Final Proof; Or, The Value of Evidence

by Rodrigues Ottolengui

  IV

  THE MONTEZUMA EMERALD

  "Is the Inspector in?"

  Mr. Barnes immediately recognized the voice, and turned to greet thespeaker. The man was Mr. Leroy Mitchel's English valet. Contrary to allprecedent and tradition, he did not speak in cockney dialect, not evenstumbling over the proper distribution of the letter "h" throughout hisvocabulary. That he was English, however, was apparent to the ear,because of a certain rather attractive accent, peculiar to his nativeisland, and to the eye because of a deferential politeness of manner,too seldom observed in American servants. He also always called Mr.Barnes "Inspector," oblivious of the fact that he was not a member ofthe regular police, and mindful only of the English application of theword to detectives.

  "Step right in, Williams," said Mr. Barnes. "What is the trouble?"

  "I don't rightly know, Inspector," said Williams. "Won't you let mespeak to you alone? It's about the master."

  "Certainly. Come into my private room." He led the way and Williamsfollowed, remaining standing, although Mr. Barnes waved his hand towardsa chair as he seated himself in his usual place at his desk. "Now then,"continued the detective, "what's wrong? Nothing serious I hope?"

  "I hope not, sir, indeed. But the master's disappeared."

  "Disappeared, has he." Mr. Barnes smiled slightly. "Now Williams, whatdo you mean by that? You did not see him vanish, eh?"

  "No, sir, of course not. If you'll excuse my presumption, Inspector, Idon't think this is a joke, sir, and you're laughing."

  "All right, Williams," answered Mr. Barnes, assuming a more serioustone. "I will give your tale my sober consideration. Proceed."

  "Well, I hardly know where to begin, Inspector. But I'll just give youthe facts, without any unnecessary opinions of my own."

  Williams rather prided himself upon his ability to tell what he called"a straight story." He placed his hat on a chair, and, standing behindit, with one foot resting on a rung, checked off the points of hisnarrative, as he made them, by tapping the palm of one hand with theindex finger of the other.

  "To begin then," said he. "Mrs. Mitchel and Miss Rose sailed forEngland, Wednesday morning of last week. That same night, quiteunexpected, the master says to me, says he, 'Williams, I think you havea young woman you're sweet on down at Newport?' 'Well, sir,' says I, 'Ido know a person as answers that description,' though I must say to you,Inspector, that how he ever came to know it beats me. But that's aside,and digression is not my habit. 'Well, Williams,' the master went on, 'Ishan't need you for the rest of this week, and if you'd like to take atrip to the seashore, I shan't mind standing the expense, and lettingyou go.' Of course, I thanked him very much, and I went, promising to beback on Monday morning as directed. And I kept my word, Inspector;though it was a hard wrench to leave the young person last Sunday intime to catch the boat; the moon being bright and everything mostpropitious for a stroll, it being her Sunday off, and all that. But, asI said, I kept my word, and was up to the house Monday morning only alittle after seven, the boat having got in at six. I was a littlesurprised to find that the master was not at home, but then it struck meas how he must have gone out of town over Sunday, and I looked for himto be in for dinner. But he did not come to dinner, nor at all thatnight. Still, I did not worry about it. It was the master's privilege tostay away as long as he liked. Only I could not help thinking I mightjust as well have had that stroll in the moonlight, Sunday night. Butwhen all Tuesday and Tuesday night went by, and no word from the master,I must confess that I got uneasy; and now here's Wednesday noon, and nonews; so I just took the liberty to come down and ask your opinion inthe matter, seeing as how you are a particular friend of the family,and an Inspector to boot."

  "Really, Williams," said Mr. Barnes, "all I see in your story is thatMr. Mitchel, contemplating a little trip off somewhere with friends, letyou go away. He expected to be back by Monday, but, enjoying himself,has remained longer."

  "I hope that's all, sir, and I've tried to think so. But this morning Imade a few investigations of my own, and I'm bound to say what I founddon't fit that theory."

  "Ah, you have some more facts. What are they?"

  "One of them is this cablegram that I found only this morning under abook on the table in the library." He handed a blue paper to Mr. Barnes,who took it and read the following, on a cable blank:

  "Emerald. Danger. Await letter."

  For the first time during the interview Mr. Barnes's face assumed areally serious expression. He studied the despatch silently for a fullminute, and then, without raising his eyes, said:

  "What else?"

  "Well, Inspector, I don't know that this has anything to do with theaffair, but the master had a curious sort of jacket, made of steellinks, so tight and so closely put together, that I've often wonderedwhat it was for. Once I made so bold as to ask him, and he said, saidhe, 'Williams, if I had an enemy, it would be a good idea to wear that,because it would stop a bullet or a knife.' Then he laughed, and wenton: 'Of course, I shan't need it for myself. I bought it when I wasabroad once, merely as a curiosity.' Now, Inspector, that jacket'sdisappeared also."

  "Are you quite sure?"

  "I've looked from dining-room to garret for it. The master's derringeris missing, too. It's a mighty small affair. Could be held in the handwithout being noticed, but it carries a nasty-looking ball."

  "Very well, Williams, there may be something in your story. I'll lookinto the matter at once. Meanwhile, go home, and stay there so that Imay find you if I want you."

  "Yes, sir; I thank you for taking it up. It takes a load off my mind toknow you're in charge, Inspector. If there's harm come to the master,I'm sure you'll track the party down. Good morning, sir."

  "Good morning, Williams."

  After the departure of Williams, the detective sat still for severalminutes, lost in thought. He was weighing two ideas. He seemed still tohear the words which Mr. Mitchel had uttered after his success inunravelling the mystery of Mr. Goldie's lost identity. "Next time I willassign myself the chief _role_," or words to that effect, Mr. Mitchelhad said. Was this disappearance a new riddle for Mr. Barnes to solve?If so, of course he would undertake it, as a sort of challenge which hisprofessional pride could not reject. On the other hand, the cabledespatch and the missing coat of mail might portend ominously. Thedetective felt that Mr. Mitchel was somewhat in the position of thefabled boy who cried "Wolf!" so often that, when at last the wolf reallyappeared, no assistance was sent to him. Only Mr. Barnes decided that hemust chase the "wolf," whether it be real or imaginary. He wished,though, that he knew which.

  Ten minutes later he decided upon a course of action, and proceeded to atelegraph office, where he found that, as he had supposed, the despatchhad come from the Paris firm of jewellers from which Mr. Mitchel hadfrequently bought gems. He sent a lengthy message to them, asking for animmediate reply.

  While waiting for the answer, the detective was not inactive. He wentdirect to Mr. Mitchel's house, and once more questioned the valet, fromwhom he obtained an accurate description of the clothes which his mastermust have worn, only one suit being absent. This fact alone, seemedsignificantly against the theory of a visit to friends out of town.Next, Mr. Barnes interviewed the neighbors, none of whom remembered tohave seen Mr. Mitchel during the week. At the sixth house below,however, he learned something definite. Here he found Mr. Mordaunt, apersonal acquaintance, and member of one of Mr. Mitchel's clubs. Thisgentleman stated that he had dined at the club with Mr. Mitchel on theprevious Thursday, and had accompanied him home, in the neighborhood ofeleven o'clock, parting with him at the door of his own residence. Sincethen he had neither seen nor heard from him. This proved that Mr.Mitchel was at home one day after Williams went to Newport.

  Leaving the house, Mr. Barnes called at the nearest telegraph office andasked whether a messenger summons had reached them during the week, fromMr. Mitchel's house. The record slips showed that the last call had b
eenreceived at 12.30 A.M., on Friday. A cab had been demanded, and wassent, reaching the house at one o'clock. At the stables, Mr. Barnesquestioned the cab-driver, and learned that Mr. Mitchel had alighted atMadison Square.

  "But he got right into another cab," added the driver. "It was just achance I seen him, 'cause he made as if he was goin' into the FifthAvenoo; but luck was agin' him, for I'd scarcely gone two blocks back,when I had to get down to fix my harness, and while I was doin' that,who should I see but my fare go by in another cab."

