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"My dear Speed, I am always busy. I am like the people of the second Paris. I lose no time, but I have always time to speak with my friends."
"All right," said Speed. "I am like the people of the second Chicago, generally more intent on pleasure than business; but, nevertheless, I have a piece of business for you."
"The second Chicago?" asked Lecocq. "And where is that, pray?"
"Why, Paris, of course," said Speed.
Lecocq laughed.
"You are incorrigible, you Chicagoans. And what is the piece of business?"
"It is the old thing, monsieur. A mystery to be unravelled. Mr. Brenton here wishes to retain you in his case."
"And what is his case?" was the answer.
Lecocq was evidently pleased to have a bit of real work given him.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The detective.]
Speed briefly recited the facts, Brenton correcting him now and then on little points where he was wrong. Speed seemed to think these points immaterial, but Lecocq said that attention to trivialities was the whole secret of the detective business.
"Ah," said Lecocq, sorrowfully, "there is no real trouble in elucidating that mystery. I hoped it would be something difficult; but, you see, with my experience of the old world, and with the privileges one enjoys in this world, things which might be difficult to one below are very easy for us. Now, I shall show you how simple it is."
"Good gracious!" cried Speed, "you don't mean to say you are going to read it right off the reel, like that, when we have been bothering ourselves with it so long, and without success?"
"At the moment," replied the French detective, "I am not prepared to say who committed the deed. That is a matter of detail. Now, let us see what we know, and arrive, from that, at what we do not know. The one fact, of which we are a.s.sured on the statement of two physicians from Cincinnati, is that Mr. Brenton was poisoned."
"Well," said Speed, "there are several other facts, too. Another fact is that Mrs. Brenton is accused of the crime."
"Ah! my dear sir," said Lecocq, "that is not pertinent."
"No," said Speed, "I agree with you. I call it very impertinent."
Brenton frowned, at this, and his old dislike to the flippant Chicago man rose to the surface again.
The Frenchman continued marking the points on his long forefinger.
"Now, there are two ways by which that result may have been attained.
First, Mr. Brenton may have administered to himself the poison; secondly, the poison may have been administered by some one else."
"Yes," said Speed; "and, thirdly, the poison may have been administered accidentally--you do not seem to take that into account."
"I do not take that into account," calmly replied the Frenchman, "because of its improbability. If there were an accident; if, for instance, the poison was in the sugar, or in some of the viands served, then others than Mr. Brenton would have been poisoned. The fact that one man out of twenty-six was poisoned, and the fact that several people are to benefit by his death, point, it seems to me, to murder; but to be sure of that, I will ask Mr. Brenton one question. My dear sir, did you administer this poison to yourself?"
"Certainly not," answered Brenton.
"Then we have two facts. First, Mr. Brenton was poisoned; secondly, he was poisoned by some person who had an interest in his death. Now we will proceed. When Mr. Brenton sat down to that dinner he was perfectly well. When he arose from that dinner he was feeling ill. He goes to bed.
He sees no one but his wife after he has left the dinner-table, and he takes nothing between the time he leaves the dinner-table and the moment he becomes unconscious. Now, that poison must have been administered to Mr. Brenton at the dinner-table. Am I not right?"
"Well, you seem to be," answered Speed.
"Seem? Why, it is as plain as day. There cannot be any mistake."
"All right," said Speed; "go ahead. What next?"
"What next? There were twenty-six people around that table, with two servants to wait on them, making twenty-eight in all. There were twenty-six, I think you said, including Mr. Brenton."
"That is correct."
"Very well. One of those twenty-seven persons has poisoned Mr. Brenton.
Do you follow me?"
"We do," answered Speed; "we follow you as closely as you have ever followed a criminal! Go on."
"Very well, so much is clear. These are all facts, not theories. Now, what is the thing that I should do if I were in Cincinnati? I would find out whether one or more of those guests had anything to gain by the death of their host. That done, I would follow the suspected persons. I would have my men find out what each of them had done for a month before the time of the crime. Whoever committed it made some preparation. He did something, too, as you say, in America, to cover up his tracks. Very well. By the keen detective these actions are easily traced. I shall at once place twenty-seven of the best men I know on the track of those twenty-seven persons."
"I call that shadowing with a vengeance," remarked the Chicago man.
"It will be very easy. The one who has committed the crime is certain, when he is alone in his own room, to say something, or to do something, that will show my detective that he is the criminal. So, gentlemen, if you can tell me who those twenty-seven persons are, in three days or a week from this time I will tell you who gave the poison to Mr. Brenton."
"You seem very sure of that," said Speed.
"Sure of it? It is simply child's play. It is mere waiting. If, for instance, at the trial Mrs. Brenton is found guilty, and sentenced, the one who is the guilty party is certain to betray himself or herself as soon as he or she is alone. If it be a man who hopes to marry Mrs.
Brenton, he will be overcome with grief at what has happened. He will wring his hands and try to think what can be done to prevent the sentence being carried out. He will argue with himself whether it is better to give himself up and tell the truth, and if he is a coward he will conclude not to do that, but will try to get a pardon, or at least have the capital sentence commuted into life imprisonment. He will possibly be cool and calm in public, but when he enters his own room, when his door is locked, when he believes no one can see him, when he thinks he is alone, then will come his trial. Then his pa.s.sions and his emotions will betray him. It is mere child's play, as I tell you, and long before there is a verdict I will give you the name of the murderer."
"Very well, then," said Speed, "that is agreed; we will look you up in a week from now."
"I should be pained," said Lecocq, "to put you to that trouble. As soon as I get the report from my men I will communicate with you and let you know the result. In a few days I shall give you the name of the a.s.sa.s.sin."
"Good-bye, then, until I see you again," answered Speed; and with this he and Brenton took their departure.
"He seems to be very sure of himself," said Brenton.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Jane Morton.]
"He will do what he says, you may depend on that."
The week was not yet up when Monsieur Lecocq met John Speed in Chicago.
"By the look of satisfaction on your face," said Mr. Speed, "I imagine you have succeeded in unravelling the mystery."
"Ah," replied the Frenchman; "if I have the appearance of satisfaction, it is indeed misplaced."
"Then you have not made any discovery?"
"On the contrary, it is all as plain as your big buildings here. It is not for that reason, but because it is so simple that I should be foolish to feel satisfaction regarding it."
"Then who is the person?"