CHAPTER XXXI. — THE GREAT ISBURN RUBY
Mr. Irving Isburn, the proprietor of the great detective bureau was over seventy years of age, and, although he still had a general supervision over the business, and was in his office for a short time anyway, nearly every day, he was leaving the details more and more to his subordinates. From the very beginning Mary Dana had made wonderful improvement in her detective work, and the results of her last case, on which she had been kept in the West for several months, were so satisfactory that she was given practically the entire management of the Bureau.
One day, shortly after her return from the West, Mr. Isburn called her into his private office. He took great interest in electrical inventions, and had one in his office of a decidedly novel design. Back of his office chair, standing against the wall, just behind the door that led into the hallway, was a mahogany bookcase fully seven feet in height. Upon the top were several valuable statuettes, but the most noticeable object was a rosy-cheeked apple. It was not really an apple—only an imitation of one—made of brass. Using the stem as a handle, the upper portion of the apple could be lifted off, forming a cover. The apple was fastened firmly to the top of the bookcase.
While talking over the case in hand with her employer, Miss Dana chanced to fix her eyes upon the brass apple.
“Mr. Isburn, why do you keep that peculiar ornament on the top of your bookcase?”
“Oh, you mean the apple. It contains something that is very valuable. The method of opening it is a secret, but as somebody may succeed in doing so some day I will show you its contents, for otherwise I might be unable to prove that it contained anything.”
He opened a secret drawer in his desk, inserted his forefinger and, apparently, pressed a button. The doors of the bookcase flew open as if by magic, and, at the same time, a bell inside the bookcase rang sharply. Miss Dana watched each motion of her employer intently.
“That is all done by electricity,” said he. “But it does something else—opens the apple.”
He reached up and lifted the cover. Then he removed something from the apple and placed it in Miss Dana's hand.
“Oh, how lovely!” she exclaimed.
It was a ring made of the finest gold and containing an immense ruby.
“That,” said her employer, “I call the Isburn Ruby. It belonged to my mother, and it is precious to me, both on account of its great intrinsic value, and as an heirloom.”
He dropped it into the brass apple, replaced the cover, and shut the doors of the bookcase.
“That cover can only be removed when the bookcase doors are open; they can only be opened by touching the button in the secret drawer in my desk, and, even then, a notice of the opening is given by the electric bell. I think the ruby is well protected, but if anybody steals it I shall call upon you to find the thief.”
Miss Dana said, laughingly, that she feared she would never have a chance to distinguish herself in that direction.
About a fortnight later, Mr. Isburn sat at his desk one morning opening his mail. He was so preoccupied with an interesting letter containing an account of the very mysterious disappearance of a young woman, that he was not aware, for some time, of the presence of a person who stood beside his desk.
He looked up, suddenly, and saw a pretty girl, dressed in picturesque Italian costume, holding a basket filled with roses, pinks, and other cut flowers. Mr. Isburn was passionately fond of flowers and kept a vase filled with them upon his desk. He selected a large bunch of flowers made up of the different kinds.
At that moment the door was opened and a clerk appeared: “Mr. Isburn, there is a call for you on the long distance telephone.”
“I will be back in a moment,” he said to the flower girl, as he went into an adjoining room. The telephone bell was being rung continuously, and he called “Hello” several times before the tintinnabulation ceased.
The call was from a town some fifty miles away. The operator informed him that No. 42 wished her to tell him that she had a valuable clue in case T 697 and would not return for several days. Mr. Isburn knew that No. 42 was Miss Dana.
He returned to his office. The young Italian girl still stood by his desk holding the basket of flowers. He gave her more than the amount she asked for, and, bowing low and smiling, she left the office: Referring to his call index, he found that T 697 was that of a young man, Tarleton, belonging to a wealthy family, who was the buyer for a manufactory of electrical machines. In their construction, a large quantity of platinum was used, a metal more valuable, weight for weight, than gold. His purchases had been very heavy, but a checking up of stock used showed that not half of it had been applied to actual construction. The question was—“What had become of the missing metal?” and that question it was No. 42”s business to answer.
