An Artist in Crime

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by Rodrigues Ottolengui


  CHAPTER IV.

  DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.

  Mr. Barnes, after discovering the cameo button, immediately left theapartment. With little loss of time he reached the Fifth Avenue Hotel.He found Wilson sitting in the lobby, and learned from him that Mr.Mitchel had not yet come down-stairs. He made his subordinate happy, bycomplimenting him upon his work, and exonerating him from blame becauseof his having lost his man for a few hours the day before. With thebutton in his pocket, Mr. Barnes found it easy to be good-natured. Ifthe truth were known, he was chuckling to himself. The thought whichproved such a fund of merriment was the idea that his man up-stairs hadproven himself just as human as ordinary criminals, since he had leftbehind him the very tell-tale mark which he had boasted would not befound after he had committed his crime. Externally, however, there wasno sign to show that Mr. Barnes was in any way excited. He calmly askedat the desk for Mr. Mitchel, and sent up his card just as any ordinaryvisitor might have done. In a few moments the hall-boy returned with thecurt message, "Come up."

  Mr. Barnes was shown up one flight of stairs into a suite of two roomsand a bath, overlooking Twenty-third Street. The room which he passedinto from the hall was fitted up like a bachelor's parlor. Comfortablestuffed chairs and two sofas, a folding reading-chair, an upright pianoin mahogany case with handsome piano-lamp beside it, a carvedcentre-table on which stood a reading-lamp, cigar case in bronze,photo-albums, handsome pictures on the walls in gold frames, elegantvases on the mantel, an onyx clock, a full-sized figure of a Moor carvedin wood serving as a card-receiver,--in fact everything about the placewas significant of wealth, luxury, and refinement. Could this be the denof a murderer? It seemed not, unless there might be some powerful hiddenmotive, which would make a man who was evidently a gentleman, stoop tosuch a crime. According to Mr. Barnes's experience such a motive mustinvolve a woman. As yet there was no woman in this case, save the corpsewhich he had just left. All this flashed through the detective's mind ashe noted his surroundings in a few swift glances. Then he heard a voicefrom the next room say:

  "Come in, Mr. Barnes: we must not stand upon ceremony with one another."

  Mr. Barnes in answer to the invitation crossed into the adjoining roomand noticed at once that the sleeping apartment was as luxurious as theparlor. Mr. Mitchel was standing in front of a mirror shaving himself,being robed in a silk morning wrapper.

  "Pardon this intrusion," began Mr. Barnes. "But you told me I might callat any time, and----"

  "No excuses necessary, except from me. But I must finish shaving, youknow. A man can't talk with lather on one side of his face."

  "Certainly not. Don't hurry, I can wait."

  "Thank you. Take a seat. You will find that armchair by the bedcomfortable. This is an odd hour to be making one's toilet but the factis I was out late last night."

  "At the club, I suppose," said Mr. Barnes, wishing to see if Mr. Mitchelwould lie to him. In this he was disappointed, for the reply was:

  "No, I went to the Casino. Lillian Russell you know has returned. I hadpromised a friend to go, so we went."

  "A gentleman?"

  "Are you not getting inquisitive? No, not a gentleman, but a lady. Infact, that is her picture on that easel."

  Mr. Barnes looked, and saw an oil painting representing a marvellouslybeautiful female head. A brunette of strong emotions and great willpower if her portrait were truthful. Here was a significant fact. Mr.Mitchel said that he had been to the Casino with this woman. Wilsonclaimed that they had gone to the house where the murdered woman lay. Itwould seem that Mr. Mitchel's friend must live there, and thus he hadgained access the night before. Did he know that the other also livedthere, and did he go into her apartment after leaving his companion? Asthis passed through Mr. Barnes's mind his eyes wandered across the bed.He saw a waistcoat upon which he observed two buttons similar to theone which he had secreted in his pocket. Stealthily he reached his handtowards the bed, but his fingers had scarcely touched the waistcoat,when Mr. Mitchel said, without turning from his shaving:

  "There is no money in that waistcoat, Mr. Barnes."

