CHAPTER V.
THE SEVENTH BUTTON.
On the second floor of the apartment-house in East Thirtieth Streetlived Mrs. Mortimer Remsen, and her two daughters, Emily and Dora.
Mrs. Remsen's husband had been dead more than ten years, but he hadamassed a handsome fortune, which left his family able to maintain theposition in New York society to which they were heirs by birth andbreeding. They lived in the most commodious apartment in the magnificentbuilding in Thirtieth Street, and were surrounded by an elegant luxurywhich results from a combination of wealth and refined taste. Theyentertained frequently, and Mrs. Remsen, still a handsome woman, wasalways a conspicuous figure at the most notable social and charitableevents of the season.
Emily, the eldest daughter, was a woman of twenty-six, who commanded,rather than attracted, admiration. She was of admirable proportions,easy and regal carriage, with a fine head well poised on magnificentshoulders. As to her face--well, I cannot describe it better than didthe eminent artist Gaston de Castilla, who was requested to paint herportrait. "Madam," said he, to her mother, "I do not like to undertakeyour commission. Your daughter has one of those marvellous faces whichdefies art. Every feature is a departure from recognized standards, andyet the result is nobility and beauty of the highest type. Only Natureherself can produce such effects. Through an imperfect countenance shesheds the rays of an illumined soul, till all faults are obliterated,forgotten. We poor artists cannot hope to supply on our cold canvas whatso singular a face must have, to make it beautiful." Nevertheless, hedid paint the portrait, the one which the detective had seen in Mr.Mitchel's room, and he had succeeded at least in suggesting themarvellous effects of character, revealing itself through the features.Other painters had failed, perhaps because they appreciated less than hewhat they attempted.
This description also gives a hint of the woman herself. A combinationof all the softer emotional elements, she dominated self and others by asupreme will. She was rarely disobeyed by suitor or by servant. That shehad engaged herself to marry Mr. Mitchel had surprised the entire circlewithin which she moved, and yet perhaps the secret of his success lay inthe simple fact that he had had the courage to ask for her, and to do soin a loving but masterful way which plainly showed that he anticipatedno refusal or coy hesitancy. His wooing had been of an impetuouswhirlwind kind, and he was affianced to her within a month of theiracquaintance.
It was this fact which had caused the most comment. Mr. Mitchel moved ingood society, but he was a newcomer, and now that he had captured theprize of the matrimonial market, all where asking "Who is he?" aquestion which none seemed able to answer. He was a Southerner and thatsingle fact had shed about him a halo of attractive light which hadblinded the eyes of those who feebly attempted to look deeper.
Mrs. Remsen had protested when Emily announced her engagement, but Emilyhad replied, "Mother, I have given my word," and the discussion wasended. A few moments later she had affectionately seated herself at hermother's feet, and after tenderly kissing her, whispered "I love him. Heis my king," and then buried her head in her parent's lap. Few womenargue against an appeal of that nature. Thus Emily and Mr. Mitchelbecame engaged, after which he came and went much as though he were themaster of the house. Why not, since he had become the master of itsmistress?
Dora was her sister's antithesis, save that both were brunettes. She wassimply a lovable, docile, impressionable, pretty girl. She adored hermother, and worshipped her sister whom she called "The Queen." Dora wasonly seventeen. There had been three boys born between the sisters, butthey had died in infancy.
The two girls were in the sumptuous parlor of their apartment, Emilylying on the soft lounge, whilst Dora sat near her in a cosy armchairwhich made her look almost a little girl.
"Queen, did you enjoy the opera last night?" asked Dora.
"Oh! yes," replied Emily, "But you know, my dear, comic opera--is comicopera, and all is said."
"It's all very fine for you to talk in that patronizing way, Queen,about amusement, but it is different with me. I have not outgrown thetheatre yet. I'll tell you what I have been thinking of seriously--"
"Seriously," laughed Emily, pinching her pretty sister's cheek. "Why yously little rogue, you couldn't be serious if you tried."
"Oh! couldn't I! But listen. I am going to ask Bob----"
"Bob?"
"Mr. Mitchel, you know. I told him last night that I mean to call himBob after this, and he kissed me and said it was a bargain."
"Kissed you, did he? Well Miss Impudence, I like that."
"So did I. But you need not scold, because you know what Bob says islaw. You are as much afraid of him as--well as all the rest of the menare of you. But I haven't told you what I am going to do. I want Bob totake me with you both, whenever you go to the theatre."
"Oho! So that is your little plot, is it?"
"Yes! What do you think of it?"
"What do I think of it? Now I shall surprise you. I think it is anexcellent idea. I love you very much, my little sweetheart sister, andshall be only too glad to see you have as much pleasure as your heartlongs for."
"You darling Queen!" and with an impetuous bound the younger girl wason her knees with her arms around Emily, raining kisses upon her lips.This effusive show of affection, Emily received with evident pleasure,for, however dignified she could be in her bearing, leaving theimpression that she was cold, in reality she was warm-hearted to adegree which would have surprised the gossips.
Nestling her head in the folds of her sister's soft silk gown, thushiding her face, Dora said timidly:
"May I tell you something Queen?"
"Ha! You mischief, what have you to confess now?"
"I have invited a man to call here," replied Dora suddenly raising herhead, and speaking with a different touch in her tones.
"Is that all?" laughed Emily, "Who is the monster? Where did you meethim?"
"I have met him several times, at afternoon teas. The last time he askedme if he might call--and I told him he could do so this afternoon, whenI thought you would be at home. Was it very wrong?"
"Well, Dora, I don't think it was exactly proper, but perhaps it may beall right, since you have met him at several of our friends' houses. Butwhat is his name?"
"Alphonse Thauret."
"A Frenchman?"
"Yes, though he speaks English with only a very slight accent."
"I don't like Frenchmen. I know it is preposterous prejudice but Inever meet one without thinking him a possible adventurer. With theirsoft sycophantic ways, they remind me of cats, and I expect them to showtheir claws at any moment. However, pet, perhaps your Frenchman will notcall, and then----"
"Oh! but he will. He said he would come this afternoon. That is why Ihave been so nervous. I was afraid you might be going out, and----"
"No, I will be here to protect you. Besides I expect Bob at any moment.He said he would come about noon, and it is after that already. Perhapsthat is he now; yes, three rings.
"Oh, so Romeo and Juliet have signals! But jump up, Queen, he must notcatch us lying down, and 'spooning.'"
A moment later Mr. Mitchel entered to find both girls seated in the mostdignified manner, reading novels. Walking over to Emily he stooped, andkissed her lightly on the forehead, whispering "My Queen." Next hepatted Dora on the head, as one would pat a child.
"Emily I have taken the liberty of telling a friend of mine that hemight call here. You do not mind?"
"Why, of course not, Roy." She had made this name for him by eliminatingthe first syllable of his second name, Leroy. She told him, that thusshe could call him King, without heralding it to the world. Almostimmediately the bell sounded again, and Mr. Barnes was introduced. Mr.Mitchel presented him to the two ladies, and then devoted himself toDora, thus leaving the detective perfectly free to converse with Emily.Being well educated, and having travelled through England early in life,Mr. Barnes soon made himself at ease, and talked like any society man.Presently Mr. Mitchel took Dora to the wi
ndow and stood there lookingout and chatting, apparently absorbed and unobservant of the others. Mr.Barnes decided that this was his opportunity.
"Pardon me, Miss Remsen, and let the interest of a collector excuse theimpertinence of my noticing that beautiful pin which you wear. Cameos Ithink are too little appreciated nowadays. They are passed by, whilststatuettes bring fancy prices. Yet does it not require exquisite skillto carve so small an object?"
"I agree with you, Mr. Barnes, and am not at all angry with you foradmiring my pin. You may look at it if you wish." Saying which she tookit off and handed it to him. It was the fac-simile of those which Mr.Mitchel wore as buttons, save that it bore the image of Shakespeare. Thecameo was mounted in a gold frame, and, surrounded by diamonds, made abeautiful ornament. "You would never guess, Mr. Barnes that that wasonce an ordinary button?"
Mr. Barnes assumed an expression of surprise as though the idea wasentirely new to him. All he said was:
"It may have been a button, but surely never an ordinary one."
"Well no, not an ordinary one of course. I suppose you know that I amengaged to your friend?"
Mr. Barnes assented with a bow, and Emily continued:
"Shortly after we became engaged, I went to Europe, and whilst there Icame across a jeweller who produced the most beautiful carvings in cameoand intaglio. I ordered a set made to be used for buttons."
"All similar to this?"
"Similar but not identical. This one has Shakespeare's head. The othersrepresent Romeo and Juliet."
Mr. Barnes determined upon a bold stroke. Taking the button from hispocket, and handing it to Emily, he said quietly:
"Here is a cameo of Juliet. Perhaps it may interest you?"
"Why this is extraordinary! It is one of my set!"
"One of yours, why have you lost one? How many did you have?"