Mr. Isburn was a frequenter of clubs and social functions, partly because he enjoyed them, but, principally, because many valuable clues had been run across while attending them.
He had been invited to be a guest at a reception tendered to an Indian Maharajah. He knew that the East Indian princes were profuse in their use of gems and he decided to wear the ruby, for it was a beautiful stone and would be sure to attract the Maharajah's attention. On opening the brass apple he found, to his astonishment, that the ring was gone. Three days later Miss Dana returned and made her report on the Tarleton case. The young man had stolen the platinum, sold it, and lost the money in speculation. His rich father had made good the company's loss, and there would be no prosecution.
“He'll be a bigger criminal some day,” remarked Mr. Isburn.
“Money saved him,” said Miss Dana. “While I was in the town a workman stole a pound of brass screws—he is a poor inventor and needed them to complete a model, and he got six months in jail.”
“Miss Dana, what punishment would be adequate for the thief who stole my ruby?”
She laughed, and said: “Anybody smart enough to do it, should have a reward.”
“The reward,” said he, “will go to the one who finds and returns it.”
“You are joking, Mr. Isburn.”
“I wish I were. No, it is gone. I cannot imagine how it was possible for any one to get possession of that ring. Only you and I knew how to open the bookcase doors, and I would as soon suspect myself as you.”
“I am glad that you have that opinion,” said Miss Dana. “I have thought several times that I was sorry that you told me about it, for I have felt that if anything happened I should be an object of suspicion.”
“Oh, no,” cried Mr. Isburn. “No such suspicion ever entered my mind. I could not be so mean and ungenerous as to think such a thing. The only person I suspect is an Italian girl who came in here to sell some flowers. It was the day I received the long distance telephone message from you in regard to the Tarleton case. I was only out of the room a few minutes, and when I came back she was standing just where I left her.”
“It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack to find that girl,” said Miss Dana.
“Yes, those Italian girls look very much alike. She was one of medium height, as a great many women are. You are of medium height, Miss Dana, so that is a very poor clue to work upon. She had dark hair.”
“Mine is light,” remarked Miss Dana.
“I did not notice the colour of her eyes—probably black.”
“Mine are blue.”
“Her complexion was dark.”
“Well, I surely have not a dark complexion.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mr. Isburn.
“You talk as though you were, in some way, connected with this affair.”
“But I am.”
“How so?” and Mr. Isburn's voice betrayed his astonishment.
“Don't you remember saying if the ring was lost or stolen that you should call upon me to recover it?”
“Why, yes, I do remember. If you find it, you shall have a big reward. If found, I am going to give the ring to a young lady.”
“Who is she? Pardon my hasty inquisitiveness.”
“My niece, Rose Isburn. She is my only brother's daughter. He has just died and left her in my charge. Nothing has happened since I began my professional career that has so puzzled and disgusted me as the loss of that ring. I thought myself acute, and I am outwitted by a chit of a girl. I think I'll sell out, take my niece to Europe and marry her off to a Prince or a Duke.”
“Don't do it!” laughed Miss Dana. “Leave her your money, and let her choose some honest, clean, young American.”
“Well, I think you are right,” answered Mr. Isburn, laughing at Mary's half serious, half comic air, “but I must first sell my business. Will you find me a purchaser? I want to travel, and loaf the rest of my life. I've had my fill of adventure and excitement.”
“Perhaps you can find a purchaser while I'm finding the ring. As you say, your description of her is very meagre. But she was a flower girl and that is one point gained.”
“But she may be selling oranges or dragging a hand-organ to-day.”
“True,” replied Miss Dana, “and she may be selling flowers again to-morrow,” and the conversation dropped.
About a week later, Miss Dana entered Mr. Isburn's private office. There was a smile upon her face, as she cried:
“I have been successful!”
“You usually are,” Mr. Isburn remarked, not comprehending to what she alluded.
“You will be somewhat surprised, no doubt, when I tell you—that I have recovered the ruby!”
