The Man from Manchester ... With twenty-three illustrations, etc

Front matter

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS om DICK DONOVAN'S BOOKS. THE MAN-HUNTER. Post 8vo, illustrated boards, is.; cloth, is. 6d. James Payn, in the Illustrated News for October 13th, 1888, says :— ' "The Man-Hunter" is a story-book which should in these days, when we are all man- (or monster-) hunting, have a phenomenal circulation. . . . A good book of its kind.' Glasgow Herald. — ' This detective is a second Lecoq ; indeed, he has adopted the wonderful Frenchman as his model, and prizes as his most cherished possession a false beard which once belonged to Gaboriau's hero. ' Scotsman. — 'The stories are not the less enthralling in their interest because they are the record of actual experience, and not, like so many of the detective stories of the moment, the creation of ingenuity and imagination working in fiction. . . .

The stories are narrated with a forcible simplicity which makes them more effective than would any subtleties of style.' Manchester Examiner. — ' Well written and entertaining stories. They deal with a variety of crimes and strange adventures.' Derbyshire Courier. — ' Without doubt one of the best collections of detective stories ever produced.' Derby Gazette. — ' Messrs. Chatto and Windus have just brought out a capital volume of detective stories by Dick Donovan, and it will doubtless enjoy a wide popularity.' Literary World. — '"The Man-Hunter," by Dick Donovan, is a collection of detective stories told in an off-hand, direct, circumstantial way, in keeping with the statement in the sub-title, to the effect that they are leaves from the note-book of a member of the force.' The Echo. — ' A capital book for railway reading.' Perthshire Advertiser. — ' Thrilling stories, told with a literary skill and force of imagination well calculated to elicit the interest of the most careless reader.' Whitehall Review. — ' The adventures of a successful thief-catcher, well told by himself, have a bizarre fascination of their own, and certainly Dick Donovan's exploits lose none of their glory in his deft handling.' OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

Manchester Guardian. — ' The tales are well told, and the book is distinctly worth reading. ' Birmingham Daily Post. — 'For such a book as this, popularity is certain. The tales are very cleverly told, and the situations are thrilling and exciting, and the ingenuity and patience with which the slender threads of evidence are followed up is remarkable.' CAUGHT AT LAST! Post 8vo, illustrated boards, is.; cloth, is. 6d. Whitehall Review. — ' This fascinating volume contains fifteen excellent stories. . . . Some of them refer to catises celebres of our own day ; others again deal with matters that are quite fresh to us. The author in his capacity of detective puts Lecoq to the blush, and the manner in which he discovers some of the crimes which are entrusted to his powers of elucidation is as original as it is successful.

Chapter I. The London Express

T was a dark November afternoon, and the time within a minute or two of a quarter-past four. The up-platform of the London Road Station, Manchester, presented a busy scene of confusion and bustle, as was usually the case at that hour, for the London express was timed to leave at 4.15. On this particular afternoon there seemed to be an unusual number of passengers, and the train was very crowded. Two gentlemen, however, who were comfortably ensconced in a first-class compartment near the engine, had managed so far to keep out intruders, a judicious tip to the guard having had a magical effect. Excited passengers had repeatedly rushed up to this compartment, but, finding the door locked, had growled out something naughty and gone to another carriage, much to the satisfaction of the two gentlemen, who smiled and seemed well-pleased at the success of their efforts to keep themselves isolated.

These two men were utter strangers to each other, and had come together for the first time in their lives. And it is in the highest degree probable that had a third party, gifted with the power of prophecy, ventured to tell those two men that their chance meeting in a rail way carriage on that dark November afternoon was destined to be the beginning of a series of most astound ing events that would bring them both into public notoriety, they would surely have laughed the prophet to scorn. In personal appearance the two men presented as striking a contrast as it is possible to conceive. One was a handsome, well-made, burly fellow, not more than thirty years of age. There was something about him — what it is not easy to accurately define — that at once stamped him as representing the better type of the true ' Manchester Man.' He had a round, healthily-coloured face, clean-shaved, save for a somewhat heavy moustache, that was full and round, and curled under to his lips, while his expression was at once frank and pleasing, and gave one the idea that life went well with him, and he enjoyed it.