  "You did not happen to know the driver of that vehicle?" suggested Mr.Barnes.

  "That's just what I did happen to know. He's always by the Square, alongthe curb by the Park. His name's Jerry. You'll find him easy enough, andhe'll tell you where he took that fly bird."

  Mr. Barnes went down town again, and did find Jerry, who remembereddriving a man at the stated time, as far as the Imperial Hotel; butbeyond that the detective learned nothing, for at the hotel no one knewMr. Mitchel, and none recollected his arrival early Friday morning.

  From the fact that Mr. Mitchel had changed cabs, and doubled on histrack, Mr. Barnes concluded that he was after all merely hiding away forthe pleasure of baffling him, and he felt much relieved to divest thecase of its alarming aspect. However, he was not long permitted to holdthis opinion. At the telegraph office he found a cable despatch awaitinghim, which read as follows:

  "Montezuma Emerald forwarded Mitchel tenth. Previous owner murdered London eleventh. Mexican suspected. Warned Mitchel."

  This assuredly looked very serious. Casting aside all thought of apractical joke, Mr. Barnes now threw himself heart and soul into thetask of finding Mitchel, dead or alive. From the telegraph office hehastened to the Custom-House, where he learned that an emerald, theinvoiced value of which was no less than twenty thousand dollars, hadbeen delivered to Mr. Mitchel in person, upon payment of the customduties, at noon of the previous Thursday. Mr. Barnes, with thisknowledge, thought he knew why Mr. Mitchel had been careful to have afriend accompany him to his home on that night. But why had he gone outagain? Perhaps he felt safer at a hotel than at home, and, havingreached the Imperial, taking two cabs to mystify the villain who mightbe tracking him, he might have registered under an alias. What a fool hehad been not to examine the registry, as he could certainly recognizeMr. Mitchel's handwriting, though the name signed would of course be afalse one.

  Back, therefore, he hastened to the Imperial, where, however, his searchfor familiar chirography was fruitless. Then an idea occurred to him.Mr. Mitchel was so shrewd that it would not be unlikely that, meditatinga disappearance to baffle the men on his track, he had registered at thehotel several days prior to his permanently stopping there. Turning thepage over, Mr. Barnes still failed to find what he sought, but a curiousname caught his eye.

  "Miguel Palma--City of Mexico."

  Could this be the London murderer? Was this the suspected Mexican? Ifso, here was a bold and therefore dangerous criminal who openly put upat one of the most prominent hostelries. Mr. Barnes was turning thisover in his mind, when a diminutive newsboy rushed into the corridor,shouting:

  "Extra _Sun_! Extra _Sun_! All about the horrible murder. Extra!"

  Mr. Barnes purchased a paper and was stupefied at the headlines:

  ROBERT LEROY MITCHEL DROWNED!

  _His Body Found Floating in the East River._

  A DAGGER IN HIS BACK.

  _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 readthe details of the crime as recounted in the newspaper. From this hegathered that the body had been discovered early in the morning by twoboatmen, who towed it to shore and handed it over to the police. Anexamination at the Morgue had established the identity by letters foundon the corpse and the initials marked on the clothing. Mr. Barnes wassad at heart, and inwardly fretted because his friend had not asked hisaid when in danger.

  Jumping from the cab almost before it had fully stopped in front of theMorgue, he stumbled and nearly fell over a decrepit-looking beggar, uponwhose breast was a printed card soliciting alms for the blind. Mr.Barnes dropped a coin, a silver quarter, into his outstretched palm, andhurried into the building. As he did so he was jostled by a tall man whowas coming out, and who seemed to have lost his temper, as he mutteredan imprecation under his breath in Spanish. As the detective's keen earnoted the foreign tongue an idea occurred to him which made him turn andfollow the stranger. When he reached the street again he received adouble surprise. The stranger had already signalled the cab which Mr.Barnes had just left, and was entering it, so that he had only a momentin which to observe him. Then the door was slammed, and the driverwhipped up his horses and drove rapidly away. At the same moment theblind beggar jumped up, and ran in the direction taken by the cab. Mr.Barnes watched them till both cab and beggar disappeared around the nextcorner, and then he went into the building again, deeply thinking overthe episode.

