Anthony Trent, Master Criminal

by Wyndham Martyn

  CHAPTER XXV

  ON THE TRAIL OF "THE COUNTESS"

  The expert has usually a critical sense well developed. It was so withAnthony Trent. He read the details of all the crimes treated in thedaily press almost jealously. What the police regarded as clevercriminals were seldom such in his eyes. There were occasionally crimeswhich won his admiration but they were few and far between. Violence toTrent's mind was a confession of incompetency, the grammar school typeof crime to a university trained mind. One morning the papers wereunusually full of such examples of robberies with attendant assaults.Clumsy work, he commented, and then came to a robbery in Long Island ofjewels whose aggregate value was more than a hundred thousand dollars.

  The home of Peter Chalmers Rosewarne at the Montauk Point end of LongIsland was the victimized abode. All Americans knew Peter ChalmersRosewarne. He was the "Tin King," enormously wealthy, splendidlygenerous and fortune's favorite. His father had been a Cornish miningcaptain who had come from Huel Basset to make a million in the UnitedStates. His son had made ten millions.

  His Long Island place, known as St. Michael's Mount after that estate inCornwall near where his father had been born, was a show place. Thegardens were extraordinary. The house was filled with treasures whichonly the intelligent rich may gather together. Rosewarne was a convivialsoul in the best sense of the phrase. He loved company and he loveddisplay and more than all he loved his wife on whom he showered thebeautiful things women adore. Abstractors of precious stones wouldgravitate naturally to such a home as his.

  Anthony Trent remembered that the Rosewarne strain of Airedales was thebest the breed had to show. He had read once that Rosewarne turned hisdogs loose at nights and laughed burglars to scorn. And well he might,for of all dogs, the gods have blessed none with such sense as theAiredales possess. Theirs not to bark indiscriminately or bite theirmaster's friends. Theirs to reason why: to know instinctively what ishidden from the lesser breeds.

  A dozen such dogs roaming their master's grounds, their guardianinstincts aroused, would effectually bar out strangers. That a robberyhad been committed at St. Michael's Mount spelled for Trent an insidejob. The papers told him that a large house party was gathered under thehospitable Rosewarne roof. Rosewarne himself indignantly denied thepossibility of his guests' guilt. The servants seemed equallysatisfactory.

  Sifting the news Anthony Trent learned that the suspected person was agirl who had been member of a picnic party using the Rosewarne grounds.There was a space of nearly ten acres which the mining man had reservedfor parties, suitably recommended, who made excursions from theConnecticut side of the Sound. Here Sunday Schools passed blameless daysand organized clambakes. The party to which the suspected girl belongedwas a camp for working girls situated on one of the Thimble Islands.

  Nearly forty of them, enjoying the privilege of the Rosewarne grounds,had spent the day there. Mrs. Rosewarne herself had seen them departinto the evening mist. Then she had seen, thirty minutes later, a girlrunning to the water's edge. She was dressed, as were the others of herparty, with red trimmed middy blouse and red ribbons in her hair. Abrunette, rather tall and slight, and awed when the chatelaine of thegreat estate asked what was the matter. It seemed she had become tiredand had slept. When she awoke the boat was gone; she had not beenmissed.

  Mrs. Rosewarne was not socially inept enough to bring the simple girl toher own sophisticated dinner table. Instead the girl had an ample mealin the housekeeper's room. At nine o'clock a fast launch was to be readyto take her to her camp. It might easily overtake the sail boat if thebreezes died down.

  At nine-fifteen the mechanician in charge of the boat came excitedlyinto the house to relate his unhappy experiences. The girl, wrapped inmotor coat, was safely in the boat when she begged the man to get her aglass of water from the boat house at the dock. It was while he wasdoing so that the boat disappeared. He heard her call to him in frightand then saw the boat--one capable of twenty knots an hour--glide awaywith the girl holding her hands out to him supplicatingly. She hadfooled with the levers, he averred, and would probably perish inconsequence. It was while Rosewarne considered the matter of sending outhis yacht in pursuit that the discovery was made that a hundredthousand dollars worth of jewels had been taken.

  The mechanician had been fooled, of that they were now assured, and theworking girl became a fleeing criminal. The sudden temptation throughseeing sparkling stones in profusion was the result. A number of boatswent in pursuit and the ferries were watched, but the fast motor launchwas not found.

  Considering the case from the evidence he had at command Trent wascertain it was no genuine member of the working girls' camp who had donethis thing. Every move spoke of careful preparation. Some one had chosena moment to appear at the Mount when suspicion would be removed and hercoming seem logical. And no ordinary person would have been able todrive a high powered boat as she had done. Another thing which seemedconclusive proof of his correctness was the fact that the girl hadoverlooked--this was as the police phrased it--Mrs. Simeon Power's pearlnecklace and the diamond tiara belonging to Mrs. Campbell Glenelg. Thisomission supported the police theory that it was the work of aninexperienced criminal.

