The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK ™: 20 Modern and Classic Tales of Female Detectives

by Catherine Louisa Pirkis

  Oscar fixed his keen eyes on his man, and a cold chill ran around our hero’s heart. He knew in some things he could trust the man, and he also knew that his own death would relieve Credo of many terrors. He knew that away down in his heart Credo hated him, and there was something suspicious in the revelation the man was making. It struck our hero that the fellow was acting with too much readiness. There was no need for the man to discover this very important secret. Was it possible that Credo was putting up a job to do away with the man who held him in his power? It was indeed possible at least, and our hero was slow and cautious. He did not intend to be trapped like a mouse nibbling at a piece of cheese. The idea of honor among thieves is a myth. A rogue is a rogue all the time, and criminals will betray a companion or a friend ninety-nine times out of a hundred. There is no romance in crime; it is always a dark record.

  “Credo,” said Oscar, “you have it nicely arranged here.”

  “Yes, sir, it’s perfect for the matter you have in hand.”

  “What matter have you in hand?”

  “You know.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well?”

  “I get the information and trade it. I’ve traded valuable information to you.”

  “That is true, and between us it is business. You were not aware that I was on to this arrangement?”

  The man stared.

  “No, I was not.”

  “Well, I am going to avail myself of this trick staircase, but keep very shady. Some of the lads are outside; they must not close in if I am gone some time. Give them a signal when they rush in, or they might do something rash. The rest of the fellows have not the confidence in you that I have, and they might suspect something. Be on the lookout, and if necessary show one of them where I am, for my orders have been very strict.”

  There was no misunderstanding on the part of Credo. He smiled and said:

  “I take what you mean. No, no, I’ve no such notion. It’s business with us; that’s right. I am not going to free myself this way, and here it is on the square. I’d rather make a stake this way, for if a man dies, he dies sudden—he don’t linger.”

  “We understand then?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, I am going to take in the meeting upstairs.”

  Oscar drew his mask lantern, slipped into the opening after a thorough examination of the whole contrivance and then he said:

  “Close the door, old man, close the door.”

  The door did close and immediately our hero opened it. He looked out and said:

  “Play very close to-night, Credo: don’t let your customers, if you have any, fall to us.”

  “The people are all at a ball. I’ll have no visitors to-night except it may be a straggler.”

  “All right, close the door.”

  Oscar believed he had taken every precaution, and indeed he had; and under all the circumstances he was very cool, but for him it was a big night and the most important consequences were destined to follow, and he knew it.

  With his lantern properly adjusted he ascended the stairs and in good time arrived at the place where he was to take in his news. He had been fully instructed and he found everything just as the man Credo had stated. Well, the arrangement was indeed a good one, and he mentally concluded:

  “That fellow Credo is a genius; it’s a pity he is not an honest man.”

  Oscar could see into the room and could overhear every word—almost hear a whisper, so cunningly had the eavesdropping trap been contrived. Oscar peeped in, and there was his siren, and there also was his whilom friend Girard. He and the siren were alone. Both wore a pleased look upon their faces; they were in a merry mood, and the man Girard said as our hero got fixed to take in their sayings:

  “He thinks himself a very smart fellow.”

  “Don’t make any mistake; he is a smart fellow—the smartest fellow that ever started out to shadow us, and he would be too much for us but for one fact.”

  “And what is that?”

  “He is honest and sympathetic, otherwise I would never have succeeded in fooling and getting him in tow, but now I’ve got him.”

  “You feel assured of that?”

  “I do. I’ve secured him on the only weak side he’s got. He is the hardest man to secure I ever started out to gain, but I’ve gone for him on just the right tack. I will handle him with care; I will learn all he knows. I will learn just who is working in with him, and then——”

  “What then?”

  “Alas! it’s sad to think of it. He is a good fellow, but he must walk the plank like the rest of them.”

  “Look out you don’t lose your heart to him.”

  The woman laughed in a merry manner and said:

  “I’ve won his. I can read it in his eyes.”

  “Woman’s vanity,” thought Oscar, and he did mutter: “That is her weakest point.”

  “You have measured pretty well. What is your conclusion?”

  “I’ll tell you; he is going it alone. He is the only one who has any points on us; of that I am certain. But, as I said, I’ll woo until I know just who is in with him, if any one.”

  At that moment the talk was interrupted and three men entered the room. Well, our hero was surprised. One of the men he recognized at a glance and he muttered: “Can it be possible?”

  As the three men entered Girard rose to his feet and greeted the man whom our hero had recognized. He exclaimed as he extended his hand:

  “Redalli, I am glad to greet you, and let me tell you that you have arrived just in time.”

  “Bah! I’ve heard all about it. You gentlemen are too easily frightened. There is nothing to fear.”

  “That man is now known as Redalli, eh?” muttered Oscar, and there came a gleam in his eyes which few could read.

  “We do not scare, as easily as you think, Redalli. I tell you there is a man on our track who is quietly running us down, and if we do not dispose of him he will spoil all our work of years.”

