“Help!” Freddy yelled, awakening with a start.
A blow from a cudgel sent him rolling into a corner of the pantry, stretched out inert.
While Jimmy, his revolver in his hand, posted himself at the exit, the other three accomplices burst into the vestibule.
Charley got up at the noise. Seeing the three criminals enter, he let out a shout of alarm and fired on the first one. It was Hard. The criminal was carrying his packet of sacks under his arm, against his chest; the detective’s bullet was lost in that kind of shield.
The fake Hawfinch, counting on his friends to get rid of Charley for him, went across the entry hall without stopping and mounted the stairs four at a time. However, Ethel King’s assistant fired a second time and Pete fell dead, hit in the middle of the forehead.
Walter hadn’t gotten his weapon out soon enough to prevent Ralph from jumping on him. The criminal grabbed him by the throat and the two men began to roll on each other, fighting in the entry hall. The tiles resonated under their feet.
“What’s happening!” Ethel King, sitting up, suddenly shouted.
“What’s that noise?” the man claiming to be Robert Newborn, exclaimed.
He suddenly leaned forward and let fly a blow of his fist to Outburn’s chin, which knocked him over in his chair. His arm turned and struck Eva’s head. The young girl gave a sigh and no longer budged.
The criminal remained in front of Ethel King alone, and thought he had easily got the best of her. He jumped on her, brandishing his knife. But, just as he was going to strike, the young woman seized his wrist with her left hand and held back his arm. At the same time she drew her revolver with her other hand.
Bob understood that if he hesitated he was lost. He quickly pulled himself away from his adversary’s hold and jumped backward. The jerk backward was such that the detective was for a second thrown off balance. The criminal took advantage of that situation. He picked up the table in the little drawing room and threw it with all his strength at Ethel King, who was struck down and stretched out on her shoulder, dropping her revolver. Then he picked up Eva, still unconscious, and ran into the vestibule, going through the dining room.
Just then, Charley, who had heard the noise of the struggle, opened the door of the little drawing room, which led directly to the entry hall.
Ethel King and Outburn were getting up.
“Eva! Where is Eva?” the engineer shouted, panic-stricken.
And he ran through the dining room, looking for Bob, while Ethel and Charley got into the dining room just in time to see Walter knocked unconscious by a last blow of Ralph’s fist, and Hard struggling with Tom at the top of the stairs.
Ethel King, who had picked up her revolver, struck Ralph’s neck a formidable blow with its butt. The criminal fell with a howl of pain, like a felled ox.
Hard had gotten free from Tom’s grasp. Understanding that the house was well guarded and that his burglary had failed, he disappeared into the pantry to escape. Outburn had just taken exactly the same path in pursuit of Eva’s abductor.
In the courtyard, Jimmy was trying to force open the wrought iron gate of the fence with the help of a crowbar to let Bob get out with the young girl under his arm. Eva was beginning to regain consciousness and was struggling.
As Outburn was jumping on Bob, Hard, disarmed during his fight with Tom, stopped him by grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. Outburn turned around and seized his adversary by the throat, bellowing:
“Ah! You scoundrel, I’ve got you! I’ll kill you, do you understand! I’ll kill you!”
“Shoot her, Bob!” Hard again yelled to Eva’s abductor.
Bob, exasperated by the failure of the burglary, threw Eva on the pavement and drew his knife to carry out the order of his chief.
Ethel King burst into the courtyard. Seeing the danger to Eva she fired without hesitation and Bob crumbled, killed by the shot.
Hard was moaning under Outburn’s furious restraint.
Charley pointed his revolver at Jimmy.
“Get your hands in the air, you rogue, or you’re dead!”
Jimmy, terrified at the death of his accomplice, obeyed and let himself be handcuffed without resistance, while Ethel King pulled Hard away from Outburn and handcuffed him also. The engineer picked up Miss Newborn and took her into the sitting room.
Ethel and Charley reviewed the situation.
