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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Not Myatt?" I said. "After the chase " "No, not Myatt." "Catherton Hunt?" "No, nor Catherton Hunt. He had opened it in the name of Mayes!" "What! his actual name?" "His actual original name, according to Peytral.
Remember the little 'ceremony of initiation' that the scoundrel attempted to persuade you to submit to! That meant hypnotism perhaps death. "But this is mere speculation. Mayes found that the keys on the premises were not enough to release his money, even if the strict rules of the bank had permitted the cashing of a cheque out of hours.
Consider poor Jacob Mason! Remember how he struggled to tell what he knew, oppressed by the horror of it, and how it all ended! And remember Henning the clerk, Mayes's tool in that case of bond robbery! What has happened to him? He committed suicide, as you know, immediately after Mayes had left him at the barn.
Brett, this power of hypnotism, a power for healing in the hands of a good man, may become a terrible power for evil in the hands of a villain!" "But Telfer, to-day? He seems to have known nothing of Mayes, and he was not one of his regular creatures Mayes himself told me so." "About that I don't know.
I went in, seeing the door wide open, and found the agent, a little, shop-walkery sort of chap, hard at work with his clerk among piles of cardboard boxes. I wouldn't go further, in case I were spotted. Do you think you'd be cool enough to do it without arousing suspicion? Mayes doesn't know you, you see. What do you think?
Hewitt despatched his telegram, and in a very few minutes we were in a cab on the way to the Admiralty. "This is the way of it," Plummer said. "You will remember that when we lost Mayes at the end of the Lever Key case, I was waiting for him in that city office, with an assistant, and that we only saw him for an instant in the lift.
Sure enough a telegram was there, and it ran thus: /# "On the night you know of, Mayes went first to 37 Raven Street, Blackfriars, then to 8 Norbury Row, Barbican. Message follows." #/ "Now we're at work," Hewitt said, briskly, "and for a while we part. I shall make a few changes of dress, and go to take a look at 37 Raven Street, Blackfriars. Will you two go on to Norbury Row?
"I know that case, too, as well as the other." "Do you know the name of the murderer?" "I think I do. We speak in confidence, of course, as client and professional man?" "Of course. What was his name?" "I have heard two Everard Myatt and Catherton Hunt." "Neither is his real name, and I doubt if anybody but himself knows it. Twenty years ago and more I knew him as Mayes. He was a Jamaican. Mr.
Plainly he had no weapon, or he would have used it; but I was at disadvantage enough, with my right wrist chained to the wall. I clung with all my might, and endeavoured to swing my enemy round against the wall in order that I might clasp my hands about him, and I shouted my loudest as I did it. But the chair and the broken glass hampered me, and Mayes was desperate.
Corder was quite positive that it was the man, although he had only seen him for a moment in the lift. He hadn't seen him go into the Admiralty office, but he was passing as he came out, and noted the time exactly, so that he might report to me at the first opportunity. The time was 11.32, and Mayes jumped into a hansom and drove off.
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