  “We will dispose of him; but what have you gentlemen been doing? Why did you not dispose of him?”

  “We have completed our plans.”

  Girard proceeded and related all the arrangements for disposing of Oscar and all the other men who might be working with him. Redalli listened attentively and finally said:

  “That is all right; but, gentlemen, we will make a fortune anyhow. We can move on while these men are locating us. We are all ready to shoot forth one of the greatest floods ever sent driving over this or any other land; in fact we will sweep over Canada and Mexico. I have managed our affair, I believe, in a satisfactory manner. One day this week all the agents will be in New York. We will distribute the stuff and send them abroad. The sweep will commence in three days. Under our present arrangements we will have gathered in several millions of dollars. No such plan was ever attempted or worked out.”

  “How many agents are there?”

  “There are eleven men.”

  “And where are all the documents?”

  “Here in New York.”

  “Where are the plates?”

  “The plates are all here in New York.”

  “Where will the distribution be made?”

  “I have secured a furnished house. In that house we will have all the goods and all the plates. The latter we will bury in the cellar, there to lie forever until New York shall crumble and some future archæologist digs them up from the ruins to be put on the shelves of some future museum. Yes, everything is complete.”

  “But these detectives?”

  “We will go ahead and dispose of them. There must be no mistake. We will secure them, take them on board a vessel we can secure, run them out to sea, hang them and throw their bodies hea
vily-weighted overboard. That is the plan; so let our good girl there, Libbie, carry out her plan. I am here now; there will be no surprises, no rushing in of detectives. I will have a well-armed and drilled force who will nail them all, and we will quietly dispose of them. The game is all in our own hands. We have nothing to fear. Our organization is too large, too far-reaching; and when once we have made the sweep we will make good our agreements and free every member of the gang that has been arrested. Yes, we will free them all, and as to the officers we will say good-by to them after the sweep and sail away to enjoy a heaven such as Mahomet has described. Yes, it’s all right; let Libbie play her game. In another ten days the cyclone will have passed and we will all be rich men—rich as Monte Cristos, dead sure.”

  Oscar could hardly believe his own ears. It was the most wonderful “pick-up” of his whole career; and again was it proven how crime, in spite of the most skillful precautions, is always sure to walk into its own trap in the end.

  Our hero lay low for over an hour and learned some additional facts of the utmost importance. Indeed, he had men and evidence. He knew it would be the greatest close-in since a detective force had been organized. It would beat all records. He had the names of every one of the leaders. He had the lead-up to the places where the manufactured goods were to be stored. He had the hour when the gang would assemble, and he determined upon one of the most dramatic of denouements.

  Oscar stole down the stairs. He passed to the door of the room and summoned Credo. To the man he said:

  “Credo, your fortune is made, unless——”

  “I understand. You need not fear me when I know you have them dead to rights, as you must have them after a lay-in up in that eavesdropping den of mine. No, no, they will get no hint from me. I am not in with that gang. I am in with you, and you’ve got ’em, and I am glad. They have not used me right anyhow.”

  “Then you fully understand?”

  “I do.”

  “All right.”

  Oscar stole forth and Cad Metti joined him.

  “What have you made out, Oscar?”

  “Cad, we’ve worked up the job of our lives. We’ve got the whole business. Now then, you lay to my trail, for I must shadow Redalli.”

  “You’ve got him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the woman?”

  “You were right. She is a siren indeed, but I will amuse her. Good-night for the present. Go, for here comes our game.”

  CHAPTER X

  Oscar Makes Good His Promise and Aided by Cad Metti, the Wonderful Female Detective, Performs One of the Greatest Feats in All Detective Records.

  Like a night sprite Cad glided away and Oscar fell to the shadow of the man Redalli. He followed him to the Hoboken ferry, crossed on the same boat with him, and saw him enter a house situated in the midst of a large plot of ground covered by lines of trees.

  The detective was satisfied. He had the meeting-house, as he called it, located. He had Redalli located, and he started back toward the ferry and had gone but a few squares when he was joined by Cad and another detective. Cad was in her ordinary garb as a well-dressed young miss, only that she wore a veil drawn down over her face.

  “It’s all right,” said our hero. He was jubilant, and he proceeded to relate all that had passed while he sat listening in the Credo eyrie.

  It was well on toward three o’clock in the morning when the party walked on board the boat to return to New York, and they had just seated themselves on the boat when a party of roughs, numbering seven or eight, entered the cabin. The men were very boisterous and ready for a muss, as the saying goes. They talked loud and laughed violently, and soon their eyes rested on the three detectives. The two males as they were gotten up did not look like very formidable individuals, and the fact that Cad was veiled attracted their attention. They ranged themselves on the seats directly opposite to where the three detectives were located and our hero at once detected that there was going to be a jolly row—jolly as far he and his companions were concerned—for both the men were athletes and boxers, of the first order. To them the knocking down of two or three ordinary men was a mere pastime, and as our readers know the wonderful Cad was not much behind when it came to a shindy. She could have given the famous strong woman who a few years ago appeared on the stage points in many athletic feats. One of the men looking over toward Cad said:

  “There’s a beauty.”

