Detective
Fix
After
vigorously
pushing
his way... |
he
circumstances under which this telegraphic dispatch about Phileas Fogg
was sent were as follows:
The steamer
Mongolia, belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company, built of iron,
of two thousand eight hundred tons burden, and five hundred horse-power,
was due at eleven o'clock a.m. on Wednesday, the 9th of October, at Suez.
The Mongolia plied regularly between Brindisi and Bombay via the Suez Canal,
and was one of the fastest steamers belonging to the company, always making
more than ten knots an hour between Brindisi and Suez, and nine and a half
between Suez and Bombay.
Two men
were promenading up and down the wharves, among the crowd of natives and
strangers who were sojourning at this once straggling village-- now, thanks
to the enterprise of M. Lesseps, a fast-growing town. One was the British
consul at Suez, who, despite the prophecies of the English Government,
and the unfavourable predictions of Stephenson, was in the habit of seeing,
from his office window, English ships daily passing to and fro on the great
canal, by which the old roundabout route from England to India by the Cape
of Good Hope was abridged by at least a half. The other was a small, slight-built
personage, with a nervous, intelligent face, and bright eyes peering out
from under eyebrows which he was incessantly twitching. He was just now
manifesting unmistakable signs of impatience, nervously pacing up and down,
and unable to stand still for a moment. This was Fix, one of the detectives
who had been dispatched from England in search of the bank robber; it was
his task to narrowly watch every passenger who arrived at Suez, and to
follow up all who seemed to be suspicious characters, or bore a resemblance
to the description of the criminal, which he had received two days before
from the police headquarters at London. The detective was evidently inspired
by the hope of obtaining the splendid reward which would be the prize of
success, and awaited with a feverish impatience, easy to understand, the
arrival of the steamer Mongolia.
"So you
say, consul," asked he for the twentieth time, "that this steamer is never
behind time?"
"No, Mr.
Fix," replied the consul. "She was bespoken yesterday at Port Said, and
the rest of the way is of no account to such a craft. I repeat that the
Mongolia has been in advance of the time required by the company's regulations,
and gained the prize awarded for excess of speed."
"Does
she come directly from Brindisi?"
"Directly
from Brindisi; she takes on the Indian mails there, and she left there
Saturday at five p.m. Have patience, Mr. Fix; she will not be late. But
really, I don't see how, from the description you have, you will be able
to recognise your man, even if he is on board the Mongolia."
"A man
rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, than recognises them.
You must have a scent for them, and a scent is like a sixth sense which
combines hearing, seeing, and smelling. I've arrested more than one of
these gentlemen in my time, and, if my thief is on board, I'll answer for
it; he'll not slip through my fingers."
"I hope
so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery."
"A magnificent
robbery, consul; fifty-five thousand pounds! We don't often have such windfalls.
Burglars are getting to be so contemptible nowadays! A fellow gets hung
for a handful of shillings!"
"Mr. Fix,"
said the consul, "I like your way of talking, and hope you'll succeed;
but I fear you will find it far from easy. Don't you see, the description
which you have there has a singular resemblance to an honest man?"
"Consul,"
remarked the detective, dogmatically, "great robbers always resemble honest
folks. Fellows who have rascally faces have only one course to take, and
that is to remain honest; otherwise they would be arrested off-hand. The
artistic thing is, to unmask honest countenances; it's no light task, I
admit, but a real art."
Mr. Fix
evidently was not wanting in a tinge of self-conceit.
Little
by little the scene on the quay became more animated; sailors of various
nations, merchants, ship-brokers, porters, fellahs, bustled to and fro
as if the steamer were immediately expected. The weather was clear, and
slightly chilly. The minarets of the town loomed above the houses in the
pale rays of the sun. A jetty pier, some two thousand yards along, extended
into the roadstead. A number of fishing-smacks and coasting boats, some
retaining the fantastic fashion of ancient galleys, were discernible on
the Red Sea.
As he
passed among the busy crowd, Fix, according to habit, scrutinised the passers-by
with a keen, rapid glance.
It was
now half-past ten.
"The steamer
doesn't come!" he exclaimed, as the port clock struck.
"She can't
be far off now," returned his companion.
"How long
will she stop at Suez?"
"Four
hours; long enough to get in her coal. It is thirteen hundred and ten miles
from Suez to Aden, at the other end of the Red Sea, and she has to take
in a fresh coal supply."
"And does
she go from Suez directly to Bombay?"
"Without
putting in anywhere."
"Good!"
said Fix. "If the robber is on board he will no doubt get off at Suez,
so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies in Asia by some other route.
He ought to know that he would not be safe an hour in India, which is English
soil."
"Unless,"
objected the consul, "he is exceptionally shrewd. An English criminal,
you know, is always better concealed in London than anywhere else."
This observation
furnished the detective food for thought, and meanwhile the consul went
away to his office. Fix, left alone, was more impatient than ever, having
a presentiment that the robber was on board the Mongolia. If he had indeed
left London intending to reach the New World, he would naturally take the
route via India, which was less watched and more difficult to watch than
that of the Atlantic. But Fix's reflections were soon interrupted by a
succession of sharp whistles, which announced the arrival of the Mongolia.
The porters and fellahs rushed down the quay, and a dozen boats pushed
off from the shore to go and meet the steamer. Soon her gigantic hull appeared
passing along between the banks, and eleven o'clock struck as she anchored
in the road. She brought an unusual number of passengers, some of whom
remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of the town, while the
greater part disembarked in the boats, and landed on the quay.
Fix took
up a position, and carefully examined each face and figure which made its
appearance. Presently one of the passengers, after vigorously pushing his
way through the importunate crowd of porters, came up to him and politely
asked if he could point out the English consulate, at the same time showing
a passport which he wished to have visaed. Fix instinctively took the passport,
and with a rapid glance read the description of its bearer. An involuntary
motion of surprise nearly escaped him, for the description in the passport
was identical with that of the bank robber which he had received from Scotland
Yard.
"Is this
your passport?" asked he.
"No, it's
my master's."
"And your
master is--"
"He stayed
on board."
"But he
must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his identity."
"Oh, is
that necessary?"
"Quite
indispensable."
"And where
is the consulate?"
"There,
on the corner of the square," said Fix, pointing to a house two hundred
steps off.
"I'll
go and fetch my master, who won't be much pleased, however, to be disturbed."
The passenger
bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer. |