He had dark-blue eyes, that beamed with laughter and contentment. His hair, which was lightish brown, clustered about his forehead in tiny curls, almost like a young boy's. He was well-dressed, and though there was nothing in his dressing that was in the least degree offensive to good or artistic taste, it was obvious that he studied his appearance, and aimed at ' dressino like a gentleman.' His clothes were fashionably cut and fitted him accurately ; and a heavy dark-green overcoat THE LONDON EXPRESS. 3 trimmed with Astrakan, imparted to him rather a dis tingue air, that was further enhanced by his faultless kid gloves, and the crimson silk handkerchief that was allowed just to slightly display itself from the outside breast-pocket of his overcoat. This gentleman was Mr. Josiah Vecquerary of Man chester.

All his people had for many generations been natives of the busy city on the banks of the Irwell, and Mr. Vecquerary prided himself on the fact. And he seemed to take a special delight in making it known to strangers that he hailed from Cottonopolis. I suppose that all men are more or less proud of their birthplaces. But your Manchester man, above all others, seems proud of his. Nor is this pride unjustified, for Manchester in itself is a city to be proud of, and the average middle class Manchester man is generally an upright, fair-deal ing, thoroughly business-like, shrewd, and open-hearted fellow. Blunt of speech and frank-speaking, he strikes you at once as straightforward and reliable. And if you attempt any double-dealings with him you find that you have caught a tartar, for your true Manchester man hates chicanery.

He is not suspicious as a rule. By instinct and nature he is very hospitable. He is a staunch friend, but can also be a bitter enemy. Most of the traits here indicated were prominent in Mr. Vecquerary's character, and he had troops of friends by whom he was highly esteemed. The Vecquerarys were a very old Manchester family. They had originally come from France, and had then spelt their name V£querie. But that was at such a remote period that it was no more than a dim tradition amongst the descendants, who had taken kindly to the 1—2 soil, and become thoroughly imbued with the dis tinguishing Manchester spirit. Mr. Josiah Vecquerary was the head of the firm of 'Vecquerary and Sons,' Manchester Warehousemen, whose place of business was in Fountain Street — a thoroughfare long associated with that particular class of business known as the ' Manchester trade.' The firm of Vecquerary and Sons was a very old-established one, and had been handed down from father to son through many generations.

Josiah's father had been dead for four years, and Josiah and his younger brother, Alfred, carried on the business. Alfred was single, but Josiah had been married for six years, and was the father of a girl and a boy, the latter being five years of age and the girl three. Mr. Vecquerary's marriage had at first been produc tive of some little friction and unpleasantness in his family, for he had chosen to marry one of his father's warehouse girls. A well-behaved and pretty enough girl, but as the Vecquerarys were not without pride of race they thought this was a mesalliance, and Josiah's father and mother were particularly annoyed. Mr. Vecquerary, senior, went so far as to refuse to recognise his daughter in-law; and though Avhen he came to lie on his death bed he showed some disposition to be reconciled, he died before the reconciliation could be effected.

After that, Josiah's mother took kindly to his wife, especially when the first child was born. But most of the other members of the family still manifested a certain disdain for Mrs. Josiah Vecquerary, as they did not consider she was in any way their equal. There is reason to believe that this to some extent influenced Mr. Vecquerary, whose THE LONDON EXPRESS. 5 relations with his wife had not been altogether of a cordial character. Not that there had been any serious difference between the young couple, but the husband had occasionally given evidence that he did not consider his wife quite on a level with him. This, however, did not affect him appreciably, and life agreed with him. His business was prosperous, everything went smoothly ; he had a perfect digestion, and he loved a good dinner, and knew how to appreciate a choice cigar, and a bottle of old wine.

As we make his acquaintance he is journeying to London on business in connection with his firm. He is in the habit of running up to town once every six weeks on these business matters, and is generally absent four or five days. The gentleman who so far shares the compartment with him is a very striking contrast. He is a little maD, apparently about forty-three. His figure is sparse and shrunken, so that his clothes fit him ill. His face is yellow, with high cheek bones, and he has a very scanty crop of grayish whiskers, and a thin, straggling mous tache. His eyes are small and somewhat deep-set, and their expression is not altogether pleasing. He habitually wears spectacles, which tend to make him look a little older than he is. He is slightly bald on the top of his head, and his hair is thin and gray.

