“DR. DONALDSON:—
“Dear Sir—I believe that I am on the right track, and all through the clue supplied by yourself. Please aid me a little further. I would like to know the exact size of the missing girl. As a physician, you will supply this even better than the father. Also inform me of any mark or peculiarity by which I might recognize her, alive or dead. Please answer at once.
“Yours truly,
“J. BARNES.”
This he sent by a messenger, and received the following in reply:
“MR. BARNES:—
“Dear Sir—I hope you will succeed. Elinora is small and slim, being rather undersized for her age. I should say about four feet ten inches, or thereabout. I know of no distinctive mark whereby her body could be recognized, and hope that nothing of the sort seemingly suggested may be necessary.
“Yours truly,
“ROBERT DONALDSON, M.D.”
Mr. Barnes read this, and appeared more pleased than its contents seemed to authorize. At the appointed time he went to the Hoffman House. He found Mr. Gedney impatiently walking up and down the lobby.
“Mr. Gedney,” said he, “at the beginning of this case you offered me my own price for recovering your daughter. Now, supposing that you pay this ransom, it would appear that you would have had little need of my services. If, however, I get your daughter, and save you the necessity of paying any ransom at all, I suppose you will admit that I have earned my reward?”
“Most assuredly.”
After this, Mr. Gedney was rather startled when he heard what the detective said to “D. M.” through the telephone. They shut themselves up in the little box, and very soon received the call and then the signal “D. M.” as agreed. Mr. Barnes spoke to the abductor, who presumably was listening.
“We agree to your terms,” said he. “That is, we will pay twenty thousand dollars for the return of the girl unharmed. You are so shrewd that we suppose you will invent some scheme for receiving the money which will protect you from arrest, but at the same time we must be assured that the girl will be returned to us unharmed. In fact, she must be given to us as soon as the money is paid. Notify us immediately, as the father is in a hurry.”
Mr. Barnes put up the instrument and “rang off.” Then he turned to Mr. Gedney and said:
“That may surprise you. But what may astonish you more is that you must obtain twenty thousand dollars in cash at once. We will need it. Ask no questions, but depend upon me and trust me.”
On the next day Mr. Gedney received the following letter:
“You have more sense than I gave you credit for. So has that Barnes fellow, for it was his voice I heard through the ’phone. You accept my terms. Very well. I’ll deal square and not raise you, though I ought to have made it twenty-five thousand at least. Come to the ’phone to-day, same hour, and I’ll ring you up, from a different station. Then you can tell me if you will be ready to-night, or to-morrow night. Either will suit me. Then here is the plan. You want to be sure the girl is all right. Then let the ambassador be your friend, Doctor Donaldson. He knows the girl and can tell that she is all right. Let him start from his house at midnight, and drive from his office up Madison Avenue rapidly till hailed by the signal D. M. He must go fast enough to prevent being followed on foot. If there is no detective with him or following him, he will be hailed. Otherwise he will be allowed to pass. I will be in hiding with the girl. Warn the doctor that I will be armed, and will have a bead on him all the time. Any treachery will mean death. I will take the cash, give up the girl, and the transaction will be ended.”
When this was shown to the detective, he proposed that he and Mr. Gedney should call upon the doctor. This they did, and, after some argument, persuaded him to undertake the recovery of the girl that same night.
“Mr. Gedney has decided to obtain his child at any sacrifice,” said Mr. Barnes, “and this scoundrel is so shrewd that there seems to be no way to entrap him. No effort will be made to follow you, so you need have no fear of any trouble from the thief. Only be sure that you obtain the right girl. It would be just possible that a wrong one might be given to you, and a new ransom demanded.”
“Oh, I shall know Elinora,” said the doctor. “I will do this, but I think we ought to arrest the villain, if possible.”
“I do not despair of doing so,” said Mr. Barnes. “Get a glimpse of his face if you can, and be sure to note where you receive the girl. When we get her she may give me a clue upon which an arrest may be made. We will wait for you at Mr. Gedney’s house.”
