An Artist in Crime Part 33

"But in the second place," said the detective, "there was a distinct difference between the b.u.t.tons, and by that you were even more a.s.sured.

Am I not right?"

"Mr. Barnes, you deserve to succeed, and I hope you will. I will aid you all that I can. You are right. There is a difference in the b.u.t.tons.

Have you yours with you?"

"Yes, here it is;" saying which, he took it from his pocket-book.

"Keep it a moment. When Miss Remsen ordered these b.u.t.tons, she directed that a tiny initial should be adroitly carved in the hair of each of the Romeo and Juliet b.u.t.tons. In the former she ordered an "R." She calls me Roy. And in the others a "Q." I call her Queen. This would escape ordinary observation, but after seeing it with a lens, one may readily find it with the naked eye afterwards. Now take this lens and examine your b.u.t.ton, just at the base of the hair, near the neck. So! What do you find?"

"By heavens," exclaimed the detective, "This is most important. This is a Juliet, and if one of your set, it should have a "Q," on it. I believe that there was an attempt to make that letter, but the tool must have slipped, and so it is a poor result, a chip in fact, which mars the continuity of the letter. I doubt if with the eye alone as you looked at it that day, when I first showed it to you, that you saw any letter at all."

"You are correct. I simply looked for the "Q," and not finding it, was satisfied."

"This is serious. This b.u.t.ton evidently was made by the same hand that made yours. It was spoiled, and another cut to replace it. The man who carved it, or the person who became possessed of it, must and shall explain to me how it came into the room where the murder was done. You must tell me now where these b.u.t.tons were bought."

"I will do so upon one condition."

"Name it."

"That whatever you discover, you will tell me before you act, and that you will not act before January 1st unless absolutely necessary."

"You mean as to making an arrest?"

"That is precisely what I mean. You need not fear to make the promise. I will guarantee that your man shall not escape. I know him."

"You know him?" Mr. Barnes was astonished that Mr. Mitchel should make such an admission.

"Yes, I know him. That is, I am morally certain that I know him. I will tell you at once, that having the knowledge that I myself was innocent, I have had an advantage over you, and I have been hunting down this man all these months. I have good circ.u.mstantial evidence against him, but not enough to warrant an arrest; at least not yet. If you could follow this clue, and find that it leads to the same man, we could convict him."

"Will you give me the name of the man whom you suspect?"

"No! That would materially weaken our case. We must get the same result without collusion. No, you work alone and work quickly, for I particularly wish the case to be completed by January 1st."

"Why so?"

"It is the day upon which my wager is to be decided, and I shall give a dinner party, at which I antic.i.p.ate some fun. By the way, don't forget that you won a dinner from me on a wager. Accept an invitation to dine with me January 1st, and if you can then convict our man, you shall be most welcome."

"I shall bend every energy to that end. But now tell me the name of the jeweller from whom the b.u.t.tons were procured."

Mr. Mitchel then wrote down the name of a Paris firm, also giving their address. Handing the slip of paper to Mr. Barnes, he took another sheet and continued writing.

"Why, Mr. Mitchel," exclaimed Mr. Barnes, "This is the same firm from whom your jewels were bought; those I mean, which are similar to the stolen set. I have already communicated with these people, and they sent me word that they knew nothing."

"Yes, I know. That was by my instruction," saying which Mr. Mitchel smiled, and Mr. Barnes once more discovered that he had been fighting against a man who thought of everything. "You see," continued Mr.

Mitchel, "I knew that you saw the name of the jewellers on the bill of sale. What more probable than that you should apply there for information? Now, my one object throughout has been, not to defeat justice, but to have time enough elapse for me to win my wager.

Therefore, I immediately sent a cable to these persons, 'Answer nothing signed Barnes till you hear from me.' Rather a long cable despatch, but then I don't mind a few dollars. Of course, my letter to them made them shut their mouths to you. It was very simple. However, I myself have not been able to get satisfactory facts from them, and I think it needs a person actually on the ground to ferret out this thing. I believe you are just the man for the case. This letter will give you their a.s.sistance, and here is a check for five hundred dollars for expenses."

Mr. Barnes would have refused, but Mr. Mitchel insisted, that from that time on, Mr. Barnes should consider himself regularly employed on the murder case, "though, of course," said Mr. Mitchel, jocularly, "you are still free to work out the robberies."

The two men shook hands at parting, and one would have said that they were separating after a mutually satisfactory interview.

CHAPTER XVII.

A NEW YEAR'S DINNER PARTY.

The 1st of January arrived, and Mr. Mitchel had heard nothing from Mr.

Barnes. Inquiry at his office was met by the simple statement, that "The chief is out of town." When he would be back, or where a communication would reach him, could not be learned. A few days before, however, a formal engraved invitation to the dinner party had been mailed to his home address. Mr. Mitchel was annoyed at not having any notification of whether or not the detective would be present. However, he was compelled to go ahead, and depend upon the slight chance that at the last moment he would appear upon the scene. He hoped that this would occur, as otherwise, his scheme for the evening would be incomplete.

The dinner was to be served at ten o'clock that night at Delmonico's, where a private room had been engaged. It lacked ten minutes of the hour for sitting down, and all the guests had arrived, except Mr. Barnes.

