CHAPTER

I. Monk contemplates a Voyage to America

II. Old Frick

III. Mr. Reginald Howell

IV. The Black Tortoise again

V. At the Police Station

VI. A Morning Visit

VII. Lawyer Jurgens

VIII. The Arrest

IX. The Photograph

*PART II*

I. The Trial

II. The Photograph cannot lie

III. In the Dark

IV. Monk's Examination

V. The Most Important Chapter in the Book. Clara acts the

Detective

VI. Old Frick Again

VII. The Yacht *Deerhound*

*PART I*

*THE BLACK TORTOISE*

*CHAPTER I*

*MONK CONTEMPLATES A VOYAGE TO AMERICA*

"I am off to America on Friday next."

"What! off to America?"

"Yes; I'm not joking."

"Are you really serious? Fancy, going to America this time of the year,

at the end of November! It must be very important business which takes

you there! Can't you send some one else? You know Clara won't consider

her firstborn properly baptized if you don't stand godfather to him.

That ceremony is to take place next Sunday."

"Unfortunately it is important business--very important business--that

only I can undertake. I am awfully sorry to disappoint your wife, but I

must go."

This conversation took place in Monk's sitting-room. It was my usual

habit, on leaving my office at seven o'clock, to go up to Monk's rooms

and have a chat with him, and sometimes persuade him to come home with

me.

I ought perhaps here to inform my readers that, some years before this

story begins, I had returned to my native country after having spent

several years abroad, where I had made a small competency as an

engineer. When I again saw Monk, the friend of my boyhood, I found he

had, strange to say, adopted the profession of private detective. As far

as I could understand, he carried on this business just as much out of

love for his work as for a means of earning his living, and had already

won himself a reputation by his shrewdness, honesty, and

disinterestedness.

Monk's sudden announcement took my breath away; he had never for a

moment said a word about going to America before.

"Is it a new case you have on hand?" I asked.

"No; it is not a new case."

I looked doubtingly at him; this was not the Monk I was accustomed to

see standing quietly before me with the handsome, open countenance, and

the intelligent grey eyes looking fearlessly into mine.

He was now pacing restlessly up and down the floor. All at once he

stopped in front of me.

"Can you stay with me this evening?"

"Yes; with pleasure," I replied. "Clara has gone to the theatre with a

friend. I am therefore free, and it was my intention to propose to you

that we should spend the evening together."

"That's right; let us have supper at once, for I have something to tell

you, and until I have done so I shall have no peace."

Monk rang; and soon after we sat down to supper. My host ate scarcely

anything; indeed, he hardly attended to his duties as host, and could

not conceal his impatience to hasten the end of the meal.

It was quite apparent that something unusual was the matter, so I got

through my supper as quickly as possible without interchanging many

words.

When we returned again to the sitting-room, Monk placed me in one of his

comfortable chairs, and set before me some whiskey and water and cigars.

He himself lit a cigar, but soon threw it half-smoked into the fire.

"You said you wanted to speak to me about something, Monk."

"Yes; if you have patience to listen to me."

"Of course I have!"

A faint smile lit up Monk's dark countenance.

"I have put your patience to a severe test over and over again with my

lectures on detective science, logic, deductions, and the like; but what

I have in mind this evening is nothing of that sort. Do you feel

inclined to hear a story about myself, the story of how it was I came to

be the kind of man I am, and to lead the life I do?"

"My dear fellow," I answered, "I am more than ready to listen to you.

Any one can see that sometime or another something has happened to you

which has thrown a shadow over your existence; but, as you can

understand, one does not ask one's friends about that sort of thing.

One generally waits until one is approached."

"You are right, and I ought to have told you all about it long ago;

especially as, for my part, I have nothing whatever to conceal. Yes, a

man is wrong to shut himself up in himself more than is necessary; and

in my case I am afraid I have been foolish, and doubly stupid, not to

have called to my aid a clever friend's assistance. I have stared

myself blind with trying to find a way out of the dark. It is, however,

wrong of me to call the affair my affair, since I no longer play any

part in it; but, in any case, it concerns some one who was as dear to me

as my own life. Are you prepared to listen to me? If so, you shall get

to know as much of my history as I know of it myself."

"Go on, Monk; go on! If an honest man and an intelligent woman can help

you in any way, you have them at your disposal in Clara and myself."

I stretched out my hand to him; Monk seized it and shook it heartily.

All doubt and restlessness on his side had vanished. In giving the

account of his story, I only wish that I could have given it in his own

clear language and striking words. To detail it in full is of course

impossible; but I will do the best I can, and if the narrative should

become tedious, or wanting in clearness, it is my fault, and not Monk's.

*CHAPTER II*

*OLD FRICK*

When we separated, about fifteen years ago (began Monk), that time you

went to Zurich to complete your studies as engineer, I went in seriously

for law, and was fortunate enough in four years' time to take my degree

with honours.

My friends and teachers tried to persuade me to follow a scientific

career. An endowment could have been had from the university; and with

this, together with a small inheritance from my father, I could have

followed without trouble the beaten path to a professorship at the

university,--so I was told, at any rate.

But this was not to my mind; to have got free from the student's bench

only to climb immediately to the dusty chair of a professor, seemed to

me anything but attractive.

I first got a situation in the office of a government official, far up

in the country, where there was little to do, but plenty of game and

fishing; and I returned to Christiania the year after, a bearded,

red-cheeked, young Nimrod.

Then I became the youngest inspector in the Christiania police office,

and spent about two years in fining young men for disorderly conduct in

the streets, and keeping order among the erratic female population of

the town.

As you can well understand, it was hardly an occupation likely to

attract a man for any length of time, and I explained this to our

amiable chief superintendent when, one day, I placed my resignation on

his desk.

"Stop a moment, my dear Monk," he said, with his genial smile. "Could

you not wait a little, before you hand in this resignation? I must

admit I have not found that you possess any special talent, either with

regard to arresting drunken students, or as a censor of vice; still, on

the other hand, I should be much deceived, after my many years of

experience, if you do not find your right sphere in the detective

department. Practically every one is aware that it is to you we owe our

success in the great post office robbery, although officially you had

nothing to do with it; and I, at any rate, know how well you cleared up

the Fjorstat murder. For many months I have been thinking of offering

you an appointment on the detective force. If you will take your

resignation back, you can consider the matter as settled."

I gladly accepted the offer, but not until I had obtained a year's

leave; a year which I spent abroad in travel, to study languages and

life in the great countries.