After midnight that night, Mr. Gedney paced the floor anxiously, while Mr. Barnes sat at a desk looking over some memoranda. Presently he went into the hall and had a long talk with the butler. One o’clock passed, and still no news. At half-past, however, horses’ hoofs sounded upon the asphalt pavement, and a few minutes later the door-bell jingled. The door was quickly opened, and the doctor entered, bearing little Elinora asleep in his arms.
“My daughter!” exclaimed the excited father. “Thank God, she is restored to me!”
“Yes,” said the doctor, “here she is, safe and sound. I think, though, that she has been drugged, for she has slept ever since I received her.”
“Did you have any trouble?” asked Mr. Barnes, entering at this moment. He had lingered outside in the hall long enough to exchange a word with the butler.
“None,” said the doctor. “At One Hundred and Second Street I heard the signal and stopped. A man came out of the shadow of a building, looked into the carriage, said ‘All right,’ and asked if I had the cash. I replied affirmatively. He went back to the sidewalk and returned with the child in his arms, but with a pistol pointed at me. Then he said, ‘Pass out the money.’ I did so, and he seemed satisfied, for he gave me the child, took the package, and ran off. I saw his face, but I fear my description will not avail you, for I am sure he was disguised.”
“Very possibly your description will be useless,” said Mr. Barnes; “but I have discovered the identity of the abductor.”
“Impossible!” cried the doctor, amazed.
“Let me prove that I am right,” said Mr. Barnes. He went to the door and admitted the butler, accompanied by the policeman who had been off his beat talking with the maid. Before his companions understood what was about to happen, Mr. Barnes said:
“Officer, arrest that man!” Whereupon the policeman seized the doctor and held him as though in a vise.
“What does this outrage mean?” screamed the doctor, after ineffectually endeavoring to release himself.
“Put on the manacles, officer,” said Mr. Barnes; “then we can talk. He is armed, and might become dangerous.” With the assistance of the detective this was accomplished, and then Mr. Barnes addressed himself to Mr. Gedney.
“Mr. Gedney, I had some slight suspicion of the truth after questioning the butler and the maid, but the first real clue came with the answer to the ‘Personal.’ You brought that to me in the morning, and I noted that it was postmarked at the main office downtown at six A.M. Of course, it was possible that it might have been written after the appearance of the newspaper, but if so, the thief was up very early. The doctor, however, knew of the ‘Personal’ on the day previous, as I told him of it in your presence. That letter was written in typewriting, and I observed a curious error in the spelling of three words. I found the words ‘emphasize,’ ‘recognize,’ and ‘recognizing.’ In each, instead of the ‘z’ we have a repetition of the ‘i,’ that letter being doubled. I happen to know something about writing-machines. I felt certain that this letter had been written upon a Caligraph. In that machine the bar which carries the letter ‘i’ is next to that which carries the letter ‘z.’ It is not an uncommon thing when a typewriter is out of order for two bars to fail to pass one another. Thus, in writing ‘emphasize’ the rapid writer would strike the ‘z’ key before the ‘i’ had fully descended. The result would b
e that the ‘z’ rising, would strike the ‘i’ bar and carry it up again, thus doubling the ‘i’ instead of writing ‘iz.’ The repetition of the mistake was evidence that it was a faulty machine. I also noted that this anonymous letter was upon paper from which the top had been torn away. I wrote to the doctor here, asking about the ‘size’ of the girl, and for any marks whereby we might be able to ‘recognize’ the body. I used the words ‘size’ and ‘recognize’ hoping to tempt him to use them also in reply. In his answer I find the word ‘recognized’ and also a similar word, ‘undersized.’ In both we have a repetition of the double ‘i’ error. Moreover, the paper of this letter from the doctor matched that upon which the anonymous communication had been written, provided I tore off the top, which bore his letterhead. This satisfied me that the doctor was our man. When the last letter came, proposing that he should be the ambassador, the trick was doubly sure. It was ingenious, for the abductor of course assured himself that he was not followed, and simply brought the girl home. But I set another trap. I secretly placed a cyclometer upon the doctor’s carriage. He says that to-night he drove to One Hundred and Second Street, and back here, a total of ten miles. The cyclometer, which the butler obtained for me when the doctor arrived a while ago, shows that he drove less than a mile. He simply waited at his house until the proper time to come, and then drove here, bringing the girl with him.”