These were: Mr. Van Rawlston, Mr. Randolph, Mr. Fisher, Mr. Neuilly, who had decided to spend the winter in New York, Mr. Thauret, and several other gentlemen.

It lacked barely half a minute of ten when Mr. Barnes was announced, and entered in handsome evening dress. Mr. Mitchel's face wore a look of triumph as he saw him, and he hurried forward to receive him. Every one present understood why the detective was invited, for it was by this time well known that a wager was to be decided at twelve o'clock. After the exchange of greetings, Mr. Mitchel gave the waiters the order to open the doors of the dining-room, and in the moment's interval managed to get a word with the detective.

"Tell me quickly, have you succeeded?"

"Yes, thoroughly."

"Good! Write the man's name on a card, and I will give you one upon which I have written the name of my man."

Mr. Barnes did so. Then they exchanged cards, glanced at them, and grasped each other's hands significantly. The cards bore the same name.

With the others they went into the dining-room. Mr. Thauret found himself seated next to Mr. Barnes, whilst on the other side of the detective sat Mr. Fisher.

It need scarcely be said that the dinner was enjoyable and enjoyed, though it must be admitted that all awaited anxiously the hour of twelve. It will be as well perhaps, therefore, to come immediately to the _denouement_, for which all were a.s.sembled. The last course had been served, and coffee and nuts were on the table, when the clock chimed the hour for which all were anxious. Promptly at the first stroke Mr.

Mitchel arose. There was a silence till twelve was tolled and then he began:

"Gentlemen, you have all kindly accepted my invitation to see me win a rash wager made thirteen months ago. It is odd, perhaps, that I should have won--for I announce that I have won--when we remember that the time was thirteen months, which number, as we all know, superst.i.tious persons are inclined to connect with misfortune. To show, however, that I do not harbor such childish ideas, I purposely made the time of that length, and, to-night, at the decisive moment, we are thirteen." Here he paused a moment, and one might have noticed that several persons quickly counted those present to test the fact. Continuing, he said: "The superst.i.tion in connection with thirteen at dinner is a well-defined one, and the supposition is that one of the number will die within the year. I offer as a toast, therefore, 'Long life to all present--who deserve it.'" The last clause after a slight hesitation, made a decided effect. However, the toast was drunk in silence.

"As some present may not entirely understand what my wager was, I must explain that thirteen months ago to-night I was in a Pullman sleeper with my friend, Mr. Randolph. Mr. Barnes here had just accomplished a neat capture of the criminal Pettingill, who has since been convicted.

The papers were praising him, and Mr. Randolph did so to me in glowing terms. I ventured the a.s.sertion that detectives run down their prey largely because the criminal cla.s.s lack intelligence sufficient to compete with their more skilled adversaries. I offered to wager that I could commit a crime within a month and not be detected within a year thereafter. The amount was to be a thousand dollars, and was accepted by Mr. Randolph. I stipulated for conviction, though had I been arrested within the stated period and convicted afterwards, I should have considered that I had lost the wager. That is why I awaited the arrival of Mr. Barnes so anxiously. I had not seen him for some time, and it was possible that at the last moment he might be prepared to arrest me upon evidence that would later convict me. However, gentlemen, I have escaped both arrest and conviction, yet I committed the crime as wagered."

"You must prove that," said Mr. Randolph; "and, according to our agreement, it must have been a crime which was much talked about!"

"Quite right, my friend, but I shall be able to demonstrate all that. By a curious coincidence a robbery was committed on the very night and upon the same train upon which we made our wager, whilst another robbery was committed almost at the moment when the stipulated month expired. Thus two crimes transpired within the time allowed me, and with both of these my name has been connected in the mind of the detective, Mr. Barnes.

Now, that you all may better understand the circ.u.mstances, I must go to what I might call the beginning. Years ago certain circ.u.mstances in my earlier life gave me an intimate acquaintance with the methods used by detectives, and I then acquired the idea which led me into this undertaking,--that where the criminal has succeeded in escaping actual watching during the commission of his crime, so that there is no witness to the act, the detective is almost powerless until he learns the object for which the crime was undertaken. Am I not right, Mr.

Barnes?"

"To know the object of a crime, of course, is a great a.s.sistance, but much would depend upon the attendant circ.u.mstances."

"True. The object then is important. From this point I reached the conclusion that if a man approached another, totally unknown to him, at night in a lonely neighborhood, struck him on the head, killing him, and then, unseen, reached his own home, it would rest entirely with himself whether or not he would ever be caught. I wanted a chance to try this experiment; that is, to commit a crime solely to test the ability of the detectives to discover me afterwards. The difficulty was that a gentleman of honor would scarcely wish to engage in such a reprehensible piece of business. For years, therefore, I could think of no way to have my wish, till the merest chance threw the opportunity within my grasp.

Waiter, fill up the gla.s.ses."

He paused a moment while this was being done. The men went around with champagne, and when Mr. Thauret was reached he asked to have his Burgundy gla.s.s filled also. Mr. Mitchel was again speaking when the waiter returned with the red wine, and did as requested. Mr. Barnes also presented his gla.s.s for the same liquor, saying in an undertone to Mr.

Thauret, "I cannot take too much champagne."