Mr. Isburn sprang to his feet.
“I know that you are a truthful young woman, Miss Dana, but, pardon me, I shall disbelieve your statement, until the ruby is once more in my hands.”
“I have not only recovered the ruby, but I have induced the Italian girl who took it—”
“By George!” cried Isburn, “I always suspected her.”
“I have induced the culprit, Mr. Isburn, to come here and place it in your hands.”
“Well, you're a wonder, Miss Dana. You should give up being a detective and become a teacher of morals.”
Miss Dana ignored his suggestion. “I have her in my office and the door is locked. You see, I have the key here,” and she held it up for his inspection.
“She is quite overcome at being discovered. I am going to talk with her for a few minutes. You may come, say, in ten minutes. The door will be unlocked if she is ready. I shall be with her to witness the restitution of your property.”
Never did ten minutes pass so slowly as did those to Mr. Isburn. He placed his watch upon his desk and watched each minute as it slowly ticked away. When the time was up, he went to the door of Miss Dana's office. He turned the knob—the door opened at a slight pressure, and he entered. In a chair by the window, with her head bowed, sat a young Italian girl. As Isburn approached her; he glanced about the room, but Miss Dana was not present.
“Signorita,” he said, “I am informed that you have come to restore the ring which you took from me.” Then he noticed by her side was the same basket in which she had brought the flowers, but this time it was empty.
She rose to her feet and looked into his eyes with a glance of mute appeal. She took up the basket, and walked towards the door, beckoning to him to follow. Without resenting the incongruity of the situation, he did so. They passed through the hallway and into his private office.
She lifted the cover of one side of the basket and took from it a small parcel. She removed the tissue paper disclosing a bunch of cotton wool. From this she extracted the jewel that he prized so highly.
He reached forward to take it, but she drew back. She first shut down the cover of the basket. Then she went to the desk, opened the private drawer and pressed the button. The bookcase doors flew open. Her next move was to place the basket in front of the bookcase. Stepping upon it, which enabled her to reach the apple, she removed the cover, and dropped the ring into its receptacle, replaced the cover, stepped down and took up her basket, then closed the bookcase doors.
“And that's how you did it,” ejaculated Isburn, greatly astonished at her coolness and audacity. “But how did you find out how to open the bookcase doors?”
“You told me,” said the girl in good English, the first words she had spoken.
“I told you?” he cried.
The Italian girl had a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
“Have you forgotten the old adage, Mr. Isburn, that it is a good plan to set a thief to catch a thief?”
Isburn sank into a chair. “Can I believe my ears? Miss Dana?”
“Exactly,” said the young woman. “This is one of my make-ups. This is what I wore when I discovered the clue that led to the arrest of Corona in that Italian murder case.”
“But I don't understand yet,” cried Isburn. “How could you be here as an Italian flower girl when you telephoned me from a place more than fifty miles away?”
“Money will do a great deal,” replied Miss Dana, “but you must tell your subordinates what to do for the money. I induced the operator in that little country town to give you to understand that I was still there. The fact was, I left the noon before, located young Tarleton, turned him over to the police, and was in the city by 8 o'clock. I told the operator to keep on ringing until you came for you were very deaf. Pardon me for that, but I was afraid you would hear the bell when the bookcase doors opened. Now, you know all, and I await my discharge.”
Mr. Isburn looked serious. “Miss Dana, I see but one matter to be arranged now, and that is your half-interest in the business. You know I told you that if you found the ruby I would take you as a partner.”
“Oh, that's all a joke,” cried Miss Dana. “What I did was for fun. I only wished to show you how the thing could be done, and I beg your pardon for causing you so many hours of uneasiness on account of the supposed loss of your valuable ring.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Isburn, “I feel as though you should make some atonement for the disquietude you have caused me. I shall insist upon going to Europe with Rose, and you must manage the business while we are gone, as full partner.”
“The staff won't take orders from a woman.”
“Yes, they will, if you tell them how you fooled me. If they object then, call for their resignations and engage a new force.”