Anthony Trent, Master Criminal

by Wyndham Martyn

  Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images available at The Internet Archive)

  ANTHONY TRENT, MASTER CRIMINAL

  ANTHONY TRENT,MASTER CRIMINAL

  BY

  WYNDHAM MARTYN

  NEW YORKMOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY1918

  COPYRIGHT, 1918, BYMOFFAT YARD & COMPANY

  TOTHOSE OLD AND TRIED FRIENDS OF MINE

  LILY AND ERNEST CARR

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I THE FIRST STEP 1

  II ANTHONY TRENT TALKS ON CRIME 14

  III THE DAY OF TEMPTATION 24

  IV BEGINNING THE GAME 36

  V ANTHONY PULLS UP STAKES 45

  VI FOOLING SHYLOCK DRUMMOND 55

  VII THE DANGER OF SENTIMENT 68

  VIII WHEN A WOMAN SMILED 82

  IX "THE COUNTESS" 94

  X ANTHONY TRENT SAVES A PIANO 100

  XI ESPIONAGE AT CLOSE RANGE 116

  XII THE SINN FEIN PLOT 126

  XIII ANTHONY TRENT INTERESTS HIMSELF IN POLICE GOSSIP 135

  XIV AMBULANCES AND DIAMONDS 144

  XV THE BARON LENDS A HAND 156

  XVI THE MOUNT AUBYN RUBY 162

  XVII TRENT TAKES A HOLIDAY 172

  XVIII THE GREAT BLACK BIRD 180

  XIX TRENT ACQUIRES A HOME 192

  XX "WANTED--AN EMERALD" 196

  XXI THE MURDER OF ANDREW APTHORPE 208

  XXII A THIEF TO CATCH A THIEF 219

  XXIII THE SECRET OF THE BLACK BAG 227

  XXIV DEVLIN'S PROMISE 232

  XXV ON THE TRAIL OF "THE COUNTESS" 236

  XXVI ANTHONY TRENT--"PAYING GUEST" 251

  XXVII MRS. KINNEY MAKES A CONFESSION 267

  XXVIII THE GERMAN SPY MERCHANT 284

  XXIX MRS. KINNEY INTERVENES 297

  XXX "PRIVATE TRENT" 301

  XXXI DEVLIN'S REVENGE 309

  ANTHONY TRENT

  CHAPTER I

  THE FIRST STEP

  AUSTIN the butler gave his evidence in a straightforward fashion. He wasa man slightly below middle height, inclined to portliness, but borehimself with the dignity of one who had been likened to an archbishop.

  Although he had been examined by a number of minor officials, hectoredby them, threatened or cajoled as they interpreted their duty, histestimony remained the same. And when he hoped this tedious business wasall over, he was brought before Inspector McWalsh and compelled to beginall over again. It was McWalsh's theory that a man may be startled intotelling the truth that will convict him. He had a habit of leaningforward, chin thrust out, great fists clenched, and hurling accusationsat suspects.

  He disliked Austin at sight. The feeling was not wholly of nationalorigin. McWalsh liked witnesses, no less than criminals, to exhibit someindications of the terrors his name had inspired to the guilty. Austingazed about him as though the surroundings were not to his taste. Hisattitude was one of deferential boredom. He recognized the inspector asone representing justly constituted authority to be accepted withrespect in everything but a social sense.

  Inspector McWalsh permitted himself to make jocose remarks as toAustin's personal appearance. McWalsh passed for a wit among hisinferiors.

  "At half past twelve on Tuesday I came into the library," the butlerrepeated patiently, "and asked Mr. Warren if he wanted anything before Iwent to bed."

  "What did he say?" demanded the inspector.

  "That he did not want anything and that I could go to bed."

  "And you did?"

  "Naturally," the butler returned.

  "What duties have you the last thing before retiring?"

  "I see that the doors and windows are fastened."

  The inspector sneered. The small black eyes set in his heavy red faceregarded the smaller man malevolently.

  "And you did it so damn well that within an hour or so, ten thousanddollars' worth of valuables was walked off with by a crook! How do youaccount for that?"

  "I don't try to," the butler answered suavely, "that's for you gentlemenof the police. I have my duties and I attend to them as my testimonialsshow. I don't presume to give you advice but I should say it was becausethe crook was cleverer than your men."

  "Don't get funny," snapped McWalsh. He had on the table before himAustin's modest life history which consisted mainly in terms of serviceto wealthy families in England and the United States. These proved himto be efficient and trustworthy. "I want answers to my questions and notcomments from you."