Two of the burglars, Bob and Pete were dead. Ralph, Walter’s adversary, was unconscious. When he regained consciousness, he found himself expertly tied up along with his two accomplices, Hard and Jimmy.
Those besieged had been less tested. Freddy, as punishment for his lack of vigilance, had a fractured skull, from which he wouldn’t recover for two or three months. Walter had gotten off with a black eye, two cracked teeth, and some contusions of no seriousness. Tom had his left cheek and chin painfully scratched.
Ethel was experiencing a very painful left side. Eva was complaining of violent headaches and her fall onto the pavement had given her a backache. Outburn had a stiff neck. Only Charley had come off unharmed.
“What a hot alert!” Miss Newborn observed, with a smile in which tears still mingled. “But thank God! The curse of the green diamond didn’t go into effect right to the end. I’ve been saved without anyone needing to sacrifice himself for me.”
The steward appeared at the door.
“Miss, the upstairs maid is hysterical,” he announced.
“Splash some water on her face, Tom,” Ethel King advised. “Charley, go find the doctor. There’s work for him here.”
The front doorbell rang.
“Now what!” Outburn exclaimed.
Ethel advanced to the threshold of the vestibule door.
“They’re policemen, Miss,” announced Walter, who was holding a wet towel to his eye.
“Policemen? They’ve arrived just in time. Well, it’s you Herdsman. Has Light sent you? Don’t you recognize me? I’m Ethel King.”
The policeman saluted and replied:
“He’s the one…and he’s not the one, Miss King. That depends on what you mean by that.”
“You’re speaking in riddles, Herdsman.”
“Well, I have bad news to tell you.”
“What! Has something happened to Light?”
“Unfortunately, Miss.”
“Is he wounded?”
“Dead, with two of our comrades. They’ve been killed by Hard and his accomplices.”
“Oh! My God. The poor devil”
“We’ve been to tell Mrs. Light. It was through her that we learned that you were working with him and that you were here. The poor woman is mad with despair.”
Eva, who was listening, let out a cry of horror.
“What! Your friend, Light, you’ve told me about, was killed by the burglars, Ethel! Then he was the one who sacrificed himself for me. By giving his life, he warded off the curse of the green diamond!”
3. JACK THE RIPPER, THE WOMAN-KILLER
A Terrible Admirer
Garden Street in Philadelphia is comprised of a large number of small, vine-covered houses, most of which are single family dwellings. They are all set back from the street by small, pretty, well cared for gardens which awaken in the passerby the attractive image of family contentment, most often in harmony with the comfort and elegance of the interior.
One of these houses, No. 77 Garden Street, is that of Miss Ethel King, who is already famous throughout the Union as a detective, not only because she was the first woman to take up that career, where stress is seasoned with danger, but because she has had successes worthy of being compared with the most famous of detectives, such as Nick Carter and Pinkerton. Her household staff consists of a general custodian or housekeeper, Mrs. Sara Cramp, and a young man of 16 years, extraordinarily gifted with both intelligence and physical strength combined with unusual amounts of both the most subtle good sense and the most audacious courage. Charley Lux—that is the name of that adolescent—had several times
rendered valuable service to the detective, who used him whenever it was a matter of a stakeout or of gathering information.
One gloomy November day, a little delivery boy appeared in Garden Street carrying a magnificent bouquet of roses and stopped at the gate of the garden in front of No. 77. He vigorously jangled the bell. The elderly Sara Cramp came quickly and asked what he wanted.
“I’m bringing Miss Ethel King this bouquet with this letter and many compliments,” said the young messenger, “but I must put every things in the right hands.”
“Of course,” Sara grumbled, “that’s certainly not for me! Come in, my boy. Miss is going to be delighted to receive such beautiful flowers.”
