘More or less’? What does that mean?”
“It means, sir, that while we must credit it that Mr. Patley was approached by someone and told of the robbery, we do not know the identity of that someone. The name given by the constable in the rather crude document which pretends to be his written report of the crime corresponds to that of no one on the household staff of the Lilley residence. Nor does Mr. Collier recall sending anyone forth to report the crimes of theft and murder; he said that he was too busy tallying up the cash value of the objects stolen to remember to do what needed to be done.”