  Austin's manner nettled him. It was that slightly superior air, theservants' mark of contempt. And never before had the inspector beenreferred to as "a gentleman of the police;" he suspected a slight.

  "Let's get this thing straight," he went on. "You went to bed when yourservices were no longer required. Your employer said to you, 'You can goto bed, Austin, I don't want anything,' so you locked up and retired.You didn't know anything about the burglary until half past six o'clockon Wednesday morning--this morning---- You aroused your employer whosent for the police. That's correct?"

  "Absolutely," Austin returned. He was, plainly, not much interested.

  "And you still stick to it that Mr. Warren made that remark?"

  Austin looked at the inspector quickly. His bored manner was gone.

  "Yes," he said deliberately. "To the best of my knowledge those were hiswords. I may have made a mistake in the phrasing but that is what hemeant."

  "What's the good of your coming here and lying to me?" The inspectorspoke in an aggrieved tone.

  "I was brought here against my will," Austin reminded him, "and I havenot lied, although your manner has been most offensive. You see, sir,I'm accustomed to gentlefolk."

  McWalsh motioned him to be silent.

  "That'll do," he commanded, "I'm not interested in what you think. Nowanswer this carefully. What clothes was Mr. Warren wearing?"

  "Evening dress," said the butler, "but a claret-colored velvet smokingjacket instead of a black coat."

  "How was he looking?"

  "Do you mean in what direction?"

  "You know I don't. I mean was he looking as usual? Was there anythingunusual in his look?"

  "Nothing that I noticed," Austin told him, "but then his back was to meso I am not competent to judge."

  "When you speak to any one don't you go up and look 'em in the face likea man same as I'm talking and looking at you?"

  Austin permitted himself to smile.

  "Do you suggest I should look at Mr. Warren as you are looking at me?Pardon me, sir, but I should lose my place if I did."

  McWalsh flushed a darker red.

  "Why didn't you look at him in your own way then?"

  "It's very clear," Austin answered with dignity, "that you know verylittle of the ways of an establishment like ours. I stood at the door asI usually do, asked a question I have done hundreds of times andreceived the same answer I do as a rule. If I'd known I was to have toanswer all these questions I might have recollected more about it."

  "What was Mr. Warren doing?"

  "Reading a paper and smoking."

  "He was alone?"

  "Yes."


  "And all the other servants had gone to bed?"

  "Yes."

  "You heard no unusual sounds that night?"

  "If I had I should have investigated them."

  "No doubt," sneered the other, "you look like a man who would enjoyrunning into a crook with a gun."

  "I should not enjoy it," Austin returned seriously.

  Inspector McWalsh beckoned to one of his inferiors.

  "Keep this man outside till I send for him and see he don't speak to hisboss who's waiting. Send Mr. Warren right in."

  Conington Warren, one of the most popular men in society, member of thedesirable clubs, millionaire owner of thoroughbreds, came briskly in. Hewas now about fifty, handsome still, but his florid face was marked bythe convivial years. Inspector McWalsh had long followed the Warrencolors famous on the big race courses. His manner showed his respect forthe owner of his favorite stable.

  "I asked you to come here," he began, "because you told my secretaryover the phone that you had some new light on this burglary. So far itseems just an ordinary case without any unusual angles."

  "It's not as ordinary as you think," said Conington Warren. He offeredMcWalsh one of his famous cigars. "Incidentally it does not show me upvery favorably as I'm bound to admit."

  McWalsh regarded his cigar reverently. Warren smoked nothing but thesesuperb things. What a man! What a man!

  "I can't believe that, Mr. Warren," he returned.

  "Are you interested in the thoroughbreds, McWalsh?"

  "Am I?" cried the other enthusiastically. "Why when I couldn't spend afew hours at old Sheepshead Bay I nearly resigned. Why, Mr. Warren, Imade enough on Conington when he won the Brooklyn Handicap to pay themortgage off on my home!"

  "Then you'll understand," the sportsman said graciously. "It's likethis. Last year I bought a number of yearlings at the Newmarket sales inEngland. There's one of them--a chestnut colt named Saint Beau--who dida most remarkable trial a day or two since. In confidence, inspector, itwas better than Conington's best. Make a note of that but keep it underyour hat."

  "I surely will, sir," cried the ecstatic McWalsh.

  "When I heard the time of the trial I gave a little dinner to a numberof good pals at Voisin's."

  The names he mentioned were all of them prominently known in thefashionable world of sport.