For herself, Sara didn’t seem at all delighted. She went across the little front garden with the delivery boy and took him into her mistress’ study. Ethel King was seated at her desk, busy studying different handwritings, and seemed deeply absorbed in that work. At the entry of the delivery boy, a big dog rose from the bearskin rug on which he was lying at his mistress’ feet and showed his teeth at the new arrival, who retreated frightened.
“Lie down, Pluto!” Miss Ethel King commanded, and the powerful animal immediately obeyed, without taking his eyes off the urchin. Ethel got up and went to him. She was a slim and lithe woman, but you could see she had well-toned muscles and her face, with strong, sharply outlined features, was lit by unusually lively gray eyes.
“Good evening,” she said in response to the young man’s greeting. “What have you brought me?”
“I bring you greetings,” said the boy, while throwing worried looks in the direction of the dog. “Then I am to deliver this letter and this bouquet.”
“From whom, my boy?”
“From an old and well-dressed gentleman who gave me this commission at Diamond Street.”
“Did he tell you to bring him back an answer?”
“No, that was all I was told to do.”
“What’s your name, young man?”
“Edward Saunders.”
“You’re employed by the Central Office of the Messenger Boys, aren’t you?”
Ethel King asked him all these questions in a pleasant tone, but the urchin seemed visibly uncomfortable under her sharp look.
“Yes,” he answered timidly.
“How old are you, and where do you live?”
“I’m 15 years old and I live at No. 98, Oldham Square.”
“Very well, I’m going to verify that.”
She went to the telephone, was connected to the Central Office of the Messenger Boys and asked if the information given was correct. She received a satisfactory answer, and speaking again to the messenger boy:
“I see that you’ve told the truth,” she said. “Now, describe for me the appearance of the man who gave you this errand.”
“I didn’t look at him closely. He wore a gray overcoat; he had raised the collar, and his hat was pulled down over his eyes. I don’t think he had a beard.”
“What was he like: thin, fat, tall, short?”
“Slight and skinny. His overcoat was a lot too big for him.”
“His trousers? His shoes?”
“I didn’t pay any attention to them.”
“That’s good. Now, listen to me, my boy. Here’s $5. If you meet that man again on your rounds, and he asks you for a report on your commission, tell him that I was very happy and I put the bouquet in water. But don’t tell him that I inquired about him. If you do that, your boss will be very unhappy and may fire you immediately. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, certainly, Miss King! And thank you very much! I’ll follow your instructions exactly.”
The young delivery boy bowed and left.
Ethel King, as soon as she was alone, leaned over so as to put her ear very near the bouquet she was holding cautiously. A smile, which didn’t look particularly joyful, played across her lips and she murmured:
“I believe, in fact, that I’ve acquired an admirer of a nice sort. He seems to love me to the point of not being content to consider my happiness on earth, but wants to give me eternal felicity.”
She put the bouquet carefully down on the table and opened the envelope which accompanied it. A little card with gold edges fell out of it. On that card she read the following lines, written in a heavy and firm masculine hand:
Very respected Miss Ethel King
Star of my sleepless nights.
Please allow a man who, lately, has nourished a feeling of adoration for you, to place at your feet his heart with these roses. May their perfume please you and give you a pleasant memory of the donor, who languishes with the desire to fold you in his arms.
Your very devoted,
Henry Alton.
“It’s certainly strange, the ideas that sometimes spring up in the head of rogues. It’s up to me to see that ardent declaration doesn’t ignite a fire.”
Sara Cramp came into the study at that moment. She glanced across at the splendid bouquet of roses and said in a grumpy tone:
“Well! That’s how it’s done! They begin by sending her bouquets, and from one thing to another, she’ll quickly come to her wedding, if I’m not very mistaken. Look here, Miss King, you’re troubling me! These roses have gotten to you, naturally! I can very well see it in your smiling expression. And then, do you really want to get married? Take me, for example. I had such a bad time with my late husband that when another came round who wanted to marry my savings account, I told him to look elsewhere, thanking him very kindly.”
