An Artist in Crime Part 34

"One of my hobbies," continued Mr. Mitchel, "as you all know, is the collection of jewels. A few years ago I heard that a magnificent set was offered for sale. A rich East Indian n.o.bleman, so the story goes, had procured the gems as a present to his wife. They were of the choicest quality, and of each exactly two, matched precisely in size, cutting, and coloration. In time he had two daughters, twins, the mother dying at their birth. Eventually these girls grew up and were married, the ceremony being a double wedding. The father took the set of jewels and divided them, giving to each girl, one of each. This greatly diminished their value, for the matching of gems adds to their price.

Reverses of fortune tempted one of these women to offer her jewels for sale. They were taken to a Paris dealer, who chanced to be a man through whom I had made many purchases. He undertook not only to dispose of the gems, but to reproduce them with a high order of imitation, so that the woman retained the original settings and continued to wear what her friends supposed to be the genuine gems. I bought the unset stones.

Subsequently her sister, learning the secret, and seeing that there was a way by which the jewelry could be retained, whilst the jewels themselves could be turned into money, engaged the same dealer to serve her in a similar way. Of course, I was doubly anxious to obtain this second lot, for by doing so I enhanced the values of those which I had already. I therefore bought them also."

He paused a moment, to allow the company to recover from the surprise at learning that the stolen jewels were his.

"This lot was sent to me through the Boston custom-house. I instructed the dealer to do this, because I had found that goods can be received with less delay in Boston than in New York. Being notified by my broker there that they were ready for delivery, I went to Boston and obtained them. I placed the wallet in a peculiar satchel which had been made to order for me, and carried it to my room at the Hotel Vendome. Later in the day, I met Mr. Randolph, and went with him to a theatre. He was to return to New York by the midnight express, and I went with him to the depot. As we stood awaiting our turn to purchase tickets, you may imagine my utter astonishment to see a woman pa.s.s and board the train, having my satchel in her hand. There could be no mistake whatever, because the satchel was peculiar, both in shape and color. Of course I saw at once I had been robbed. It was useless to go back to my hotel, for that would be time wasted. If by any miracle there were two such satchels, mine was safe in the hotel. I therefore astonished Mr.

Randolph by offering to accompany him, and I did so, occupying the same section with him. Whilst I was thinking what action I should pursue, knowing that once the train started my thief would be safe as far as New Haven, Mr. Randolph began to praise Mr. Barnes, and like a flash it came to me that this was my chance. I would rob the thief of my own property.

Thus if caught I could not be imprisoned, whilst if not I would not only win my wager, but I would have the excitement and the satisfaction for which I had wished. One thing threatened to upset my plans. Mr. Barnes by an odd chance came aboard the same coach, was given the section next to ours, and overheard our conversation. This of course I could not have counted upon."

"You did take it into your account though," interrupted Mr. Barnes.

"You mean that I refused to tell Mr. Randolph what I meant to do, saying that I might be overheard, and that I might even be talking for the benefit of a listening detective? True, but I had no idea that this was so. It was merely extreme precaution, and only shows that we can never be too cautious in an endeavor to keep a secret. Later, however, I heard you get up, and peeping through the curtains, I saw you sitting up, or rather lying in a berth opposite, with the curtains drawn. I at once supposed that you must be a detective. My companion was soon asleep, but with a hundred thousand dollars worth of jewels in the balance, I could not sleep. I was busy wondering what I should do. I think though that I must have dozed, for I know that I was startled to discover suddenly that we were not moving. I looked out of our section window--fortunately I was next to it--and found that we had run into the depot at New Haven.