"There were seven including this one of Shakespeare. The other six----"Here she stopped and colored deeply.
"Miss Remsen, you think that is one of the original set. If so of courseit is yours, and I should be too glad to restore it to you. But have youlost one?"
"Lost one? No----that is, I don't know." She seemed much confused, andlooked intently at the button. Suddenly her whole expression changed,and with her self possession fully restored she startled Mr. Barnes bysaying, "I am mistaken. This is not one of the original set. Yet it isvery similar."
Mr. Barnes did not know what to think. Did she divine that there mightbe some danger in admitting that there was a seventh button still? Hadthat matchless schemer Mitchel sent her a note warning her to say thatthere were but seven in the original set? He could not decide at once,but hazarded one more stroke.
"Miss Remsen, I have seen your portrait, and it struck me that thatbutton is a copy of it. What do you think?"
The girl once more became confused and stammered.
"I don't know," then suddenly, and with complete composure again, "Yes,I think you are right. This is a copy from my picture. The portrait wasmade last summer, and afterwards I allowed the artist to exhibit it. Ithink photographs were made from it, and possibly some cameo cutter hasused it for his work."
This was ingenious, but not satisfactory to Mr. Barnes, for he knew thatit was far from probable that another gem-cutter should have used thepicture, and then have called it Juliet. Beside it would have been toogreat a coincidence to make a button of it. He decided therefore thatthe girl was doing the best she could to invent a plausible explanationto a question, which Mr. Mitchel himself had simply refused to answer.Not wishing to arouse any suspicion in her mind that he doubted herword, he replied quickly:
"That is very likely, and surely he could not have chosen a better facefor his subject."
"Mr. Barnes," said Emily, "you offered just now to give me this,thinking that I had lost it. Of course I should not accept a presentfrom one whom I have had the pleasure of knowing for so short a time,but you are Mr. Mitchel's friend, and as I would really prefer not tohave my portrait in the hands of strangers, I accept your gift withthanks."
This was entirely unexpected. When Mr. Barnes had made the remark thathe would be glad to restore her her own, he had done so feeling safe,because to obtain it she would need to admit that she had lost it. Nowit seemed that she had deprived him of his piece of evidence. He did notknow what to say, when Mr. Mitchel walked across to them and remarkedpleasantly:
"Well, Emily, do you find my friend Mr. Barnes entertaining?"
"Mr. Barnes has been most agreeable, Roy, and see, he has actually givenme a present," saying which she handed the button to Mr. Mitchel acrosswhose countenance Mr. Barnes thought he saw a fleeting smile of triumphpass.
"I am proud of you, Emily. You command homage wherever you extend yourinfluence. Do you know, Mr. Barnes refused to give this cameo to me,only this morning. You can guess why I wanted it."
"Because it has my picture copied on it?"
"Exactly. Mr. Barnes, allow me to add my thanks to those of Miss Remsen.You can readily appreciate why we prefer to have this bauble in our ownpossession?"
Mr. Barnes thought that he could. He saw that he was fairly caught andthat he could do nothing without making a scene. He met a glance fromMr. Mitchel which he knew was meant to remind him of his promise not toannoy Miss Remsen. He had about decided that he had been a fool to makesuch a promise and to have visited the place at all, when he suddenlychanged his mind, as a servant announced:
"Mr. Alphonse Thauret."
Immediately the detective remembered the name. It was upon the cardgiven to him by the Frenchman who had left the train at Stamford. He waswatching Mr. Mitchel when the newcomer was thus unexpectedly announced,and he thought he detected a glance of displeasure. Were these two menacquainted, accomplices perhaps?
"Mr. Mitchel, let me present Mr. Thauret," said Dora.
"I have had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman before," replied Mr.Mitchel, and with a stiff bow he crossed to the side of Emily as thoughto prevent an introduction to her. This, of course, was impossible, andMr. Mitchel was plainly annoyed. Emily stepped forward, extended herhand to Mr. Thauret, and then turning, presented him to Mr. Barnes, whohad arisen, and who simply bowed.
"Ah! Mr. Barnes," said the Frenchman, "I am delighted to meet youagain."
"Why, do you know Mr. Barnes also?" cried Dora greatly surprised.
"Who does not know Mr. Barnes, the celebrated detective." He said thisin that extremely polite tone so much assumed by his race, when inclinedto be most complimentary. Yet Mr. Barnes thought that he had somesinister motive in thus proclaiming his connection with the police. Wasit to prevent him from calling upon these women again? If so he failedto make the desired impression upon Dora, for that young woman seemedfairly enraptured.
"A detective?" said she. "Are you really the great Mr. Barnes?"
"I am a detective, but scarcely a great one."
"Oh! but you are, you are! I read all about the wonderful way in whichyou caught that man Pettingill. And now tell me, are you going to catchthe man who robbed the woman on the Boston train yesterday?"
"How do you know that it is a man?" asked Mr. Barnes amused at herimpetuosity, and pleased at the turn taken by the conversation.
"Oh! it is not a woman. I am sure of that. I read about it in the papersthis morning. I bought three so as not to miss anything. No woman wouldhave been clever enough to plan it all, and then carry it out sothoroughly."
"This is very interesting," said Mr. Thauret. "Of course I too have readthe papers, but besides that, as you know, Mr. Barnes, I was on thetrain myself, and the first to be searched. I have thought of the caseever since. In my own country we claim that our detectives can unravelany mystery, and I am curious to know how you will manage in an affairof this kind. The thief evidently is clever, do you not think so?"
Mr. Mitchel had drawn apart and apparently was absorbed in aconversation with Emily; nevertheless Mr. Barnes was confident that hemissed little of what was being said by the group of which he himselfwa
s one. Under ordinary circumstances he would not for a moment havethought of speaking of so important a case before one who at least mightbe suspected of complicity. But these were not ordinary circumstances.Here were two men, about both of whom there was a mysterious connectionwith the crime, or crimes, which he was investigating. If either, orboth, were guilty, it was evident from their courage in visitingunconcernedly at the very building in which the murder had beencommitted, that extreme skill would be required to obtain a conviction.The detective therefore considered that these men must be met withmethods as bold as their own. Speaking in a tone loud enough to reachMr. Mitchel's ears he said:
"I think that the thief is clever, but that he is not so clever as heconsiders himself."
"How is that?"
"He believed--I say he, because like Miss Remsen, I think it is a man--"
"How delightful of you to agree with me," said Dora.
"This man then," continued Mr. Barnes, "considers that he has misled me.He thinks that when I directed that all the passengers should besearched, I did so hoping to find the lost jewels, whereas I was notlooking for the jewels, but for the thief."
"How could you do that?"
"You may think me egotistic, but I hoped to detect him by his conduct. Iwas entirely successful. I know who stole the jewels." This was a boldassertion, especially as Mr. Barnes had not decided the matter in hisown mind. He wished to note the faces of these men, when he made thestatement. He gained nothing by the manoeuvre, for Mr. Mitchel seemednot to have heard, whilst the Frenchman quickly said:
"Bravo! Bravo! You are better than Lecocq. It is like a wizard's trick.You pass the suspects before you in review, and then, presto! you pickout the criminal with your eye. That is a charming method, and sosimple!"
"Mr. Thauret," said Dora, "you are laughing at Mr. Barnes, and that isnot good-natured. Mr. Barnes says he knows the thief. I believe him."
"Pardon! I believe him also. I did not mean to laugh. But tell me, Mr.Barnes, how did the man secrete the diamonds, I suppose they werediamonds, were they not?"
"Diamonds and other jewels. But let me ask you----how would you havehidden them, had you been in his place?" This time the shot went home.Plainly the Frenchman did not like the suggestion of being himself thecriminal. He quickly recovered his equanimity, however, and answered:
"Do you know, I have thought of that very thing. Of course I wouldprobably make a bungle of it. Still I have thought of a way."
"A way by which he could have hidden the jewels so that a search couldnot have found them, and yet in a place accessible to himselfafterwards?"
"I think so! Perhaps I am wrong, but I think my little plan would dothat much. The newspaper says the jewels were unset stones. I shouldhave pushed them into the cake of soap in the wash-room. No one wouldthink to look for them there, and even if so, there would be nothingagainst me. Afterwards, I should have gone back, taken the soap, and thejewels would have been mine."
"You are mistaken."
"How so?"
"You were the first person searched, and I watched you till you left thetrain. It would have been difficult for you to come to New York fromStamford on another train, and then gain access to the coaches on a sidetrack and in the hands of the scrub-women. Even then you would havefailed, for I took all the soap away, and substituted new cakes beforethe second man was searched."
A smile on Mr. Mitchel's face proved that he was listening, and that hewas pleased at the detective's cleverness. The Frenchman shrugged hisshoulders, and said, laughing:
"There, you see, I should never make a thief. Besides there was thesatchel. I had forgotten about that. One could not hide a satchel in acake of soap."
