NICK TAKES A CHANCE.
Nick Carter found Gordon seated in a detention room at police
headquarters, accompanied by Regan, Kennedy, and the police
commissioner.
The two officers had arrived with their prisoner several minutes before,
bringing also the evidence mentioned by Phelan. Despite the persuasive
arguments of the commissioner, however, for the two men were personal
friends, Gordon had positively refused to make any statements about the
case, or to discuss the threatening situation in which he was involved.
He sprang up eagerly, nevertheless, when Nick entered, and a tinge of
color appeared in his pale cheeks. He extended his hand, saying
fervently:
“Thank Heaven, Carter, that you have arrived. I was just about to
request that I might telephone to you again. I seem to be in a deucedly
bad mess. I can depend only upon you to pull me out of it.”
“I will try to do so, Gordon, of course,” Nick replied, after a word of
greeting for the others. “Have you told----”
“I have told nothing,” Gordon interrupted. “Nor will I, Nick, except in
a private interview with you. I then will state all that I know about
this infernal business.”
“Well, that can be arranged, I think,” Nick replied, turning to the
commissioner. “Have you any objection?”
“None whatever, Nick,” was the reply. “I know of no man I would rather
have on the case. Go as far as you like.”
The commissioner at once withdrew with Regan and Kennedy, and Nick took
the chair the former vacated.
“Now, Gordon, hand me straight goods and be quick about it,” he said
forcibly. “I have been to Tilly Lancey’s flat and know what has been
found there, also what Regan and Kennedy have discovered that appears to
incriminate you. It goes without saying, however, that I don’t take much
stock in it. I must have the whole truth from you, nevertheless, if I am
to pull you out of the fire.”
“Have you seen----”
“Don’t delay to question me,” Nick interrupted insistently. “I shall see
all there is to be seen. Merely answer my questions as briefly as
possible. Did you call on Tilly Lancey last evening?”
“Yes, I did,” Gordon admitted.
“Did you mail her a letter stating that you would visit her at eleven
o’clock?”
“Yes.”
“For what? What relations have you had with a woman of her stamp?”
“That can be quickly told,” said Gordon. “I was stopped on Fifth Avenue
three days ago by a fashionably dressed woman, closely veiled. She asked
me to give her a few minutes’ conversation, stating that she had
important information for me, something that would have a favorable
bearing upon my election to congress.”
“You consented?”
“Yes.”
“What followed?”
“She then said that she had in her possession a package of letters
written to her by my political opponent, John Madison, the nature of
which, if made public, would ruin him politically and insure his
defeat.”
“H’m, I see.”
“She said that she would allow me to read them, that I might judge for
myself of the effect their publication would have, and to which she
would consent on conditions that she would state after I had read the
letters.”
“What reply did you make?” Nick questioned.
“Naturally, being very anxious to carry this election, I questioned her
further,” said Gordon. “She would reveal nothing more definite, however,
unless I would call on her and examine the letters.”
“Do you mean, Gordon, that she did not then reveal her identity?” Nick
inquired.
“Oh, no, not that,” Gordon said quickly. “I told her that I would not
consider such a proposition from any unknown woman. She then drew her
veil aside and I recognized her.”
“Matilda Lancey?”
“Yes.”
“You say you recognized her,” said Nick. “How long have you known her?”
“I never spoke to her before in my life,” Gordon earnestly assured him.
“I long have known her by name and reputation, however, and I at once
decided that I would not consider her proposal.”
“Quite right, I’m sure.”
“I told her so, Nick, but she insisted upon my taking her address and
her telephone number, lest I should change my mind,” Gordon went on.
“She said that I could communicate with her, in that case, and that was
all during that meeting.”
“Well, what more?”
“I did not then intend to give the matter another thought,” said Gordon.
“I could not keep it out of my mind, however, for I am having a hard
political fight and seeking every possible lever with which to swing the
election my way.”
“In short, Gordon, you finally decided to call on Tilly Lancey and read
the Madison letters,” said Nick, interrupting.
“That’s the main point. I did, Nick, and I tried to get her by telephone
yesterday morning,” bowed Gordon. “I was unable to do so, however, and I
then wrote a line to her and dropped it in the mail when I went out to
lunch.”
“Did you afterward hear from her or try to telephone to her?”
“No. I took it for granted that she would receive my note and that I
would find her at home at the time mentioned.”
“Why did you set so late an hour?”
“Because I had a political appointment which I knew would detain me
until nearly eleven o’clock.”
“Enough of that, then,” said Nick. “It covers that part of the ground.
At what time did you arrive at her flat?”
“It was after eleven, nearly half past.”
“You found her at home?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, so far as I knew.”
“What followed?”
“I had removed my--but I am getting ahead of my story,” Gordon broke
off. “Knowing the reputation of the woman, Nick, and that my face has
become a very familiar one because of the political placards about town,
and apprehending that I might be recognized, if seen going there, and
incur adverse and unjust criticism, I resolved to visit her in
disguise.”
“I see,” said Nick, without further comments.
