The Mardi Gras Mystery

by H. Bedford-Jones

  Produced by Darleen Dove, Ernest Schaal, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

  THE MARDI GRAS MYSTERY

  BOOKS BY H. BEDFORD-JONES

  CONQUEST

  CROSS AND THE HAMMER: A TALE OF THE DAYS OF THE VIKINGS

  FLAMEHAIR THE SKALD: A TALE OF THE DAYS OF HARDREDE GOLDEN GHOST

  THE MESA TRAIL

  THE MARDI GRAS MYSTERY

  UNDER FIRE

  "_'You frightened me, holy man!' she cried gaily.'Confess to you, indeed! Not I.'_"]

  THE MARDI GRAS MYSTERY

  BY H. BEDFORD-JONES

 

  FRONTISPIECE BY JOHN NEWTON HOWITT

  GARDEN CITY, N. Y., AND TORONTO DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1921

  COPYRIGHT, 1920, 1921, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I. CARNIVAL 3

  II. MASQUERS 21

  III. THE BANDIT 38

  IV. CALLERS 58

  V. THE MASQUER UNMASKS 82

  VI. CHACHERRE 107

  VII. IN THE OPEN 125

  VIII. COMUS 143

  IX. ON THE BAYOU 169

  X. MURDER 190

  XI. THE GANGSTERS 209

  XII. THE ULTIMATUM 228

  XIII. THE COIN FALLS HEADS 249

  XIV. CHACHERRE'S BUNDLE 262

  XV. WHEN THE HEAVENS FALL 280

  XVI. THE IMPREGNABILITY OF MR. FELL 299

  XVII. MI-CAREME 310

  THE MARDI GRAS MYSTERY

  THE MARDI GRAS MYSTERY

  CHAPTER I

  _Carnival_

  Jachin Fell pushed aside the glass curtains between the voluminousover-draperies in the windows of the Chess and Checkers Club, and gazedout upon the riotous streets of New Orleans. Half an hour he had beenwaiting here in the lounge room for Dr. Cyril Ansley, a middle-agedbachelor who had practised in Opelousas for twenty years, and who hadcome to the city for the Mardi Gras festivities. Another man might haveseemed irritated by the wait, but Jachin Fell was quite unruffled.

  He had much the air of a clerk. His features were thin and unremarkable;his pale eyes constantly wore an expression of wondering aloofness, asthough he saw around him much that he vainly tried to understand. In hisentire manner was a shy reticence. He was no clerk, however, this wasevident from his attire. He was garbed from head to foot in soberlyblending shades of gray whose richness was notable only at close view.One fancied him a very precise sort of man, an old maid of the wrongsex.

  Doctor Ansley, an Inverness flung over his evening clothes, entered thelounge room, and Fell turned to him with a dry, toneless chuckle.

  "You're the limit! Did you forget we were going to the Maillards'to-night?"

  Ansley appeared vexed and irritated. "Confound it, Fell!" he exclaimed."I've been all over town looking for El Reys. Caught in a crowd--no ElReys yet!"

  Again Fell uttered his toneless chuckle. His voice was absolutely level,unmarked by any change of inflection.

  "My dear fellow, there are only three places in the city that can affordto carry El Reys in these parlous times! This club, however, happens tobe one of the three. Here, sit down and forget your troubles over a realsmoke! We need not leave for fifteen minutes yet, at least."

  Doctor Ansley laid aside his cape, stick, and hat, and dropped into oneof the comfortable big chairs. He accepted the proffered cigar with asigh. Across his knees he laid an evening paper, whose flaring headlinesproclaimed an extra.

  "I suppose you've been gadding all around the town ever since theRevellers opened the season?" he inquired.

  "Hardly," said Fell with his shy air. "I'm growing a bit stiff with age,as Eliza said when she crossed the ice. I don't gad much."

  "You intend to mask for the Maillards'?" Ansley cast his eye over thegray business attire of the little man.

  "I never mask." Jachin Fell shook his head. "I'll get a domino and go asI am. Excuse me--I'll order a domino now, and also provide a few more ElReys for the evening. Back in a moment."

  Doctor Ansley, who was himself a non-resident member of the club andsocially prominent when he could grant himself leisure for society,followed the slight figure of the other man with speculative eyes. Wellas he knew Jachin Fell, he invariably found the man a source of puzzledspeculation.

  During many years Jachin Fell had been a member of the most exclusiveNew Orleans clubs. He was even received in the inner circles of Creolesociety, which in itself was evidence supreme as to his position. Atthis particular club he was famed as a wizard master of chess. He neverentered a tournament, yet he consistently defeated the champions inprivate matches--defeated them with a bewildering ease, a shy andapologetic ease, an ease which left the beholders incredulous andaghast.

  With all this, Jachin Fell was very much of a mystery, even among hisclosest friends. Very little was known of him; he was inconspicuous to adegree, and it was usually assumed that he was something of a recluse,the result of a thwarted love affair in his youth. He was a lawyer, andcertainly maintained offices in the Maison Blanche building, but henever appeared in the courts and no case of his pleading was known.

  It was said that he lived in the rebuilt casa of some old Spanishgrandee in the Vieux Carre, and that this residence of his was averitable treasure-trove of historic and beautiful things. This was mererumour, adding a spice of romance to the general mystery. Ansley knewhim as well as did most men, and Ansley knew of a few who could boast ofhaving been a guest in Jachin Fell's home. There was a mother, aninvalid of whom Fell sometimes spoke and to whom he appeared to devotehimself. The family, an old one in the city, promised to die out withJachin Fell.

  Ansley puffed at his cigar and considered these things. Outside, in theNew Orleans streets, was rocketing the mad mirth of carnival. The weekpreceding Mardi Gras was at its close. Since the beginning of the newyear the festival had been celebrated in a steadily climaxing series ofballs and entert
ainments, largely by the older families who kept to theold customs, and to a smaller extent by society at large. Now the finalweek was at hand, or rather the final three days--the period of thegreat balls, the period when tourists were flooding into town; fortourists, the whole time of Mardi Gras was comprised within these threedays. Despite agonized predictions, prohibition had not adverselyaffected Mardi Gras or the gaiety of its celebration.

  Now, as ever, was Mardi Gras symbolized by masques. In New Orleans themasquerade was not the pale and pitiful frolic of colder climes, wherethe occasion is but one for display of jewels and costumes, and whereactual concealment of identity is a farce. Here in New Orleans werejewels and costumes in a profusion of splendour; but here was preservedthe underlying idea of the masque itself--that in concealment ofidentity lay the life of the thing! Masquers swept the streets gaily; ifharlequin husband flirted with domino wife--why, so much the merrier!There was little harm in the Latin masque, and great mirth.

  When Jachin Fell returned and lighted his cigar he sank into one of theluxurious chairs beside Ansley and indicated the newspaper lying acrossthe latter's knee, its flaring headlines standing out blackly.

  "What's that about the Midnight Masquer? He's not appeared again?"

  "What?" Ansley glanced at him in surprise. "You've not heard?"

  Fell shook his head. "I seldom read the papers."

  "Good heavens, man! He showed up last night at the Lapeyrouse dance, twominutes before midnight, as usual! A detective had been engaged, but wasafterward found locked in a closet, bound with his own handcuffs. TheMasquer wore his usual costume--and went through the party famously,stripping everyone in sight. Then he backed through the doors andvanished. How he got in they can't imagine; where he went they can'timagine, unless it was by airplane. He simply appeared, then vanished!"

  Fell settled deeper into his chair, pointed his cigar at the ceiling,and sighed.

  "Ah, most interesting! The loot was valued at about a hundred thousand?"

  "I thought you said you'd not heard of it?" demanded Ansley.

  Fell laughed softly and shyly. "I didn't. I merely hazarded a guess."

  "Wizard!" The doctor laughed in unison. "Yes, about that amount.Exaggerated, of course; still, there were jewels of great value----"

  "The Masquer is a piker," observed Fell, in his toneless voice.

  "Eh? A piker--when he can make a hundred-thousand-dollar haul?"

  "Don't dream that those figures represent value, Doctor. They don't! Allthe loot the Masquer has taken since he began work is worth little tohim. Jewels are hard to sell. This game of banditry is romantic, butit's out of date these days. Of course, the crook has obtained a bit ofmoney, but not enough to be worth the risk."

  "Yet he has got quite a bit," returned Ansley, thoughtfully. "All themen have money, naturally; we don't want to find ourselves bare at somegay carnival moment! I'll warrant you've a hundred or so in your pocketright now!"

  "Not I," rejoined Fell, calmly. "One ten-dollar bill. Also I left mywatch at home. And I'm not dressed; I don't care to lose my pearlstuds."

  "Eh?" Ansley frowned. "What do you mean?"

  Jachin Fell took a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to thephysician.

  "I met Maillard at the bank this morning. He called me into his officeand handed me this--he had just received it in the mail."

  Doctor Ansley opened the folded paper; an exclamation broke from him ashe read the note, which was addressed to their host of the evening.

  JOSEPH MAILLARD, President, Exeter National Bank, City.