  Anthony Trent chuckled as he read this. He also had rejected the Power'spearls and the Glenelg tiara. They had been in his appraising hand._They were both extraordinarily good imitations!_ Assuredly a timidworking girl could not be such a judge of this. She was a professionaland a clever one. Probably she had sunk the launch and swam ashore.

  Later reports veered around to his view. The camp people were highlyindignant at being saddled with a criminal. They had counted nosesbefore embarkation and none was missing. Mrs. Rosewarne described thegirl and so did the housekeeper. The latter, remarking on the slightlyforeign intonation, was told by the girl herself that she came from NewBedford where her father was employed in a textile mill belonging toDangerfield. Like so many of the inhabitants of this mill town he was ofFrench Canadian stock and habitually spoke French in the home. But thehousekeeper who had served the wealthy in England and Continental Europewould have it that this intruder come of a higher social class than NewBedford mills afford.

  Interviewing the housekeeper in the guise of a Branford newspaper manTrent asked her a hundred questions. And each one of her answersconfirmed the belief that had grown in him. This clever woman was "TheCountess." He felt certain of it. That slight intonation was hers. Thefigure, the height, the coloring. And of course the exact knowledge ofwhat stones were good and what were not. This was another count againsther for Trent had marked St. Michael's Mount for his hunting ground andnow precautions against abstractors would be redoubled.

  He felt almost certain that this was the Countess's first exploit sinceher escape from the hotel after the Guestwick robbery. He had followedthe papers too closely to miss any unusual crime. A woman of herbreeding need never drop to association with the typical criminal. Sinceshe was marooned in the United States during the war she was ofnecessity cut off from her favorite Riviera hunting grounds. Where,then, might she meet the wealthy set if not among the owners of bigestates on Long Island? Trent felt it probable that she was near somesuch social center as Meadowbrook or Piping Rock. How was he to findher?

  To begin with he decided to attend the Mineola Horse and Dog show. Thiscountry fair, held during late September, invariably attracted, as heknew, all the horse-loving polo-riding elements of the smart set. Not togo there, not to be interested intelligently in horses, hounds and dogswas a confession of ineligibility to the great Long Island homes.

  Although he entertained a bare hope of seeing her and passed the firstday in disappointment, he saw her almost directly he entered the showgrounds on the second morning. She looked very smart in her ridinghabit, her hair was done in a more severe coiffure than he had noticedbefore. She was talking to a well known society woman, also in ridingkit, a Mrs. Hamilton Buxton, famous for her horses and her loves. But hecould not judge from this whether or not the Countess was on friendlyterm
s with her or not. There is a _camaraderie_ among those who exhibithorses or dogs which is of the ring-side and not the salon. Outside itwas possible Mrs. Hamilton Buxton might not recognize her.

  Later on he saw that both women were riding in the class for ladies'hunters, to be ridden side saddle by the owners. So the Countess ownedhunters now! Well, he expected something of the sort from a woman whohad outwitted so astute a craftsman as himself. In a sense he was gladof it. It was better to find her in such a set as this. When she rodearound the ring he saw by the number she bore that she was a Madame deBeaulieu of Old Westbury. She rode very well. There was the _hauteecole_ stamp about her work and she was placed second to Mrs. HamiltonBuxton whose chestnut was of a better type.

  Anthony Trent went straightway to New York. He did not want to beseen--yet. He called up a certain number and made an appointment with aMr. Moor. This man, David Moor, was a private detective without ambitionand without imaginative talent. It always amused Trent when he employeda detective to find out details that were laborious in the gathering. Insome subtle manner Trent had given Moor the impression that he was asecret service agent exceedingly high in the department.

  "Moor," he said briskly as the small and depressed David entered theroom, "I want to find all about a Madame de Beaulieu who lives in OldWestbury, Long Island. I suspect her of being a German spy. Find outwhat other members of the household there are, and who calls. Whetherthey are in society or only trying to be. I want a full and reliablereport. The tradesmen know a whole lot as a rule and servants generallytalk. I want to know as soon as possible but keep on the job until youhave something real." He knew that Moor by reason of an amazingly largefamily was always hard up. He handed him fifty dollars. "Take this forexpenses."

  Moor went from the room with tears in his eyes. He looked at Trent as aloving dog looks at its master. Two years before his wife lay at thepoint of death, needing, more than anything, a rest from householdworries and the noise of her offspring. Trent sent her to a sanitariumand the children to camps for the whole of a hot summer. In his dull,depressed fashion, Moor was always hoping that some day he could dosomething to help this benefactor who waved his thanks aside.