"But he could throw it out of a window, to mislead the man who pickedit up," replied the detective.
"You are shrewd, Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Thauret, after a keen scrutiny,which Mr. Barnes thought betokened uneasiness. "But," he continued,"will you tell me how you think the thief hid the treasure on thetrain?"
"He hid it _off_ the train," said Mr. Barnes, quickly, and to hissatisfaction both his men started slightly. Evidently Mr. Mitcheldecided that it was time for him to enter the game, for he crossed andjoined the group, saying as he did so:
"Are you all discussing the train robbery?"
"Oh, yes!" said Dora. "And it is just lovely, the way Mr. Barnes hasfound out all about it!"
"Found out all about it? Has he, indeed?"
"Yes! He knows who the thief is, and that he hid the jewels off thetrain."
"How very clever of you, Mr. Barnes, to discover that. Where else couldhe have hidden them, since the train itself and everybody on it wassearched?"
It irritated Mr. Barnes, the way in which Mr. Mitchel always seemed tobelittle his skill. He was a trifle angry, therefore, as he made hisnext bold stroke.
"I will tell you, ladies and gentlemen, where the thief might havehidden the jewels, on the train--a place which no one thought ofsearching, not even myself."
"Oh! tell us!" exclaimed Dora. The two men looked interested, nothingmore. Emily had come behind Mr. Mitchel, and slyly slipped her handwithin his.
"The woman carried the jewels in a satchel. Suppose the thief hadstolen the satchel and thrown it from the window. Missing that, thewoman would have naturally concluded that the jewels were gone, wouldshe not? Very well. The thief might have hidden the jewels in her ownpocket whilst she slept." Mr. Barnes had hoped much from thisproposition, but it was a distinct failure. Either that was not thethief's method, or else Mr. Mitchel and Mr. Thauret were both innocent.Both smiled incredulously. The former spoke:
"That is too far-fetched, Mr. Barnes. How do you suppose that he wouldregain possession of the gems?"
"By murdering the woman," answered the detective. Again he failed, forneither of the men winced. Mr. Barnes was foiled for the moment, but notentirely discouraged. The start which both men had made, when hesuggested that the stolen property had been hidden off the train, stillremained to be explained.
"Come! Come! Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Mitchel patting his shoulderfamiliarly, "don't let this case upset you so. When you go so far for atheory, you do not show the skill which you displayed in trackingPettingill. Why even I can get you a better one than that."
"You must not think me quite a fool, Mr. Mitchel. If my theory seemspreposterous, it does not follow that it is the only one at my command.We detectives must look at these cases from all lights. I will wagerthat I can tell you what your theory is?"
"Good! I am glad New York has such a clever man to defend her. I acceptyour wager. Here, I will write my idea on a bit of paper. If you guessit I owe you an invitation to a good dinner." Mr. Mitchel wrote a fewlines on the back of an envelope and handed it to Dora.
"You think," said Mr. Barnes, "that the thief might have simply handedthe satchel and jewelry to a confederate at a station decided upon inadvance."
"Bravo! Mr. Barnes," said Dora, "You _are_ a great detective. You havewon your wager. That is what is written here."
"I owe you a dinner Mr. Barnes, and it shall be a good one," said Mr.Mitchel.
"Would Mr. Barnes like to win another?" asked the Frenchman with slowdistinctness.
"I would," said the detective sharply.
"Then I will wager with you, that if you ever clear up the mystery, youwill be obliged to admit that none of the theories advanced is thecorrect one."
"I cannot accept that bet," said Mr. Barnes slowly, "because I am surethat we have not mentioned the true method adopted."
"Ah! You have another theory," Mr. Thauret almost sneered.
"I have and it is the correct one," retorted Mr. Barnes, "but I prefernot to disclose it."
"I think you are quite right, Mr. Barnes," said Emily. "In fact, knowingyou by reputation as a man of great shrewdness, I have not thought thatyou were telling us your true ideas. It would have been foolish to doso."
"Perhaps, though sometimes what seems foolish, may be wise."
"Quite true. And now gentl
emen, I regret the necessity of dismissingyou, but I have a ball on hand for to-night, and must beg you to excuseus, that we may prepare for it. You know in the fashionable world wetrain for a ball, as athletes do for their sports. You will forgive mysending you away?"
This was her way and men never resented it. They simply obeyed. Mr.Barnes was delighted that both the other men would leave with him. Hehad prepared a trap for Mr. Mitchel, but now he would entice two birdsinto it.
An Artist in Crime Page 5