  I thank you for the masque you are giving to-night. I shall be present. Please see that Mrs. M. wears her diamonds--I need them.

  THE MIDNIGHT MASQUER.

  Ansley glanced up. "What's this--some hoax? Some carnival jest?"

  "Maillard pretended to think so." Fell shrugged his shoulders as herepocketed the note. "But he was nervous. He was afraid of being laughedat, and wouldn't go to the police. But he'll have a brace of detectivesinside the house to-night, and others outside."

  Ever since the first ball of the year by the Twelfth Night Club thisMidnight Masquer, as he was termed, had held New Orleans gripped interror, fascination, and vivid interest. Until a month previous to thisweek of Mardi Gras he had operated rarely; he had robbed with a starkand inelegant forcefulness, a brutality. Suddenly his methodschanged--he appeared and transacted his business with a romanticcourtesy, a daredevil gaiety; his robberies became bizarre andextraordinary.

  During the past month he appeared at least once a week, now at someprivate ball, now at some restaurant banquet, but always in the samegarb: the helmet, huge goggles and mask, and leathern clothes of aservice aviator. On these occasions the throbbing roar of an airplanemotor had been reported so that it was popular gossip that he landed onthe roof of his designated victims and made his getaway in the samemanner--by airplane. No machine had ever been seen, and the theory wasbelieved by some, hooted at by others.

  The police were helpless. The Midnight Masquer laughed openly at themand conducted his depredations with brazen unconcern, appearing where hewas least expected. The anti-administration papers were clamouring abouta "crime wave" and "organization of crooks," but without any visiblebasis for such clamours. The Midnight Masquer worked alone.

  Doctor Ansley glanced at his watch, and deposited his cigar in an ashtray.

  "We'd best be moving, Fell. You'll want a domino?"

  "I ordered one when I got my cigars. It'll be here in a minute."

  "Do you seriously think that note is genuine?"

  Fell shrugged lightly. "Who knows? I'm not worried. Maillard can affordto be robbed. It will be interesting to see how he takes it if thefellow does show up."

  "You're a calm one!" Ansley chuckled. "Oh, I believe the prince is to bethere to-night. You've met him, I suppose?"

  "No. I've had a rush of business lately, as Eliza said when she crossedthe ice: haven't gone out much. Heard something about him, though. AnAmerican, isn't he? They say he's become quite popular in town."

  Ansley nodded. "Quite a fine chap. His mother was an American--shemarried the Prince de Gramont; an international affair of the pastgeneration. De Gramont led her a dog's life, I hear, until he was killedin a duel. She lived in Paris with the boy, sent him to school here athome, and he was at Yale when the war broke. He was technically a Frenchsubject, so he went back to serve his time.

  "Still, he's an American now. Calls himself Henry Gramont, and woulddrop the prince stuff altogether if these French people around herewould let him. He's supposed to be going into some kind of business, butjust now he's having the time of his life. Every old dowager is tryingto catch him."

  Jachin Fell nodded. "I've no use for nobility; a rotten crowd! But thischap appears interesting. I'll be glad to size him up. Ah, here's mydomino now!"

  A page brought the domino. Fell, discarding the mask, threw the dominoabout his shoulders, and the two men left the club in company.

  They sought their destination afoot--the home of the banker JosephMaillard. The streets were riotous, filled with an eddying, laughingcrowd of masquers and merrymakers of all ages and sexes; confettitwirled through the air, horns were deafening, and laughing voices roseinto sharp screams of unrestrained delight.

  Here and there appeared the rather constrained figures of tourists fromthe North. These, staid and unable to throw themselves into the utterabandon of this carnival spirit, could but stare in perplexed wonder atthe scene, so alien to them, while they marvelled at the gaiety of theseSouthern folk who could go so far with liberty and yet not overstep thebounds of license.

  At last gaining St. Charles Avenue, with the Maillard residence ahalf-dozen blocks distant, the two companions found themselves well awayfrom the main carnival throngs. Even here, however, was no lack ofrevellers afoot for the evening--stray flotsam of the downtown crowds,or members of neighbourhood gatherings on their way to entertainment.
>
  As the two walked along they were suddenly aware of a lithe figureapproaching from the rear; with a running leap and an exclamation ofdelight the figure forced itself in between them, grasping an arm ofeither man, and a bantering voice broke in upon their train of talk.

  "Forfeit!" it cried. "Forfeit--where are your masks, sober gentlemen?This grave physician may be pardoned, but not a domino who refuses tomask! And for forfeit you shall be my escort and take me whither you aregoing."

