_Indicates Murder._
Mr. Barnes rushed out of the hotel, and, quickly finding a cab,
instructed the man to drive rapidly to the Morgue. On the way, he read
the details of the crime as recounted in the newspaper. From this he
gathered that the body had been discovered early in the morning by two
boatmen, who towed it to shore and handed it over to the police. An
examination at the Morgue had established the identity by letters found
on the corpse and the initials marked on the clothing. Mr. Barnes was
sad at heart, and inwardly fretted because his friend had not asked his
aid when in danger.
Jumping from the cab almost before it had fully stopped in front of the
Morgue, he stumbled and nearly fell over a decrepit-looking beggar, upon
whose breast was a printed card soliciting alms for the blind. Mr.
Barnes dropped a coin, a silver quarter, into his outstretched palm, and
hurried into the building. As he did so he was jostled by a tall man who
was coming out, and who seemed to have lost his temper, as he muttered
an imprecation under his breath in Spanish. As the detective's keen ear
noted the foreign tongue an idea occurred to him which made him turn and
follow the stranger. When he reached the street again he received a
double surprise. The stranger had already signalled the cab which Mr.
Barnes had just left, and was entering it, so that he had only a moment
in which to observe him. Then the door was slammed, and the driver
whipped up his horses and drove rapidly away. At the same moment the
blind beggar jumped up, and ran in the direction taken by the cab. Mr.
Barnes watched them till both cab and beggar disappeared around the next
corner, and then he went into the building again, deeply thinking over
the episode.
He found the Morgue-keeper, and was taken to the corpse. He recognized
the clothing at once, both from the description given by Williams, and
because he now remembered to have seen Mr. Mitchel so dressed. It was
evident that the body had been in the water for several days, and the
marks of violence plainly pointed to murder. Still sticking in the back
was a curious dagger of foreign make, the handle projecting between the
shoulders. The blow must have been a powerful stroke, for the blade was
so tightly wedged in the bones of the spine that it resisted ordinary
efforts to withdraw it. Moreover, the condition of the head showed that
a crime had been committed, for the skull and face had been beaten into
a pulpy mass with some heavy instrument. Mr. Barnes turned away from the
sickening sight to examine the letters found upon the corpse. One of
these bore the Paris postmark, and he was allowed to read it. It was
from the jewellers, and was the letter alluded to in the warning cable.
Its contents were:
"DEAR SIR:--
"As we have previously advised you the Montezuma Emerald was
shipped to you on the tenth instant. On the following day
the man from whom we had bought it was found dead in Dover
Street, London, killed by a dagger-thrust between the
shoulders. The meagre accounts telegraphed to the papers
here, state that there is no clue to the assassin. We were
struck by the name, and remembered that the deceased had
urged us to buy the emerald, because, as he declared, he
feared that a man had followed him from Mexico, intending to
murder him to get possession of it. Within an hour of
reading the newspaper story, a gentlemanly looking man,
giving the name of Miguel Palma, entered our store, and
asked if we had purchased the Montezuma Emerald. We replied
negatively, and he smiled and left. We notified the police,
but they have not yet been able to find this man. We deemed
it our duty to warn you, and did so by cable."
The signature was that of the firm from which Mr. Barnes had received
the cable in the morning. The plot seemed plain enough now. After the
fruitless murder of the man in London, the Mexican had traced the
emerald to Mr. Mitchel, and had followed it across the water. Had he
succeeded in obtaining it? Among the things found on the corpse was an
empty jewel-case, bearing the name of the Paris firm. It seemed from
this that the gem had been stolen. But, if so, this man, Miguel Palma,
must be made to explain his knowledge of the affair.
Once more visiting the Imperial, Mr. Barnes made inquiry, and was told
that Mr. Palma had left the hotel on the night of the previous Thursday,
which was just a few hours before Mr. Mitchel had undoubtedly reached
there alive. Could it be that the man at the Morgue had been he? If so,
why was he visiting that place to view the body of his victim? This was
a problem over which Mr. Barnes puzzled, as he was driven up to the
residence of Mr. Mitchel. Here he found Williams, and imparted to that
faithful servant the news of his master's death, and then inquired for
the address of the family abroad, that he might notify them by cable,
before they could read the bald statement in a newspaper.
"As they only sailed a week ago to-day," said Williams, "they're hardly
more than due in London. I'll go up to the master's desk and get the
address of his London bankers."
As Williams turned to leave the room, he started back amazed at the
sound of a bell.
"That's the master's bell, Inspector! Some one is in his room! Come with
me!"
The two men bounded up-stairs, two steps at a time, and Williams threw
open the door of Mr. Mitchel's boudoir, and then fell back against Mr.
Barnes, crying:
"The master himself!"
Mr. Barnes looked over the man's shoulder, and could scarcely believe
his eyes when he observed Mr. Mitchel, alive and well, brushing his hair
before a mirror.
"I've rung for you twice, Williams," said Mr. Mitchel, and then, seeing
Mr. Barnes, he added, "Ah, Mr. Barnes. You are very welcome. Come in.
Why, what is the matter, man? You are as white as though you had seen a
ghost."
"Thank God, you are safe!" fervently ejaculated the detective, going
forward and grasping Mr. Mitchel's hand. "Here, read this, and you will
understand." He drew out the afternoon paper and handed it to him.
"Oh, that," said Mr. Mitchel, carelessly. "I've read that. Merely a
sensational lie, worked off upon a guileless public. Not a word of truth
in it, I assure you."
"Of course not, since you are alive; but there is a mystery about this
which is yet to be explained."
"What! A mystery, and the great Mr. Barnes has not solved it? I am
surprised. I am, indeed. But then, you know, I told you after Goldie
made a fizzle of our little joke that if I should choose to play the
principal part you would not catch me. You see I have beaten you this
time. Confess. You thought that was my corpse which you gazed upon at
the Morgue?"
"Well," said Mr. Barnes, reluctantly, "the identification certainly
seemed complete, in spite of the condition of the face, which made
recognition impossible."
"Yes; I flatter myself the whole affair was artistic."
"Do you mean that this whole thing is nothing but a joke? That you went
so far as to invent cables and letters from Paris just for the trifling
amusement of making a fool of me?"
Mr. Barnes was evidently slightly angry, and Mr. Mitchel, noting this
fact, hastened to mollify him.
"No, no; it is not quite so bad as that," he said. "I must tell you the
whole story, for there is yet important work to do, and you must help
me. No, Williams, you need not go out. Your anxiety over my absence
entitles you to a knowledge of the truth. A short time ago I heard that
a very rare gem was in the market, no less a stone than the original
emerald which Cortez stole from the crown of Montezuma. The emerald was
offered in Paris, and I was notified at once by the dealer, and
authorized the purchase by cable. A few days later I received a despatch
warning me that there was danger. I understood at once, for similar
danger had lurked about other large stones which are now in my
collection. The warning meant that I should not attempt to get the
emerald from the Custom-House until further advices reached me, which
would indicate the exact nature of the danger. Later, I received the
letter which was found on the body now at the Morgue, and which I
suppose you have read?"
Mr. Barnes nodded assent.
"I readily located the man Palma at the Imperial, and from his openly
using his name I knew that I had a dangerous adversary. Criminals who
disdain aliases have brains, and use them. I kept away from the
Custom-House until I had satisfied myself that I was being dogged by a
veritable cutthroat, who, of course, was the tool hired by Palma to
rob, perhaps to kill me. Thus acquainted with my adversaries, I was
ready for the enterprise."
"Why did you not solicit my assistance?" asked Mr. Barnes.
"Partly because I wanted all the glory, and partly because I saw a
chance to make you admit that I am still the champion detective-baffler.
I sent my wife and daughter to Europe that I might have time for my
scheme. On the day after their departure I boldly went to the
Custom-House and obtained the emerald. Of course I was dogged by the
hireling, but I had arranged a plan which gave him no advantage over me.
I had constructed a pair of goggles which looked like simple smoked
glasses, but in one of these I had a little mirror so arranged that I
could easily watch the man behind me, should he approach too near.
However, I was sure that he would not attack me in a crowded
thoroughfare, and I kept in crowds until time for dinner, when, by
appointment, I met my neighbor Mordaunt, and remained in his company
until I reached my own doorway late at night. Here he left me, and I
stood on the stoop until he disappeared into his own house. Then I
turned, and apparently had much trouble to place my latch-key in the
lock. This offered the assassin the chance he had hoped for, and,
gliding stealthily forward, he made a vicious stab at me. But, in the
first place, I had put on a chain-armor vest, and, in the second,
expecting the attack to occur just as it did, I turned swiftly and with
one blow with a club I knocked the weapon from the fellow's hand, and
with another I struck him over the head so that he fell senseless at my
feet."
"Bravo!" cried Mr. Barnes. "You have a cool nerve."
"I don't know. I think I was very much excited at the crucial moment,
but with my chain armor, a stout loaded club in one hand and a derringer
in the other, I never was in any real danger. I took the man down to the
wine-cellar and locked him in one of the vaults. Then I called a cab,
and went down to the Imperial, in search of Palma; but I was too late.
He had vanished."
"So I discovered," interjected Mr. Barnes.
"I could get nothing out of the fellow in the cellar. Either he cannot
or he will not speak English. So I have merely kept him a prisoner,
visiting him at midnight only, to avoid Williams, and giving him rations
for another day. Meanwhile, I disguised myself and looked for Palma. I
could not find him. I had another card, however, and the time came at
last to play it. I deduced from Palma's leaving the hotel on the very
day when I took the emerald from the Custom-House, that it was
prearranged that his hireling should stick to me until he obtained the
gem, and then meet him at some rendezvous, previously appointed. Hearing
nothing during the past few days, he has perhaps thought that I had left
the city, and that his man was still upon my track. Meanwhile I was
perfecting my grand _coup_. With the aid of a physician, who is a
confidential friend, I obtained a corpse from one of the hospitals, a
man about my size, whose face we battered beyond description. We dressed
him in my clothing, and fixed the dagger which I had taken from my
would-be assassin so tightly in the backbone that it would not drop out.
Then one night we took our dummy to the river and securely anchored it
in the water. Last night I simply cut it loose and let it drift down the
river."
"You knew of course that it would be taken to the Morgue," said Mr.
Barnes.
"Precisely. Then I dressed myself as a blind beggar, posted myself in
front of the Morgue, and waited."
"You were the beggar?" ejaculated the detective.
"Yes. I have your quarter, and shall prize it as a souvenir. Indeed, I
made nearly four dollars during the day. Begging seems to be lucrative.
After the newspapers got on the street with the account of my death, I
looked for developments. Palma came in due time, and went in. I presume
that he saw the dagger, which was placed there for his special benefit,
as well as the empty jewel-case, and at once concluded that his man had
stolen the gem and meant to keep it for himself. Under these
circumstances he would naturally be angry, and therefore less cautious
and more easily shadowed. Before he came out, you turned up and stupidly
brought a cab, which allowed my man to get a start of me. However, I am
a good runner, and as he only rode as far as Third Avenue, and then took
the elevated railroad, I easily followed him to his lair. Now I will
explain to you what I wish you to do, if I may count on you?"
"Assuredly."
"You must go into the street, and when I release the man in the cellar,
you must track him. I will go to the other place, and we will see what
happens when the men meet. We will both be there to see the fun."
An hour later, Mr. Barnes was skilfully dogging a sneaking Mexican, who
walked rapidly through one of the lowest streets on the East Side, until
finally he dodged into a blind alley, and before the detective could
make sure which of the many doors had allowed him ingress he had
disappeared. A moment later a low whistle attracted his attention, and
across in a doorway he saw a figure which beckoned to him. He went over
and found Mr. Mitchel.
"Palma is here. I have seen him. You see I was right. This is the place
of appointment, and the cutthroat has come here straight. Hush! What was
that?"
There was a shriek, followed by another, and then silence.
"Let us go up," said Mr. Barnes. "Do you know which door?"
"Yes; follow me."
Mr. Mitchel started across, but, just as they reached the door,
footsteps were heard rapidly descending the stairs. Both men stood aside
and waited. A minute later a cloaked figure bounded out, only to be
gripped instantly by those in hiding. It was Palma, and he fought like a
demon, but the long, powerful arms of Mr. Barnes encircled him, and,
with a hug that would have made a bear envious, the scoundrel was soon
subdued. Mr. Barnes then manacled him, while Mr. Mitchel ascended the
stairs to see about the other man. He lay sprawling on the floor, face
downward, stabbed in the heart.
V