  "We had more champagne than was good for us and when the dinner was overwe all went to Reggie Camplyn's rooms where he invented the Saint Beaucocktail. I give you my word, inspector, the thing has a thoro'bred kickto it. It's one of those damned insidious cocktails wrapped up in creamto make you think it's innocent. After I'd had a few I said to Camplyn,'You've made me what I am to-night; I insist on sleeping here."

  "But you didn't!" cried McWalsh.

  "Until four in the morning. The Saint Beau cocktail made me so ill atfour that I got up and walked down to my house."

  "What time did you get there?"

  "Exactly at five. I felt the need of the cool air, so I took a long walkfirst."

  "Then at half past twelve you were at----"

  "Voisin's as a score of people can prove. I had a table in the balconyand saw all the people I ever knew it seemed to me."

  "But this morning you told the officers who made an investigation ofthe robbery a totally different story. You corroborated your butler'sevidence that you were at home at half past twelve and told him to go tobed because you didn't want anything else. How do you account for that?"

  The inspector was troubled. His only consolation was that he would haveanother session soon with the supercilious Austin. He licked his lips atthe thought. But he did not wish to involve the horseman in anydifficulties if he could avoid it.

  Conington Warren laughed easily.

  "You know how it is, inspector. You can understand that sometimes a mansuddenly waked out of heavy sleep can forget what happened the nightbefore for the time being. That's what happened with me. I clean forgotthe dinner, Camplyn's Saint Beau cocktail, everything. I only knew I hadthe devil of a head. I always rely on Austin."

  "When did you remember?" McWalsh demanded.

  "When Camplyn came in to see me and ask for the ingredients of thecocktail which he claims I invented. Then I recollected everything andtelephoned to you."

  "I knew that damned fellow was lying," McWalsh cried. "He thought he wasclever. He'll find out just how smart he is! Tell me, Mr. Warren, whatdid he want to put up that fiction for?"

  Warren put a hot hand to a head which still ached.

  "I can't imagine," he answered. "I've never found him out in a lie yet.He's too damn conceited to descend to one. I don't think you shouldsuspect Austin."

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Warren, but I've got to. He lied to you and he lied tome and--ten thousand dollars' worth of stuff was stolen. He's in theouter room now. I'll have him brought in."

  Austin entered with his precise and measured tread and bowed withrespectful affection to his employer. He liked Conington Warren betterthan any American with whom he had taken service. The hearty,horse-loving type was one which appealed to Austin. He had several timesbeen obliged to throw up lucrative jobs because employers persisted intreating him as an equal.

  "This is a bad mix-up," his master began. "The inspector seems to thinkyou have been deceiving him."

  "He has and he knows it," cried McWalsh.

  "He's inclined to be hasty, sir," said Austin tolerantly.

  "See here," snapped the inspector, "you say you found Mr. Warren in hislibrary at half past twelve. Did you hear him enter the house?"

  "No," the butler returned, "he has his key."

  "The thing we want to clear up," interrupted Mr. Warren in a kindlytone, "is simply this. What did I say to you when you spoke to me?"

  Austin looked uncomfortable.

  "It was a gesture, sir, rather than a word. You waved your arm and Iknew what you meant."

  "You are one prize liar!" roared the inspector. "You said somethingquite different when I asked you."

  "I don't see that it matters much," Austin returned acidly. "On Mondaynight Mr. Warren may have said for me to go to bed. On Tuesday he mayhave waved his hand impatient like. On Wednesday he may have asked forcigars or the evening papers. I remember only that on this occasion Iwas not asked for anything." He turned to his employer, "I should liketo remind you, sir, that we are giving a dinner party to-night and Iought to be seeing after it now. Can I go, sir?"

  "You cannot," cried Inspector McWalsh, "you're under arrest!"

  "I told you he was hasty, sir," said Austin without emotion. "What formay I ask?"

  "Let me answer him please, inspector," begged Conington Warren. "Youtold the police that you saw me sitting in my library. Are you preparedto swear to that, Austin?"

  "Certainly, sir," said the man. "You were in the big turkish rocker,smoking one of the cigars you are smoking now and reading the SportingTimes."

  "I'd give a thousand dollars to know who that was!" Warren commented."It wasn't I at all. I was dining at Voisin's at that hour."

  For the first time Austin was acutely disturbed.

  "I don't understand," he stammered. "It looked like you, sir, it didindeed."

  "And if you'd only gone up like a man and looked in his face you'd haveseen the burglar," McWalsh said scowling.

  Austin looked at the speaker coldly.

  "It is not my business to suspect my employer of being a crook. If it'scrime to be deceived then I'm guilty. I admit I didn't look veryclosely. I was sleepy and wanting to get to bed, but I did notice thatwhoever it was wore a claret colored velvet smoking jacket."

