The Crime of the French Café and Other Stories

by Nicholas Carter

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE WARDROBE OF GASPARD'S FRIEND.

  Nick Carter is hard to kill. A good many crooks have tried to put himout of the world, and a fair percentage of them have lost their ownlives in the attempt without inflicting any injury upon Nick.

  He is a man of resources, and that's what saves him. When one thingfails him, he finds something else to take its place.

  And so, when that rope gave way, he took the next best thing.

  That happened to be the sill of the window of Mr. Jones' bath-room. Nickseized it with a grip of iron as he shot downward.

  The strain on his arms was something awful, but he held on. His fingersgripped the wood till they dented it.

  In two seconds he had scrambled through the window into Jones' flat.

  It was done so noiselessly that the colored servant in the room directlyopposite, across the narrow shaft, was not disturbed in her reading.

  From the bath-room Nick made his way to the hall, and thence to theparlor, where Mr. Jones--to judge by the light in the window observed byMusgrave--had decided to spend the evening.

  Mr. Jones was not visible when Nick looked into the room.

  The bedroom adjoining was also empty.

  Nick ran through the flat, but saw nobody. He returned to the parlor,and there stood Mr. Jones under the chandelier.

  "Well, upon my word!" exclaimed Jones, "how did you get here?"

  "I might ask you the same," said Nick, "but it isn't worth while."

  "I've been here all the time."

  "Except when you were on the roof."

  "Nonsense! What should I be doing on the roof."

  "It wasn't what you were doing; it was what you were undoing thatbothered me. You were undoing the knot with which I fastened my ropebefore I descended your air shaft to get a peep at your servant."

  "Nonsense again, Mr. Carter. How could I get to the roof?"

  "I'll show you just how it was done. In the first place, you saw mecoming back to the house, and you guessed what I was going to do.

  "You went into this room," and Nick dragged Jones into a sort of closetadjoining the parlor, "and you got out of that window onto the fireescape.

  "That led you to the roof, and the rest was simple. You saw me go down,and you tried to make me go down farther and a good deal faster. But youfailed, and the game's up. Now come to headquarters again."

  "What for?"

  "For trying to kill me. That's the charge against you. And I haven't gotthrough with you on that other matter."

  "But for heaven's sake pity my wife!"

  "What's the matter with her?"

  "She will be crazy when she gets back and finds me gone."

  "One of my men will tell her where you are. Why did you lie to me abouther going out? I've a great mind to place her, too, under arrest."

  "You can't do it. It's no crime to dodge a detective. I admit that shedid it, but for a very innocent purpose. She has gone to see ourlawyer."

  "Very well; I will attend to that later. Now, come with me."

  Nick took Jones to the street. Musgrave got a policeman, and Jones wasput in his care.

  Musgrave remained on the watch for Mrs. Jones, while Nick went to get areport from Patsy, who was shadowing Gaspard.

  Jones' last words to Nick were these:

  "I am a victim of circumstances. I had nothing to do with the murder inthe restaurant, nor with any attempt upon your life. You are doing me agrave injustice. If you were not as blind as a bat you would see who thereal criminals are."

  These words were pronounced in a calm and steady tone, and it cannot bedenied that they produced a great effect upon Nick.

  "If it should prove that I have wronged you," he said, "I will repay youfor the injury to the limit of your demand."

  And the detective did a lot of hard thinking while he was walking towardGaspard's lodgings, where he expected to meet Patsy.

  Certainly if Jones ever succeeded in establishing his innocence he wouldhave won a friend in Nick Carter, whose good will is worth a fortune toany man.

  Nick found Patsy outside the house where Gaspard lodged.

  "I'm dead onto this fellow," said the youth. "He's just about ready toflit. He's bought lots of stuff to-day, and is flush with money.

  "A man just went in there with a suit of clothes. Two delivery wagonsfrom dry goods stores have been here. I suppose that the stuff theybrought belongs to the woman who is going with Gaspard."

  "Have you seen her?"

  "No; she has kept mighty dark."

  "Hello! what's this?"

  Nick drew Patsy more closely into the shadow of the steps by which theywere standing.

  A carriage rumbled over the pavement and stopped before the door ofGaspard's lodging-house.

  "Upon my word," said Nick, "it's my old friend Harrigan on the box. Theway people keep bobbing up in this case is something wonderful."

  "Perhaps the woman's in the cab," whispered Patsy.

  On the contrary, the cab was empty.

  Harrigan got off the box and rang the bell.

  Nick heard him ask for Gaspard Lebeau. Gaspard was summoned.

  "I've two trunks for you," said Harrigan.

  "For me?" asked Gaspard.

  "Yes; a young woman hired me to bring them, and she said it would be allright. You'd pay the price."

  "What sort of a woman?"

  "A very gallus French siren with a big white hat and a black plume aslong as the tail of me horse."

  "All right," said Gaspard, promptly; "bring in the trunks."

  They were carried up the stairs to Gaspard's room.

  Harrigan mounted the box and drove away.

  "Follow him," said Nick. "Bring him back here in about half an hour."

  Patsy darted away in pursuit of the cab.

  Nick walked up to the door of Gaspard's house and rang the bell.

  He was directed to the Frenchman's room.

  Gaspard was examining the two trunks. He looked very much embarrassed atthe sight of Nick.

  "What's all this, Gaspard?" asked the detective. "I hear you're goingback to France."

  "I? Oh, no. New York suits me much better."

  "But what are these trunks doing here?"

  Gaspard looked particularly foolish.

  "They are the property of a friend--a lady. To tell the truth, I hope tomarry her. A charming girl, monsieur; and innocent as a dove."

  "Why does she send her trunks here?"

  "Ah, that I do not know. It was not agreed upon."

  "Have you any idea what is in them?"

  "Her wardrobe. Ah, she is extravagant. She buys many dresses. But then,what would you have? When one is young and beautiful--"

  Gaspard finished his sentence with a sweep of the arms.

  "They are heavy," said Nick, lifting one of the trunks and setting itcrosswise on a lounge.

  He took a bunch of keys from his pocket. Gaspard seemed aghast.

  "You would not open it?" he cried.

  "Perhaps it won't be necessary," said Nick. "This may answer."

  He drew a knife from his pocket and opened one of the blades, which wassharpened like a very large nut-pick.

  With a sudden movement, he struck this into the bottom of the trunk, andthen withdrew it.

  A dark red stream followed the blade when it was withdrawn. The end ofthe trunk projected over the side of the couch, and the red fluiddripped upon the carpet.

  "My God!" exclaimed Gaspard. "It is blood!"

  "So it would seem," said Nick, quietly.

  He set the trunk upon the floor and snapped back the lock with askeleton key.

  Then he threw open the lid and revealed a mass of excelsior and scrapsof newspapers.

  This being torn away disclosed a dead and ghastly face--the face ofunfortunate Corbut, the waiter.