Like a flash it came to me that the thief might leave the train here. I was about to get up, when to my astonishment I noticed a man sneaking along by the side of the train. I was on the side opposite to that from which the pa.s.sengers would alight, and the suspicious actions of the man forced me to watch him. He pa.s.sed so close to me that I could have touched him had my window been open, and as he did so the light of an electric lamp disclosed the fact that he had my satchel. The thief had been robbed already. The man approached a coal-bin, and stooping, shoved the satchel behind it. Then he returned to the train and came aboard. I said to myself 'That fellow is an artist. He will remain on board till the robbery is discovered, if necessary, and even allow himself to be searched. Then he will quietly come back and get the satchel and jewels.' Thus it was my cue to act quickly. But if I left the train I knew that the detective would see me. I therefore gently raised the sash, and deftly let myself to the ground out of the window. I quickly took the satchel, ran to the end of the depot, and found a place where I could shove it far under the platform. Then I climbed back into the berth, and after that I a.s.sure you I slept very well."

The company applauded this description of how the robbery had been committed, and Mr. Mitchel bowed.

"Wait, my friends, we are not through yet. The woman who had robbed me had the supreme audacity to report her loss, or perhaps we should say, that she was so angry that she became desperate. I have reason to believe that she had an accomplice in this man, and that suspecting him of robbing her, she would have been willing to give testimony against him if caught, and trust to escape herself, by turning State's evidence.

When we were running in to New York, Mr. Barnes directed that all should be searched. I enjoyed that, I a.s.sure you. It seemed so amusing to look in New York for what I knew was in New Haven. At the same time I was anxious to get back to New Haven as quickly as possible. With that end in view I invited Mr. Barnes to breakfast with me. I tried to make it appear that I was anxious to have him agree to be the only detective on my track, but in reality I wished to discover whether he would be able at once to place a spy at my heels; that is, whether he had a man at the Grand Central already. This I found was the case. I therefore was obliged to go to my hotel as though having no desire to leave town again. Then, subsequently, I eluded this man by the convenient bridges across the Elevated railroad. I went to New Haven, found the satchel, and then deposited it at a hotel nearby for safe keeping. My object in this was plain. I knew that the robbery would get into the newspapers, and that by behaving suspiciously at the hotel,--of course I was disguised,--attention would be attracted there. This did happen, and the result was that the jewels were given into the custody of the police authorities, the very safest place for them, so far as I was concerned.

Gentlemen, that is the story of the crime which I committed. I have only to show my receipt from the Boston custom-house, and my bill-of-sale from the Paris dealer to be able to recover my property. Are you satisfied, Mr. Randolph?"

"Entirely. You have won fairly, and I have a check for the amount with me, which you must accept with my congratulations upon your success."

"I thank you very much," said Mr. Mitchel, taking the check; "I take this because I have immediate use for it, as you will learn directly.

Now I must tell you the true story of the other robbery."

At this all were very much astonished. Mr. Thauret appeared a trifle nervous. He placed one hand over the top of his claret gla.s.s, and let it rest there a moment, after first having taken a sip from it.

"You all recall the fact that I was sick in Philadelphia," continued Mr.

Mitchel, "at the time of the Ali Baba festival. I flatter myself that that was the most artistic thing that I have done throughout this whole affair. Any one seeing me would have been satisfied that I was truly ill, yet, in point of fact, my cough was brought on by drugs administered to me by my physician at my express desire, and for purposes which I had explained to him. I guessed that I had been followed to Philadelphia, and took care that I should not be too closely watched, as Mr. Barnes knows. Yet I expected that after the affair, Mr.

Barnes himself would come to Philadelphia to see me, and my artificially-produced illness was to baffle him. But I am antic.i.p.ating events. After the train robbery the woman was murdered. By what seemed an odd chance she was in the same house where my wife then lived. I knew that I had been followed from the theatre to that house on the night of the murder. I knew that other circ.u.mstances pointed strongly to my guilt. But I had the advantage over the detective, for I knew that the man who had stolen the jewels from the woman, not finding them when he returned to New Haven, must have been furious. Judging the woman by himself, he would suppose that at least it was possible that she had taken them from the satchel herself. Then on that slim chance might he not have returned to the woman, and, admitting the theft of the satchel, have endeavored to make her confess that she still had the jewels?

Failing in this, might he not either in a fit of anger or to prevent her from 'peaching,' as they call it, have cut her throat?"

