'Got the hut to yourself?'
'Yes, sir.'
Without another word, Mr Mills walked to the door of the hut. The man, his face suddenly growing pale, moved, and stood with his back to it.
'It's – it's private, sir!' he growled.
Hazell laughed. 'All right, my man,' he said. 'I was right, I think – hullo! – look out! Don't let him go!'
For the man had made a quick rush forward. But the Scotland Yard officer and Hazell were on him in a moment, and a few seconds later the handcuffs clicked on his wrists. Then they flung the door open, and there, lying in the corner, gagged and bound, was Horace CarrMathers.
An exclamation of joy broke forth from Wingrave, as he opened his knife to cut the cords. But Hazell stopped him.
'Just half a moment,' he said: 'I want to see how they've tied him up.'
A peculiar method had been adopted in doing this. His wrists were fastened behind his back, a stout cord was round his body just under the armpits, and another cord above the knees. These were connected by a slack bit of rope.
'All right!' went on Hazell; 'let's get the poor lad out of his troubles – there, that's better. How do you feel, my boy?'
'Awfully stiff!' said Horace, 'but I'm not hurt. I say, sir,' he continued to Wingrave, 'how did you know I was here? I am glad you've come.'
'The question is how did you get here?' replied Wingrave. 'Mr Hazell, here, seemed to know where you were, but it's a puzzle to me at present.'
'If you'd come half an hour later you wouldn't have found him,' growled the man who was handcuffed. 'I ain't so much to blame as them as employed me.'
'Oh, is that how the land lies?' exclaimed Hazell. 'I see. You shall tell us presently, my boy, how it happened. Meanwhile, Mr Mills, I think we can prepare a little trap – eh?'
In five minutes all was arranged. A couple of the navvies were brought up from the line, one stationed outside to guard against trains, and with certain other instructions, the other being inside the hut with the rest of them. A third navvy was also dispatched for the police.
'How are they coming?' asked Hazell of the handcuffed man.
'They were going to take a train down from London to Rockhampstead on the East-Northern, and drive over. It's about ten miles off.'
'Good! They ought soon to be here,' replied Hazell, as he munched some biscuits and washed them down with a draught of milk, after which he astonished them all by solemnly going through one of his 'digestive exercises'.
A little later they heard the sound of wheels on a road beside the line. Then the man on watch said, in gruff tones:
'The boy's inside!'
But they found more than the boy inside, and an hour later all three conspirators were safely lodged in Longmoor gaol.
'Oh, it was awfully nasty, I can tell you,' said Horace Carr-Mathers, as he explained matters afterwards. 'I went into the corridor, you know, and was looking about at things, when all of a sudden I felt my coat-collar grasped behind, and a hand was laid over my mouth. I tried to kick and shout, but it was no go. They got me into the compartment, stuffed a handkerchief into my mouth, and tied it in. It was just beastly. Then they bound me hand and foot, and opened the window on the right-hand side – opposite the corridor. I was in a funk, for I thought they were going to throw me out, but one of them told me to keep my pecker up, as they weren't going to hurt me. Then they let me down out of the window by that slack rope, and made it fast to the handle of the door outside. It was pretty bad. There was I, hanging from the door-handle in a sort of doubled-up position, my back resting on the foot-board of the carriage, and the train rushing along like mad. I felt sick and awful, and I had to shut my eyes. I seemed to hang there for ages.'
'I told you you only examined the inside of the train,' said Thorpe Hazell to Wingrave. 'I had my suspicions that he was somewhere on the outside all the time, but I was puzzled to know where. It was a clever trick.'
'Well,' went on the boy, 'I heard the window open above me after a bit. I looked up and saw one of the men taking the rope off the handle. The train was just beginning to slow down. Then he hung out of the window, dangling me with one hand. It was horrible. I was hanging below the footboard now. Then the train came almost to a stop, and someone caught me round the waist. I lost my senses for a minute or two, and then I found myself lying in the hut.'
'Well, Mr Hazell,' said the assistant-superintendent, 'you were perfectly right, and we all owe you a debt of gratitude.'
'Oh,' said Hazell, 'it was only a guess at the best. I presumed it was simply kidnapping, and the problem to be solved was how and where the boy was got off the train without injury. It was obvious that he had been disposed of before the train reached London. There was only one other inference. The man on duty was evidently the confederate, for, if not, his presence would have stopped the whole plan of action. I'm very glad to have been of any use. There are interesting points about the case, and it has been a pleasure to me to undertake it.'
A little while afterwards Mr Carr-Mathers himself called on Hazell to thank him.
'I should like,' he said, 'to express my deep gratitude substantially; but I understand you are not an ordinary detective. But is there any way in which I can serve you, Mr Hazell?'
'Yes – two ways.'
'Please name them.'
'I should be sorry for Mr Wingrave to get into trouble through this affair – or Dr Spring either.'
'I understand you, Mr Hazell. They were both to blame, in a way. But I will see that Dr Spring's reputation does not suffer, and that Wingrave comes out of it harmlessly.'
'Thank you very much.'
'You said there was a second way in which I could serve you.'
'So there is. At Dunn's sale last month you were the purchaser of two first editions of The New Bath Guide. If you cared to dispose of one, I – '
'Say no more, Mr Hazell. I shall be glad to give you one for your collection.'