  He found the Morgue-keeper, and was taken to the corpse. He recognizedthe clothing at once, both from the description given by Williams, andbecause he now remembered to have seen Mr. Mitchel so dressed. It wasevident that the body had been in the water for several days, and themarks of violence plainly pointed to murder. Still sticking in the backwas a curious dagger of foreign make, the handle projecting between theshoulders. The blow must have been a powerful stroke, for the blade wasso tightly wedged in the bones of the spine that it resisted ordinaryefforts to withdraw it. Moreover, the condition of the head showed thata crime had been committed, for the skull and face had been beaten intoa pulpy mass with some heavy instrument. Mr. Barnes turned away from thesickening sight to examine the letters found upon the corpse. One ofthese bore the Paris postmark, and he was allowed to read it. It wasfrom 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 receivedthe cable in the morning. The plot seemed plain enough now. After thefruitless murder of the man in London, the Mexican had traced theemerald to Mr. Mitchel, and had followed it across the water. Had hesucceeded in obtaining it? Among the things found on the corpse was anempty jewel-case, bearing the name of the Paris firm. It seemed fromthis 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 toldthat Mr. Palma had left the hotel on the night of the previous Thursday,which was just a few hours before Mr. Mitchel had undoubtedly reachedthere 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 wasa problem over which Mr. Barnes puzzled, as he was driven up to theresidence of Mr. Mitchel. Here he found Williams, and imparted to thatfaithful servant the news of his master's death, and then inquired forthe address of the family abroad, that he might notify them by cable,before they could read the bald statement in a news
paper.

  "As they only sailed a week ago to-day," said Williams, "they're hardlymore than due in London. I'll go up to the master's desk and get theaddress of his London bankers."

  As Williams turned to leave the room, he started back amazed at thesound of a bell.

  "That's the master's bell, Inspector! Some one is in his room! Come withme!"

  The two men bounded up-stairs, two steps at a time, and Williams threwopen 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 believehis eyes when he observed Mr. Mitchel, alive and well, brushing his hairbefore a mirror.

  "I've rung for you twice, Williams," said Mr. Mitchel, and then, seeingMr. 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 aghost."

  "Thank God, you are safe!" fervently ejaculated the detective, goingforward and grasping Mr. Mitchel's hand. "Here, read this, and you willunderstand." He drew out the afternoon paper and handed it to him.

  "Oh, that," said Mr. Mitchel, carelessly. "I've read that. Merely asensational lie, worked off upon a guileless public. Not a word of truthin it, I assure you."

  "Of course not, since you are alive; but there is a mystery about thiswhich is yet to be explained."

  "What! A mystery, and the great Mr. Barnes has not solved it? I amsurprised. I am, indeed. But then, you know, I told you after Goldiemade a fizzle of our little joke that if I should choose to play theprincipal part you would not catch me. You see I have beaten you thistime. Confess. You thought that was my corpse which you gazed upon atthe Morgue?"

  "Well," said Mr. Barnes, reluctantly, "the identification certainlyseemed complete, in spite of the condition of the face, which maderecognition impossible."

  "Yes; I flatter myself the whole affair was artistic."

  "Do you mean that this whole thing is nothing but a joke? That you wentso far as to invent cables and letters from Paris just for the triflingamusement of making a fool of me?"

  Mr. Barnes was evidently slightly angry, and Mr. Mitchel, noting thisfact, hastened to mollify him.

  "No, no; it is not quite so bad as that," he said. "I must tell you thewhole story, for there is yet important work to do, and you must helpme. No, Williams, you need not go out. Your anxiety over my absenceentitles you to a knowledge of the truth. A short time ago I heard thata very rare gem was in the market, no less a stone than the originalemerald which Cortez stole from the crown of Montezuma. The emerald wasoffered in Paris, and I was notified at once by the dealer, andauthorized the purchase by cable. A few days later I received a despatchwarning me that there was danger. I understood at once, for similardanger had lurked about other large stones which are now in mycollection. The warning meant that I should not attempt to get theemerald from the Custom-House until further advices reached me, whichwould indicate the exact nature of the danger. Later, I received theletter which was found on the body now at the Morgue, and which Isuppose you have read?"

