THE CLIMAX.
Klein and his unwilling prisoner entered the large room, to find it
cleared of all women. The men were grouped at one end of the room, and
were talking in whispers. In a chair sat Tanner, his face colorless, his
collar torn, his shirt rumpled. At his side stood Tod, flushed and
triumphant. In front of both was Mr. Lydecker.
The moment Klein entered upon this scene, preceded by Jarge, an
exclamation fell from Mr. Lydecker’s lips. Tanner, looking up, started
visibly, and a silent signal seemed to flash between him and Jarge.
Klein alone noticed it, but said nothing.
“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Mr. Lydecker, unaware for the second that
Jarge was a prisoner. “I’m glad you’re here, Mr. Jarge. We have
discovered a painful----”
“Mr. Jarge is not talking at present,” Klein interrupted. “At my request
he is here to return the necklace which his confederate, Tanner, dropped
to him from the window.”
“D-dropped to him?” stammered Mr. Lydecker.
“Exactly. I am glad that we managed to catch both men at the same time.”
He beamed upon the excited reporter.
“I nabbed my man just as he opened the window,” Tod said. “I guess he
dropped the necklace at the same time.”
Klein motioned Jarge to be seated. The detective obeyed sullenly. Then
Klein brought the necklace from his pocket and handed it to Mr.
Lydecker.
“Will you kindly return this to its rightful owner?” he said.
Mr. Lydecker accepted the necklace with trembling fingers. “This--this
is all a mystery to me,” he gulped. “I cannot understand. I--I----” He
stopped, and looked helplessly at Klein.
“Perhaps Mr. Jarge, with the proper persuasion, will return your
daughter’s brooch, which he took last Saturday night,” Klein said.
“You’ll have to prove that,” snarled Jarge, his black eyes blazing.
“This whole affair is--is a mistake.”
“A very serious mistake on your part,” Klein answered. Then, facing
Tanner squarely, he said: “What have you to say?”
“Nothing,” replied Tanner.
“Following your instructions, Klein,” broke in Tod, “I had the police
called here.”
Hardly had the words left the reporter’s lips when the chief of police
himself, accompanied by two detectives, entered the room.
“What is the trouble, Mr. Lydecker?” the chief asked sharply. “Another
robbery?”
Mr. Lydecker nodded. “I--I guess Mr. Klein will explain the whole
painful matter to you. I am all upset.”
The chief turned to Klein, who, in a very few words, explained how he
had come upon Jarge under the window just as the necklace was being
dropped.
“This is the man who dropped it?” asked the chief, nodding toward
Tanner.
“Yes,” said Tod eagerly.
“And it was caught outside the window by this man?” the chief went on,
nodding toward Jarge.
Klein answered in the affirmative. Then he added: “Do you happen to know
of a Mr. Jarge, who is at the head of a private detective association?”
“Never heard of either one of them,” was the blunt answer.
“If there was such an organization in the city you would undoubtedly be
aware of it?”
“Certainly I would.”
Klein smiled. “Mr. Lydecker has been imposed upon by a pair of clever
crooks; one of them an actor, whom you have probably seen in the Hudson
Stock Company; the other passing himself off as a detective. Last week
they got away with Miss Lydecker’s brooch, and to-night they probably
figured upon a greater haul.”
“How do you happen to know so much concerning them?” demanded the chief,
plainly impressed, yet at the same time perplexed.
“I have been interested in the case for the past month,” Klein answered
frankly.
“Are you a detective?”
“I am an actor, who for a certain reason found it necessary to play the
rôle of a detective,” announced Klein.
“And that reason?” insisted the chief.
“The best reason in the world--for self-defense!”
“It is rather unusual for a man in your position to assume such a task
without----”
“Will you allow me five minutes for a full explanation?” Klein asked.
The chief agreed.
“A month ago,” began Klein, “a friend of mine, Charles Delmar, was found
unconscious on the roof of his boarding house, in New York City.”
“I recall the case,” broke in the chief, nodding.
“Previous to his assault, I was with him. I had stopped in on my way to
the Albany Hotel, where I expected to get a theatrical engagement. I
found my friend desperately in need of money--he had been ill and out of
work for six months. In sympathy for him I forced him to take my
clothes--his own were in rags--and apply for the position. I remained in
his room until midnight, and as he did not return, was compelled to
leave, wearing his clothes. On my way through the hall I was seen by the
landlady, who, before I could explain, imagined I was a thief, and
called the police. Before their arrival, however, I was aided in
escaping by an unknown person, whom I learned to-night, from his own
lips, to be Mr. Jarge. The next day I was astounded to hear of my
friend’s death, and still more surprised to learn that he was discovered
on the roof of the house, clad in a suit of gray clothes.”
“What was so surprising about that?”
“The simple fact that when I last saw him he was wearing my clothes, and
they were of a peculiar shade of brown,” Klein said.
The chief frowned, but nodded for Klein to proceed.
“An hour or two previous to my discovery I met a friend who declared he
had seen a man entering the Albany Hotel wearing my suit. He was so
positive of it that I came to the conclusion that this man was after the
stock engagement sought by Delmar, and that he had assaulted my friend
and changed clothes with him for the identical reason I had in changing
clothes with Delmar. Realizing my own position in the matter, and the
strong circumstantial evidence against me, I determined to take this
clew, slight as it was, but the only one, apparently, and run it to
earth. To clear myself of suspicion I had to apprehend the real
criminal.
