“MYSTERY 47.”
Nick had just concluded the preceding case, when he received a request
to come down to police headquarters at his earliest convenience. The
request came from the inspector in charge of the detective bureau, and
Nick hastened to comply, as Inspector Ward was an old and tried friend.
The inspector looked worried as he greeted Nick in his private room at
headquarters.
“Nick,” said the inspector, getting right down to business, “this is
undoubtedly the strangest case that has ever come to the attention of
the department, at least while I have been connected with it. We have
called it ‘Mystery 47,’ on account of its similarity to the case which
startled Paris a few years ago, that, if you will remember, occurred at
47 Rue Boulogne.
“The bodies of six men have been found, one after another, and all of
them within ten feet of each other. Another puzzling feature about the
murders is that there does not seem to have been any motive for any of
them, as the bodies when found did not appear to have been robbed. Still
another strange feature is that, so far, the coroner’s office has not
been able to determine what has been the cause of death in any of the
cases. We have absolutely no clews on which to work. Whoever the
assassin is, he has covered his tracks with the hand of a master, he has
not left the slightest thing on which we can work. There does not
appear to be any reason for the shooting down of the people that have
fallen at the hand of the murderer. In all my experience I have never
known of a case where murders have been committed without a reason, but
in this instance there does not seem to be the slightest reason for the
man to have struck down the people that he has, as the murdered men were
in different walks of life, and, so far as we can learn, none of them
had an enemy in the world.
“Another strange feature of the case is that the bodies all present
exactly the same appearance; on each is found a small speck of blood
over the heart. No other marks of violence are visible, and the
coroner’s physician says that he has not been able to find any trace of
poison in any of the bodies.
“So far the papers have not paid much attention to the mystery, but I
have concluded that the men whom I have had assigned to the case will
not be able to solve it, and so I sent for you, as I know that Nick
Carter has never yet failed to get at the bottom of any case.”
“You are very kind to say that, but I am afraid that you overestimate my
work,” said Nick modestly. “I will undertake to solve the mystery for
you, however.
“Of course I will not be hampered with instructions from anybody, as the
manner in which I work is not always in accordance with the set rules of
some of the detectives,” continued Nick.
“You will not be interfered with in any way, and any assistance that you
may need will be furnished you gladly,” said the inspector.
“Now if you will commence at the beginning and tell me all about the
case I will go to work at once,” said Nick.
The inspector told Nick all that he knew, from the finding of the first
body.
Nick listened attentively.
When the inspector had finished, Nick said:
“Kindly give me a detailed account of the spot where these men were
found.”
“Are you familiar with the country surrounding Astoria?” asked the
inspector.
“Fairly so.”
“Well, about two miles north of Astoria is an old lane that runs through
a clump of trees----”
“I am familiar with the place,” said Nick.
“Right on the edge of these woods the murdered men were found----”
“That would bring it within a hundred yards of Weeden’s place, the man
who keeps an automobile repair shop.”
“Precisely. I see that you are acquainted with the locality.”
Nick smiled, but did not interrupt.
“You looked as if you thought that Weeden might be mixed up in it when I
mentioned his name,” said the inspector. “It is not possible that you
suspect him?”
“I don’t know. Do you think that he is?” asked Nick.
“Certainly not.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“Because Jack Weeden’s name is above suspicion. His reputation is that
of a sober and industrious man. His neighbors all bear testimony to that
fact.”
“I have seen other men whose neighbors thought that they were above
suspicion, and they afterward found out their mistake,” quietly replied
Nick.
The inspector studied a moment and then asked:
“What do you suggest might have been the object of the murders?”
“That is not an easy question to answer, offhand,” replied Nick.
“You say that a sum of money was found on the body of each. Was the sum
always about the same?”
“No, there were different amounts found on each, on one over three
thousand dollars. It was in a wallet which was in the upper vest pocket
where anyone could see it. There were also about forty-five dollars in
the pocket of the trousers, so that the wallet could have been taken and
there would still have remained a sum sufficient to divert suspicion.”
“At first glance that would remove robbery as a motive for the murders.”
“It certainly does.”
“What do you know about Weeden?” asked Nick.
“Nothing except what I have told you,” replied the inspector.
“Then I will give you a short history of the man that you say bears such
an excellent reputation. I am sure that you will be surprised when you
hear what I have to tell you.”
“I will be pleased to listen, Nick,” said the inspector.
“Fifteen years ago he was convicted of highway robbery in Boston and was
sentenced to five years in prison at hard labor. He served that term.
Two years before that he was sent up for the same offense, that time
serving a year and a month. He had some hold on a man who had friends in
politics, they had his sentence made light, or he would have still been
wearing prison clothes. Besides these he has had several other ‘run ins’
with the police, but somehow has managed to escape. After he had left
the Massachusetts prison it was said that he had sailed for Australia.
That evidently was a blind to throw off the Boston police, who had been
watching him on several other cases.
“Now what do you think of the record of the man that you said enjoyed
the confidence of his neighbors?” asked Nick, as he concluded.
“Are you sure that you are not mistaken in the man?” asked the
inspector. “It hardly seems possible that a man could get such a good
reputation and be the villain that you say he is.”
“I am sure that it is the man.”
Nick then arose from his chair and strolled over to the window.
“Quick, come here!” he cried.
The inspector hurried to the window.
“What is it?” he asked.
Nick pointed to two men who were just passing.
“That is the man of whom you were talking a few minutes ago.”
“Jack Weeden?”
“Yes, that is he. Do you know the other man?” asked Nick.
“No! I do not, I am sure.”
“I do! It is Billy Young, one of the most noted burglars in New York.”
The men were powerfully built fellows.
The appearance of the men was peculiar. Weeden looked like an honest,
hard-working man, while Young looked like a typical thug; his
battle-scarred face bore the marks of dissipation as well as the marks
of numerous encounters.
It was a most remarkable thing that they should be in the locality where
the police had their headquarters; it was evident that they were there
for a purpose. What was it?
“What do you think of your honest workman now?” asked Nick, with his
quiet smile, as the inspector watched the men.
“I guess that, as usual, you are right,” replied the inspector.
“Look! they have seen you from the window and have disappeared,” cried
Nick suddenly.
“Let’s follow them,” said the inspector excitedly.
“No, don’t do it; leave that to me,” said Nick, as he left the room.
Going downstairs, he called to a man who had been waiting for him in the
hall. Whispering a few words into the man’s ear, he nodded in the
direction that the men had taken.
The man left the building on the mission which Nick had given him.
Nick went upstairs to the room where he had left the inspector.
“It is all right,” he said. “I have sent one of my men after them, and
he will find out where they go.”
“Well, what do you want to do now, Nick?” asked the inspector.
“The first thing will be to go to the morgue and see those bodies, and,
if you have no objection, I will bring a young surgeon with me. He is a
very clever chap, and one who can be depended upon to keep his mouth
shut. I hope that there will be no objection to his coming?”
“Not the slightest; this case is in your hands now, and you have full
charge to bring whom you will, and to do as you please.”
“Well, then, let’s be off, as every minute may be valuable.”
Just as they were about to leave the room a great commotion was heard in
the hall, and the sound of excited voices reached their ears.
“I wonder what the racket is all about?” cried the inspector.
At that moment the door burst open and a man, bareheaded, staggered into
the room.