An Artist in Crime

by Rodrigues Ottolengui

"Entirely. You have won fairly, and I have a check for the amount with me, which you must accept with my congratulations upon your success."

"I thank you very much," said Mr. Mitchel, taking the check; "I take this because I have immediate use for it, as you will learn directly. Now I must tell you the true story of the other robbery."

At this all were very much astonished. Mr. Thauret appeared a trifle nervous. He placed one hand over the top of his claret glass, and let it rest there a moment, after first having taken a sip from it.

"You all recall the fact that I was sick in Philadelphia," continued Mr. Mitchel, "at the time of the Ali Baba festival. I flatter myself that that was the most artistic thing that I have done throughout this whole affair. Any one seeing me would have been satisfied that I was truly ill, yet, in point of fact, my cough was brought on by drugs administered to me by my physician at my express desire, and for purposes which I had explained to him. I guessed that I had been followed to Philadelphia, and took care that I should not be too closely watched, as Mr. Barnes knows. Yet I expected that after the affair, Mr. Barnes himself would come to Philadelphia to see me, and my artificially-produced illness was to baffle him. But I am anticipating events. After the train robbery the woman was murdered. By what seemed an odd chance she was in the same house where my wife then lived. I knew that I had been followed from the theatre to that house on the night of the murder. I knew that other circumstances pointed strongly to my guilt. But I had the advantage over the detective, for I knew that the man who had stolen the jewels from the woman, not finding them when he returned to New Haven, must have been furious. Judging the woman by himself, he would suppose that at least it was possible that she had taken them from the satchel herself. Then on that slim chance might he not have returned to the woman, and, admitting the theft of the satchel, have endeavored to make her confess that she still had the jewels? Failing in this, might he not either in a fit of anger or to prevent her from 'peaching,' as they call it, have cut her throat?"

"You are wrong there, Mr. Mitchel," said the detective. "The woman was killed whilst she slept. There was no struggle."

"Even so, we can imagine the sneak going into the house and killing her that he might search for the gems undisturbed, and also to rid himself of a companion for whom he no longer had any need. At least, that was the view that I took of it, and, more than that, I felt convinced that I knew the man."

At this moment, Mr. Thauret nervously reached forth his hand towards his glass of wine, but before he could get it Mr. Barnes had taken it up and drained it to the bottom. Mr. Thauret seemed livid with wrath, and a dramatic incident occurred, unobserved by the rest of the company. Mr. Thauret turned towards Mr. Barnes and seemed on the point of making a demonstration, when that gentleman just tipped back his chair slightly, and meaningly exposed to the view of his neighbor the gleaming barrel of a revolver, which he held in his hand below the table. This only occupied a moment, and immediately afterwards both men seemed, like the others, simply interested listeners to the narrative.

"When I say that I thought that I knew the man," continued Mr. Mitchel, "I make a statement which it may interest you to have me explain. In the first place, I saw the fellow who hid the satchel at the New Haven depot. Still I obtained but a momentary glimpse of his face, and would not have been sure of identifying him. I will call your attention now to the fact that very slight incidents sometimes lead the mind into a suspicion, which, followed up, may elucidate a mystery. Prior to the train robbery I had met a man at my club one night, or rather I had seen him playing a card game, and I conceived the notion that the fellow was cheating. Within a few days of the robbery I met this man again, on which occasion Mr. Barnes was present, and an interesting conversation occurred. I was standing aside, pretending to be otherwise engaged, but really puzzling over the face of this man, which now seemed to me strikingly familiar. Of course I had seen him at the club, yet despite me, there was an intuitive feeling that I had seen him elsewhere also. In a moment I heard him admit that he had been aboard of the train on the night of the robbery, and that he had been the first one searched. Awhile later he offered to wager Mr. Barnes that various theories which had been advanced as to the thief's method of secreting the jewels, were all erroneous. This one remark satisfied me that the thief stood before me. I had not then heard of the murder. Now it must be remembered that I was ensnared in the meshes of circumstantial evidence myself, so that, besides any duty that I might owe to society, it became of vital importance to my own safety that I should be in a position to prove this man guilty. I formed a rather bold plan. I made a friend of the fellow. I invited him to my room one night, and then accused him of having cheated at the card game. He at first assumed a threatening attitude, but I retained my composure, and perhaps startled him by proposing to form a partnership by which we could fleece the rich club men. I hinted to him that I really possessed less money than I am credited with, and that what I did have I had taken at the tables on the Continent. He then admitted that he had a 'system,' and from that time we posed as good friends, though I do not think he ever fully trusted me. I learned from him that his partner in the game where I caught him cheating was entirely innocent, and made him promise not to play with him again, for I had discovered that the detectives had been told of this game, and therefore knew that they would be watching both men when playing cards. I preferred to be the partner myself upon such occasions. Having somewhat won the fellow's confidence, I was ready for my great scheme in baffling the detective so that I might win my wager, and at the same time entrap my suspect. I had conceived the Ali Baba festival. I showed Mr. Barnes one day the ruby which I afterwards presented to my wife. At the same time I told him, that if he should come to the conclusion that I was innocent of the train robbery, he might as well remember that I would still have to commit the crime as agreed upon. Then I arranged that the festival should occur on New Year's night, the very day on which my month would expire. I knew that all this would lead the detective to believe that I meant to rob my fiancée, a crime for which I might readily have escaped punishment, with her assistance. There he misjudged me. I would not for treble the sum have had her name mixed up in such a transaction. She knew absolutely nothing of my intentions, though being at that time in ignorance of the details of the train robbery, I left her mind in a condition not to offer resistance to the thief, who she might suppose to be myself. Then, after laying my trap, at the last moment, I baited it by asking my fiancée to wear the ruby pin in her hair. I went to Philadelphia, and feigned sickness. Then I eluded the spy and came on myself. Mr. Barnes I supposed would be present, and I had arranged so that if so, he would necessarily be in one of the dominos of the forty thieves. I had invited my suspect to assume the role of Ali Baba, but he shrewdly persuaded some one else to take the costume, himself donning one of the Forty Thieves' dresses. This compelled me to go around speaking to every one so disguised, and to my satisfaction, by their voices, I discovered my man and also Mr. Barnes. In the final tableau, Mr. Barnes, who evidently was watching Ali Baba, attempted to get near him, and by chance was immediately behind my man. Fearing that he would interfere with my plans, I fell in just behind him. My design was to tempt the fellow to steal the ruby, which, if he did, would satisfy at least myself that my suspicions were correct. It was, perhaps, a mad scheme, but it succeeded. I had so arranged that every one should pass the Sultan and make obeisance. In doing this, as my fiancée was seated on the floor, the ruby in her hair would be just at hand, and one who knew its high value could easily take it. I fully expected my man to do this, and I saw him gently withdraw it. Immediately Mr. Barnes stepped forward to seize him, but I held the detective from behind, then threw him into the advancing crowd, and, in the confusion, escaped from the house."

Mr. Mitchel paused, and silence prevailed. All felt, rather than knew, that a tragedy might be at hand. Mr. Thauret however, in a moment said: