The Adventures of Ethel King, the Female Nick Carter

by Jean Petithuguenin

  And turning toward the Chief of Police she added:

  “You see, Mr. Golding, I’ve kept my word. The rest is up to you.”

  “And you’ve really well earned the $20,000,” answered the Chief, giving her a warm handshake.

  She then started back to her house, while Golding transported his prisoners to the holding cells.

  Jack the Ripper was convicted of Mrs. Carry’s murder. They found on him all he had stolen from the dead woman. His handwriting proved also that he was the instigator of the attack attempted against Ethel King. He was condemned to end his career in the electric chair. His accomplices, all criminals long sought by the police, got off with several years of hard labor, except John Nagaman, who was given life in prison.

  The clever and daring arrest of the monster who had made the name Jack the Ripper grimly well-known, was to the great honor of Miss Ethel King, the female detective, and assured her a worldwide reputation at the same time.

  4. THE SIGN OF THE DEVIL

  Mrs. Minnie Willow

  Mrs. Minnie Willow, a young widow, owned a pretty country house located in Swanborough, about 30 miles northwest of Philadelphia. She was noted for her wealth and her beauty. The evening parties she gave every week were regularly attended by a crowd of friends and acquaintances.

  She naturally had an army of admirers, among whom were immensely rich land owners. So there was great surprise when the widow announced her engagement to a scientist with no fortune. The doctor, Ralf Arling, lived in Philadelphia. He did research in the natural sciences and had already published some remarkable works. During his research excursions in the area around Philadelphia, he had often passed through Swanborough and Mrs. Willow had invited him to her teas.

  The scientist had soon fallen in love with the beautiful widow, who responded to his love.

  The news of the approaching marriage of Ralf Arling and Minnie Willow had caused a lot of disappointments. The young woman had received many good wishes which didn’t come from the heart. But she worried very little about it. Her love was enough to make her happy, and the visits of her fiancé, who came to see her several times a week, were always too seldom and too short for her taste.

  It was a rainy autumn day, a Sunday. Minnie Willow, lay stretched out on a chaise longue, her gaze lost in the distance. Her marriage was to take place in ten days. She noticed her reflection in the mirror and sent it a happy wave.

  “I’m beautiful!” she murmured softy with her red, well outlined lips. “And it’s for him…for him alone!”

  But her look halted at the clock and she trembled.

  “My God! It’s already 11:30 a.m.! And Ralf hasn’t arrived yet? He usually arrives at 10 a.m. I hope nothing has happened to him! He promised me to be on time today.”

  At that moment, the front doorbell rang.

  “Ah! There he is,” the young woman said, breathing a sigh of relief. A minute later, the maid came to announce:

  “Mr. John Gettys, the constable, asks if Madam can see him.”

  Minnie, disappointed, replied with irritation: “Have you forgotten my orders? I’m not at home for anyone…and most of all for that man I’ve never liked.”

  “Mr. Gettys insists; he’s come, he says, for an important matter concerning Doctor Arling.”

  Minnie turned pale.

  “Ralf!” she exclaimed. “The constable has come because of Ralf? What’s happened? Show the gentleman in.”

  The maid left. Minnie automatically placed her hand on her breast to slow down the beating of her heart.

  “What’s happened?” she repeated. “Has Ralf been the victim of an attack?”

  The constable came in, a strange smile on his lips. He was a handsome man, tall, with a good physique, and a carefully tended beard. He wore an impeccable jacket, patent leather boots, and carried a high hat in his hand. He bowed very low and simply said:

  “Mrs. Willow.”

  “What do you want?” the young woman asked.

  Gettys nodded and looked serious.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you bad news. You can’t know Mrs. Willow, how long the road coming to you has seemed to me.”

  Minnie had become deathly pale. She crushed a batiste handkerchief in her clenched hand.

  “But tell me then!” she exclaimed. “The facts, sir, get to the facts! Can’t you see what state you’ve put me in?”

  The constable was hesitating.