Hazell stiffened.
'You misunderstand me!' he exclaimed icily. 'I was about to add that if you cared to dispose of a copy I would write you out a cheque.'
'Oh, certainly,' replied Mr Carr-Mathers with a smile, 'I shall be extremely pleased.'
Whereupon the transaction was concluded.
Mr Barnes and Mr Mitchel
Created by Rodrigues Ottolengui (1861 – 1937)
BORN IN CHARLESTON, South Carolina in the year the American Civil War began, Ottolengui moved to New York in his teens to study dentistry and remained there for the rest of his life. When he died in 1937, most of his obituaries concentrated on his career as a pioneering dentist (he was one of the first practitioners in America to make use of Xrays) and on his status as an amateur entomologist who had become one of the world's leading experts on a particular family of moths. Few made much of the crime fiction he had published in the 1890s but Ottolengui's novels and (particularly) short stories featuring the professional detective Mr Barnes and the wealthy amateur Mr Mitchel are well worth reading. 'The Azteck Opal', originally published in The Idler in April 1895, is probably the best of them all.
The Azteck Opal
'MR MITCHEL,' BEGAN Mr Barnes, the detective, 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 today 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 deduction.'
'That is to say, by using your brains?'
'Precisely! Now, 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 harbour last night, when, in accordance with his plans, a sumptuous dinner was served, as a sort of farewell feast, the party expecting to separate today.'
'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 Dermett 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, 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 until 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 pre-arranged? 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 Azteck 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 round 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 that 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 was worth a fabulous sum. I have myself offered Gray twenty-five thousand dollars for it, which was refused. This opal is one of the eyes of an Azteck Idol, and if the other could be found, the two would be as interesting as any jewels in the world.'
'That is the story which I was asked to unravel,' continued Mr Barnes, 'and I must now relate to you what steps I have taken towards that end. It appears that, because of the loss of the jewels, no person has left the yacht, although no restraint was placed upon any one by Mr Gray. All knew, however, that he had sent for a detective, and it was natural that no one should offer to go until formally dismissed by the host. My plan, then, was to have a private interview with each of the seven persons who had been present at the dinner.'
'Then you exempted the attendants from your suspicions?'
'I did. There was but one way by which one of the servants could have stolen the opal, and this was prevented by Mr Gray. It was possible that the opal had fallen on the floor, and, though not found at night, a servant might have discovered and have appropriated it on the following morning, had he been able to enter the salon. But Mr Gray had locked the doors. No servant, however bold, would have been able to take the opal from the lady's neck.'
'I think your reasoning is good, and we will confine ourselves to the original seven.'
'After my interview with Mr Gray, I asked to have Mrs Gray sent in to me. She came in, and at once I noted that she placed herself on the defensive. Women frequently adopt that manner with a detective. Her story was very brief. The main point was that she was aware of the theft before the lamps were relighted. In fact, she felt some one's arms steal around her neck, and knew when the opal was taken. I asked why she had made no outcry, and whether she suspected any special person. To these questions she replied that she supposed it was merely a joke perpetrated in the darkness, and therefore had made no resistance. She would not name any one as suspected by her, but she was willing to tell me that the arms were bare, as she detected when they touched her neck. I must say here, that although Miss Livingstone's dress was not cut low in the neck, it was, practically, sleeveless; and Mrs Cortlandt's dress had no sleeves at all. One other significant statement made by this lady was that her husband had mentioned to her your offer of twenty-five thousand dollars for the opal, and had urged her to permit him to sell it, but she had refused.'
'So! It was Madam that would not sell. The plot thickens!'
'You will observe, of course, the point about the naked arms of the thief. I therefore sent for Mrs Cortlandt next. She had a curious story to tell. Unlike her sister, she was quite willing to express her suspicions. Indeed, she plainly intimated that she supposed that Mr Gray himself had taken the jewel. I will endeavour to repeat her words:
'"Mr Barnes," said she, "the affair is very simple. Gray is a miserable old skinflint. A Mr Mitchel, a crank who collects gems, offered to buy that opal, and he has been bothering my sister for it ever since. When the lamps went out, he took the opportunity to steal it. I do not think this, I know it. How? Well, on account of the confusion and darkness, I sat in my sister's seat when I returned to the table. This explains his mistake, but he put his arms round my neck, and deliberately felt for the opal. I did not understand his purpose at the time, but now it is very evident."
'"Yes, madam," said I, "but how do you know it was Mr Gray?"
'"Why
, I grabbed his hand, and before he could pull it away I felt the large cameo ring on his little finger. Oh! there is no doubt whatever."
'I asked her whether Mr Gray had his sleeves rolled up, and though she could not understand the purport of the question, she said "No". Next I had Miss Livingstone come in. She is a slight, tremulous young lady, who cries at the slightest provocation. During the interview, brief as it was, it was only by the greatest diplomacy that I avoided a scene of hysterics. She tried very hard to convince me that she knew absolutely nothing. She had not left her seat during the disturbance; of that she was sure. So how could she know anything about it? I asked her to name the one whom she thought might have taken the opal, and at this her agitation reached such a climax that I was obliged to let her go.'
'You gained very little from her I should say.'
Rivals of Sherlock Holmes, The Page 22