CHAPTER I.
LAWRENCE DEEVER DEMANDS JUSTICE.
"I call it a perfectly plain case, Mr. Colton."
"A case of what?"
"Why, murder, of course."
"Who has been murdered?"
As "Mr. Colton"--who was no other than Nick Carter--asked this question,his face looked as innocent as a babe's. He seemed surprised to hearthat there had been a murder, though his companion, Lawrence Deever, hadbeen saying so repeatedly during the last half hour.
Deever now looked at Nick with eyes and mouth wide open.
"Who has been murdered?" he repeated. "My brother has been murdered."
"What makes you think so?" asked Nick, calmly.
"What, indeed!" exclaimed Deever. "I have told you already."
"No, you haven't. You have told me that your brother has been missingsince night before last."
"I told you more than that," cried Deever. "He is known to havequarreled with that man Jarvis."
"Dr. Jarvis, of St. Agnes' Hospital?"
"Of course. And I have proved--"
"You have proved nothing," said Nick. "Let me repeat your statements:
"Your brother Patrick worked for Dr. Jarvis, or under his direction, inthe garden of St. Agnes' Hospital. The doctor frequently remonstratedwith Patrick for drinking too much whisky, and--"
"Remonstrated!" exclaimed Deever. "That's hardly the word for it. Heabused the lad. He struck him half a dozen times during the last week."
"With the flat of his hand," said Nick, smiling. "That is hardly thefoundation for a charge of murder."
"It shows that Jarvis is a violent man," said Deever, "and everybodyknows that he is."
"He has a bad temper, I will admit."
"He's a dangerous old crank."
"Well, to continue your statement of the case, late on Monday afternoonthey were heard quarreling in the garden. They were seen there abouthalf-past six o'clock.
"A little after half-past seven the doctor was seen coming toward thehospital. He was greatly excited. He passed Martin Burns, who drives thehospital ambulance.
"Martin went into the garden and failed to find Patrick. Nobody can tellwhat became of your brother or how he got out of the garden."
"Yes; that's the point," Deever cried. "How did he get out?"
"He may have climbed over the wall."
"You've forgotten that his coat, with a little money in the pocket, wasfound hanging on the limb of a tree."
"No, I did not forget that."
"Well, why did he leave it?"
"I don't pretend to know."
"And what has become of him?"
"There, again, I shall have to find out the facts before I answer."
"I tell you he was murdered."
"Now," said Nick, smiling again, "I shall have to turn your own questionagainst yourself: If he was murdered, what's become of him?"
"You mean where's his body?"
"Exactly."
"But do you mean to tell me," cried Deever, indignantly, "that if thisman has hidden my brother's body so that nobody can find it he willescape punishment for his crime?"
"Nothing of the sort," Nick replied. "I only wish to curb yourimpatience."
"I'm not more impatient than any man in my situation ought to be. Isimply demand justice."
"Or, in other words--"
"I want you to arrest Dr. Jarvis."
"I can't do it."
"Why not?"
"We must have some sort of proof that your brother is dead. We can't trya man for the murder of somebody who may be alive for all we know."
"You seem to be working in Jarvis' interest," said Deever, with a sneer.
"Not a bit of it. You know why I am here in your house."
"Because Superintendent Byrnes sent you; and I supposed that he had senta good man. He promised the best."
"Well, that ought to satisfy you."
"There was no need of sending anybody. We might have arrested Jarvis atonce. Any ordinary policeman could have got evidence enough to convict."
"But the superintendent did not think so."
"No; and I'm willing he should work in his own way, so long as I getjustice in the end. Now, what do you want?"
"Well," said Nick, appearing to consider the subject deeply, "I wouldlike some evidence of a motive."
"I don't believe there was any motive. The thing was done in anger."
"Then I want evidence of a really serious quarrel."
"Very well; you wait right here, and I'll bring a man who knowssomething about it. I heard of him this morning, and had time to ask hima few questions, but I don't know all he has to tell."