  The detectives exchanged looks.

  They had taken the measures of the rowdies.

  “How do you know?” asked one of the men.

  “I’ll bet on it.”

  “You will?”’

  “Yes.”

  “How will you prove it?”

  “I’ll prove.”

  “How?”

  “That’s my end of it.”

  “You’ll bet she is a beauty?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “How much?”

  “A bottle.”

  “And you are to prove it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll take the bet.”

  The fellow who had offered to make the bet immediately rose, crossed the cabin to where Cad sat and said:

  “Say, miss, you’ve heard the bet. Raise your veil and let me win. I know you are a beauty.”

  The men all laughed. They thought it evidently the joke of their lives; to them it was immense.

  It was so destined to turn out. Immense was no name for what followed, and it is very unfortunate that similar roysterers do not run up against a like party.

  “Come, miss,” urged the man, “I’ve paid you a compliment. You ain’t a-going to let me lose my bet?”

  Cad paid no attention to the fellow, and his companions jeered. One said:

  “She daren’t raise her veil, or she’ll make you lose, sure.”

  The man who had bet exclaimed:

  “You’ve lost; I’ve got a bottle on you.”

  “Not yet; come, miss, you won’t see me lose.”

  All this time the two detectives had sat silent. They knew what would follow, and just when to come in with the sledge hammer part of the farce. Yes, they were ready in good time to play the anvil chorus on the heads of the lively gang of insulters. It was just their pie, as the slang phrase has it.

  “You’ve lost,” cried the better.

  “Come, come, miss, do you hear what he says? I know you’re a beaut. Raise your veil and give me the laugh on him.”

  Cad sat mute, and finally the man said:

  “I can’t lose; I’ve got to see your face if I lift your veil myself.”

  “Yes, yes, raise and expose her mugg,” cried one; “if she were a beaut she would’nt let you lose that way. Lift her veil.”

  It was time for Oscar to interfere and he said:

  “That will do, young fellow.”

  “Will it?” cried the man in a fierce tone.

  “Yes.”

  “What have you got to say about it anyhow?”

  “This lady is in my company, under my protection.”

  “Oh, is she?”

  “She is.”

  “Well, here goes.”

  The man grabbed Cad’s veil and raised it, disclosing her really lovely face, and at the same instant he uttered a yell of triumph, but the next moment he roared forth a yell of pain and rage, for Oscar had leaped to his feet, dealt the man a clipper square on the nose and over he went. The rest of the gang immediately set up a yell, leaped to their feet and made a rush, and the next instant there followed a regular young riot, but the fun of the thing was all on one side. The other officer also leaped to his feet and started in on the tattoo act. He just swung around like a revolving wheel with distended cogs, and every time he revolved down went one of the men,
and Cad just stood up on the seat and laughed. The laugh in fact had bounded over to the opposite side of the cabin from where it first started. As the men who were downed attempted to regain their feet they got it again, and got it good. The two detectives having dropped the rascals with their fists gave them the balance of their dose with leather, and they did leather them well, kicking them over the floor of the cabin like stuffed bladders. The deck hands heard the noise, ran to the doors, and taking in the situation remained aloof. They were glad to see the rowdies get a whacking; glad that for once the assailants had run up against the wrong crowd. The rowdies bled and yelled, bled for their impertinence, yelled in dismay and terror, for they feared they would be beaten to death. They pleaded for mercy, and all the time the ferry boat kept on its way; and about the time our friends had fun enough the boat slid into her slip, and with a merry good-night to the discomfited and bleeding insulters Oscar and his friends proceeded ashore.

  On the day following the incidents we have recorded our hero, Wise, the special, and several other officers held a consultation. To Wise alone did our hero reveal the importance and extent of the information he had secured, and a plan was arranged.

  At the time named Oscar met the woman Libbie and he played her well—played for time, for his whole plan had been changed. One thing had led up to another, and the one little racket he had at first intended to work had been put aside for a new one under the latest developments.

  He parted from the woman, threw her and her friends off his track and lay low for a fresh “shadow” on Redalli, and in due time he got on the track of his man.

  Several days passed, and Cad and Oscar followed their lead. Our hero several times met the woman Libbie Van Zant and made her feel very good. He played the dupe to perfection; let it appear that he was dead gone on the siren; pretended to reveal everything to her, while in fact he was just getting his points from time to time and keeping her friends under close observation through her. He had constant access to the secret room in the house of Credo, listened to a great many consultations, and at length learned just the right facts for making one of the greatest hauls in the history of crime. He trailed to the delivery of the counterfeit goods at the house in Hoboken, and had every reason to believe that the plates also were all stowed away under one roof. Indeed, it appeared in plain words as though he were destined to capture not only all the manufactured stuff, but the complete outfit of the counterfeiters, the labor of years.