  "I've a list here," said McWalsh, "given my men by the footman of thepeople who called at Mr. Warren's house yesterday. Look it over and seeif you can supplement it."

  "There was one other visitor," Austin said slowly, "an intimate friendof Mr. Warren's, but I don't know his name. I didn't admit him."

  "That's curious," said his employer. "I thought you knew every one whowas intimate enough to come
to my home. What was he like?"

  "I didn't see him full face," the other admitted, "but he was tall,about your height, but dark in coloring with a rather large nose. Itstruck me he was a trifle in liquor if I may say so."

  "I don't remember any one like that," Warren asserted.

  "The gentleman," said Austin anxious to establish his point, "who betyou ten thousand dollars that his filly could beat your Saint Beau atfive furlongs."

  "This is all damned nonsense," returned Conington Warren a littlecrossly, "I'm in possession of my full senses now at all events. I madeno such wager."

  "I told you he was a crook, Mr. Warren," cried McWalsh gleefully. "Seewhat he's trying to put over on you now!"

  "Surely, sir," said the butler anxiously, "you remember asking agentleman to come into your dressing room?"

  "You're crazy," his master declared, "I asked nobody. Why should I?"

  "He was standing just inside the room as I passed by. He was very merry.He was calling you 'Connie' like only your very intimate friends do."

  "And what was I saying?" Warren returned, impressed with the earnestnessof one in whom he believed.

  "I didn't listen, sir," the butler answered. "I was just passing alongthe hall."

  "Did you hear Mr. Warren's voice?" McWalsh demanded suddenly.

  Austin reflected.

  "I wouldn't swear to it," he decided.

  "What time was it?" Warren asked.

  "A little after ten," said Austin.

  "I left the house at eight, so you are not likely to have heard me. Iwas at Voisin's from half past eight until nearly one. When did youfirst see this supposed friend?"

  "I was going up the main stairway as he was about to come down towardme. Almost directly I saw him--and I didn't at the time think he sawme--he turned back as if you had called him from your room. He said,'What is it, Connie?' then he walked down the corridor and stood halfway in your room talking to you as I supposed. He looked like agentleman who might belong to your clubs, sir, and spoke like one. Whatwas I to think?"

  "I'm not blaming you," said Conington Warren. "I'm as puzzled as youare. Didn't Yogotama see him when he went to my room to get my smokingjacket which you say he wore? What was Yogotama doing to allow that sortof thing?"

  "You forget, sir," explained Austin, "that Yogotama wasn't there."

  "Why wasn't he?"

  "Directly he got your note he went off to the camp."

  "This gets worse and worse," Warren asserted. "I sent him no note."

  "He got one in your writing apparently written on the stationery of theKnickerbocker Club. I saw it. You told him to go instantly to your campand prepare it for immediate occupancy. He was to take Evans and one ofthe touring cars. He got the note about half past eight."

  "Just after you'd left the house," McWalsh commented.

  "It didn't take Yogotama a half hour to prepare," added Austin.

  "What do you make of it, inspector?" Warren demanded.

  "A clever crook, that's all," said the other, "but he can't pullanything like that in this town and get away with it."

  Austin made a polite gesture implying doubt. It incensed the official.

  "You don't think so, eh?"

  "Not from what I've seen of your methods. I've no doubt you can dealwith the common ruck of criminals, but this man is different. It may beeasy enough for a man to deceive you people by pretending to be agentleman but we can see through them. Frankly," said Austin growingbolder, "I don't think you gentlemen of the police have the native witfor the higher kind of work."

  Warren looked from one to the other of them. This was a new andrebellious Austin, a man chafing under a personal grievance, abelligerent butler.

  "You mustn't speak like that to Inspector McWalsh," he commanded. "He isdoing his duty."

  "That may be sir," Austin remarked, "but how would you like to be called'Little Lancelot from Lunnon'?"

  "You look it," McWalsh said roughly. "Anyway I've no time to argue withhouse servants. What you've got to do is to look through our collectionof pictures and see if you can identify any of 'em with the man you sayyou saw."

  Austin surveyed the faces with open aversion.

  "He's not here," said Austin decisively. "He was not this criminal typeat all. I tell you I mistook him for a member of Mr. Warren's clubs, thekind of gentleman who dines at the house. These," and he pointedderisively to the pillories of crime. "You wouldn't be likely to see anyof these at our house. They are just common."

  McWalsh sneered.

  "I see. Look more like policemen I suppose?"

  Austin smiled blandly.

  "The very thing that was in my mind."