  "What do you mean to insinuate," said Mr. Barnes angrily, withdrawinghis hand quickly. Mr. Mitchel paused a moment before replying,deliberately made one or two more sweeps with his razor, then turned andfaced the detective.

  "I mean, Mr. Barnes, that you forgot that I was looking into a mirror."

  "Your remark indicated that I meant to steal."

  "Did it? I am sorry. But really you should not adopt a thief's stealthymethods if you are so sensitive. When I invite a gentleman into myprivate room, I do not expect to have him fingering my clothing whilstmy back is turned."

  "Take care, Mr. Mitchel, you are speaking to a detective. If I didstretch my hand towards your clothing it was with no wrong intent andyou know it."

  "Certainly I do, and what is more I know just what you were wishing todo. You must not get angered so easily. I should not have used the wordswhich I did, but to tell you the truth I was piqued."

  "I don't understand."

  "It hurt my feelings to have you treat me just like an ordinarycriminal. That you should think I would let you come in here and makewhatever examinations you have in your mind, right before my very eyes,wounded my pride. I never should have turned my back upon you exceptthat I faced a mirror. I told you I know what you wished to do. It wasto examine the buttons on my vest, was it not?"

  Mr. Barnes was staggered but did not show it. Calmly he said:

  "As you know, I overheard your conversation on the train. You spoke ofhaving a set of five curious buttons and----"

  "Pardon me, I said six, not five." Once more Mr. Barnes had failed totrap the man. He suggested five, hoping that Mr. Mitchel might claimthat to have been the original number, thus eliminating the lost one.

  "Of course, you did say six, now I remember," he continued, "and I thinkyou will admit it was not unnatural curiosity which led me to wish tosee them, that--that--well that I might recognize them again."

  "A very laudable intent. But my dear Mr. Barnes, I have told you thatyou may call upon me at any time, and ask me any questions you please.Why did you not frankly ask me to show you the buttons?"

  "I should have done so. I do so now."

  "They are in the vest. You may examine them if you desire it."

  Mr. Barnes took up the vest, and was puzzled to find six buttons, threeof Juliet and three of Romeo. Still he was satisfied, for they wereidentical with the one in his pocket. It occurred to him that this manwho was so careful in his precautions, might have lied as to the numberin the set, and have said six when in reality there were seven. A fewquestions about the buttons seemed opportune.

  "These are very beautiful, Mr. Mitchel, and unique too. I have neverheard of cameo buttons before. I think you said they were made expresslyfor you."

  Mr. Mitchel dropped into a cushioned rocker before he replied:

  "These buttons were made for me, and they are exquisite specimens of thegraver's art. Cameo buttons, however, are not so uncommon as yousuppose, though they are more usually worn by women, and, in fact, itwas a woman's idea to have these cut. I should not have----"

  "By Jove!" said Mr. Barnes, "the Romeo buttons are copies from yourlikeness, and good portraits too."

  "Ah! You have noticed that, have you?"

  "Yes, and the Juliets are copies of that picture." Mr. Barnes wasgetting excited, for if these buttons were portraits, and the one in hispocket was that of the woman whose likeness stood on the easel, it wasvery evident that they were connected. Mr. Mitchel eyed him keenly.

  "Mr. Barnes, you are disturbed. What is it?"

  "I am not disturbed."

  "You are, and it is the sight of those buttons which has caused it. Nowtell me your reason for coming here this morning."

  Mr. Barnes thought the time had come to strike a deciding blow.

  "Mr. Mitchel, first answer one question, and think well before youreply. How many buttons were made for this set?"
r />   "Seven," answered Mr. Mitchel, so promptly that Mr. Barnes could onlyrepeat, amazed:

  "Seven? But you said six only a moment ago!"

  "I know what I said. I never forget any statement that I make, and allmy statements are accurate. I said that six is the entire set. Now youask me what was the original number, and I reply seven. Is that clear?"

  "Then the other button has been lost?"

  "Not at all. I know where it is."

  "Then what do you mean by saying that the set now is only six?"

  "Excuse me, Mr. Barnes, if I decline to answer that question. I havereplied now to several since I asked you why you came here thismorning."

  "I will tell you," said the detective, playing his trump card, as hethought. "I have been examining the place where your crime wascommitted, and I have found that seventh button!" If Mr. Barnes expectedMr. Mitchel to recoil with fear, or tremble, or do anything that anordinary criminal does when brought face to face with evidence of hisguilt, he must have been disappointed. But it is safe to assume that bythis time so skillful a man as Mr. Barnes did not expect so consummatean actor as Mr. Mitchel to betray feeling. He did show some interest,however, for he arose from his chair and, walking up to Mr. Barnes, heasked simply:

  "Have you it with you? May I see it?"

  Mr. Barnes hesitated a moment, wondering if he risked losing the buttonby handing it to him. He decided to give it to him, and did so.

  Mr. Mitchel looked at it closely, as though an expert, and after severalmoments of silence, he tossed it carelessly into the air, catching it asit came down, and then said:

  "This would make a pretty situation in a play, Mr. Barnes. Follow me.Detective discovers crime, and finds curious button. Goes straight tocriminal, and boldly tells him of the fact. Criminal admits that he hasbut six buttons out of seven, and asks to see the button found.Detective foolishly hands it to him. Then criminal smiles blandly, andsays: 'Mr. Detective, now I have seven buttons, and my set is completeagain. What are you going to do about it?'"

  "And the detective would reply," said Mr. Barnes, falling into the humorof the situation: "'Mr. Criminal, I will just take that back by force.'"

  "Exactly. You catch the spirit of the stage picture. Then, fight betweentwo men, applause from the gallery, and victory for either party, as theauthor has decided. That is the way it would be done in a play. But inreal life it is different. I simply hand you back your button, thus,"handing button to Mr. Barnes, and bowing politely, and then remarked:"Mr. Barnes, you are welcome to that. It is not a part of my set!"

  "Not a part of your set?" echoed the detective, dumbfounded.

  "Not a part of my set. I am sorry to disappoint you, but so it is. Iwill even explain, for I sympathize with you. I told you the set wasoriginally seven. So it was, but the seventh button has the head ofShakespeare on it. All seven were given to me by my friend, but as Icould wear but six, I returned to her this odd Shakespeare button, whichI had made into a breast-pin, and kept the others, thus reducing the setof buttons to six. The seventh is no longer a button, you see."

  "But how do you account for the fact that this button which I have isplainly a portrait of your friend, and a counterpart to those on yourvest?"

  "My dear Mr. Barnes, I don't account for it. I don't have to, you know.That sort of thing is your business."

  "What if I should decide to arrest you at once, and ask a jury todetermine whether your original set included this button or not?"

  "That would be inconvenient to me, of course. But it is one of thosethings that we risk every day. I mean arrest by some blunderingdetective. Pardon me, do not get angry again; I do not allude toyourself. I am quite sure that you are too shrewd to arrest me."

  "And why so pray?"

  "Because I am surely not going to run away in the first place, andsecondly you would gain nothing, since it would be so easy for me toprove all that I have told you, and in your mind you are saying toyourself that I have not lied to you. Really I have not."

  "I have only one thing more to say to you, Mr. Mitchel," said Mr.Barnes, rising. "Will you show me that seventh button, or breast-pin?"

  "That is asking a great deal, but I will grant your request upon onecondition. Think well before you make the bargain. When I made thatwager I did not calculate the possibility of entangling in my scandalthe name of the woman whom I love dearest on earth. That is the portraitof the woman who will soon become my wife. As I have said, she has theother button and wears it constantly. You will gain nothing by seeingit, for it will simply corroborate my word, which I think you believenow. I will take you to her and she will tell you of these buttons, ifyou promise me never to annoy her in any way in connection with thisaffair."

  "I will give you that promise cheerfully. I have no wish to annoy alady."

  "That is for you to decide. Meet me in the lobby at noon precisely, andI will take you to her house. And now will you excuse me whilst Icomplete my toilet?"

 

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