The Crime of the French Cafe and Other Stories Part 12

"I am a victim of circ.u.mstances. I had nothing to do with the murder in the restaurant, nor with any attempt upon your life. You are doing me a grave injustice. If you were not as blind as a bat you would see who the real criminals are."

These words were p.r.o.nounced in a calm and steady tone, and it cannot be denied that they produced a great effect upon Nick.

"If it should prove that I have wronged you," he said, "I will repay you for the injury to the limit of your demand."

And the detective did a lot of hard thinking while he was walking toward Gaspard's lodgings, where he expected to meet Patsy.

Certainly if Jones ever succeeded in establis.h.i.+ng his innocence he would have won a friend in Nick Carter, whose good will is worth a fortune to any man.

Nick found Patsy outside the house where Gaspard lodged.

"I'm dead onto this fellow," said the youth. "He's just about ready to flit. He's bought lots of stuff to-day, and is flush with money.

"A man just went in there with a suit of clothes. Two delivery wagons from dry goods stores have been here. I suppose that the stuff they brought belongs to the woman who is going with Gaspard."

"Have you seen her?"

"No; she has kept mighty dark."

"h.e.l.lo! what's this?"

Nick drew Patsy more closely into the shadow of the steps by which they were standing.

A carriage rumbled over the pavement and stopped before the door of Gaspard's lodging-house.

"Upon my word," said Nick, "it's my old friend Harrigan on the box. The way people keep bobbing up in this case is something wonderful."

"Perhaps the woman's in the cab," whispered Patsy.

On the contrary, the cab was empty.

Harrigan got off the box and rang the bell.

Nick heard him ask for Gaspard Lebeau. Gaspard was summoned.

"I've two trunks for you," said Harrigan.

"For me?" asked Gaspard.

"Yes; a young woman hired me to bring them, and she said it would be all right. You'd pay the price."

"What sort of a woman?"

"A very gallus French siren with a big white hat and a black plume as long as the tail of me horse."

"All right," said Gaspard, promptly; "bring in the trunks."

They were carried up the stairs to Gaspard's room.

Harrigan mounted the box and drove away.

"Follow him," said Nick. "Bring him back here in about half an hour."

Patsy darted away in pursuit of the cab.

Nick walked up to the door of Gaspard's house and rang the bell.

He was directed to the Frenchman's room.

Gaspard was examining the two trunks. He looked very much embarra.s.sed at the sight of Nick.

"What's all this, Gaspard?" asked the detective. "I hear you're going back to France."

"I? Oh, no. New York suits me much better."

"But what are these trunks doing here?"

Gaspard looked particularly foolish.

"They are the property of a friend--a lady. To tell the truth, I hope to marry her. A charming girl, monsieur; and innocent as a dove."

"Why does she send her trunks here?"

"Ah, that I do not know. It was not agreed upon."

"Have you any idea what is in them?"

"Her wardrobe. Ah, she is extravagant. She buys many dresses. But then, what would you have? When one is young and beautiful--"

Gaspard finished his sentence with a sweep of the arms.

"They are heavy," said Nick, lifting one of the trunks and setting it crosswise on a lounge.

He took a bunch of keys from his pocket. Gaspard seemed aghast.

"You would not open it?" he cried.

"Perhaps it won't be necessary," said Nick. "This may answer."

He drew a knife from his pocket and opened one of the blades, which was sharpened like a very large nut-pick.

With a sudden movement, he struck this into the bottom of the trunk, and then withdrew it.

A dark red stream followed the blade when it was withdrawn. The end of the trunk projected over the side of the couch, and the red fluid dripped upon the carpet.

"My G.o.d!" exclaimed Gaspard. "It is blood!"

"So it would seem," said Nick, quietly.