His general appear ance is not altogether calculated to beget the confidence of a stranger, who might in fact experience a sense of shrinking from him, without being able to tell why he did so. The two men have been seated together for several minutes, but with true British reserve neither has yet spoken. The little man at last breaks the ice. ' There seems to be an immense number of passengers to-day.' He speaks in a high-pitched voice— a thin and trebly voice that is harsh and unpleasant; and he rubs and twists his hands one about the other as if he was oiling them. ' Yes, but it's been market-day in Manchester, and there is generally a rush for this train on market-day.' Thus spoke Mr. Vecquerary, and his voice was in no less striking contrast to his companion's than his personal appearance was.

It was a deep, round, mellow voice, with a pleasant Lancashire burr in it ; while on the other hand his companion's had an unmistakable Cockney twang about it. ' Oh, I didn't know it was market-day,' answered the little man, oiling his hands again. ' You Manchester folk are a busy people.' ' Yes, we bear that character,' answered Mr. Vec querary with a pleasant little laugh. ' But it's evident you don't belong to Manchester.' 'Oh dear no. It is my first visit. I am connected with the law, and I came down here two days ago on a little matter of business, but I confess I am rather glad to get away.' ' Why ? ' ' Well, it's a dirty, gloomy sort of city, and the people are very boorish.' ' As regards the city,' answered Mr. Vecquerary quickly and decisively, as though resenting the remark, ' you have seen it under every possible disadvantage, but any city would look gloomy in this filthy November weather.

The people, however, are all right. They may seem THE LONDON EXPRESS. 7 boorish to a stranger, but when you come to know them you'll find out how warm-hearted and hospitable they are.' ' Ah,' exclaimed the little man with a sceptical snigger. At this moment the guard of the train hurriedly unlocked the door, and said apologetically : ' Gentlemen, I am sorry I cannot reserve the compartment for you, as the train is so full.' A porter came up carrying a hand-bag, a railway rug, bundle of umbrellas, and various odds and ends, and having deposited these things on the seat and in the rack, he got out and helped two ladies to get in. That done, the door was slammed to ; the guard locked it ; the shrill blast of the signal whistle resounded through the station ; the engine uttered a shriek, and then the train went out into the fog on its way to London.

Chapter II. The Two Ladies

|HE two ladies who had thus become fellowpassengers with Mr. Vecquerary and the lawyer were both of them singularly pretty women. The elder of the two could not have been more than seven or eight and twenty. She was a pronounced blonde, with a complexion like a ripe peach, and a most bewitching mouth, the lips of which, when parted, revealed teeth of the most perfect evenness and whiteness. Her hair, which lay on her forehead in graceful waves, was of that shade which may best be likened to old gold ; and it was so abundant that it formed a large knob at the back of her well shaped head. She had the soft blue and entrancing eyes that generally accompany such complexions, and her figure was so shapely that not even a hypercritic could have found fault with it. A neat little boot displayed itself from beneath the snowy frill of her petticoat ; and as she removed one glove to take a handkerchief from her satchel and wipe her face, she revealed an exquisitely shaped hand, white as a lily, with perfectly trimmed and kept nails.

Several diamond rings sparkled on her fingers, and she wore a diamond and ruby bracelet on her wrist. THE TWO LADIES. 9 Her companion would not be more than seventeen. She was a brunette, with keen bright eyes, and hair of a very dark shade of brown. There was an arch coquet tishness in her expression which was rather an attraction than otherwise. They were both exceedingly well dressed, and conveyed the impression that they were favourites of fortune. They occupied the corner immediately opposite Mr. Vecquerary, and for some minutes that gentleman somewhat rudely stared at these two pretty women, and wondered what relation they bore to each other. They could not be mother and daughter, because the younger one was too old and the elder one too young for them to be so related. Mr. Vecquerary's speculations wTere soon set at rest, however, by hearing the young girl address her companion as ' Auntie.' The little man, who had been seated on the same side as the ladies, seemed to be no less interested in them than Mr. Vecquerary was, and in a few minutes he changed to the opposite corner so that he might see them better.

Before reaching Stockport there is a pretty long tunnel to be traversed, and as the train dashed into this tunnel the breaks were applied with such suddenness that the passengers were all but jerked off their seats. Then the engine whistled shrilly, and the train came to a stand still. 'Oh dear, I hope nothing is wrong,' exclaimed the elderly lady to her companion, in evident trepidation. This was Mr. Vecquerary's opportunity to speak to them, and he availed himself of it. He hastened in the blandest tones to assure tbein that there was no danger. The train, he said, had stopped because the signals were against it, owing probably to there being another train in the station ahead. In a few moments the train began to move slowly, and in due time passed out of the tunnel all right. This little incident had been an introduction for Mr. Vecquerary, and he made the best of it, and for a long time he chatted pleasantly with the ladies.

He had a very pleasant, genial manner with him, and his conversation was of a kind well calculated to interest the fair sex. In fact, he proved that he knew what most men nowadays do not know — the art of talking to ladies so as at once to engage their attention and interest them. For a considerable time he had the field to himself ; but during that time his unknown male companion sat in his corner in a manner that was somehow suggestive of a tarantula spider, which sits huddled up in its nest, its glittering eyes fully extended on the look-out for prey. At length the unknown— still like a tarantula when it spies prey — darted forward, and opening a neat little hand-bag, he took therefrom a small round basket, in which, cosily nestled in immaculate cotton-wool, were five most tempting-looking peaches.

Extending the basket towards the ladies, he said : ' Permit me to offer you, ladies, a peach.' His high-pitched, squeaky voice was an unpleasant contrast to the full, round tones of the Manchester man, and as he had not hitherto spoken to the ladies, and his movement and manner of making the offer were some what abrupt, his act, kindly meant perhaps, did not make the impression it otherwise might have done. The younger lady gave an uneasy glance at her aunt, who returned it ; but at last said, with a gracious smiie : THE TWO LADIES. 11 ' Oh, thank you, you are very kind, but really we can not deprive you of them.' ' I assure you, madam, you will afford me great pleasure if you will take them,' urged the little man. ' Pray do.' Thus pressed, the ladies each took a peach, and the little man, having got his introduction, followed it up and talked inces santly, although Mr. Vecquerary did not allow himself to be driven from the field, and quite held his own against his rival.

I say ' rival ' advisedly, be cause the little man, it was un mistakably evident, was anxious to make himself as agreeable and ac ceptable to the ladies as Mr. Vecquerary had done. Thus, all the way to London, these four fellow-travel lers chatted and laughed freely. The ladies alone were known to each other ; the men had met for the first time, and they and the ladies were strangers, and yet these four, engaged in a pleasant little social comedy now, were by-and-by to become actors in a grim and tragic drama. As the train steamed into Euston, Mr. Vecquerary ventured to inquire of the ladies if they expected any friends on the platform; and the elder lady answered somewhat hesitatingly, and, as it seemed, almost apolo getically, saying that they did not expect anyone. ' May I have the pleasure, then, of looking after your luggage and procuring you a cab ?' The offer was accepted with a gracious smile of thanks ; and when the train came to a standstill, Mr. Vecquerary sprang out, handing the younger lady out, and the two went off to reclaim the luggage.

That done, they re turned to where they had left the elder lady. They found her already seated in a cab which the little man had got, and he had made himself useful by handing in the small packages, and was still standing talking to his fellow-passenger when the other two came up. As soon as the young lady had taken her seat beside her aunt, Mr. Vacquerary gracefully raised his highly-polished hat, saying : ' You have made the journey up to London so exceed ingly pleasant for me, and I have enjoyed your con versation so much, that I would venture on the liberty of asking to whom I am indebted for so much pleasure ?' The elder lady's face crimsoned a little, and she seemed to hesitate ; but it was only for a moment. Then she opened her satchel, took therefrom a pearl and silver cardcase, and gave him her card.

The next moment he was waving his hat in adieu as the cab drove away, and as soon as it was out of sight he moved a little so as to catch the rays of a gas lamp, and he read on the lady's card this name and address — Mrs. Sabena Neilsen, 28, The Quadrant, Regent's Park. THE TWO LADIES. 13 ' Dear me, what an exceedingly pretty name !' remarked someone in a squeaking little voice at his elbow. The someone was his fellow-passenger. Mr. Vecquer ary thrust the card into his waistcoat-pocket, and seemed annoyed. ' Yes, it is,' he answered grumpily. ' Are you going to be in town long ?' asked the little man. ' No, only for a few days.' ' You stay at an hotel, probably ?' ' Yes ; the Golden Star, Charing Cross. I always stay there when I come up.' ' Strange,' smiled the little man. ' It's a favourite house of mine, for I live in Craven Street, close by ; and I often drop into the Star in the evening for a game of billiards.

As we go in the same direction I'll share a cab with 3tou if you like. There's my card.' Mr. Vacquerary took the card, and found that his com panion was ' Mr. Richard Hipcraft, solicitor.' It was a somewhat curious name, and Mr. Vecquerary could not help thinking somehow that the name was suited to the man. However, although he was not very favourably impressed with Mr. Hipcraft, he consented to share a cab with him ; and having got their luggage, they drove off together.

Chapter III. Hot Blood

OR many hours after Mr. Vecquerary had parted from his lady travelling-companions, his thoughts were occupied with them, or, rather, with one of them ; and perhaps it is needless to say that one was Mrs. Sabena Neilsen. Her charming manner, her sweetly pretty face, her en gaging conversation, had made a very deep impression upon him, and he could not turn his thoughts from her, although he had a wife and two children in Manchester. But mixed up with his thoughts of the lady was the objectionable Mr. Hipcraft ; and irrational, and inconsis tent, and ridiculous as it may seem, Mr. Vecquerary actually felt jealous of the little lawyer. Wherefore jealous ? it may be asked. Ah, you must know a good deal of the foibles and vanities of human nature to understand that. Mr. Vecquerary was not without a certain self-consciousness of his own superiority when compared with Mr. Hipcraft.

That is, he was superior to him physically — in personal appearance, and he believed he was also superior mentally and morally. That, of course, was an assumption of vanity pure and simple ; but does not every man think himself superior to someone else whom he may know ? Mr. Vecquerary had been anxious to monopolize the attention and con versation of the ladies during the time they were journeying up to London ; Mr. Hipcraft had, with a fellow traveller's privilege, intruded himself on the little party, and Mr. Vecquerary was annoyed and jealous accordingly. That was foolish, and also wrong ; but Vecquerary was human. Now what he should have done was this : after having parted from the lady he should have dismissed her from his mind once and for ever. She was apparently a married lady, and he was a married man.

Therefore his thinking of her with feelings akin to admiration was not compatible with the due regard he ought to have for his position and his honour. Not that he had any dis honourable intentions at this time ; but he was labouring under the spell and fascination of the lady's presence, and he had a strong desire to see her again. Many men would, under the circumstances, have resisted that desire; others would not, and perhaps could not, have done so. And in the latter category Mr. Vecquerary must be classed. So he made a resolution, and having dined well, he went to bed after smoking his nocturnal cigar, and slept soundly. The next day Mr. Vecquerary was engaged in business up to four o'clock. Then being free, he returned to his hotel, washed some of the London grime off him, arrayed himself in a spotless shirt, and a brown velveteen coat — an article of attire he had a great partiality for — and looking very handsome, and very gentlemanly, he jumped into a hansom cab, and ordered the driver to take him to 28, The Quadrant, Regent's Park.