  Mr. Barnes nodded assent.

  "I readily located the man Palma at the Imperial, and from his openlyusing his name I knew that I had a dangerous adversary. Criminals whodisdain aliases have brains, and use them. I kept away from theCustom-House until I had satisfied myself that I was being dogged by averitable cutthroat, who, of course, was the tool hired by Palma torob, perhaps to kill me. Thus acquainted with my adversaries, I wasready 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 achance 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 myscheme. On the day after their departure I boldly went to theCustom-House and obtained the emerald. Of course I was dogged by thehireling, but I had arranged a plan which gave him no advantage over me.I had constructed a pair of goggles which looked like simple smokedglasses, but in one of these I had a little mirror so arranged that Icould easily watch the man behind me, should he approach too near.However, I was sure that he would not attack me in a crowdedthoroughfare, and I kept in crowds until time for dinner, when, byappointment, I met my neighbor Mordaunt, and remained in his companyuntil I reached my own doorway late at night. Here he left me, and Istood on the stoop until he disappeared into his own house. Then Iturned, and apparently had much trouble to place my latch-key in thelock. This offered the assassin the chance he had hoped for, and,gliding stealthily forward, he made a vicious stab at me. But, in thefirst 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 withone blow with a club I knocked the weapon from the fellow's hand, andwith another I struck him over the head so that he fell senseless at myfeet."

  "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 derringerin the other, I never was in any real danger. I took the man down to thewine-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 cannotor he will not speak English. So I have merely kept him a prisoner,visiting him at midnight only, to avoid Williams, and giving him rationsfor another day. Meanwhile, I disguised myself and looked for Palma. Icould not find him. I had another card, however, and the time came atlast to play it. I deduced from Palma's leaving the hotel on the veryday when I took the emerald from the Custom-House, that it wasprearranged that his hireling should stick to me until he obtained thegem, and then meet him at some rendezvous, previously appointed. Hearingnothing during the past few days, he has perhaps thought that I had leftthe city, and that his man was still upon my track. Meanwhile I wasperfecting my grand _coup_. With the aid of a physician, who is aconfidential friend, I obtained a corpse from one of the hospitals, aman about my size, whose face we battered beyond description. We dressedhim in my clothing, and fixed the dagger which I had taken from mywould-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 itin the water. Last night I simply cut it loose and let it drift down theriver."

  "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 infront 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, Imade nearly four dollars during the day. Begging seems to be lucrative.After the newspapers got on the street with the account of my death, Ilooked for developments. Palma came in due time, and went in. I presumethat 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 hadstolen the gem and meant to keep it for himself. Under thesecircumstances he would naturally be angry, and therefore less cautiousand more easily shadowed. Before he came out, you turned up and stupidlybrought a cab, which allowed my man to get a start of me. However, I ama good runner, and as he only rode as far as Third Avenue, and then tookthe elevated railroad, I easily followed him to his lair. Now I willexplain 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 whathappens when the men meet. We will both be there to see the fun."

  An hour later, Mr. Barnes was skilfully dogging a sneaking Mexican, whowalked rapidly through one of the lowest streets on the East Side, untilfinally he dodged into a blind alley, and before the detective couldmake sure which of
the many doors had allowed him ingress he haddisappeared. A moment later a low whistle attracted his attention, andacross in a doorway he saw a figure which beckoned to him. He went overand found Mr. Mitchel.

  "Palma is here. I have seen him. You see I was right. This is the placeof appointment, and the cutthroat has come here straight. Hush! What wasthat?"

  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 asideand waited. A minute later a cloaked figure bounded out, only to begripped instantly by those in hiding. It was Palma, and he fought like ademon, but the long, powerful arms of Mr. Barnes encircled him, and,with a hug that would have made a bear envious, the scoundrel was soonsubdued. Mr. Barnes then manacled him, while Mr. Mitchel ascended thestairs to see about the other man. He lay sprawling on the floor, facedownward, stabbed in the heart.