An Artist in Crime

"Your cool impudence will not avail you in this instance. These are the stolen jewels."

"Indeed! Do you discover that, as you claim to have detected the thief, simply by looking at them?" Mr. Mitchel assumed that sarcastic tone which had several times irritated the detective.

"Have done with child's play," said Mr. Barnes. "I have a list of the lost jewels, and this case with its contents accurately matches the description. What is more, this list in your possession, is the fac-simile, of the one which I have in my pocket."

"Ah! Now we come to tangible facts and leave the realm of psychology," said Mr. Mitchel leaning forward, with evident interest. "Let me understand this. You have a list of the stolen jewels. That paper is a fac-simile of this one here. The description too tallies with the case and jewels. Is that right?"

"That is quite right. Now can your remarkable inventive faculty fashion a story to meet this emergency?"

"Mr. Barnes, you do me an injustice. I am no romancer. That is the difference between myself and the criminal class, with which you deal. Those poor devils commit a crime and depend upon a sequence of lies to clear themselves. On the contrary I follow this rule: 'Refuse to answer all questions, or else answer truthfully.' Now in this case there are some points, as puzzling to me as to yourself. Them I shall not attempt to explain. One of them is how you can possibly have a duplicate list of my jewels, for these are mine I assure you."

"Here is the list," said the detective, taking it from his pocket and comparing it with the other; "and by heavens," he continued, "the writing is the same."

"That is interesting, let me look," said Mr. Mitchel. With which he arose, walked around to the other side of the table and stood leaning over the detective. "You see, I do not ask you to let me take your paper from you. You might suspect that I would destroy it." Mr. Barnes handed both papers to him without a word. Mr. Mitchel bowed as he took them and returned to his seat. After a moment's careful examination he handed them back saying:

"I agree with you, Mr. Barnes. The writing is the same. What deduction do you draw from that fact?"

"What deduction! Why I found this description of the stolen jewels in the pocket of a dress belonging to Rose Mitchel."

"What? Do you mean to say that she was the woman who was robbed?" The blank amazement upon Mr. Mitchel's face disconcerted Mr. Barnes, for if he did not know this, the mystery seemed deeper than ever.

"Do you mean that you did not know it?" asked Mr. Barnes.

"How should I know it?"

This caused a silence. Both men stopped a moment to consider the situation. At length Mr. Barnes said coldly:

"Mr. Mitchel, I am under the painful necessity of placing you under arrest."

"Upon what charge?"

"Upon the charge of having stolen jewels, and perhaps of having murdered Rose Mitchel."

"Are you in a hurry to take me with you?" asked Mr. Mitchel coolly.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because if not, I should like to ask you one or two questions."

"You may do so."

"First, then, as the robbery was committed on a moving train, will you tell me how you suppose it to have been accomplished, since the passengers were searched?" Mr. Barnes had his own idea on this subject which he did not choose to tell. He thought it well, however, to pretend that he had still another theory. At least he could observe how Mr. Mitchel received it.

"As you say, all were searched. The first was Mr. Thauret. Nothing was found. Let us suppose a case. This man Thauret was in the same carriage with the woman Rose Mitchel. When the train stopped at New Haven, suppose that he took the satchel, left the train and passed it to you through the window of your section, thinking that only his carriage would be searched. After his own examination, he left the train at Stamford. Why may he not have tapped upon your window and have received back the satchel?"

"That would make him my accomplice. You are wrong. I do not know the man at all."

"You admitted having met him when Miss Dora Remsen introduced him to you."

"Once only. At a gaming table. That is why I was displeased to see him in the home of my intended. Passing the robbery then, for despite my denial you may think your explanation correct, and a jury might agree with you, let us come to the murder. Do you suppose a man would make a wager to commit a crime, and then go to the extreme of killing a woman."

"I do not! But having committed the robbery, and then having discovered that this woman, who you say has blackmailed you, had actually taken an apartment in the same building with your affianced, you may have gone there to urge her to leave, and have killed her to save yourself."

"Plainly you do not know me. There is one point in what you say which is interesting. Did I understand that this woman had an apartment in the Thirtieth Street building."

"Certainly, and you knew it."

"You are mistaken. Let us return to the jewels. You think that these are the missing gems. If I prove to the contrary, will you agree not to place me under arrest?"

"With pleasure," said the detective, feeling safe in the idea that what Mr. Mitchel offered to do was an impossibility.

"Thank you. That gives me my freedom, in exchange for which courtesy I promise you all the assistance in my power in finding the murderer." Saying which Mr. Mitchel touched an electric-button and when it was answered sent a message up-stairs asking Mr. Charles to come down. In a few moments, that gentleman appeared.

"Mr. Charles," said Mr. Mitchel, "would it be possible for me to enter these vaults without your knowledge?"

"It would be impossible for any one to enter here without my knowledge," said Mr. Charles.

"You keep my key, do you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have I ever taken it out of this building."

"No, sir."

"Then you think it impossible that I should have been able to have a duplicate key, and to have entered here without your knowledge?"

"An utter impossibility, sir."

"Can you remember when I was here last?"

"Certainly. It was about two weeks ago, when you told me that you were going to Boston."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Charles. That is all." Mr. Charles retired and Mr. Mitchel looked at Mr. Barnes with a smile, saying:

"You see you are wrong again. The jewels were stolen yesterday morning, and I have not been to this place since, and therefore could not have placed them in this box. Are you satisfied?"

"No. If you were able to commit the robbery on the train, whilst I watched your section all night, and to have succeeded in getting the jewels away although you were searched, you are ingenious enough to have found a way of getting here without the knowledge of Mr. Charles. Or, he may be paid to lie for you. I feel too sure that these are the gems, to be so readily convinced to the contrary."

"So you did watch me that night. Well, I am sorry you had so much trouble. I must give you further proof? Very good. Examine these." He took out a package of letters and from them extracted a bill-of-sale, dated five years previous, in which was once more an accurate description of the jewels and case. In addition there was pinned to it a receipt from the New York Custom House for the duties paid, which paper was also dated back. This was evidence which Mr. Barnes could not refute. Plainly this particular set of jewels belonged to Mr. Mitchel.

"That is sufficient. It would be folly to arrest you when you could show those documents to any judge and be released. At the same time, I shall not forget the coincidence of these two lists, and that one of the button."

"By the way, Mr. Barnes, would you mind saying where you found that button?"

"In the room where the woman was murdered."

"No wonder you valued it. I am surprised that you should have presented it to Miss Remsen." There was a twinkle in Mr. Mitchel's eye which annoyed Mr. Barnes, but he made no reply. Mr. Mitchel continued: