NICK CARTER STORIES
New Magnet Library
Not a Dull Book in This List
ALL BY NICHOLAS CARTER
Nick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact that the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to the work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced no other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation of new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly from all sorts of troubles and landed the criminal just where he should be—behind the bars.
The author of these stories knew more about writing detective stories than any other single person.
Following is a list of the best Nick Carter stories. They have been selected with extreme care, and we unhesitatingly recommend each of them as being fully as interesting as any detective story between cloth covers which sells at ten times the price.
If you do not know Nick Carter, buy a copy of any of the New Magnet Library books, and get acquainted. He will surprise and delight you.
| ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT | |
|---|---|
| 850—Wanted: A Clew 851—A Tangled Skein 852—The Bullion Mystery 853—The Man of Riddles 854—A Miscarriage of Justice 855—The Gloved Hand 856—Spoilers and the Spoils 857—The Deeper Game 858—Bolts from Blue Skies 859—Unseen Foes 860—Knaves in High Places 861—The Microbe of Crime 862—In the Toils of Fear 863—A Heritage of Trouble 864—Called to Account 865—The Just and the Unjust 866—Instinct at Fault 867—A Rogue Worth Trapping 868—A Rope of Slender Threads 869—The Last Call 870—The Spoils of Chance 871—A Struggle with Destiny 872—The Slave of Crime 873—The Crook’s Blind 874—A Rascal of Quality 875—With Shackles of Fire 876—The Man Who Changed Faces 877—The Fixed Alibi 878—Out with the Tide 879—The Soul Destroyers 880—The Wages of Rascality 881—Birds of Prey 882—When Destruction Threatens 883—The Keeper of Black Hounds 884—The Door of Doubt 885—The Wolf Within 886—A Perilous Parole 887—The Trail of the Finger Prints 888—Dodging the Law 889—A Crime in Paradise 890—On the Ragged Edge 891—The Red God of Tragedy 892—The Man Who Paid 893—The Blind Man’s Daughter 894—One Object in Life 895—As a Crook Sows 896—In Record Time 897—Held in Suspense 898—The $100,000 Kiss 899—Just One Slip 900—On a Million-dollar Trail 901—A Weird Treasure 902—The Middle Link 903—To the Ends of the Earth 904—When Honors Pall 905—The Yellow Brand 906—A New Serpent in Eden 907—When Brave Men Tremble 908—A Test of Courage 909—Where Peril Beckons 910—The Gargoni Girdle 911—Rascals & Co. 912—Too Late to Talk 913—Satan’s Apt Pupil 914—The Girl Prisoner 915—The Danger of Folly 916—One Shipwreck Too Many 917—Scourged by Fear 918—The Red Plague 919—Scoundrels Rampant 920—From Clew to Clew 921—When Rogues Conspire 922—Twelve in a Grave 923—The Great Opium Case 924—A Conspiracy of Rumors 925—A Klondike Claim 926—The Evil Formula 927—The Man of Many Faces 928—The Great Enigma 929—The Burden of Proof 930—The Stolen Brain 931—A Titled Counterfeiter 932—The Magic Necklace 933—Round the World for a Quarter 934—Over the Edge of the World 935—In the Grip of Fate 936—The Case of Many Clews 937—The Sealed Door 938—Nick Carter and the Green Goods Men 939—The Man Without a Will 940—Tracked Across the Atlantic 941—A Clew from the Unknown 942—The Crime of a Countess 943—A Mixed-up Mess 944—The Great Money-order Swindle 945—The Adder’s Brood 946—A Wall Street Haul 947—For a Pawned Crown 948—Sealed Orders 949—The Hate that Kills 950—The American Marquis 951—The Needy Nine 952—Fighting Against Millions 953—Outlaws of the Blue 954—The Old Detective’s Pupil 955—Found in the Jungle 956—The Mysterious Mall Robbery 957—Broken Bars 958—A Fair Criminal 959—Won by Magic 960—The Piano Box Mystery 961—The Man They Held Back 962—A Millionaire Partner 963—A Pressing Peril 964—An Australian Klondike 965—The Sultan’s Pearls 966—The Double Shuffle Club 967—Paying the Price 968—A Woman’s Hand 969—A Network of Crime 970—At Thompson’s Ranch 971—The Crossed Needles 972—The Diamond Mine Case 973—Blood Will Tell 974—An Accidental Password 975—The Crook’s Double 976—Two Plus Two 977—The Yellow Label 978—The Clever Celestial 979—The Amphitheater Plot 980—Gideon Drexel’s Millions 981—Death In Life 982—A Stolen Identity 983—Evidence by Telephone 984—The Twelve Tin Boxes 985—Clew Against Clew 986—Lady Velvet 987—Playing a Bold Game 988—A Dead Man’s Grip 989—Snarled Identities 990—A Deposit Vault Puzzle 991—The Crescent Brotherhood 992—The Stolen Pay Train 993—The Sea Fox 994—Wanted by Two Clients 995—The Van Alstine Case 996—Check No. 777 997—Partners in Peril 998—Nick Carter’s Clever Protégé 999—The Sign of the Crossed Knives 1000—The Man Who Vanished 1001—A Battle for the Right 1002—A Game of Craft 1003—Nick Carter’s Retainer 1004—Caught in the Tolls 1005—A Broken Bond 1006—The Crime of the French Café 1007—The Man Who Stole Millions 1008—The Twelve Wise Men 1009—Hidden Foes 1010—A Gamblers’ Syndicate 1011—A Chance Discovery 1012—Among the Counterfeiters 1013—A Threefold Disappearance 1014—At Odds with Scotland Yard 1015—A Princess of Crime 1016—Found on the Beach 1017—A Spinner of Death | 1018—The Detective’s Pretty Neighbor 1019—A Bogus Clew 1020—The Puzzle of Five Pistols 1021—The Secret of the Marble Mantel 1022—A Bite of an Apple 1023—A Triple Crime 1024—The Stolen Race Horse 1025—Wildfire 1026—A Herald Personal 1027—The Finger of Suspicion 1028—The Crimson Clew 1029—Nick Carter Down East 1030—The Chain of Clews 1031—A Victim of Circumstances 1032—Brought to Bay 1033—The Dynamite Trap 1034—A Scrap of Black Lace 1035—The Woman of Evil 1036—A Legacy of Hate 1037—A Trusted Rogue 1038—Man Against Man 1039—The Demons of the Night 1040—The Brotherhood of Death 1041—At the Knife’s Point 1042—A Cry for Help 1043—A Stroke of Policy 1044—Hounded to Death 1045—A Bargain in Crime 1046—The Fatal Prescription 1047—The Man of Iron 1048—An Amazing Scoundrel 1049—The Chain of Evidence 1050—Paid with Death 1051—A Fight for a Throne 1052—The Woman of Steel 1053—The Seal of Death 1054—The Human Fiend 1055—A Desperate Chance 1056—A Chase in the Dark 1057—The Snare and the Game 1058—The Murray Hill Mystery 1059—Nick Carter’s Close Call 1060—The Missing Cotton King 1061—A Game of Plots 1062—The Prince of Liars 1063—The Man at the Window 1064—The Red League 1065—The Price of a Secret 1066—The Worst Case on Record 1067—From Peril to Peril 1068—The Seal of Silence 1069—Nick Carter’s Chinese Puzzle 1070—A Blackmailer’s Bluff 1071—Heard in the Dark 1072—A Checkmated Scoundrel 1073—The Cashier’s Secret 1074—Behind a Mask 1075—The Cloak of Guilt 1076—Two Villains in One 1077—The Hot Air Clew 1078—Run to Earth 1070—The Certified Check 1080—Weaving the Web 1081—Beyond Pursuit 1082—The Claws of the Tiger 1083—Driven from Cover 1084—A Deal in Diamonds 1085—The Wizard of the Cue 1086—A Race for Ten Thousand 1087—The Criminal Link 1088—The Red Signal 1089—The Secret Panel 1090—A Bonded Villain 1091—A Move in the Dark 1092—Against Desperate Odds 1093—The Telltale Photographs 1094—The Ruby Pin 1095—The Queen of Diamonds 1096—A Broken Trail 1097—An Ingenious Stratagem 1098—A Sharper’s Downfall 1099—A Race Track Gamble 1100—Without a Clew 1101—The Council of Death 1102—The Hole in the Vault 1103—In Death’s Grip 1104—A Great Conspiracy 1105—The Guilty Governor 1106—A Ring of Rascals 1107—A Masterpiece of Crime 1108—A Blow for Vengeance 1109—Tangled Threads 1110—The Crime of the Camera 1111—The Sign of the Dagger 1112—Nick Carter’s Promise 1113—Marked for Death 1114—The Limited Holdup 1115—When the Trap Was Sprung 1116—Through the Cellar Wall 1117—Under the Tiger’s Claws 1118—The Girl in the Case 1119—Behind a Throne 1120—The Lure of Gold 1121—Hand to Hand 1122—From a Prison Cell 1123—Dr. Quartz, Magician 1124—Into Nick Carter’s Web 1125—The Mystic Diagram 1126—The Hand that Won 1127—Playing a