  “My fiancé is he…is he dead?” continued the widow in failing voice.

  “If that was all it was!” said Gettys, in a pitying tone of voice that made Minnie want to slap him.

  “What worse could have happened to him? My Heavens, this isn’t possible…no, a thousand times no.”

  “Unfortunately it is, Madame…Ralf Arling is charged with a burglary, for which he is wanted by the police.”

  Minnie stood as if petrified. The last drop of blood had drained from her face. She stood still, her eyes staring and haggard, her lips partially open; she didn’t seem to understand what the constable had just told her. But suddenly, her look flashed, the red of indignation filled her livid cheeks.

  “You’re lying,” she exclaimed. “Ralf Arling is incapable of a bad deed.”

  “Nevertheless what I’ve told you is the truth, Madam. Calm down, please, and control yourself. Alas! I can’t change anything about the events. And please believe me, no one could deplore any more than I do that you have given your love to…someone unworthy.”

  “Mr. Gettys!” the young woman exclaimed angrily.

  “Let me tell you everything without holding anything back. That’s the best way to cure your broken heart. You will have to undergo a painful struggle, but it will be brief.”

  “Tell everything you want to, I won’t believe you. I know Ralf’s noble character too well to believe for an instant that he is guilty.”

  “But, Madam, at least listen to the facts! My superiors gave me the painful mission of telling you. I would wish with all my heart that Mr. Arling were innocent, but the circumstances are such that there can be no doubt.”

  The widow, who had stood up nervously at the constable’s first words, fell back into a chair. She shook her head.

  “I don’t believe any of that story. Tell me, nevertheless, what you’ve been sent to tell me.”

  She pointed to a chair for the policeman, who began in a low voice.

  “Last night in Philadelphia, while looking for a dangerous pickpocket, I passed by Alexander Street. A policeman came up to me and, very excited, told me that someone had just broken into the offices of Timbora and Son’s factory. Obeying my duty as a policeman, I ran to the factory with the agent. On the way, he told me that, while making his rounds, he had noticed a light in the offices. He had immediately scaled the fence which surrounds the factory’s grounds and hurried toward the building. He was afraid, with reason, that an intruder had broken in. At that moment, the light went out and a man jumped out a window and left running. The policeman shouted at him to stop, but the thief had agilely jumped the fence and fled too quickly for the agent to catch him. The man turned around for an instant when passing under a street lamp and revealed his features. He was blond, with a hooked nose. He had a beard and was wearing a soft hat. He was carrying a package under his arm.”

  The constable stopped to observe the beautiful widow. She was listening without flinching, a jeering smile playing across her lips.

  “Go on!” she said.

  “I went with the police agent to wake up the Director of the factory to tell him about the incident. He went with us to the offices and verified that the safe had been broken into. A little steel box holding $12,000 had disappeared. But here’s the most significant thing. The investigation that I began on the spot led me to discover, on the ground, beside the safe, this little medallion.”

  Gettys took out a little gold medallion and presented it to Mrs. Willow. The young woman trembled and looked with astonishment at what the policeman had found.


  “This piece of jewelry has a very unusual shape. I immediately had the impression of having seen it before. But where? I searched my memory: it was at your house…hanging on Ralf Arling’s watch chain! My suspicion was transformed into certainty when, on opening the locket, I found inside your miniature portrait. Then I remembered the description of the burglar the policeman had given me: a blond man with a hooked nose, bearded, wearing a soft hat…No more doubt, the guilty man was Ralf Arling.”

  “No, it wasn’t he!” Minnie exclaimed. “If you furnished me with a thousand other proofs, I would still repeat: He’s not the one!”

  “However, you’ll certainly be forced to recognize that I’m right, Madam. I understand that it’s hard for you to believe, but the facts are there.”

  “No, no, there’s not a word of truth in all that!”

  The constable looked at the widow angrily.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” he demanded.

  “No, but you’re surely mistaken. If you knew Ralf as I do, you would know that he is incapable of committing a robbery.”