The doctor remained silent, but glared venomously at the man who had outwitted him.
“But how did he get Elinora?” asked Mr. Gedney.
“That queer yarn which he told us about somnambulism first suggested to me that he was possibly less ignorant than he pretended to be. I fear, Mr. Gedney, that your daughter is ill. I judge from the description of her condition, given by her maid, and admitted by this man, that she was suffering from an attack of catalepsy24 when he was summoned. When he called the next day, finding the girl still in a trance, he quickly dressed her and took her out to his carriage. Then he coolly returned, announced that she was not in her room, and drove away with her.”
“It seems incredible!” exclaimed Mr. Gedney. “I have known the doctor so long that it is hard to believe that he is a criminal.”
“Criminals,” said Mr. Barnes, “are often created by opportunity. That was probably the case here. The case is most peculiar. It is a crime which none but a physician could have conceived, and that one fact makes possible what to a casual observer might seem most improbable. An abduction is rarely successful, because of the difficulties which attend the crime, not the least of which are the struggles of the victim, and the story which will be told after the return of the child. Here all this was obviated. The doctor recognized catalepsy at the first visit. Perhaps during the night the possibility of readily compelling you to pay him a large sum of money grew into a tremendous temptation. With the project half formed, he called the next morning. Circumstances favored the design. He found the girl unattended, and unresistant because of her condition. He likewise knew that when he should have returned her, she could tell nothing of where she had been, because of her trance. He started downstairs with her. There was no risk. If he had met any one, any excuse for bringing her from her room would have been accepted, because uttered by the family physician. He placed her in the carriage unobserved, and the most difficult part of the affair was accomplished. Many men of high degree are at heart rascals; but through fear, either of law or loss of position, they lead fairly virtuous lives. Temptation, accompanied by opportunity, coming to one of these, compasses his downfall, as has occurred in this instance. Criminals are recruited from all classes.”
The ransom money was recovered by searching the apartments of the doctor, and his guilt was thus indubitably proven. Mr. Mitchel, commenting upon the affair, simply said:
“I sent you to him, Mr. Gedney, because Mr. Barnes is above his kind. He is no ordinary detective.”
23 This story first appeared in The Idler in March 1895.
24 A medical condition exhibiting a trance or seizure, including loss of motor control or rigidity. Historically, this was a diagnosis; today, catalepsy is viewed as a symptom of a nervous disorder such as Parkinson’s disease or epilepsy.
VI: The Aztec Opal25
“Mr. Mitchel,” began Mr. Barnes, after exchanging greetings, “I have called to see you upon a subject which I am sure will enlist your keenest interest, for several reasons. It relates to a magnificent jewel; it concerns your intimate friends; and it is a problem requiring the most analytical qualities of the mind in its solution.”
“Ah, then you have solved it?” asked Mr. Mitchel.
“I think so. You shall judge. I have to-day been called in to investigate one of the most singular cases that has fallen in my way. It is one in which the usual detective methods would be utterly valueless. The facts were presented to me, and the solution of the mystery could only be reached by analytical deductions.”
“That is to say, by using your brains?”
“Precisely. Now, as you have admitted that you consider yourself more expert in this direction than the ordinary detective, I wish to place you for once in the position of a detective, and then see you prove your ability.
“Early this morning I was summoned, by a messenger, to go aboard of the steam yacht Idler which lay at anchor in the lower bay.”
“Why, the Idler belongs to my friend, Mortimer Gray!” exclaimed Mr. Mitchel.
“Yes,” replied Mr. Barnes; “I told you that your friends are interested. I went immediately with the man who had come to my office, and in due season I was aboard of the yacht. Mr. Gray received me very politely, and took me to his private room adjoining the cabin. Here he explained to me that he had been off on a cruise for a few weeks, and was approaching the harbor last night, when, in accordance with his plans, a sumptuous dinner was served, as a sort of farewell feast, the party expecting to separate to-day.”
“What guests were on the yacht?”
“I will tell you everything in order, as the facts were presented to me. Mr. Gray enumerated the party as follows: besides himself and his wife, there were his wife’s sister, Mrs. Eugene Cortlandt, and her husband, a Wall Street broker; also, Mr. Arthur Livingstone and his sister, and a Mr. Dennett Moore, a young man supposed to be devoting himself to Miss Livingstone.”
“That makes seven persons, three of whom are women. I ought to say, Mr. Barnes, that, though Mr. Gray is a club friend, I am not personally acquainted with his wife, nor with the others. So I have no advantage over you.”
“I will come at once to the curious incident which made my presence desirable. According to Mr. Gray’s story, the dinner had proceeded as far as the roast, when suddenly there was a slight shock as the yacht touched a bar, and at the same time the lamps spluttered and then went out, leaving the room totally dark. A second later the vessel righted herself and sped on, so that, before any panic ensued, it was evident to all that the danger had passed. The gentlemen begged the ladies to resume their seats, and remain quiet till the lamps were lighted; this, however, the attendants were unable to do, and they were ordered to bring fresh lamps. Thus there was almost total darkness for several minutes.”
“During which, I presume, the person who planned the affair readily consummated his design?”
“So you think that the whole series of events was prearranged? Be that as it may, something did happen in that dark room. The women had started from their seats when the yacht touched, and when they groped their way back in the darkness some of them found the wrong places, as was seen when the fresh lamps were brought. This was considered a good joke, and there was some laughter, which was suddenly checked by an exclamation from Mr. Gray, who quickly asked his wife, ‘Where is your opal?’”
“Her opal?” asked Mr. Mitchel, in tones which showed that his greatest interest was now aroused. “Do you mean, Mr. Barnes, that she was wearing the Aztec Opal?”
“Oh, you know the
gem?”
“I know nearly all gems of great value; but what of this one?”
“Mrs. Gray and her sister, Mrs. Cortlandt, had both donned décolleté costumes for this occasion, and Mrs. Gray had worn this opal as a pendant to a thin gold chain which hung around her neck. At Mr. Gray’s question, all looked towards his wife, and it was noted that the clasp was open, and the opal missing. Of course it was supposed that it had merely fallen to the floor, and a search was immediately instituted. But the opal could not be found.”
“That is certainly a very significant fact,” said Mr. Mitchel. “But was the search thorough?”
“I should say extremely thorough, when we consider it was not conducted by a detective, who is supposed to be an expert in such matters. Mr. Gray described to me what was done, and he seems to have taken every precaution. He sent the attendants out of the salon, and he and his guests systematically examined every part of the room.”
“Except the place where the opal really was concealed, you mean.”
“With that exception, of course, since they did not find the jewel. Not satisfied with this search by lamplight, Mr. Gray locked the salon, so that no one could enter it during the night, and another investigation was made in the morning.”
“The pockets of the seven persons present were not examined, I presume?”
“No. I asked Mr. Gray why this had been omitted, and he said it was an indignity which he could not possibly show to a guest. As you have asked this question, Mr. Mitchel, it is only fair for me to tell you that when I spoke to Mr. Gray on the subject he seemed very much confused. Nevertheless, however unwilling he may have been to search those of his guests who are innocent, he emphatically told me that if I had reasonable proof that any one present had purloined the opal, he wished that individual to be treated as any other thief, without regard to sex or social position.”
“One can scarcely blame him, because that opal is worth a fabulous sum. I have myself offered Gray twenty thousand dollars for it, which was refused. This opal is one of the eyes of an Aztec idol, and if the other could be found, the two would be as interesting as any jewels in the world.”
Final Proof Page 17