Lone Hand 1128—The Master Villain 1129—The False Claimant 1130—The Living Mask 1131—The Crime and the Motive 1132—A Mysterious Foe 1133—A Missing Man 1134—A Game Well Played 1135—A Cigarette Clew 1136—The Diamond Trail 1137—The Silent Guardian 1138—The Dead Stranger 1140—The Doctor’s Stratagem 1141—Following a Chance Clew 1142—The Bank Draft Puzzle 1143—The Price of Treachery 1144—The Silent Partner 1145—Ahead of the Game 1146—A Trap of Tangled Wire 1147—In the Gloom of Night 1148—The Unaccountable Crook 1149—A Bundle of Clews 1150—The Great Diamond Syndicate 1151—The Death Circle 1152—The Toss of a Penny 1153—One Step Too Far 1154—The Terrible Thirteen 1155—A Detective’s Theory 1156—Nick Carter’s Auto Trail 1157—A Triple Identity 1158—A Mysterious Graft 1159—A Carnival of Crime 1160—The Bloodstone Terror 1161—Trapped in His Own Net 1162—The Last Move in the Game 1163—A Victim of Deceit 1164—With Links of Steel 1165—A Plaything of Fate 1166—The Key King Clew 1167—Playing for a Fortune 1168—At Mystery’s Threshold 1169—Trapped by a Woman 1170—The Four Fingered Glove 1171—Nabob and Knave 1172—The Broadway Cross 1173—The Man Without a Conscience 1174—A Master of Deviltry 1175—Nick Carter’s Double Catch 1176—Doctor Quartz’s Quick Move 1177—The Vial of Death 1178—Nick Carter’s Star Pupils 1179—Nick Carter’s Girl Detective 1180—A Baffled Oath 1181—A Royal Thief 1182—Down and Out 1183—A Syndicate of Rascals 1184—Played to a Finish 1185—A Tangled Case 1186—In Letters of Fire |
In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance promptly, on account of delays in transportation.
| To be published in July, 1926. | |
| 1187—Crossed Wires | 1188—A Plot Uncovered |
| To be published In August, 1926. | |
| 1189—The Cab Driver’s Secret | 1190—Nick Carter’s Death Warrant |
| To be published In September, 1926. | |
| 1191—The Plot that Failed 1192—Nick Carter’s Masterpiece | 1193—A Prince of Rogues |
| To be published in October, 1926. | |
| 1194—In the Lap of Danger | 1195—The Man from London |
| To be published in November, 1926. | |
| 1196—Circumstantial Evidence | 1197—The Pretty Stenographer Mystery |
| To be published in December, 1926. | |
| 1198—A Villainous Scheme | 1199—A Plot Within a Plot |
Following a Chance Clew
OR,
NICK CARTER’S LUCKY FIND
BY
NICHOLAS CARTER
Author of the celebrated stories of Nick Carter’s adventures,
which are published exclusively in the New Magnet Library,
conceded to be among the best detective tales ever written.
STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
PUBLISHERS
79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York
Copyright, 1899, 1900 and 1904
By STREET & SMITH
——
Following a Chance Clew
(Printed in the United States of America)
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian.
FOLLOWING A CHANCE CLEW.
CHAPTER I.
ON A SEPTEMBER NIGHT.
“Nathan Lusker.”
Nick Carter read the sign over the jeweler’s store on Eighth Avenue and stopped to glance critically at the place.
He noticed that the “regulator” indicated midnight.
His thoughts flew back to another midnight earlier in the week, when Lusker’s store had been cleaned out by burglars.
The robbery had been charged to a mysterious crook known as Doc Helstone, who was supposed to be the leader of a clever gang of lawbreakers.
Nick had been asked to break up this gang, which had baffled some of the best men of Inspector McLaughlin’s staff. A proposition had been made to him that day, and he had promised an answer on the morrow.
Probably he would have decided to refuse the job, for he had a lot of work on hand; but, as he strolled up the avenue on that September night, an adventure was waiting for him which was to alter his purpose, and set him upon the track of a remarkable scoundrel.
Lusker’s place was nearly in the middle of a block. As Nick turned his eyes away from the window, he noticed, on the street corner beyond, a group of about a dozen men and women.
There was nothing unusual about them except that they were all looking one way. Their attention had evidently been strongly attracted by something which was taking place on the side street, to the westward.
Suddenly they all hurried in that direction. Other persons, attracted by this movement, joined in it.
All whom Nick could see were hastening toward this center of interest—all, except one man, who was walking the other way.
This man came out of the street wherein the crowd was gathering, and turned up the avenue. Nick saw him for only a moment, and at a considerable distance, but he remembered him.
When Nick came to the street corner, he saw, about forty yards from the avenue, a considerable crowd, upon the downtown side. He quickly made his way to the midst of it.
There he saw a young man kneeling on the sidewalk, and supporting upon his arm the head of a woman.
The man seemed considerably agitated. The woman’s face, indistinct in the dim light, was white and rigid.
“Do you know this woman?” asked Nick, quickly, of the young man, after he had cast a single glance upon the unconscious figure.
“Do you know a tall man with a light brown beard parted in the middle, a dark suit of——”
“Why, that’s the man who has gone to ring for an ambulance,” was the reply. “This lady was with him when she was taken sick.”
Nick did not wait to hear any more. He slipped through the crowd like an eel, and darted away.
He was on the track of the man whom he had seen walking away from the spot to which everybody else was hurrying.
The avenue was brightly lighted, but the man was not in sight. By rapid, clever work, Nick traced him to Forty-first Street, where he had entered a carriage.
A hackman, who had seen this, did not remember ever to have seen the carriage or the driver or the passenger before.
“Was the man looking about for a carriage when you first saw him?” asked Nick.
“No; he knew where to find one,” was the reply.
“Did he give any directions to the driver?”
“He held up his hand in a queer sort of way, and the driver nodded. Nothing was said.”
Evidently the carriage had been waiting, and the coachman and the passenger knew each other well. They would be harder to trace on that account.
For the moment Nick gave up the chase. He returned to the crowd around the unconscious woman.
She still lay where Nick had last seen her. A policeman had come, and had rung for an ambulance.
The young man who had been supporting the woman’s head had relinquished his burden, and just as Nick came up he was edging away through the crowd. He seemed to desire to escape further observation.
Nick touched him on the arm, and the young man faced about.
“Don’t try to get away,” said the detective. “You won’t help matters by that.”
“Why shouldn’t I go away?”
“Because,” said Nick, calmly, “you will direct suspicion toward yourself.”
“Suspicion! Suspicion of what?”
“Murder!” replied the detective, in a low, steady voice.
This sinister word produced a tremendous effect upon the young man. But he came out of it in a way which showed he had plenty of nerve.
Nick had drawn him into a doorway, and the two were almost unobserved.
“Look here,” said the young man, “I’m no fool, and I begin to see that something is wrong here. But when it comes to murder, I don’t believe you’re right. That lady isn’t very sick.”
“She isn’t sick at all,” said Nick; “she’s wounded.”
“Wounded!”
“Yes. I saw at a glance that she was suffering from a blow with a sharp-pointed instrument. She has been stabbed, probably, with a stiletto.”
“Then it was that man——”
“Either that man or yourself,” said Nick, interrupting.
“But I swear by all that I hold sacred that I never set eyes on the woman before this evening. I was passing along the street when I saw her ahead of me.
“The man whom I described to you had just overtaken her, and they were talking. At that moment a drunken man pushed violently against me. I looked around. He lurched away.
“Then I turned toward Eighth Avenue again, and at that moment I saw the woman fall into the man’s arms, with a low cry. I didn’t see him stab her, and I didn’t see any weapon. I ran up to offer assistance, and he said: ‘This lady is ill. Take her for a moment while I summon assistance. I will ring for an ambulance. It will be the quickest way to get a doctor.’
“I took the woman out of his arms because I couldn’t let her fall on the sidewalk. He hurried away. You know the rest.
“Now, then, I maintain that you have no right to detain me. I’m going home.”
“Do you suppose that you could do so, even if I consented? I tell you that a detective has his eye on you at this moment, though you do not see him. Do you think that policeman would have been stupid enough to let you get away if he hadn’t known that somebody was on hand to look out for you?”
“And who are you?”
“I’m a man who may believe in your innocence and help you to prove it, if your conduct justifies it.”
The young man looked at Nick as if he meditated making a break for liberty, but something in the detective’s glance restrained him. The stronger mind prevailed.
“What would you advise me to do?” he asked.
“Go back and stand near the policeman,” said Nick. “Be on hand when the ambulance surgeon makes his examination.
“You will be taken to the police station. When you get there tell your story as you’ve told it to me. If there’s anything else, save it till you see me again. What is your name?”
“Austin L. Reeves. I live at ninety-two West Thirty-ninth Street.”
“Very well. Here comes the ambulance.”
Though fully twenty minutes had elapsed since the woman had received the injury, her condition had not changed in the least. Nick had felt certain that the night was so warm that no harm would result from her remaining outdoors. Otherwise he would have taken her to a drug store or into one of the houses.
The others, expecting the ambulance every minute, and failing to perceive the real nature of the woman’s trouble, had not thought of doing anything.
When the ambulance surgeon bent over her, he saw at once that she was suffering from a serious stab wound.
Not a drop of blood was visible, which showed that the weapon used must have been as fine as a needle.
The surgeon whispered a word in the ear of the policeman, who instantly whistled for assistance. Then, by Nick’s order, he placed young Reeves under arrest, and took him to the station house.
The other officer who had responded to the whistle, tried to secure witnesses. He could find nobody.
Nick, a thousand times more skillful, had been engaged in that search for some minutes, but when the ambulance rolled away with the wounded woman in it, he had not succeeded in finding a single person who could throw any light upon the matter.
Apparently nobody but Reeves had seen the woman pass along the street, or had noticed the man who overtook her.
To be sure, there was the drunken man, of whom Reeves had spoken, but, accepting Reeves’ story as true, the supposed drunkard was doubtless a pal of the murderer, and was there to distract the attention of any person who might be likely to interfere.
The blinder the case the more anxious Nick was to follow it up. He saw in it one of the most fascinating murder mysteries which he had ever encountered.
It was probable that at the hospital something would be learned which would be of value, but Nick could not wait for it. There is nothing like following a trail when it is warm, and so Nick stuck to the ground.
After about an hour’s hard work, his efforts were rewarded. By this time the rumor that the case was a murder had begun to spread in the precinct.
The local detectives were out on it, and they dropped a word here and there which was taken up and borne along.
In the course of Nick’s search he worked along the cross-town street toward Ninth Avenue, finding out what every person knew.
At last, just in the doorway of one of the large apartment houses he found a man and woman talking about the case. Both of them were known to the police.
The man was a hardened young rascal, not long out of the penitentiary. The woman was known as “Crazy Mag,” though she was not really insane.
She was somewhat intoxicated, and was talking loudly. Nick entered the hall and pretended to be looking for a name on the bell rack.
“Shut up, Mag,” he heard the young tough whisper. “You’ll get yourself into trouble.”
“What’s the matter with you?” she exclaimed, roughly. “I saw the woman come out of No. 349. Why shouldn’t I say so?”
“I’ll tell you why,” said her companion. “Because that woman was put out of the way by Doc Helstone’s gang, and if you talk too much you’ll follow her.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised if you were right,” said Nick to himself. “At any rate, this clew settles one thing—I take the contract to trap Doc Helstone’s gang.”
CHAPTER II.
A NOVEL TIMEKEEPER.
It was about four o’clock in the morning when Nick and the New York chief of police sat down together in the latter’s house to discuss the events of the night. What had happened in the meantime the reader will hear in Nick’s own words.
He had rapidly described the events with which the reader is familiar and had come to the scene in the hall.
“I went directly to No. 349,” Nick proceeded, “and there I found evidence which convinced me that Helstone’s gang had made the house its headquarters.
“I got no information from the people in the house. They only knew that a ‘club’ of some kind had hired one of the upper apartments.
“Of course it was empty. The gang had taken the alarm. But I saw the work of Helstone’s carpenter.
“You remember that when the central office men arrived just too late at Helstone’s place on East Tenth Street, they found the rooms full of concealed panels and secret cupboards—the cleverest things of the kind that had ever been seen in New York.
“Well, there was the same work over here, but the rooms were entirely deserted. The gang had got away. The last man hadn’t been gone an hour.”
“Can that be proved?”
“I could swear to it,” said Nick, smiling. “There is running water in one of the rooms. Under the faucet was a pewter drinking cup.
“The faucet leaked. The cup was very nearly full.
“The dropping water filled this little bottle in one minute and ten seconds. The bottle holds the hundredth part of a pint. The cup holds half a pint. Therefore, the leaking water would fill it in fifty-eight seconds. So somebody set that cup under the faucet less than an hour before I arrived.”