“Mr. Tod”--indicating the reporter--“is a representative of the New York
_News_, and has been commissioned by his paper to find me. I outwitted
him in New York, but he managed to trace me aboard the Fall River boat,
and was on the point of having me arrested when this same obliging
gentleman, Mr. Jarge, interfered and prevented it.
“I continued on to Fall River, after parting from Jarge at Newport, and
from there traveled to Hudson, where the stock company in question is
located. Here, as a supernumerary, I started my quest. I soon learned
that the manager had signed three men that night in New York--Metcalfe,
Tanner, and Dodge. So this was a more difficult problem for me to solve.
I had to discover which of the three men was the right one, and at the
same time keep my intentions secret. By substituting a photograph of my
friend, Delmar, for another picture used in one of the scenes, I
eliminated Dodge, and narrowed the suspicion down to Metcalfe and
Tanner, both of whom had shown much concern over the photograph, and
later demanded its removal from the frame.
“One night, in my dressing room, Tanner dropped a newspaper clipping,
which I found and read, and which I thoughtlessly wrapped about a stick
of grease paint, and placed in my make-up box, little thinking it would
prove to be of any consequence. Last Saturday night, at a dance given in
this house, Miss Lydecker’s brooch was stolen. At first the case
appeared to be a most puzzling one, since none of the men had left the
room, and all of them readily submitted to a search. After I arrived
home that same night I recollected that just before the brooch was
missed, Tanner had opened a window. I saw instantly that in this way the
brooch had been dropped to a confederate below. I also remembered that
earlier in the evening Miss Lydecker had seen a man skulking along in
the shadow of the hedge. I made a search, but found nothing. This man
Jarge evidently had been Tanner’s confederate.”
“Why did you not inform me of this?” broke from Mr. Lydecker, who was
greatly agitated over the explanation.
“Because I was not positive,” Klein replied, “and I did not care to make
accusations until I had the proofs.”
“Please continue, Mr. Klein,” said the chief of police.
“Three days ago,” Klein resumed, “while on a trip to Fall River, I was
fortunate enough to save Mr. Tod from the hands of several enraged
strikers. While this meeting was a surprise to me, and to him as well,
the fact that he was wearing my brown suit--the suit taken from Delmar
on the roof of his boarding house--was a still greater one. From Mr.
Tod, who then refused to believe me guilty of the Delmar assault, owing
to my action in protecting him, I learned he had been in Boston, and
while there had chanced to overhear a conversation between two strangers
which convinced him that Jarge was not a detective, but a clever crook
posing as one, and known to those of the underworld as ‘Doc.’”
The attentive chief of police exclaimed sharply: “Doc? Why, that man is
wanted in half a dozen parts of the country!”
“Then you’ll have the honor of arresting him,” Klein replied.
“Meanwhile,” he went on, picking up the thread of his story, “Tod
informed me that he had purchased my suit in a pawnshop opposite the
station in Fall River. In searching the pockets we found a piece of
folded newspaper. I saved it. A part of the paper is torn, and the
clipping Tanner dropped from his pocket that night in my dressing room
just fits that torn part!”
Tanner, who had remained silent while the evidence was piling up against
him, suddenly leaped to his feet.
“It--it’s a lie!” he burst out. “A lie! You can’t----”
Tod jerked him back to his chair. “Sit down!” he commanded, glorying in
his position. “When we want you to talk we’ll let you know.”
“Mr. Tod recognized Tanner as one of Mrs. Wold’s roomers,” Klein
continued, “and that same night I sent her a telegram. In answering it
she mentioned the fact that Tanner had occupied a room adjoining
Delmar’s, and on the morning of the assault had disappeared. She said,
also, that a slim, black-eyed stranger was a frequent visitor to this
room. From then on my case was as good as finished. I enlisted the
services of Mr. Tod, and together we have managed to bring the little
drama to a satisfactory conclusion.”
Tanner, white-lipped, trembling with suppressed agitation, was on his
feet again, despite Tod’s effort to prevent him.
“There isn’t a shred of truth in that yarn!” he cried hoarsely. “I--I
didn’t take the necklace--nobody saw me! I don’t know a thing about this
Delmar case! Never heard of it! I tell you it’s all--all a lie!”
Klein, awaiting the favorable opportunity to spring his final and
greatest surprise, suddenly stripped the raincoat from his shoulders,
and faced the stammering, protesting Tanner.
A dead silence followed--few realized the situation--broken sharply by
a scream from Tanner, as, wild-eyed, his nerves shattered by the strain
he had labored under, and the story he had been compelled to listen to,
beheld the telltale brown suit on its rightful owner.
One staring, agonized look, as though on the accusing face of his
victim, and Tanner’s spirit was broken. He was no weakling, but before
this unexpected and daring stroke of Klein’s the actor collapsed.
Another outburst followed the first, and, as if desirous of fleeing from
further torment, Tanner whirled, knocked the astounded reporter aside,
and sprang through the window.