"You are wrong there, Mr. Mitchel," said the detective. "The woman was killed whilst she slept. There was no struggle."

"Even so, we can imagine the sneak going into the house and killing her that he might search for the gems undisturbed, and also to rid himself of a companion for whom he no longer had any need. At least, that was the view that I took of it, and, more than that, I felt convinced that I knew the man."

At this moment, Mr. Thauret nervously reached forth his hand towards his gla.s.s of wine, but before he could get it Mr. Barnes had taken it up and drained it to the bottom. Mr. Thauret seemed livid with wrath, and a dramatic incident occurred, un.o.bserved by the rest of the company. Mr.

Thauret turned towards Mr. Barnes and seemed on the point of making a demonstration, when that gentleman just tipped back his chair slightly, and meaningly exposed to the view of his neighbor the gleaming barrel of a revolver, which he held in his hand below the table. This only occupied a moment, and immediately afterwards both men seemed, like the others, simply interested listeners to the narrative.

"When I say that I thought that I knew the man," continued Mr. Mitchel, "I make a statement which it may interest you to have me explain. In the first place, I saw the fellow who hid the satchel at the New Haven depot. Still I obtained but a momentary glimpse of his face, and would not have been sure of identifying him. I will call your attention now to the fact that very slight incidents sometimes lead the mind into a suspicion, which, followed up, may elucidate a mystery. Prior to the train robbery I had met a man at my club one night, or rather I had seen him playing a card game, and I conceived the notion that the fellow was cheating. Within a few days of the robbery I met this man again, on which occasion Mr. Barnes was present, and an interesting conversation occurred. I was standing aside, pretending to be otherwise engaged, but really puzzling over the face of this man, which now seemed to me strikingly familiar. Of course I had seen him at the club, yet despite me, there was an intuitive feeling that I had seen him elsewhere also.

In a moment I heard him admit that he had been aboard of the train on the night of the robbery, and that he had been the first one searched.

Awhile later he offered to wager Mr. Barnes that various theories which had been advanced as to the thief's method of secreting the jewels, were all erroneous. This one remark satisfied me that the thief stood before me. I had not then heard of the murder. Now it must be remembered that I was ensnared in the meshes of circ.u.mstantial evidence myself, so that, besides any duty that I might owe to society, it became of vital importance to my own safety that I should be in a position to prove this man guilty. I formed a rather bold plan. I made a friend of the fellow.

I invited him to my room one night, and then accused him of having cheated at the card game. He at first a.s.sumed a threatening att.i.tude, but I retained my composure, and perhaps startled him by proposing to form a partners.h.i.+p by which we could fleece the rich club men. I hinted to him that I really possessed less money than I am credited with, and that what I did have I had taken at the tables on the Continent. He then admitted that he had a 'system,' and from that time we posed as good friends, though I do not think he ever fully trusted me. I learned from him that his partner in the game where I caught him cheating was entirely innocent, and made him promise not to play with him again, for I had discovered that the detectives had been told of this game, and therefore knew that they would be watching both men when playing cards.

I preferred to be the partner myself upon such occasions. Having somewhat won the fellow's confidence, I was ready for my great scheme in baffling the detective so that I might win my wager, and at the same time entrap my suspect. I had conceived the Ali Baba festival. I showed Mr. Barnes one day the ruby which I afterwards presented to my wife. At the same time I told him, that if he should come to the conclusion that I was innocent of the train robbery, he might as well remember that I would still have to commit the crime as agreed upon. Then I arranged that the festival should occur on New Year's night, the very day on which my month would expire. I knew that all this would lead the detective to believe that I meant to rob my _fiancee_, a crime for which I might readily have escaped punishment, with her a.s.sistance. There he misjudged me. I would not for treble the sum have had her name mixed up in such a transaction. She knew absolutely nothing of my intentions, though being at that time in ignorance of the details of the train robbery, I left her mind in a condition not to offer resistance to the thief, who she might suppose to be myself. Then, after laying my trap, at the last moment, I baited it by asking my _fiancee_ to wear the ruby pin in her hair. I went to Philadelphia, and feigned sickness. Then I eluded the spy and came on myself. Mr. Barnes I supposed would be present, and I had arranged so that if so, he would necessarily be in one of the dominos of the forty thieves. I had invited my suspect to a.s.sume the role of Ali Baba, but he shrewdly persuaded some one else to take the costume, himself donning one of the Forty Thieves' dresses.