“Calm down, Sara,” Miss King answered, laughing. “I’m not yet thinking of getting married. But most of all these roses need water, and please bring me a bucket full immediately.”
“A bucket full!” exclaimed the housekeeper. “The roses don’t need that much water. I’m going to put them in the big green vase. That will do very well.”
“Hurry up, Sara, please! I need a bucket full and right now!”
The tone was a command and not to be argued with. Sara didn’t try to discuss it any further. She left quickly and soon returned with a full bucket. She was accompanied by Charley Lux, the detective’s faithful young assistant who had just returned from an errand. The elderly woman had rapidly told him the history of the bouquet. He greeted his mistress politely and didn’t dare ask what she was going to do with all that water, despite the fact that he wanted to. That seemed to him extraordinary, but respect prevented his questioning Miss Ethel King.
Miss King placed the bucket on a chair; then she took a small, very sharp, pocket knife from her desk at the same time as the bouquet. She brought the bouquet close to the housekeeper’s ear.
“Listen, Sara,” she said to her. “Can’t you hear that the person who sent me this bouquet has cleverly hidden a nice surprise in it?”
The housekeeper listened an instant and answered:
“Exactly! I hear something. It sounds like the tick-tock of a watch.”
“And you, who know about these things, what could that be?”
The housekeeper shook her head.
“Maybe a pretty ladies’ watch in gold, set with diamonds.”
“Ah! That would be delightful,” Ethel King retorted, “but I can scarcely believe it. It’s hardly likely that a man who wants to send me into the next world, would make me a present like that.”
Sara took two steps backward, and pale with fright, exclaimed:
“What do you mean, ‘send you into the next world’?”
The detective turned to the young Lux.
“Look, Charley, can’t you almost say what’s in this bouquet?” she asked him. “Go on, try!”
Saying this, she slowly dipped the entire box of roses with the stems downward into the water and she began to carefully cut the strings which held the flowers together so that they were each separated, one from the others.
Charley thought a moment and suddenly a thought struck him. He exclaimed:
“That isn’t a…bomb, is it Miss King?”
He had
hardly said the word ‘bomb’ than Sara, letting out a loud scream, disappeared like lightning.
Ethel King nodded affirmatively to Charley, who couldn’t keep from turning pale, but he bravely stayed still.
During this time, Ethel King had finished separating the stems of the roses. From the middle of them, she took out a somewhat elongated metallic object tied to a minuscule clock mechanism. She detached the clock movement from the metal object, which resembled a small pine cone. She put the whole thing on her desk in order to examine the mechanism and explain it to her student.
“You see, Charley,” she told him, “the movement of the clock mechanism is constructed so that when it stops, it would let that little sort of hammer strike the top of the pine cone, which is just a percussion bomb. The impact would have set off the explosion, and we would have been blown to pieces. Judging by the state of the spring, I estimate we would have had about 30 minutes. But now that the two sections of the apparatus are separated, there’s no longer any danger. Such is, my dear Charley, the hellish refinement used against me by a man who says he adores me.”
Charley had almost stopped breathing. He had been in unspeakable agony while watching the ease with which his teacher fearlessly manipulated those terrible gears.
“I’m going to carry this same bomb and its mechanism to the police today,” she added, wrapping them separately in paper. “Please call Sara.”
Charley, completely reassured, rushed to the door, but he had to call a long time before the housekeeper, still trembling, risked putting her head through the half opened door.
“What am I to do?” she asked, still terrified.
Ethel King burst out in happy laughter and answered in a good natured voice:
“Just come in, Sara! There’s nothing more for you to be afraid of. You can bring the pretty green crystal vase. The roses now have nothing but their sweet odor. We’re going to put them in the window so that they can be seen from the outside.”
Sara brought the vase and her mistress arranged the roses artistically so as to keep the look of the bouquet brought to her. She placed it on the window sill.
The Adventures of Ethel King, the Female Nick Carter Page 7
