Christopher Quarles: College Professor and Master Detective

"No, no," said Quarles, "I haven't got as far as thinking anything definite yet. The will then explains in a riddle where the treasure is hidden. He was alone in a room. He didn't send the treasure out of the house. The statements are so deliberate that I am inclined to believe in a treasure of some sort."

"So am I," I answered, "because of the valuable pin he gave to his man."

"When was this will made?" asked Quarles.

"Nine years ago."

"Living as he did, he would hardly spend his pension," the professor went on. "Money would accumulate in nine years, and, since there is no evidence that he did anything else with it, we may assume that the hoard was periodically added to, and, therefore, he must have placed it where he could get at it without much difficulty."

For a moment Quarles studied the paper.

"I think we may take his statements literally," he went on; "so unless the treasure was very small, small enough to be concealed inside a brick, it seems obvious that it was not hidden in the walls of the house, or it would have been found in the process of pulling down."

"If we are to be quite literal, we must remember that he says brick by brick," I pointed out. "It might therefore be hidden in a brick."

"I have thought of that," Quarles returned; "but in pulling down bricks would get broken, especially a hollow brick, as this would be. I think we may take the words to mean only total demolition, and that there is no special significance in the expression 'brick by brick.' Burning does away with the idea that the treasure may be hidden in woodwork."

"If he put it under a ground floor room or under a cellar neither pulling down nor a fire would disclose it," said Zena.

"Every flag in the cellars has been taken up," I answered; "and all the ground underneath the house has been dug up."

"Is there a well?" she asked.

"No; that was the first thing I looked for when I came there."

"He says in a room," Quarles went on. "I don't think that means a cellar."

"Do you think the treasure was small in bulk and placed in his coffin?" said Zena eagerly, leaning forward in her chair as she asked the question.

"Certainly in that case he would be perfectly justified in saying that he didn't send it out of the house," said Quarles.

"It is most improbable," I said. "To begin with, Mr. Ottershaw wished to be cremated, so would hardly leave any such instructions. And, further, Sims saw him placed in his coffin, and says nothing was buried with the body."

"It is an interesting problem," said the professor; "but one does not feel very much inclined to help the Bryants."

"Then you have a theory?" I asked.

"I haven't got so far as theory; I am only rather keen to try my wits. There is a shadowy idea at the back of my brain which may be gone by morning. If it hasn't, we'll go and see Sims."

Next morning when I went to Chelsea, as I had arranged to do, I found Quarles waiting for me, and we went to Fulham together. Sims had two rooms in his niece's house, but took his meals with the family. We went into his sitting room and he was quite ready to talk about Mr. Ottershaw. I told him that Quarles was a gentleman who thought he could find the hidden money.

"I shall be very glad if he does," said Sims. "The Bryants will know then that I had nothing to do with it. Mr. Charles has been the worst; but since I tried to sell that pin Mr. George has been as bad."

"I take it you don't like the Bryants," said Quarles.

"I don't dislike them, only when they bother me."

"Your master didn't like them?"

"Didn't he? I never heard him say. He wasn't in the habit of saying much to anybody, not even to me."

"You were fond of him?"

"Loved him. He wasn't what you would call a lovable character, but I loved him, and he liked me. You see, him and me were born in the same neighborhood, five miles out of Worcester; and when he came back from India he came down there to see an old friend, since dead, and I happened to be there at the time out of a job. That's how we came together fifteen years ago."

"You didn't go at once to Norbiton?"

"Not until three years afterward."

"Where were you during those three years?"

"In several places, part of the time in Switzerland, and in Germany."

"Now about this treasure, Mr. Sims?"

"Bless you, sir, I don't believe in it."

"The will very distinctly mentions it."

"I know. I've heard such a lot about that will from the Bryants that I know it almost by heart. It was a joke, that's what I think. Why, Mr. Charles has asked me more than once whether I didn't slip it into his coffin."

"Mr. Ottershaw gave you no such instructions, I suppose," said Quarles.

"The only instructions he gave was that I was to lay him out, and to see him put into his coffin if he was buried, and, whatever happened, to see him decently carried out of the house. There was some talk of his being cremated, and I suppose the master didn't know how they would take him away then. No doubt he thought the Bryants would have a woman to lay him out, so he left a letter for me to show them. The master always did hate women."

"And you did this for him?"

"Gladly, and I helped the undertaker lift him into the coffin. I was there when he was screwed down, so were Mr. George and Mr. Charles. There was nothing but the body buried, nothing."

"The Bryants wouldn't have him cremated, I understand," said Quarles.

"And quite right, too," said Sims. "It's a heathenish custom, that's what I think."

"And you don't believe there was any large sum of money?"

"No, I don't. I should have seen some sign of it."

"Your master gave you a very valuable pin," said Quarles; "I don't suppose you had seen that before."

"It's true, I hadn't."

"There may have been other valuables where that came from."

"I don't think it," said Sims. "I don't believe the master himself knew it was so valuable."

As we walked up the Fulham Road I asked the professor what he thought of Sims.

"Simple – and honest, I fancy."