An Artist in Crime Part 26

"Are you giving me this straight?"

"I am telling you the truth. The woman is dead, and that amount of property is where I can get it for the man who can prove that he is ent.i.tled to it."

"And who would that be?" He waited eagerly for the reply, and Mr. Barnes saw that he was playing trump cards.

"Why, Mr. Mitchel, that is what I am down here for. You see, I thought the party would be willing to pay me a good commission for proving him the heir, and that is why I am hunting him up. I started out with the idea that I might find her husband. He would have a claim."

"I see." Saying which, he sat down and seemed lost in thought. The detective deemed it well to wait for him to speak again, which he did.

"See here," he exclaimed; "how much do you want for getting this money for me?"

"I cannot get it at all unless you are the woman's husband," replied the detective.

"Well I am her husband. Didn't I tell you I lived with her till she broke me?"

"Yes, but are you legally married to her?"

"Why, to be sure. Don't I tell you I am her husband?"

"Then, in the name of the law, I arrest you," said Mr. Barnes, suddenly rising and standing over the man.

"Arrest me," said the fellow, jumping up, pale with fright. "What for?"

"Rose Mitchel has been murdered, and the man who killed her has confessed that he was hired to do it by you."

"He is a blasted liar."

"I hope so for your sake. But as you admit that you are her husband, you are the man we are looking for. I'll have to take you to New York."

"But, I say," said the fellow, now thoroughly alarmed, "there is a big mistake here. I've been lying to you; I'm not the woman's husband, and my name is not Mitchel."

"That won't do, my man. I had you pointed out to me by Sefton, the detective here."

"But he is the very man that hired me to pa.s.s off as Mitchel to you."

Mr. Barnes chuckled as he found his ruse successful. He had suspected all along that the New Orleans detective was trying to lead him off on a wrong scent, and now thought he saw a chance to turn the tables upon him and get some valuable information.

"That is a very thin story," said he, "but if you will tell me all you know, perhaps I may believe you."

"You bet I'll give you the whole story straight, to get out of this sc.r.a.pe. In the first place, my name is Arthur Chambers. I was up in the world once, had money, and was respectable. But drink changed all that.

Now anybody can buy me for a few dollars, and that is what Sefton did.

He came to me about a week ago, and told me that a detective was down here from up north nosing around for this Mitchel. He said it was important to an employer of his up in New York to have this detective balked; that he was hired to do it, and to make him lose time; that time, in some way, was an important item."

"You say," interrupted Mr. Barnes, "that Sefton told you he was hired by some one in New York to throw me off the scent?"

"That's what he said," replied Chambers. Mr. Barnes easily guessed who was employing Sefton, and once more he paid the tribute of admiration for the caution and ingenious scheming of Mr. Mitchel.

"Go on," said the detective.

"There an't much more to tell. Sefton hired me to play off that I was Mitchel, and he gave me a c.o.c.k-and-bull yarn to feed you with about a woman named Rose Mitchel."

"What was that story?"

"Say, look here," said Chambers, his confidence and cunning returning as he felt himself out of danger of arrest, "you don't want that fairy tale. You would rather have the true story, wouldn't you?"

"Certainly."

"Well, I'm an old-timer, I am. There an't much that's happened in the Crescent that I couldn't remember, if I was paid for it."

"See here, my man, you are not dealing with Sefton now. You tell me what I want to know, and if I find it is true, I'll pay you for it. But if you play any tricks, I'll make it warm for you."

"That's all right. Suppose I begin by telling you that this Rose Mitchel, that you say was murdered, was known down here chiefly as Rose Montalbon. 'La Montalbon,' she was generally called."

"La Montalbon?" repeated Mr. Barnes. "Then, was she an actress?"

"Actress? Well, I guess she was, considerable. But not on the stage. No, she kept a gambling-den on Royal Street. Fitted up like a palace too, and many a young fool has lost his last dime in that house."

"But what about Mitchel? Do you know whether he was connected with her in any way?"

"I can't give you that dead straight. There was some mystery there. I used to go to the Royal Street place, and I knew Mitchel in a sort of way. He was always hanging around there. Then there was a while that he didn't show up, and then he turned up again and was introduced as La Montalbon's husband. There was a story going that he had married another girl and deserted her. A young Creole I think, though I never heard her name."

"Did you know anything about a child, a girl?"

"That was another queer part of it. There was a girl, little Rosy. Some said it was the Creole's, but La Montalbon always claimed it was hers."

"What became of Mitchel?"

"About a year after he pa.s.sed as La Montalbon's husband he skipped out--vanished. Several years after that there was another sensation. The child was kidnapped. La Montalbon offered big rewards to recover her, but she never did. Then about three years ago her place began to run down; she lost money, and finally she too disappeared."

"If this story is true it may be quite important. Do you think you could identify this man Mitchel?"

"Well, I don't know for certain. But see here, come to think of it, there were two Mitchels, and both named Leroy too."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Pretty sure. They were cousins. The other fellow was younger. I didn't know him myself. He was a Young-Men's-Christian-a.s.sociation sort of a boy, and not quite in my line. But I sort of remember hearing that he was in love with the Creole girl. But say, I'll tell you who can give it to you straight as a s.h.i.+ngle."

"Ah, who is that?"

"An old man named Neuilly. He knew all about the Creole, and so must know about the Mitchels. I think he was in La Montalbon's power. She knew something about him and blackmailed him, as she did lots of others.

Now that she is dead, you might make him open his mouth."

"Very good. Get me his address, and then see what you can find out about the other Leroy Mitchel, the good boy. Discover what became of him and I'll pay you well. Meanwhile don't let Sefton know that you are not carrying out his scheme."

"Say, pard, I tumble to you now. You suspected Sefton and you played your cards to draw me out. Well, you did it neat, and now I'm with you.

Good-day. When I see you again I'll have some news for you."

The following day Mr. Barnes called at the bachelor home of Mr.

Neuilly. The handsome old man received him in stately fas.h.i.+on and courteously asked the detective to explain his mission.