  The report, written in Moor's small, clear writing, entertained Trentvastly. Madame de Beaulieu was a daughter of France whose husband wasfighting as an officer of Chasseurs and had been decorated thrice. Manypictures adorned the house of her hero. She had a French maid whoallowed herself to be very familiar with her mistress. Undoubtedly shewas the "aunt" of the Guestwick occasion. The men of the household weredoubtful according to Moor. One was Madame's secretary, an Americannamed Edward Conway, who looked after her properties, and the other anEnglishman, Captain Monmouth, a former officer of cavalry who had brokenan ankle in a steeple chase, so the report ran, and was debarred frommilitary service. He was a cousin by marriage. The servants assertedthat he was an amazingly lucky player at bridge or indeed of any cardgame. So much so indeed that the neighboring estate owners who had beeninclined to be friendly were now stiffly aloof. The captain's skill atdealing was uncanny. Bills were piling up against them all. It was duelargely to this that Moor was able to get so much information. Avituperative tradesman sets no watch on his tongue. Conway, thesecretary, confined his work almost entirely to drinking. There weremany bitter wrangles at the table but the English tongue was neveradopted on such occasions. The part of Moor's screed which interestedTrent most was that there had been a discussion overheard by adisgruntled maid to take in some wealthy paying guest and offer to gethim into Long Island's hunting set. It would be worth a great deal toan ambitious man to gain an entree into some of these famous Westburyhomes. Of course the odd household could probably not live up to suchpromises but its members had done a great deal. For example, a Sundaypaper in its photogravure supplement had snapped Madame de Beaulieutalking with Mrs. Hamilton Buxton; and Captain Monmouth was there to beseen chatting with Wolfston Colman, the great polo player. An excellentbeginning astutely planned.

  It was while Anthony Trent debated as to whether he dare risk theCountess's recognition of him that a wholly accidental circumstanceoffered him the opportunity.

  Suffering from a slightly inflamed neck he was instructed to applydioxygen to the area. This he did with such cheerful liberality that hisshaving mirror next day showed him a man with black hair at the frontand a vivid blond at the back. The dioxygen had helped him to blondnessas it had helped a million brunettes of the other sex. For a moment hewas chagrined. Then he saw how it might aid. It was his intention to goback to Kennebago for the deer hunting and accordingly he despatchedMrs. Kinney post haste. She was used to these erratic commands and sawnothing out of the ordinary in the fact that he was in a bath robe witha turkish towel wound about his head. He was in dread of becoming baldand was continually fussing with his hair. In a day or so Anthony Trentwas a changed being. His eyes had a hazel tint in them which formed nottoo startling a contrast to his new blondness. He was careful to touchup his eyebrows also.

  Shutting up his flat he registered at a newly built hotel as OscarLindholm of Wisconsin. He would pass for what we assume the handsometype of Scandinavian to be. It was at this hotel Captain Monmouth stayedwhen he came to indulge in what he termed a "flutter" with the cards.There were still a few houses in the city where one could be reasonablysure of quiet. Hard drinking youths were barred at these houses. Theybecame quarrelsome. The men who played were in the main big business menwho could win without exhuberance or lose without going to the districtattorney. They were invariably good players and lost only to theprofessionals. And their tragedy was that they could not tell aprofessional until the game was done. Captain Monmouth always excited inplayers of this type a certain spirit of contempt. He was so languid, sogently spoken, so bored at things. And he consumed so much Scotchwhiskey that he seemed primed for sacrifice. But he was never thealtar's victim. He was always so staggered at his unexpected goodfortune that he readily offered a revenge. A servant had told David Moorthat the household was supported on these earnings.

  Captain Monmouth, stepping through the lounge on the way to his taxi,caught sight of Oscar Lindholm. Oscar was leaning against the bar railtalking loudly of the horse. Five hours later Oscar was still standingat the bar and the horse was still his theme. Monmouth was a carefulsoul for all his gentle languors and sauntered into the tap room anddemanded an Alexander cocktail. As became a son of Wisconsin, Oscar wasfree and friendly. The "Alexander" was a new one on him, he explained,dropping for a moment themes equine.

  Monmouth never made the mistake of offering friendship to a bar-roomstranger unless he knew exactly what he was and how he might fit intothe Monmouth scheme of things. He referred Mr. Lindholm to the guardianof the bottles. It was the size of the Lindholm wad that decided CaptainMonmouth to accept an invitation to a golden woodcock in the grill room.There it was that Lindholm opened his heart. He wanted to follow houndsfrom the back of a horse.

  "Well, why don't you, my good sir?" Monmouth replied languidly. For amoment a light of interest had passed across the dark blue eyes of theex-cavalryman. Trent knew he was interested.