“Upon my word, Nick,” said the chief, “you can make a clock out of anything.”
“Dropping water is a first-rate timepiece,” Nick replied. “That’s why I had this bottle made.”
“Except the joiner work, was there anything in the rooms to show that Helstone had occupied them?”
“No, but it’s pretty well known in the district now. That’s the peculiar thing about Helstone. He always knows just when to flit.
“Before he goes, nobody knows anything about him. Ten minutes later, everybody knows.”
“But nobody has ever seen Helstone himself.”
“No; the inspector has got descriptions of some of his men, but there is no description of Helstone. He’s really only a rumor, a mysterious influence guiding the movements of those ruffians.”
“Well,” said the chief, after a pause, “what did you do next?”
“I went to the hospital.”
“Is the woman dead?”
“She lies unconscious, but will probably recover. Her clothing bears no marks by which she can be identified. She may prove to be a mystery.”
“How was she dressed?”
“A rather ordinary gray dress, with a simple hat to match. Her underclothing was unusually fine.”
“In the nature of a disguise,” said the superintendent. “A rich woman who wished to seem poor.”
“Perhaps; but here’s the great point which makes the case extraordinary and seems to connect the woman with Helstone.
“In a pocket of her dress were five loose diamonds. Four of them were ordinary stones worth about four hundred dollars apiece.
“The fifth was a splendid gem of the first water. It is worth over five thousand dollars.”
“Looks as if she was a member of the gang, and was trying to get away with some of the plunder.”
“It certainly has that appearance.”
“What did you do with the jewels?” asked the chief, after a pause.
“I sent them to headquarters, and furnished a description of them to the papers. Probably the last editions of some of them will have the description.”
The chief nodded.
“Yes,” he said, “we want the stones identified as soon as possible.”
“And also the woman,” Nick added.
“What is her description?”
“Age thirty, medium height, weighs about one hundred and thirty pounds, hazel eyes, very abundant hair, of a peculiar bronze hue; regular features, and, in general, unusual personal beauty. There are no distinguishing marks.”
“Looks like a refined woman?”
“Decidedly.”
“Where is the wound?”
“In the back. The dagger did not touch the heart, but it grazed the spine, and there are signs that paralysis will follow, ending, of course, in death.”
“You’ve decided to take charge of the case, Nick?”
“I have.”
“Good. You have informed Inspector McLaughlin?”
“Certainly.”
“There’s nothing that I can do.”
“I think not, thank you.”
“Then I’ll get back to bed. Good luck to you, Nick. Helstone is game worthy of your skill, but you’ll bag him.”
At nine o’clock on that morning Nick was in Inspector McLaughlin’s office.
He held in his hand the five diamonds which had been taken from the wounded woman’s pocket.
“These four stones,” said the inspector, “will be hard to identify. The big one should find its rightful owner easily.”
He had no sooner spoken the words than Nathan Lusker was announced. He came to see whether the diamonds were a part of his stolen stock.
Lusker failed to identify them. His description did not fit the large jewel at all. This stone was cut in a peculiar manner, so that its owner should be able to describe it in a way to settle all doubt.
When Lusker had departed, an East Side jeweler called. He had no better fortune. The stones were evidently not his.
Then a card was brought in by an officer.
“Morton H. Parks,” the inspector read. “He’s not a jeweler. Bring him in.”
Mr. Parks entered immediately. He was a fine-looking man of middle age, with the face of a scholar.
He wore neither beard nor mustache.
“I called to examine some jewels,” he said. “They were, I understand, found last night in the possession of an unfortunate woman—a thief—who was stabbed by some of her accomplices.”
“Well, as to that I wouldn’t speak positively,” said the inspector, “but we have five diamonds here, and I don’t doubt that they were stolen.”
“I have reason to think,” replied Mr. Parks, “that the larger of them was stolen from my residence.”
He proceeded at once to describe the stone, and he had not spoken a dozen words before the inspector was convinced that the owner of the diamonds had appeared.
One of the smaller stones he also described very closely, and he expressed the opinion that all of them were his.
“They were stolen on the night of August 3d,” said he. “A burglar took the entire contents of my wife’s jewel casket.”
“What else did he take?” asked Nick.
Mr. Parks seemed to be much embarrassed.
“Nothing else,” he replied, at last, “except some money which was in my pocketbook.”
“What was your total loss?”
“In excess of thirty thousand dollars.”
“Why did you not report your loss to the police?”
The visitor tried to speak, but his voice stuck in his throat. He seemed to be suffering great mental distress.
“Was it because you suspected some member of your family?”
Mr. Parks bowed his head in assent. Then, with an effort, he recovered his self-command.
“I am ashamed to confess,” he said, “that I did at first suspect my nephew, who lived with us. It is dreadful to think of it, but circumstances pointed to him. I am rejoiced to find that I was wholly wrong, and that the robbery was done by an organized gang of burglars.”
“Your identification of the large diamond,” said the inspector, “satisfies me that you are the owner. Yet, on account of its value in money, and its value to us as a clew, I wish to be doubly certain. Is there any way you can strengthen the identification?”
“Yes, indeed,” replied Parks, “my wife knows the stones as well as I. You see, the large diamond was the pendant of a necklace. The smaller ones, I believe, were in rings belonging to her, though, of course, I cannot be sure now that the settings have been removed.”
“Is Mrs. Parks at home?”
“No; she is in Stamford, Connecticut. She went there yesterday morning upon a visit. I have telegraphed her to return.”
“Have you received any answer?” asked Nick.
“I did not expect any. She would certainly come.”
At this moment there was a knock at the door.
A telegram was brought in. It was addressed to Mr. Parks, and had reached his house after he left.
The butler, knowing where he had gone, had sent it after him.
He tore it open.
“From Stamford,” he said, and then his face grew white.
“Merciful Heaven!” he cried. “Gentlemen, my wife has not been to Stamford.”
“Have you her picture?” asked Nick.
For answer Parks drew out his watch and opened the back of the case with a trembling hand. He then held the picture it contained before Nick’s eyes.
“Mr. Parks,” said Nick, “tell me the truth. Was it your nephew whom you suspected of that robbery or——”
“My wife? Yes; may Heaven pity and forgive her! It was my wife.”
“Will you go to her?”
“Can it be true?”
“She lies in Bellevue Hospital, at the point of death.”
CHAPTER III.
THE ONLY WITNESS.
Mr. Parks seemed to be greatly agitated by this intelligence, and it was some time before he regained his self-command. Then Nick asked him how it happened he had had no suspicions on reading the description of the wounded woman in the morning papers.
“Read that,” he said, thrusting a paper into Nick’s hands. “Does that describe her?”
“It is all wrong,” said Nick.
“And that picture?”
“It is a pure fake. There has been no opportunity of getting a picture of her.”
“The description and the picture caught my eye before I read about the diamonds. Therefore I never thought of my previous suspicions of my wife, except to be thankful that they had been proved groundless.”
“Why did you suspect her at first?”
“In one word, because it seemed utterly impossible that anybody else should have done it. The theory of burglars would not hold water. One of my servants had been ill, and had been about the house with a light almost all night, and had seen nothing of robbers.”
“Did you tell the servants of your loss?”
“No; I questioned them without letting them know anything unusual had happened.”
“They have been the guilty ones.”
Parks shook his head.
“I watched them all. They were honest. Then I learned that my wife speculated in stocks. There are more women stock gamblers in New York than most people could be made to believe.
“She had wasted her private fortune, and had got all the money she could from me. Heaven knows that I did not begrudge it. I only asked for her confidence, but she would not give it to me.”
“Out of the question entirely. He was not in the house. He was in a sleeping car bound for Boston. I only mentioned him to you because I could think of no other way to avoid mentioning my wife.
“And now, gentlemen, do not detain me longer. I have recovered from the first shock of this dreadful news. I must go to her. Guilty or innocent, she is my wife, and I will protect and help her so long as she has need of me.”
All three went at once to Bellevue Hospital.
When they stood beside the motionless and deathlike figure, the grief of the husband was pitiful to see.
He knelt by the bed, and taking his wife’s hand gently in his, he kissed it.
The patient occupied a cot in the accident ward. Several other injured persons were there.
Parks turned to ask Nick whether his wife could be removed from the hospital, but Nick had vanished.
Inspector McLaughlin could not tell where he had gone.
“He seems to be directing everything,” said Parks, “and I wished to ask whether I might take my wife to my house.”
“The surgeon can answer you,” said the inspector, pointing to a white-bearded and venerable man, who at that moment approached the cot.
“Then the police will offer no objection?” said Parks.
“Certainly not.”
Parks at once turned to the surgeon and besought permission to take his wife home at once.
“It is impossible,” said the surgeon.
“Why?”
“Because the patient could not endure the removal.”
“Is there any hope?”
“There is a faint hope.”
“Thank God for that.”
“In a few moments we shall make another examination of the wound. An operation may be necessary to remove a splinter of bone. After that she must be kept perfectly quiet.”
“Will you not allow me to see her?”
“We cannot prevent you, but it would endanger her life.”
Parks bowed his head.
“At least I can secure her a separate room,” he said.
“Yes.”
“And I can send a nurse to assist the regular hospital attendants.”
“You may.”
“You will send for me if she becomes conscious?”
“Yes; and now I must ask you to withdraw. I think it much better that you should do so.”
Without making any protest against this decree, Parks again knelt beside his wife and kissed her. Then he slowly walked out of the ward.
The surgeon beckoned to a nurse. Then he and Inspector McLaughlin went into a small adjoining room.
“Why did you do that, Nick?” asked the inspector, when they were alone.
Nick was removing the disguise in which he had appeared as the surgeon.
“For two reasons,” he replied. “The first is that Mrs. Parks really ought not to be removed. But if Parks had been told so less firmly he might have insisted.
“My second reason for keeping her here is that while she will almost certainly die, she will, perhaps, have a few minutes of consciousness. We must know what she says.”
“That is true.”
“And Parks would naturally conceal it.”
“He would, since it would be a confession tending to degrade her.”
Nick said nothing.
“You can’t blame him for wanting to keep this affair quiet,” continued the inspector.
“It is only natural; but we must hear what she has to say if ever able to speak rationally. We must do it in common justice.”
“Justice to her?”
“No; to the young man whom we hold under arrest.”
“Reeves?”
“The same.”
“He ought easily to be able to clear himself, if he is innocent.”
“On the contrary, he will find it very hard.”
“Well, you know best, Nick. Of course I have not had a chance to study the case you have. What will be the difficulty?”
“That seems incredible.”
“It is true. By chance that scene upon the street seems to have been wholly unobserved.
“Reeves is found with this wounded woman in his arms. We have only his word to explain how he came by her. A coroner’s jury would certainly hold him.”
“What do you think?”
“It is possible that he is in the plot. He may have expected to escape. In fact, he came near succeeding.”
“You saw the other man—the fellow with the brown beard.”
“I had a glimpse of him, but I know nothing that connects him with the crime.”
“You’re right, Nick. Reeves is in a tighter place than I had supposed.”
“But one word from this woman can certainly save him. I propose that we shall hear that word.”
“Well, Nick, take your own course. What I want is to see this crime fastened upon Helstone, and then to see you run that villain to earth.”
“As to the connection of this crime with that gang—— Ah, here is Chick.”
The door opened at that moment and Nick’s famous assistant entered. Even the inspector, who had seen him in many disguises, would not have known him but for Nick’s words.
“Well, Chick,” said his chief.
“Crazy Mag is our only direct witness, so far,” said Chick. “She is the only person who can testify that the woman came out of that house.”
“Did anybody see her go in?”
“No; that was where I had trouble. It seemed impossible that she should have got in without being seen.
“I found a lot of people who ought to have seen her, but not one of them remembered her. At last, however, I struck the clew.
“Helstone’s gang had a secret entrance. They had rooms also in a rear building. To get into that house they passed through an alley from the street above.
“No. 349 and this rear building are connected by an iron bridge intended as a fire escape for the latter.
“Their use of this bridge had begun to be noticed, and this was probably one of the reasons why they had to skip.
“At any rate, I’m convinced that the woman entered that way. She could have done it all right, whereas the other entrance was under somebody’s observation almost all the evening.”
“Do you feel sure that she went to the rooms of the Helstone gang?”
“Yes. The house is tenanted by respectable people. They all say that they did not see her, and I believe them.”
“Is there any trace of the man with the brown beard?”
“He has been seen in the neighborhood, but nobody remembers anything about him. It is going to be nearly impossible to trace him.”
“I don’t mean to trace him,” said Nick.
“What!” exclaimed the inspector.
“That’s the state of the case,” Nick rejoined. “You won’t find me camping on the trail of that fellow any more.”
“What will you do?”
“Look here, inspector, your men have been after Helstone for some time, haven’t they?”
“Certainly.”
“And they haven’t caught him?”
“Equally true, I’m sorry to say.”
“Well, then, I think it is time to quit going after him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going ahead of him.”
“You are.”
“Yes; no detective can go to him, it’s time to make him come to the detective.”
“How’ll you do that?”
“I’ll set a trap.”
“A trap?”