NICK WALKS INTO A NET.
It was half past eight that evening when Nick Carter, returning from his
interview with Mrs. Clayton, arrived at his Madison Avenue residence.
A taxicab was waiting at the curbing in front of the house, and Nick was
momentarily surprised when he entered his library. Its only occupant was
the visitor who had come in the taxi.
“Why, good evening, Clayton,” he said genially. “I was not expecting a
call from you so quickly. I am pleased to see you, all the same.”
One thought that had instantly arisen in Nick’s mind, however, in view
of his talk with Mrs. Clayton, was not reflected in his face. The
thought was:
“Which one is this? Chester Clayton--or his crook double?”
Clayton, as he certainly appeared to be, replied without hesitation,
without any observably intent scrutiny of the detective’s face.
“I have a reason for calling, Nick,” said he. “Your butler told me that
you would probably return during the evening, so I requested the
privilege of waiting here.”
“Quite right, Clayton, I’m sure.”
“He could not tell me, however, where you had gone,” Clayton added, in a
way covertly inviting the detective to do so.
Nick did not do so, however, but he was quick to observe the insinuating
remark and draw a natural conclusion, one that he made doubly sure did
not appear in his face.
“Well, that’s not strange, Clayton,” he replied, laughing. “I had no
definite destination when I went out. Besides, I seldom tell my butler
where I am going, unless my mission relates to a case in which my
assistants are employed. Then I usually leave word for them, as I would
have done this evening, had that been the case.”
A momentary gleam, the sinister light of secret relief and satisfaction,
showed like a fleeting flash in the depths of his visitor’s eyes.
“It does not matter in the least, Nick, now that you have returned,” he
said quickly.
“What’s on your mind?” asked Nick, taking a chair. “You said you have a
reason for coming here.”
“So I have,” said Clayton, more earnestly. “I think I have a clew to the
crook who got the jewels.”
“By Jove, is that so?”
“The chance is worth taking.”
“What do you mean? What kind of a clew?” asked Nick, with manifest
interest.
“It came from a woman friend of mine early this evening,” Clayton
proceeded to explain. “She talked with me by telephone. I have not seen
her.”
“Who is she? What is her name?”
“Grace Alcott. She’s an old flame, a girl with whom I have always been
quite friendly. I know her to be reliable.”
“What did she tell you?” Nick inquired.
“She said she had information for me bearing upon the robbery. She
intimated, in fact, that she could put me in a way to nail the crook and
recover the stolen jewels.”
“Well, well, that would be going some,” declared Nick, apparently
becoming more enthusiastic. “Have you any faith in her statements,
Clayton?”
“Enough to send me here, Nick,” was the reply. “One other reason is the
fact that she lives just around the corner from the business quarters of
a guest in the hotel.”
“I see the point. What guest?”
“The physician you met this morning.”
“Doctor Guelpa.”
“Did she mention his name, or hint at him?”
“No, nothing of that kind.”
“Why did you not go to see her, then, instead of coming here?” Nick
inquired.
“For two reasons,” Clayton now explained, more hurriedly. “One, because
you are handling this case and I feared that I might interfere with you
if I butted in and did something of which you were ignorant.”
“I see.”
“Another, because Grace said I had better bring a detective with me, as
he would more quickly appreciate the points she wanted to lay before me,
and that he also would know what should be done.”
“She wanted you to call on her, then?”
“Yes, indeed, as soon as possible,” nodded Clayton. “I grabbed a taxi
and rushed down here, therefore, hoping that you would go with me. I
thought that was the best thing for me to do.”
“I guess it was,” Nick quickly agreed.
“Will you go?”
“Yes, yes, Clayton, by all means,” assented the detective. “There may be
something in this. We cannot afford to leave any stone unturned. The
sooner we go, too, the better.”
“Good enough. My taxi is outside.”
“Come on, then, and we’ll be off. I’ll not even wait to tell my butler
where I am going,” Nick added, with a laugh, as they hurried out of his
office.
Clayton joined with him in the laugh and followed him into the taxicab.
He evidently had given the driver his instructions, for he made no move
to do so. He remarked, as they settled back on the seat and rode away:
“I hope this won’t prove to be a wild-goose chase, Nick, after all.”
“It ought not, surely,” Nick replied. “You say you know the girl to be
reliable?”
“I have always found her so.”
“How old is she?”
“About thirty.”
“Old enough, then, to have sense and judgment.”
“So I think,” nodded Clayton. “That’s why I feel hopeful.”
“She lives back of Doctor Guelpa’s business establishment, you said?”
“Yes, directly back of it, Nick.”
“How long have you known the physician?” Nick questioned, and he
instantly detected the readiness with which his companion took up the
subject.
“Oh, for months, Nick,” was the reply.
“He appears to be all right, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, yes, surely! Otherwise, I would not have him in my hotel.”
“I presume so. It may be, nevertheless, that Miss Alcott has discovered
something about him of a derogatory nature, her home being so near his
business office.”
“Possibly,” Clayton allowed; then, with a furtive glance at Nick’s
inscrutable face: “He appeared all right to you this morning, didn’t
he?”
“Yes, indeed,” Nick declared. “He appeared like a perfect gentleman.”
“You saw no reason to suspect him?”
“Far from it, Clayton.”
“I guess Miss Alcott’s clew, if she really has any, relates to some one
else, or something else,” Clayton now said, with less obvious interest.
“Most likely,” Nick agreed.
“We shall very soon find out.”
“True.”
“Have you formed any other suspicions since I last saw you?”
“No, none whatever,” said Nick. “I still am in the dark.”
Clayton did not add to his inquiries.
It was nine o’clock when the taxicab drew up in front of the house to
which the chauffeur had been directed. He at once was dismissed by
Clayton, who was the first to alight, and he then led the way up the
steps and rang the bell.
It was answered by a well-built, powerful man in evening dress, whose
dark features were only faintly discernible in the dimly lighted hall.
“Good evening, Scoville,” said Clayton. “I think Miss Alcott is
expecting me.”
“Oh, it is you, Mr. Clayton,” was the reply. “Yes, sir, she is. Walk in,
gentlemen, and come this way.”
“The butler, Nick,” Clayton whispered, taking the detective’s arm.
Nick nodded indifferently and allowed himself to be conducted through
the hall.
Scoville turned into the nearest room, a front parlor, the others
following.
“One moment, gentlemen,” said he. “I’ll switch on the light.”
He did so while speaking, and Nick Carter then saw into what sort of a
net he had walked--but entirely voluntarily.
Three men with ready revolvers were confronting him.
Scoville instantly drew another.
Clayton, or Clayton’s double, quickly closed the door through which
they had entered, then turned and said sharply:
“Now, Carter, throw up your hands! If you show fight, you’ll go down and
out on the instant.”
Nick raised his hands and backed against the wall. He appeared to be
greatly surprised and equally resentful.
“What’s the meaning of this, Clayton?” he demanded; and the mention of
the name brought laughs from the others.
They were Draper, Biddle, and Scoville, who had been mentioned by Doctor
Guelpa in his apartments, also a third man who had had a hand in the
robbery, one Joe Gaines.
“Oh, I’m not Clayton, Carter,” was the derisive reply. “I’m the man who
looks like him. I’m the crook who got away with the sparks.”
“Good heavens!” Nick exclaimed, in seemingly increased amazement. “Is it
possible?”
“You bet it’s possible!” cried Guelpa, with a sinister nod. “It’s more
than that; it’s a fact. When I run across a man who looks so near like
me that I can see no difference, I’m the sort of a covey who makes the
most of it. You didn’t suspect Doctor Guelpa, eh? Carter, we’ve put it
all over you. I’m Guelpa.”
“You?” questioned Nick, still as if astonished.
“That’s what, Carter, as sure as you’re a foot high,” the rascal
declared, with an exultant leer. “Come out a little from that wall. Keep
your meat hooks up, mind you, or you’ll have no further use for them.
Either of these fellows would kill you at the first sign of violence. I
shall do so a little later, at all events, so I don’t mind putting you
wise to the whole business.”
“That’s very good of you,” Nick now replied coldly.
“Slip in behind him, Biddle, and get his weapons,” Guelpa commanded.
“Fish out his darbies, also, and snap them on his wrists. Egad! could
one have more satisfaction than in doing a dick with his own bracelets?”
“Not much more, doc!” cried Draper, laughing.
“Dukes behind him, Biddle. I told you I’d get him, Draper,” Guelpa
triumphantly added, while two of the crooks hastened to secure the
detective.
“You made good, all right.”
“He isn’t in my class.”
“Few dicks are, doc, as far as that goes.”
“Why, he told me on the way here that he didn’t suspect me,” cried
Guelpa derisively. “We’ve got him dead to rights, then. He can have
handed nothing to others about me.”
“Surely not.”
“And we’ll make dead sure that he never will. I suppose you wonder,
Carter, what we are doing in this house.”
“Well, not seriously,” said Nick, with mocking indifference.
“It’s back of my business quarters, just as I told you.”
“You told the truth once, then, at least,” Nick said dryly.
“Yes, sure,” cried Guelpa, laughing again. “This makes a good retreat
for us in case of danger. That throat-specialist gag is all phoney, a
colossal bluff. I had to pose in some impressive character. We can slip
from my office into this house, or the reverse, in two shakes of a
lamb’s tail. We’re the bunch who got the sparks, Carter, all right, and
now we’ve got you.”
“Yes, that’s very obvious,” said Nick, coolly taking a chair. “Since you
are so communicative, Guelpa, if that’s your name, suppose you tell me
how you got away with the jewel cases so quickly.”
“Why not?” leered Guelpa, while the others laughed as if they enjoyed
the detective’s blindness. “Scoville was the stranger who held Clayton
in his private office. My room is on the same floor with Clayton’s. I’ve
got garments like his. Never mind how and when I got them.”
“No, it’s not material,” Nick allowed dryly.
“Not at all, Carter, of course. I merely stole down the stairs, clad
like Clayton, and got the first casket. Biddle, disguised as a laundress
and provided with a big, covered basket, relieved me of it in the
corridor, and got away with it in the basket.”
“Ah, I see,” Nick nodded.
“I then got the other and whisked it up to my rooms,” added Guelpa.
“Then I hurried into my own clothing and my Hungarian hair and whiskers,
and I was right on the spot when wanted by lovely Mademoiselle Falloni
when she fainted. Could anything have been easier? Why, it was like
money sent from home.”
“It does appear so, Guelpa, I admit.”
“I wonder you have not thought of it, Carter,” grinned the rascal.
Nick’s eyes took on a more threatening gleam. He now felt sure that this
man did not suspect his relationship with Clayton, or know anything
definite about his early life, as he already had predicted to Mrs.
Clayton.
“Oh, I have thought of it, Guelpa,” he said, a bit curtly. “Don’t think
me quite a lunkhead. I knew the crook had garments and a pin like
Clayton’s. I know also when the scarfpin was duplicated. It was when you
rascals abducted Clayton three months ago.”
Guelpa’s face changed like a flash.
“How did you learn that?” he cried.
“I have methods of my own for obtaining information.”
“You have, eh?”
“And that’s not all I know, Guelpa,” Nick added.
“Is that so?”
“Far from it.”
“Tell me, then, as I told you.”
Guelpa spoke with a scornful sneer, but looks of apprehension had arisen
to the faces of his four confederates.
“Why not, then, as you said?” Nick retorted. “Don’t imagine for a
moment, Guelpa, that you lured me blindly into a net. I knew the instant
I saw you in my office this evening that you were not Chester Clayton.”
“Rot!” cried Guelpa derisively. “If you knew that, why did you walk into
the trap?”
“So as to get a line on your confederates, these fellows,” said Nick
curtly.
“I don’t believe it.”
“I will tell you, then, something that you will believe,” said Nick.
“What is that?”
“That your name is not Guelpa. Your true name is David Margate. You are
an English crook. You were convicted of burglary twelve years ago, and
sent up for five years. You are----”
“Stop!” cried Margate, ghastly white. “How did you learn that? How do
you know----”
“Oh, I know that you rascals will not get away with this job,” Nick
sternly interrupted. “I’ll soon have you landed where----”
Guelpa, or Margate, broke in upon him with a terrible oath.
“You will, eh?” he fiercely added. “You’ll find you are wrong. You are
depending upon that fellow, Garvan, but we’ve got him, also, as we’ve
got you. See for yourself.”
He flung aside the portière that hung across the open door of an
adjoining room, then in darkness.
Plainly visible in the light shed through the doorway, however, sat
Patsy Garvan, bound and gagged and tied to a wooden chair. This was two
hours after he had been transferred from the hotel, and his recovery
from the drug Guelpa had injected.
“And that’s not all,” Guelpa fiercely added. “Spring open that panel,
Biddle. Let him see--let him see for himself!”
Biddle touched a hidden spring in the wainscoted wall, and a panel flew
open.
In the space beyond sat--the two jewel caskets stolen from the Hotel
Westgate that morning.
“We’ve not had time to open them, to whack up the swag,” Guelpa went on,
as if beside himself with fierce and bitter rage. “There will be time
enough for that. We’ve got Garvan and we’ve got you. I’ll send you to
the devil on the spot. I’ll give you a dose that will--oh, perdition,
Scoville, I’ve left it in my suite. I went out in such a hurry that I
forgot it. I must have it. It’s the only thing that will cause death and
defy detection. I must have it. I’ll go and get it. Watch me--watch both
till I return. And remember the signal--the signal! I’ll send both to
the devil. Wait till I return.”
And Doctor Guelpa, after pouring forth these commands with a ferocity
that precluded interruption, turned and rushed like a madman out of the
house.