This compelled me to go around speaking to every one so disguised, and to my satisfaction, by their voices, I discovered my man and also Mr.

Barnes. In the final tableau, Mr. Barnes, who evidently was watching Ali Baba, attempted to get near him, and by chance was immediately behind my man. Fearing that he would interfere with my plans, I fell in just behind him. My design was to tempt the fellow to steal the ruby, which, if he did, would satisfy at least myself that my suspicions were correct. It was, perhaps, a mad scheme, but it succeeded. I had so arranged that every one should pa.s.s the Sultan and make obeisance. In doing this, as my _fiancee_ was seated on the floor, the ruby in her hair would be just at hand, and one who knew its high value could easily take it. I fully expected my man to do this, and I saw him gently withdraw it. Immediately Mr. Barnes stepped forward to seize him, but I held the detective from behind, then threw him into the advancing crowd, and, in the confusion, escaped from the house."

Mr. Mitchel paused, and silence prevailed. All felt, rather than knew, that a tragedy might be at hand. Mr. Thauret however, in a moment said:

"Are you not going to tell us the name of this sneak thief?"

"No," quickly responded Mr. Mitchel. "But you are wrong to call my suspect a sneak thief. If crime were a recognized business, as gambling in Wall Street is now considered, this man would be counted 'a bold operator.' I confess that I admire him for his courage. But it would scarcely do for me to mention his name, when I am not in the position to prove that he is the guilty man."

"I thought you said that you saw him steal the ruby?" said Mr. Thauret.

"I did, but as I myself had been suspected of that, my unsupported word would be inadequate. Let me tell you what I have done in the matter since. The most important step for me, perhaps, was to prevent the sale of the gem. This was not difficult, as it is known the world over. I warned all dealers, and let my man know that I had done so. Next, I wished to delay a _denouement_ until to-night, the time when my wager with Mr. Randolph would be settled. I soon discovered that my suspect would not be averse to a marriage with a rich American girl. He questioned me adroitly as to the fortune which would come to my little sister-in-law, and I replied in such a way that I knew he would bend his energies in that direction. Then I did that, which, perhaps, I should not have done, but I felt myself master of the situation and able to control events. I made a wager with Dora that she would not remain unengaged until to-night, and I stipulated that should she have offers she should neither accept nor reject a suitor. I also told her, though I declined to fully explain how, that she would materially a.s.sist me in winning my wager."

This explains what Dora meant when she asked Mr. Randolph if money would count with him against her love. When she accepted the wager with Mr.

Mitchel she had been feeling resentfully towards Mr. Randolph, who, as long as he suspected his friend of the graver crimes, hesitated to become connected with him by marriage. This made him less attentive to Dora, so that she had not thought of him as a suitor when making the bet. When he declared himself she recognized her predicament and was correspondingly troubled, yet determined to win, and so acted as related.

By this time, though Mr. Mitchel had not mentioned the name of the criminal, several present knew to whom he was alluding. Mr. Randolph said impetuously:

"Then that explains----" here he stopped, confused.

"Yes," said Mr. Mitchel, smiling, "that explains everything that has perplexed you. Be reconciled for the time you have been made to wait, for you will now not only win the lady, but you will recover this check, for I must pa.s.s it over to her as a forfeit. Gentlemen, shall we drink to the health and success of Mr. Randolph?"

This was done in silence. The guests felt a constraint. They knew that more was yet to come and anxiously waited for it.

Mr. Mitchel continued: "Gentlemen, that ends my story, except that I engaged Mr. Barnes to take up the threads of evidence which I gave him, and to disentangle them if he could. Shall we hear his report?"