“As I was saying,” Gordon continued, “I removed my disguise in the
vestibule, and Miss Lancey admitted me a moment later. She invited me
into the room back of the front parlor.”
“I know,” Nick nodded. “What then occurred?”
“She then came to the point and said plainly that she wanted to sell me
the letters Madison had written to her. She stated that they were of so
compromising a character that, if published, his defeat in the coming
election would be inevitable.”
“That’s about what I suspected,” Nick remarked.
“She offered to give them to me and permit me to have them published,
either personally or indirectly, for ten thousand dollars. She did most
of the talking, Nick, and that’s about all that was said.”
“You mean----”
“I mean, of course, that I would not resort to such despicable means
even to insure my election,” Gordon interrupted more forcibly. “I told
her so, also what I thought of her and her proposition, and I then left
the house.”
“Did she accompany you to the door?”
“No. I departed in haste and disgust, both for her and myself, for
having gone there.”
“What was she doing when you left?”
“She was seated on a sofa in the rear parlor. I paused in the vestibule
only to replace my disguise, and I then hastened home. That was the last
I saw of her, or want to see.”
“I understand.”
“You can imagine my amazement and consternation, therefore, when I was
arrested this morning for having murdered her, to say nothing of being
confronted with such evidence as has been discovered,” Gordon added. “I
tell you, Nick, nevertheless, that I----”
“Never mind telling me, Gordon, for time is of value,” Nick again
interposed. “Merely answer my questions. Did you see the package of
letters she claimed to have had?”
“I did not, Nick. She said they were in her desk.”
“Was the desk closed?”
“Yes, and locked. It is a roll top, which locks automatically when the
cover is rolled completely down. I noticed that it was tightly closed.”
“It was locked, Gordon, all right,” said Nick. “Did you remove your
overcoat while talking with Miss Lancey?”
“Yes.”
“Did you put it on before leaving the flat?”
“No. I put it on after reaching the street. I merely took my disguise
from the pocket and put that on while in the vestibule,” Gordon
thoughtfully explained. “I then hurried out to the street. I may have
walked half a block before putting on my overcoat, for I was feeling a
bit warm and resentful. It irritated me that the woman thought me
capable of such beastly business.”
“She sized you up from her own standpoint,” Nick remarked. “Can you in
any way account for spots of blood on your suit, your overcoat, and in
one of the pockets of the latter?”
“No, Nick, most emphatically,” Gordon declared. “I am entirely in the
dark.”
“Am I to understand, then, that you now have told me all that you know
about the crime, or any circumstances that might have a bearing on it?”
Nick inquired.
“Yes, absolutely all,” said Gordon. “I know nothing whatever about the
crime itself, Nick, nor have I the slightest suspicion as to who
committed it.”
“How did you return home?”
“I took a subway train.”
“Were you then in disguise?”
“No. I removed it before arriving at the subway station, and thrust it
into my pocket.”
“Did you meet any one with whom you are acquainted?”
“I don’t think so. I noticed no one. I hurried home and went directly to
bed. Really, Nick, that is all I can tell you.”
“That will answer, then,” said the detective. “Are these the articles
brought from your residence?”
“Yes.”
Nick had arisen abruptly and turned to a table near one of the walls.
Lying on it were the disjointed sections of a burglar’s jimmy, one of
which was stained with blood; also Gordon’s evening suit, his overcoat,
and the disguise worn the previous night.
Nick examined all of them carefully, noting the spots of blood on the
black suit, consisting of several scattered drops on the left sleeve and
left pants leg, as if bespattered from a gushing wound.
There was only a single spot on the overcoat, however, and that was near
the bloodstained pocket.
“It’s a mystery to me, Nick, a damnable mystery,” said Gordon, after
waiting for the detective to express an opinion. “This is likely to ruin
my chances of election, to say nothing of----”
“Say nothing is what you must do,” Nick interrupted. “I will try to
ferret out the truth, Gordon, before the publication of the superficial
facts can do you any harm.”
“A thousand thanks, Nick,” said Gordon gratefully. “I knew I could
depend on you.”
“We will confide in the commissioner, however, and I think I can prevail
on him to liberate you and state that your arrest was due to a mistake.”
“Really? I would be doubly grateful for that.”
“The commissioner knows you as well as I do, Gordon, and he will realize
that your defeat in the near election may result from holding you under
arrest. That must be prevented, if possible.”
“I will return home, Nick, and remain there subject to his orders,” said
Gordon, eager to bring it about. “Or he can have an officer go there to
watch me.”
“I think I can make him see, Gordon, that you are most likely the victim
of a plot, rather than guilty of this crime,” Nick replied. “All this
will necessitate my breaking a record to find absolute evidence in proof
of it, however, and I shall leave you immediately after talking with
him. You keep your mouth closed after that, and be patient till you hear
from me.”
“I will do both, Nick,” Gordon assured him.
“I’ll be off, then, after a talk with the commissioner. Come with me. I
also want him to hold these articles subject to my order. I think I may
find a use for them.”