  “People sometimes have great illusions about a man’s character. Remember the proverb: ‘Still waters run deep.’ ”

  “Don’t insult Ralf! He’s the best, the noblest man there is!”

  “Hear more, Madam. My investigations finished, I returned immediately to Police Headquarters. Inspector Golding was there and I made my report to him. He ordered me to go to Doctor Arling’s domicile and arrest him. The Doctor wasn’t at home, but we made a new discovery in his bedroom which completely overwhelmed me. Ralf Arling had thought it wise to flee, but he had left the strong box stolen at the factory; no need to say that the steel box had been forced open and emptied of its contents.”

  The constable stopped talking. Minnie remained mute, her regard lost in the distance.

  “It goes without saying,” the constable repeated, “an arrest warrant has been issued against Ralf Arling. His description has already been circulated in every direction.”

  The young woman stood up.

  “Ralf is innocent,” she said firmly. “He’s the victim of a devilish plot. I’m convinced, sir, that Doctor Arling will prove himself innocent sooner or later and that the one who wanted to make him perish will be punished.”

  Gettys had immediately risen.

  “I’m very sorry, Madam, that I’m the one fate has chosen to bring you this news. If you persist in believing in the innocence of your former fiancé, that’s all to your honor for it proves your soul is noble and generous.”

  “My former fiancé? No, Mr. Gettys, you are mistaken. I’m more than ever attached to him, and I’ll stay faithful to him until death!”

  The constable shrugged.

  “You will perhaps change your opinion when Ralf Arling is in prison.”

  “Ah! That’s the last straw! Leave, Mr. Gettys. You’re not the man to be considerate of a woman who is suffering. Leave me!”

  As he was leaving, Gettys turned around one last time and said:

  “You misunderstand my intentions, Mrs. Willow. No one wishes to see you happy more than I do. If you ever need a friend whom you can absolutely rely on, come to me. Goodbye, Madam.”

  He left and shut the door rather loudly.

  Mrs. Willow remained standing some minutes in the same spot, deep in thought. Thoughts were whirling around in her head. She felt she was about to lose her mind, but the unshakeable confidence she had in the innocence of her fiancé sustained her. Obeying a sudden impulse, she went to the telephone. She had just had an idea which seemed to her to have been inspired by God himself.

  She got connected to Ethel King, the famous Philadelphia detective. Ethel King was at home. Mrs. Willow told her about the visit from the constable and asked her to use her expertise to help remove the terrible suspicion weighing on Dr. Arling. The widow was deeply relieved when the master detective agreed to take charge of the case and promised to go to Swanborough with Charley as soon as possible.

  A Consultation

  For the clarity of the story, we must go back in time to recount some facts that were only revealed later by the confession of a criminal.

  The evening preceding the events we have just reported, Friday, John Gettys had received a visit from Dr. Arling at his home. He was acquainted with him, having often encountered him at Mrs. Willow’s teas.

  “Sir,” he said to him, “I believe my life is in danger and I’ve come to ask for your protection. If I’ve come to you instead of taking my case directly to the Chief of Police, it’s because I wish to avoid troublesome publicity. On the eve of my marriage, I don’t want the case to be spread about; not that I have anything to reproach myself with, but Mrs. Willow, my fiancée, might be sadly affected by all those stories.”

  Gettys looked at his visitor with curiosity.

  “I’m listening, sir. What’s it all about? Please believe that I would be delighted to render you service.”

  “Here it is, Mr. Gettys. For about a month, I’ve been receiving, every two or three days, threatening letters, in which I’m told that if I don’t willingly give up Mrs. Willow’s hand, a way will be found to prevent my marriage, even killing me, if need be.”

  “The devil!”

  “I’ve brought you the letters that you can study at your leisure. Now, yesterday, on leaving my fiancée’s house, I was crossing the Swanborough moor at nightfall to go catch the train when I heard a pistol shot and a bullet whistled past my ears. I didn’t have a weapon. No one would have heard me in that deserted part of the countryside if I had called for help. Running away would have been as dangerous as facing my unknown aggressor. Therefore, I chose the wisest thing. I fell down as if I had been wounded. Then, hidden in the bushes, I crawled some 100 feet further on, where I remained crouching in a ditch hidden by the bushes. I owe my safety to this stratagem, because the criminal started to search for me. I saw him going back and forth at the place where he had seen me disappear. Finally, he passed very close to my hiding place muttering: ‘It’s too dark now. I can’t find him. I’ll come tomorrow morning at dawn.’ ”

  “You were in fact in grave danger, Mr. Arling,” said the constable, pretending to be very struck by the doctor’s story. “Can you give me a description that will help me find your aggressor?”

  “Yes, Mr. Gettys, precisely. As the murderer was walking away, I slid out of my hiding place and I followed him cautiously. He took a path that ended at a little woodcutter’s cabin, about a mile from Swanborough. It appears that he lives in that little house. I saw him go in there.”

  Gettys nodded with a satisfied look. “Good,” he said, “we’ll take him in his lair. But it doesn’t seem very likely to me that that individual was acting for himself. He must have been hired by someone to kill you. Can you point out to me the person from whom the threats you received came?”

  “Not absolutely, unfortunately, sir. I have only suspicions; I will confide them to you on the condition that you promise me to keep them secret.”

  “We are friends, Doctor. You have earned my discretion.”

  Arling thought a moment. He finally said: “I had the misfortune to inspire a violent passion in a Russian dancer who was passing through Philadelphia. I did nothing to cause that, I assure you. I only met that woman, a certain Wanda Baranowsky, several times at evening gatherings. You have perhaps heard of her.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Well, that woman, scorning decency, made advances, that I naturally opposed with indignant reserve. I suppose that her love was transformed into fierce hatred. I can’t say that the threatening letters came from her. The handwriting doesn’t look like that of a woman. But I have an idea that they were inspired by Wanda Baranowsky. You will see that in one of those ‘love letters’ they threatened to ‘carry my head to a person I had offended.’ Until now I had considered that correspondence as a joke in bad taste, or, at the most, as an awkward stratagem to make me decide to give up a union that will be the happiness of my existence. But
after my adventure of yesterday evening, the thing seems to me a great deal more serious.”

  The constable thought a few minutes and then stated:

  “It seems to me difficult to implicate Wanda Baranowsky in this affair, at least so long as her accomplice hasn’t been caught. So, the first thing to do is to get hold of your attacker. I’ll be in Swanborough in an hour and I’ll begin my investigation. I’ll follow the criminal’s trail and keep him from making another attempt on your life. I can’t, however, arrest him just on the basis of your testimony. He wouldn’t have any trouble getting released and returned to freedom, and everything would begin again. It will, therefore, be necessary for you to help me.”

  “I couldn’t ask for anything better, Mr. Gettys. What must I do?”

  “Return tomorrow evening, Saturday, at nightfall, to the spot where you were attacked on the Swanborough moor.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I want the murderer to renew his attack, in order to catch him in the act.”

  Dr. Arling was perplexed.

  “What? Isn’t that quite dangerous?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be on watch. I won’t let the scoundrel out of my sight for a second, I swear to you. He won’t give you a scratch.”

  The young scientist wasn’t a fighter. He had perhaps never in his life handled a revolver, but he possessed that quiet bravery that is the panache of noble souls.

  “All right,” he decided, “I’ll follow your advice.” And smiling, he added, “I’m putting my life in your hands.”

  “It’s safe there,” the constable replied with a strange intonation which would have surprised a man less ignorant of evil than Arling was. “But I have one recommendation to give you. Don’t talk about this to anyone, especially to Mrs. Willow. You would worry her without cause and perhaps put an obstacle in the way of carrying out our plan. Don’t even say that you’ve come to consult me.”

  “It’s agreed. Besides, I won’t see Mrs. Willow until tomorrow morning.”