CHAPTER XVIII.

MR. BARNES'S NARRATIVE.

"Gentlemen," began Mr. Barnes, rising, "I am only an ordinary man, following a profession at which some are disposed to sneer, but which to me seems but the plain duty of one who is endowed with the peculiar qualities that are essential to the calling. Our host would make a magnificent detective, but I suppose he feels that he has a higher duty to perform. Begging you then to forgive my manner of addressing you, being by no means a speaker, I will tell you the little that I have done, prefacing my remarks by saying that without the valuable a.s.sistance of Mr. Mitchel I should have been powerless.

"There was a curious b.u.t.ton which I found in the room where the murder was committed, and which matched a set owned by Mr. Mitchel so closely, that it seemed to me to point to him as one who had a guilty knowledge.

I spent much time following the clues that turned up in that connection, all of which however was not entirely misspent, for I discovered the true name of the dead woman to be Rose Montalbon, and that aided me greatly in my later work. At last, then, I abandoned the idea that Mr.

Mitchel was guilty and frankly admitted this. He then told me the name of the jewelry firm from which the b.u.t.tons had been ordered, and I went across the Atlantic.

"The b.u.t.ton which I had was imperfect. This was my starting-point.

Through letters of introduction which Mr. Mitchel gave me, I succeeded in obtaining the a.s.sistance of the jewellers. They gave me the name of the man who had carved the cameos for them, but they knew nothing of the imperfect b.u.t.ton. They had also lost track of the cameo-cutter. It took me over a month to trace that man, even with the aid of the Paris police. Finally I found him, and he told me that he had sold the b.u.t.ton to a friend. This friend I found after some delay, and he admitted that he had once had the b.u.t.ton, but that he had given it to a woman. More time was lost in discovering this woman, but when I did she too recognized the b.u.t.ton and said that it had been stolen from her by another woman, whom she described as a Creole. Thus at last I got on the track of the Montalbon, for that was the name which she used in France.

Under this name it was easier to follow her. I soon learned that she had a companion, by the name of Jean Molitaire. I then easily found that Molitaire had been in the employ of the Paris jewellers as s.h.i.+pping-clerk. It was he who had written the two descriptions of the jewels, one of which I found among the woman's effects, and the other in Mr. Mitchel's possession. This was a suspicious circ.u.mstance, but we know now how it was that the handwriting matched, a fact which had puzzled me greatly. It seems that Mr. Mitchel at one time had bought some valuable papers from the Montalbon woman, paying her with diamonds, and recommending her to his Paris jewellers to dispose of them."

"That," said Mr. Mitchel, "was partly to get her out of this country, and partly to recover the diamonds, which I did, through the dealer."

"So he told me. It was when she received the money from them that she noticed Molitaire. It was not long after that the second set of jewels were sold to Mr. Mitchel. This clerk of course knew of the transaction, because he packed them for s.h.i.+pment. Then he must have persuaded the woman to accompany him across the Atlantic, with the design of stealing the gems from Mr. Mitchel, as soon as he should take them from the custom-house. This is seen from the fact that three days after the s.h.i.+pment this man resigned his position, and from that time all trace of both the man and the woman in Paris is lost."

"From which you deduce that they followed the jewels?" said Mr. Mitchel.

"Of course. The man and woman separated here to avoid suspicion. By a trick the woman obtained possession of apartments in the very house where your intended lived, whilst Molitaire stopped at the Hoffman, which of course is very near your own hotel. As soon as you went to Boston they followed and registered at the same hotel. You obtained the jewels from the custom-house, and they entered your room and robbed you during your absence. Your theory of the murderer's actions after the jewels were recovered by you, is probably correct. He went back to hunt for them, hoping that she had not placed them in the satchel, or rather that she had taken them out of it, since you yourself placed them there.

I think there is no point left unexplained."

"Pardon me," said Mr. Thauret, "I think you are wrong. You have not to my mind quite connected this man--what did you call him? Jean Molitaire, was it not? Well, I do not see that you have traced his hand to the crime."