Arrived at his destination, he dismissed the cab ; and then, with some small feeling that he was not justified in being there, he went up the steps of the house, and rang the bell. The door was speedily opened by a white-capped and white aproned servant ; and he was informed, in answer to his inquiries, that Mrs. Neilsen was at home ; and being shown into the handsomely-furnished drawing-room, he requested the attendant Phyllis to take his card to the lady. It was fully ten minutes before the lady appeared. If she had looked charming the previous day in the train, she looked doubly so now in an evening dress of delicate blush-rose silk, which admirably suited her complexion. He rose, and stammered forth an apology for his presence there. ' Pray be seated, Mr. Vecquerary,' she said, not without some embarrassment, and yet gracefully. ' I did not think when I parted from you and the other' gentleman yesterday, that I should see you both again so soon.' ' Both of us !' exclaimed Mr. Vecquerary, opening his blue eyes to their fullest possible extent. ' Yes ; Mr. Hipcraft — is not that his name ? — called this morning to restore to us a tiny scent-bottle I left in the railway-carriage.

He honestly confessed that he purposely kept it in order that he might have an excuse for calling upon me.' 'He is a cunning rascal,' returned Mr. Vecquerary, with something very much like a growl, while his brows were knit with a frown. ' Indeed ! Are you personally acquainted with him?' ' Oh no ; pardon me !' and Mr. Vecquerary felt very embarrassed. 'And may I venture to inquire if you have any property of mine to restore, for I am very careless when I travel ?' asked the lady, with a touch of irony, and yet smiling sweetly. Mr. Vecquerary felt foolish now, and he was conscious that Hipcraft had scored a point, and from that moment there arose in his breast a positive hatred for the lawyer. ' No, I — I have not,' he stammered ; ' but I will be no less candid than this Mr. Hipcraft,' he emphasized the name contemptuously. ' I — I wished to see you again,' the lady's colour deepened, ' and,' Vecquerary went on, trying to excuse his conduct to his conscience, ' I thought I might have the pleasure of making your husband's acquaintance.' Mrs. Neilsen's face became scarlet, and her manners betrayed that she was greatly troubled and embarrassed.

She seemed to become suddenly interested in an album on the table, but it was only an excuse to hide her face from him. ' My husband,' she faltered, ' is — is not here. He is abroad.' Then suddenly, and with the obvious intention of changing the subject, she asked : ' Are you going to remain long in town, Mr. Vecquerary ?' ' For a few days only.' Mr. Vecquerary did not altogether feel comfortable. He was conscious of two things — firstly, that he had no right to be there ; secondly, that the beautiful woman before him had some mystery in connection with her life. He could not, on his slight acquaintance, venture to question her, and yet he felt he would give a great deal to know her story. She proved herself a diplomatist, however, for she talked delightfully about the theatres, concerts, music, etc, giving him no chance to do more than to get in a monosyllabic response now and again to what she said.

And at last she rang the bell, and told the servant to ask Miss Muriel to come there. '^Muriel is my niece— the young lady you saw yesterday.' This to Mr. Vecquerary. ' She lives with you, then V ' Yes, she is my constant companion, and is a very charming and dear girl.' Mr. Vecquerary was about to give expression to some complimentary remark, when the door opened, and Muriel entered the room. She looked a picture of girlish sweetness and grace. She wore a cream-coloured dress trimmed with red, and a dark red rose was in her hair. ' This is my niece, Miss Muriel Woolsey,' said Mrs. Neilsen. Muriel seemed surprised at Mr. Vecquerary's presence, but she shook his hand and smiled upon him. Then she sank down in an attitude of perfect grace on an ottoman at her aunt's feet, and rested her white hands on her aunt's knees.

The two women were a study of grace and beauty, and Mr. Vecquerary was so carried away by his feelings that he paid them the most extravagant compliments. And then, having remained to the utmost limit of time that etiquette permitted, he reluctantly took his leave, having first asked for and obtained an apparently unwilling consent to call again. Mr. Vecquerary drove straight back to his hotel, for he had invited two friends to dine with him. Usually a very lively and entertaining companion, he was so absorbed and absent-minded on this occasion as to call forth a mild protest from his companions. He pleaded some worrying business matter as an excuse, and at last livened up under the effects of the champagne. After dinner the three gentlemen adjourned to the billiard room to smoke and take their coffee and liqueur. ' Ah, good-evening, Mr. Vecquerary,' exclaimed a squeaky little voice, as the three entered.