  Laughing, the two fell into step, glancing at the gay figure betweenthem. A Columbine, she was both cloaked and masked. Encircling her hairwas a magnificent scarf shot with metal designs of solid gold--a mostunusual thing. Also, from her words it was evident that she hadrecognized them.

  "Willingly, fair Columbine," responded Fell in his dry and unimpassionedtone of voice. "We shall be most happy, indeed, to protect and take youwith us----"

  "So far as the door, at least," interrupted Ansley, with evidentcaution. But Fell drily laughed aside this wary limitation.

  "Nay, good physician, farther!" went on Fell. "Our Columbine has anexcellent passport, I assure you. This gauzy scarf about her raventresses was woven for the good Queen Hortense, and I would venture arandom guess that, clasped about her slender throat, lies the queen'scollar of star sapphires----"

  "Oh!" From the Columbine broke a cry of warning and swift dismay. "Don'tyou dare speak my name, sir--don't you dare!"

  Fell assented with a chuckle, and subsided.

  Ansley regarded his two companions with sidelong curiosity. He could notrecognize Columbine, and he could not tell whether Fell were speaking ofthe scarf and jewels in jest or earnest. Such historic things were notuncommon in New Orleans, yet Ansley never heard of these particulartreasures. However, it seemed that Fell knew their companion, andaccepted her as a fellow guest at the Maillard house.

  "What are you doing out on the streets alone?" demanded Fell, suddenly."Haven't you any friends or relatives to take care of you?"

  Columbine's laughter pealed out, and she pressed Fell's arm confidingly.

  "Have I not some little rights in the world, monsieur?" she said inFrench. "I have been mingling with the dear crowds and enjoying them,before I go to be buried in the dull splendours of the rich man's house.Tell me, do you think that the Midnight Masquer will make an appearanceto-night?"

  "I have every reason to believe that he will," said Jachin Fell,gravely.

  Columbine put one hand to her throat, and shivered a trifle.

  "You--you really think so? You are not trying to frighten me?" Her voicewas no longer gay. "But--the jewels----"

  "Wear them, wear them!" There was command in the tone of Fell. "Werethey not given you to wear to-night? Then wear them, by all means. Don'tworry, my dear."

  Columbine said nothing for a moment; her gaiety seemed to be suddenlyextinguished and quenched. Ansley was wondering uneasily at theconstraint, when at length she broke the silence.

  "Since you have ordered, let the command be obeyed!" She essayed alaugh, which appeared rather forced. "Yet, if they are lost and aretaken by the Masquer----"

  "In that case," said Fell, "let the blame be mine entirely. If they arelost, little Columbine, others will be lost with them, fear not! I thinkthat this party would be a rich haul for the Masquer, eh? Take the richman and his friends--they could bear plucking, that crowd! Rogues all."

  "Confound you, Fell!" exclaimed Ansley, uneasily. "If the bandit doesshow up there would be the very devil to pay!"

  "And Maillard would do the paying." Fell's dry chuckle held a note ofbitterness. "Let him. Who cares? Look at his house, there, blazing withlights. Who pays for those lights? The people his financial tentacleshave closed their sucker-like grip upon. His wife's jewels have beenpurchased with the coin of oppression and injustice. His son's life isone of roguery and drunken wildness----"

  "Man, are you mad?" Ansley indicated the Columbine between them. "We'renot alone here--you must not talk that way----"

  Jachin Fell only chuckled again. Columbine's laugh broke in with renewedgaiety:

  "Nonsense, my dear Galen! We surely may be allowed to be ourselvesduring carnival! Away with the heresies of hypocritical society. Ourfriend speaks the sober truth. We masquers may admit among ourselvesthat Bob Maillard is----"

  "Is not the man we would have our daughters marry, provided we haddaughters," said Fell. Then he gestured toward the house ahead of them,and his tone changed: "Still, now that we are about to enter that house,we must remind ourselves of courtesy and the limitations of guests. Sayno more. Produce your invitation, Columbine, for I think we shall findthat the doors to-night are guarded by Cerberus."

  They had come to a file of limousines and cars, and approached thegateway of the Maillard home. They turned into the gate.

  The house loomed before them, a great house set amid gardens, stately inthe fashion of olden days. The lower floors were discreetly darkened tothe streets, but on the upper floor, where was the ballroom with itsfloor of cypress, there was a glitter of bright lights and open windows.Music drifted to them as they approached. Jachin Fell touched the arm ofAnsley and indicated an inconspicuous figure to one side of the entrancesteps.

  "An outer guardian," he murmured. "Our host, it seems, is neglecting noprecaution! I feel sorry for the Masquer, if he appears here."

  They came to the doorway. Columbine produced an invitation, dulynumbered, and the three entered the house together.