THE KILGORE DIAMOND GANG.
"Now, gentlemen, only a few more questions, and I then shall be ready to
go at this case in a more energetic fashion," said Nick Carter,
immediately after Chick's departure. "Were any of your clerks absent
from the store, Mr. Venner, at the time of this robbery?"
"As I was absent myself, I cannot say," replied Venner, rather dryly.
"How about it, Garside?--you were here."
"Only one clerk, a young man named Spaulding, was out of the store."
"Was he out on business?"
"Yes, under my instructions," Venner quickly explained. "We have
numerous old accounts on our books, and just before I went uptown I sent
Spaulding out to try to make a few collections. I think he has returned
by this time."
"It does not matter, since he was out under your instructions," said
Nick, closing his notebook. "Now, Mr. Venner, who among your employees
knew you thought of buying this lot of diamonds from Hafferman, or that
you had called at his store to examine them?"
"Not a soul," was the prompt reply.
"Are you sure of that?"
"Absolutely. I had said nothing of the matter, even to my partner, there
being nothing definite about it before I saw Señora Cervera this
morning. I am sure that none of my clerks had any idea of my
intentions."
Nick was not so sure of it, yet he did not say so. He arose and took
from Venner's desk a block of plain paper, which he laid upon the table.
"Gentlemen," said he, "I want the signature of your firm, in the
handwriting of each of you. Kindly let me have this."
"What's that for?" demanded Venner, abruptly.
"I wish to make a comparison with the forged order which my assistant
will presently bring from Mr. Hafferman," Nick coolly explained. "I
would suggest that you do not delay me."
Venner made no reply, but took a pen and signed the firm's name upon the
blank paper.
"Now yours, Mr. Garside."
"Mine also, Detective Carter?" queried Garside, with a look of surprise.
"If you please."
"Surely," cried Venner, with some resentment, "you do not suspect that
Mr. Garside or myself--"
"Pardon me!" Nick bluntly interrupted. "I am not in the habit of
discussing my suspicions. That I should suspect either of you, however,
is utterly absurd."
"I should say so!"
"Therefore do not argue with me over an absurdity. If I am to continue
this investigation, gentlemen, I must do it in my own way. Either that,
or I shall drop the case at once. Your signature, Mr. Garside."
Garside hastened to take the pen, and dashed off the firm's signature
below that of his partner. Nick tore the page from the block, then
handed the latter to Venner.
"Now, Mr. Venner," said he, "have each of your employees, from first to
last, write his name with pen and ink upon this paper. Don't overlook
one of them, not one, from your bookkeeper down to your office boy. If
Spaulding is still out, get his signature later, and send it to me by
mail. I will wait here while you are thus engaged."
Venner now vaguely perceived Nick's suspicions and design, and he could
not consistently offer any remonstrance. Yet he plainly resented the
idea that any of his clerks could have been guilty of co-operation with
the criminals who had committed the robbery that morning, and his dark
features wore a grim and sullen expression when he took the block of
paper and repaired to his main office.
Nick Carter sat and waited, silently sizing up the case as he then saw
it.
Just as Venner returned with the numerous signatures, Chick also put in
an appearance again, bringing with him the forged order which had been
left at Hafferman's store. Nick merely glanced at it, then thrust it
into his pocket.
"Did you see Boyden?" he inquired of Chick.
"Yes, and spoke with him," nodded Chick.
"What about him?"
"He looks all right."
"Did you get the signatures of Hafferman and his clerks?"
"They are on this paper."
"Good enough. Let me have those of your employees, Mr. Venner. Are they
all here?"
"Yes, all of them."
"Very good," said Nick, putting the several papers into his pocket.
"Now, Chick, what of the man who visited Hafferman's store with the
forged order?"
"He merely left the order and asked that the diamonds should be sent
here at once."
"What sort of a man?"
"Dark, about fifty, with a heavy mustache and wavy hair," said Chick,
glibly. "Quite a big fellow, Hafferman states."
"H'm!" ejaculated Nick, with a significant nod. "Now, Mr. Garside,
describe the man to whom you delivered the diamonds."
"Raymond?"
"If that is the name he gave you."
"He is a well-built, smoothly shaven fellow, of about thirty years, with
a sallow complexion, slightly pock-marked--"
"Ah, I thought so!" Nick curtly interrupted. "That's quite sufficient,
Mr. Garside."
"What do you mean, Carter?" quickly demanded Venner. "Do you already
recognize these criminals?"
"I recognize their work."
"And the men?"
"I've them in mind from the outset."
"Impossible!"
"Not so, Mr. Venner," Nick now declared, with emphasis. "Without a
shadow of doubt, sir, you have been victimized by the notorious Kilgore
diamond gang, a trio of the shrewdest and most daring scoundrels that
ever stood in leather."
"You amaze me."
"Do I?" inquired Nick, smiling softly. "Well, sir, if I were to tell you
the history of these rascals, you would be more than amazed--you would
be astounded. No crime is too desperate, no knavery too hazardous, no
villainy too despicable, for them to attempt, and too often successfully
execute. They have perpetrated their crimes over two continents, and are
known to the police the world over."
"That is not very complimentary to the police," said Venner, dryly. "I
marvel that such distinguished scoundrels are still at large."
"A fact which stamps them no ordinary criminals," replied Nick,
pointedly. "Nor are they, sir."
"What do you know of them, Detective Carter?"
"David Kilgore, the chief of the gang, is one of the shrewdest and most
daring of knaves, a man of splendid education, polished manners and
broad experience. He possesses nerves of steel, the cunning of a fox,
and would not shrink even from murder, if his designs required it. Yet
he invariably covers his tracks so cleverly, or so quickly vanishes when
hard pressed, that thus far he has successfully eluded the police.
That's David Kilgore, sir."
"And what of his associates?" inquired Venner. "I think you spoke of a
trio."
"His confederates are scamps of the same sort, and nearly his equal in
craft and daring," replied Nick. "Perry Dalton is one--the smooth,
pock-marked rascal whom you, Mr. Garside, had the pleasure of meeting
this morning. He is nicknamed Spotty Dalton, because of his slight
disfigurement."
"And the other?"
"Is a man named Matthew Stall, more commonly called Matt Stall. He is a
Western man, a graduate of a California university, and is an expert
electrician. Oh, I know all about them," laughed Nick, "although this is
the first time I have been up against them personally. I am rather glad
to discover that they are here in New York."
"Why so, Detective Carter?" Venner carelessly inquired, with a subtle
gleam in the depths of his dark eyes.
"Because I have long wanted to match my talents against those of Dave
Kilgore and his rascally push," declared Nick, with grim austerity. "The
last I knew of them they were in Amsterdam, Holland, where some of the
finest work in diamond cutting is done, as you doubtless know."
"Indeed, yes."
"They probably had to jump that country for obvious reasons, and very
likely the European continent," added Nick. "They have long avoided New
York, and the fact that they are now here is significant of--well, well,
we shall see! That's all, gentlemen!"
"But what do you intend doing about this case?" demanded Venner, as Nick
abruptly rose to go.
"All that can be done, sir," the famous detective bluntly rejoined. "I
accept the case, Mr. Venner, and will do my best with it. When I have
anything to report, you shall hear from me."
"But--"
"There really is nothing more to be said, gentlemen, and the sooner I
get to work the better," Nick gravely interposed.
"But will you advise me of any steps that you may take?" persisted
Venner, briefly detaining him by the arm.
"Very probably," nodded Nick, though really he probably would do nothing
of the kind. "And now good-day, gentlemen. If reporters call upon you,
you may give them all of the facts, and state that Nick Carter is at
work on the case. I want this Kilgore diamond gang to know at the outset
that I am after them--and fully resolved to land them where they
belong."
"Behind prison bars, eh?" inquired Venner, with an odd smile.
"Yes, sir! Behind prison bars!" declared Nick, forcibly. "Again,
gentlemen, good-day. You will hear from me later."
Mr. Rufus Venner, with his partner at his elbow, stood in the office
door and silently watched the two celebrated detectives as they strode
quickly through the elegant store, from which they presently vanished
into Fifth Avenue.
There was a smile of subtle cunning, combined with cruel and malicious
determination, on Venner's dark face and he muttered under his breath,
as the store door closed upon Nick's imposing figure:
"Hear from you later, eh? Very good. Very good, indeed, Mr. Detective
Carter! Hear from you again--that is precisely what I want! Early and
often, Detective Carter; early and often, if you please! It is precisely
for what the little robbery of this April morning was invented!"
"But was it necessary--was it really necessary, Rufus?" whispered
Garside, who alone had overheard, and whose paler face and tremulous
figure betrayed fears which his swarthy senior partner would have
scorned to feel. "This Carter is a most artful and discerning man. I am
so afraid you have barked up the wrong tree. Was it necessary, really
necessary, Rufus?"
Venner turned upon him with a half-smothered snarl of contempt.
"Bah! You'd be afraid of your own shadow, Garside, if left alone with
it," he sneered, between his white, even teeth. "Necessary--of course it
was necessary! Otherwise, I should not have adopted the ruse. We are
about to attempt a big game--an infernally big game! When it matures,
when it is finally launched, the very first concern that finds itself
bitten will rush to Nick Carter for aid."
"There is no doubt of that, Rufus."
"Surely no doubt of it! He is the greatest detective in the country--and
the greatest will be none too clever, nor too expensive, for those who
find themselves duped by our unparalleled design."
"I should say so."
"What will be the result, Philip?--what will be the result?" added
Venner, with a curious mingling of exultation and asperity. "If our
victims appeal to Nick Carter for help--are we not also already in his
good graces? Have we not insured his confidence in us by this little
move of to-day? Will he not reveal himself and his suspicions to us,
just as I have designed, and keep us posted about his every move, and so
forewarned and forearmed? Of course he will--to be sure he will!"
"But he is such a crafty and daring--"
"Bah! Is he more crafty than Dave Kilgore?" demanded Venner,
significantly. "Is he more daring than Spotty Dalton, or more determined
than anyone of the Kilgore gang? Not by a long chalk, Philip, and I know
of them of whom I speak. Ay, as much and more of them than does
Detective Nick Carter."
"Perhaps you are right, Rufus," murmured Garside, nodding. "We certainly
are about launching a tremendous, an utterly unparalleled, swindle. The
like of it was never, never known. There should be millions in it. Yes,
yes, Rufus, you are right. It was wise to preface our gigantic
operations by getting well in touch with Nick Carter."
"To be sure, it was wise, Philip, or I should not have taken the trouble
to do so," said Venner, with much less acrimony. "So be a man always,
Philip, and never a flunky. You have played your part admirably this
morning. Let it be played as well, Philip, even to the finish--even to
the last ditch!"
Philip Garside's color had returned, and he smiled confidently and
nodded in approval.
Plainly enough, this hushed yet emphatic intercourse between these two
indicated one fact--that Detective Nick Carter was up against a far
deeper game than he then imagined.