DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.22217#0134
122
THE SPOILT PHOTOGRAPH.
To Leith accordingly I went, and found The Shannon, her
cargo already discharged, and only a few of the men on board.
Some had been paid off and some were off for a few days on
leave. The man whom I questioned—for the captain had
gone home too—seemed to me sullen and suspicious. He
did not know if one of the men had gone eastwards to see his
wife ; if any of them lived in that quarter he had never heard
of it, and so on. I was dissatisfied with the answers and the
man's manner, and had he resembled in the slightest degree
the portrait in my pocket I should have arrested him on the
spot. I thought I would bring out the photograph as a test.
Holding it up before him, I said sharply—
" Do you know that man ? "
" No, I don't." The answer came out almost before he had
time to look at the features. It was too prompt. It was a lie.
The falsehood told me more than the truth would have done.
It not only convinced me that I was at least on the track of
the photographed sailor, but roused in my mind for the first
time a strong suspicion that he was the knifer of M'Culloch.
I went from the ship to the shipping agents. I found the clerk
who had handed their pay to all the men; and on producing
the photograph saw that he recognised it instantly.
" Yes, that was one of them," he said, " but he was paid off,
and has gone home."
I asked the man's name, and, on referring to the books, he
gave it as Tom Fisher. With some difficulty he got me the
man's address—which was in a town some miles east—and his
trouble arose from the fact that no money had been sent to
Fisher's wife for nearly a year.
The sailors' wives often drew one half the men's pay, but she
had not applied for it during that time, and was supposed to
have changed her address.
" I didn't say anything of it to Fisher," said the clerk in
conclusion, " and he seemed quite elated at having so much
money to draw. It's a kittle thing interfering between a man
and his wife, and it might have alarmed him needlessly. If
there's anything wrong he's best to find it out himself."
I left the shipping office, and took the first train for the town
in which Fisher had his home. If he was to be found any-
where, I thought it would be there—and especially so if he
turned out to be innocent. It is a quiet country place in
which everyone knows his neighbours, and I had no difficulty
in finding the house. But it was occupied by an old woman.
THE SPOILT PHOTOGRAPH.
To Leith accordingly I went, and found The Shannon, her
cargo already discharged, and only a few of the men on board.
Some had been paid off and some were off for a few days on
leave. The man whom I questioned—for the captain had
gone home too—seemed to me sullen and suspicious. He
did not know if one of the men had gone eastwards to see his
wife ; if any of them lived in that quarter he had never heard
of it, and so on. I was dissatisfied with the answers and the
man's manner, and had he resembled in the slightest degree
the portrait in my pocket I should have arrested him on the
spot. I thought I would bring out the photograph as a test.
Holding it up before him, I said sharply—
" Do you know that man ? "
" No, I don't." The answer came out almost before he had
time to look at the features. It was too prompt. It was a lie.
The falsehood told me more than the truth would have done.
It not only convinced me that I was at least on the track of
the photographed sailor, but roused in my mind for the first
time a strong suspicion that he was the knifer of M'Culloch.
I went from the ship to the shipping agents. I found the clerk
who had handed their pay to all the men; and on producing
the photograph saw that he recognised it instantly.
" Yes, that was one of them," he said, " but he was paid off,
and has gone home."
I asked the man's name, and, on referring to the books, he
gave it as Tom Fisher. With some difficulty he got me the
man's address—which was in a town some miles east—and his
trouble arose from the fact that no money had been sent to
Fisher's wife for nearly a year.
The sailors' wives often drew one half the men's pay, but she
had not applied for it during that time, and was supposed to
have changed her address.
" I didn't say anything of it to Fisher," said the clerk in
conclusion, " and he seemed quite elated at having so much
money to draw. It's a kittle thing interfering between a man
and his wife, and it might have alarmed him needlessly. If
there's anything wrong he's best to find it out himself."
I left the shipping office, and took the first train for the town
in which Fisher had his home. If he was to be found any-
where, I thought it would be there—and especially so if he
turned out to be innocent. It is a quiet country place in
which everyone knows his neighbours, and I had no difficulty
in finding the house. But it was occupied by an old woman.