Deever hastily left the room. From the window Nick saw Deever pass upWest One Hundred and Forty-third street, on which the house stood. Hewas going in the direction of St. Nicholas avenue.
In less than an hour he returned with a young man whom he presented asthe important witness for whom he had been in search.
"Your name is Adolf Klein?" said Nick.
The witness nodded. He was a bashful, awkward fellow, who did not seemto be possessed of the average intelligence.
"Where do you work?" was the next question.
"I'm a bartender in Orton's saloon, up on the avenue."
"Do you know what has become of Patrick Deever?"
"All I know is this: I was passing the grounds of the hospital Mondayevening and stopped just by the wall. The reason I stopped was that Iheard Pat Deever inside, talking very loud. He called somebody an oldfool and swore at him."
The witness paused. He seemed to be a good deal excited. It was not verywarm in the room, but the perspiration was pouring off of Klein'sforehead.
"Was that all you heard?" asked Nick.
"No; I heard more hard talk, and then a blow was struck. It soundedheavy and dull. Then came more blows. Somebody seemed to be pounding. Itsounded as if he was pounding on the ground, and if it hadn't been forthe loud talk just before, I'd have thought that Pat was smoothing downa flower-bed with his spade."
"Did you hear any talking after the blow?"
"I didn't hear Pat's voice again."
"Did you hear any voice?"
"I heard somebody muttering. The voice sounded like Dr. Jarvis'. I'vebeen to the hospital, and I know the doctor."
"Did you look over the wall?"
"No; it's too high there. I ran around to the gate on St. Nicholasavenue and tried to see in; but I couldn't. There were too many treesbetween me and the garden."
"Then what did you do?"
"I went home."
"Did you say anything about what you had heard?"
"Not that night."
"When did you first speak of it?"
"This morning."
"To whom?"
"To Mr. Deever. He was in the saloon, and he told me that his brotherwas missing."
"Well," cried Deever, who could keep silence no longer, "what do youthink of that?"
"It is important evidence."
"You remember," Deever continued, "that when I went to ask Jarvis wheremy brother was, he admitted having quarreled with him, but said that itended in words. Now we know that it ended in blows."
"What time was it when you heard that blow?" asked Nick of Klein.
"Must have been about half-past seven," Klein replied.
"How do you know?"
"When I walked up the avenue I saw the clock on the church up by OneHundred and Fiftieth street. It was a quarter of eight."
"That fits the case exactly," Deever exclaimed. "It was a little afterhalf-past seven when Burns saw Jarvis coming in from the garden."
"That is true."
"Will you arrest Jarvis now?"
"I will not," said Nick. "The evidence is not yet sufficient."
Deever made an impatient gesture.
"Remember," said Nick, "that an accusation of murder leaves an indeliblestain. We cannot move too carefully."
"You will let him escape."
"His e
scape is utterly impossible," said Nick. "He is watched."
"A good many men have been watched and have got away."
"Nobody ever got away from the man who is watching Jarvis," said Nick,quietly; and that praise was not too high, for the person in questionwas Nick's famous assistant, Chick.
"And now," said Deever, "may I ask what more you need in the way ofevidence?"
"I need proof of your brother's death."
"In short, we must find the body."
"Exactly."
"Very well," sneered Deever, "I suppose I must do it myself. I've gotnearly all the evidence thus far."
"By all means do it," said Nick, with his calm smile, "if you can."
Deever stared at him for more than a minute without speaking. Then hesaid:
"Colton, why do you treat this case as you do?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't seem to want to go ahead with it."
"I don't want to go ahead with it any faster than the facts willjustify. If you had had more experience in such matters you would knowthe folly of arresting a man first and getting facts to warrant thearrest afterward. As I say, I want more facts, and you must help me toget them."
The last part of this conversation was held as Nick, Deever and Kleinpassed out upon the street.
A ragged young man who was leaning against a tree heard it, and was muchsurprised.
For the ragged young man was Patsy, and he had never heard Nick Carterask anybody except his regular assistants to help him in that waybefore.
The Crime of the French Café and Other Stories Page 21