  Trent explained. He said that the following of hounds near New York wasonly possible to one who passed the social examination demanded by thesewho controlled the hunting set.

  "You're quite right," Monmouth admitted, "for the outsider it'simpossible."

  "I'll show 'em," Oscar Lindholm returned chuckling. Then he took theproof of an advertisement from the columns of a great New York daily andpassed it over to Monmouth.

  "Wealthy westerner wants to share home among hunting set of Long Island. Private house and right surroundings essential. References. O. L."

  And that light passed over the Englishman's eyes, and was succeeded by alook of boredom.

  "You don't suppose, do you," he asked, "that the kind of people you wantto know will admit a stranger from Wisconsin into their family?"

  "Why not?" the other cried, indignantly. "Isn't this a free country and
ain't I as good as any other man?"

  "In Wisconsin, undoubtedly: I can't speak for Westbury. By the way, canyou ride?"

  "I could ride your head off," Lindholm bragged.

  "Yes?" said Monmouth softly. "Now that's very interesting. Perhaps wecould arrange a little match somewhere?"

  "Any time at all," Trent returned. He did not for a moment believe hehad a chance against Monmouth but he could afford to lose a little moneyto him. In fact he was anxious for the opportunity.

  "You are staying here?" Monmouth demanded.

  Trent pushed a visiting card toward him. It was newly done. "OscarLindholm, Spartan Athletic Club, Madison, Wisconsin."

  "Yes, I'm staying here," he admitted. "Are you?"

  "My home is in Westbury," Captain Monmouth replied.

  "Then you could get me right in to the set I want?"

  "Impossible," cried the other, rising stiffly to his feet. "One owes toomuch to one's friends."

  "Bull!" said Oscar Lindholm rudely. "You only owe yourself anything. IfI have a lot of money and you want some of it why consult your friends?What have they done for you?"

  "I don't care to discuss it," Captain Monmouth exclaimed. "Good night,Mr. Lindholm." He limped away.

  Assuredly he was no simpleton. He was not sure of this blond lover ofcross-country sport. If Lindholm were genuine in his desire to breakinto the sort of society he aimed at he would come back to the attack.If he were not genuine it were wiser to shake him off.

  As for Trent, he felt reasonably sure things would come his way. Butthere was a certain subtlety about these foreign gentlemen of fortunewhich called for careful treading. Were he once to win his way to theestablishment of Madame de Beaulieu he would be in dangerous company.The man who had just left him was dangerous, he sensed. The Countessalready commanded his respect. Then there was the so-called secretaryand the woman who posed now as a maid. And in the house there might be atreasure trove that would make his wildest expenditures justified.Looked at in a cool and reasonable manner it was a very dangerousexperiment for Anthony Trent to make. He would be one against four. Oneman against a gang of international crooks, all the more deadly becausethey were suave and polished.

  It was while he was breakfasting that Captain Monmouth took a seat nearhim. Trent commanded his waiter to transport his food to Monmouth'stable.

  "What about that horse race?" he demanded.

  "Let me see," the other murmured. "Oh yes, you say you can ride?"

  "I can trim you up in good style," Trent said cheerfully, "any oldtime."

  "What stakes?" Monmouth asked, without eagerness. "What distance? Overthe sticks or on the flat?"

  "Stakes?" Trent said as though not understanding.

  "I never ride or play cards for love," Monmouth told him.

  "That can be arranged later," Trent said, "the main thing is where canwe pull it off? Out west there's a million places but here everything isprivate property."

  Captain Monmouth reflected for a moment.

  "I shall be in town again in three days' time. You'll be here?"

  "Depends what answers I get to my advertisement."

  "Oh yes," Monmouth returned, "they will be very amusing. Very amusingindeed."

  "Why?" Trent demanded.

  "Because the people who will answer will not suit your purpose at all.There may be many who would be glad of help in running a house in thesehard times but they dare not answer an advertisement like yours for fearit might be known. And then again think of the risk of taking an unknowninto the home?"

  "I offer references," Trent reminded him.

  "But my dear sir," Monmouth protested, "what are athletic clubs inMadison to do with those who have the entree to Meadowbrook?"

  "Supposing," Trent said presently, "a family such as I want did get intocommunication with me, how much would they expect?"

  Captain Monmouth looked at him appraisingly. Trent felt certain that ifa figure were named it would be the one he would have to pay for theprivilege of meeting the charming Madame de Beaulieu.

  "One couldn't stay at a decent hotel under two hundred and fifty aweek," the cavalryman returned. "You'd have to pay at least fivehundred."

  "That's a lot," Trent commented.

  "I imagined you'd think that," Monmouth said drily.

  "But I could pay it easy enough," the pseudo-Scandinavian retorted.