An Artist in Crime

"Will you give me the name of the man whom you suspect?"

"No! That would materially weaken our case. We must get the same result without collusion. No, you work alone and work quickly, for I particularly wish the case to be completed by January 1st."

"Why so?"

"It is the day upon which my wager is to be decided, and I shall give a dinner party, at which I anticipate some fun. By the way, don't forget that you won a dinner from me on a wager. Accept an invitation to dine with me January 1st, and if you can then convict our man, you shall be most welcome."

"I shall bend every energy to that end. But now tell me the name of the jeweller from whom the buttons were procured."

Mr. Mitchel then wrote down the name of a Paris firm, also giving their address. Handing the slip of paper to Mr. Barnes, he took another sheet and continued writing.

"Why, Mr. Mitchel," exclaimed Mr. Barnes, "This is the same firm from whom your jewels were bought; those I mean, which are similar to the stolen set. I have already communicated with these people, and they sent me word that they knew nothing."

"Yes, I know. That was by my instruction," saying which Mr. Mitchel smiled, and Mr. Barnes once more discovered that he had been fighting against a man who thought of everything. "You see," continued Mr. Mitchel, "I knew that you saw the name of the jewellers on the bill of sale. What more probable than that you should apply there for information? Now, my one object throughout has been, not to defeat justice, but to have time enough elapse for me to win my wager. Therefore, I immediately sent a cable to these persons, 'Answer nothing signed Barnes till you hear from me.' Rather a long cable despatch, but then I don't mind a few dollars. Of course, my letter to them made them shut their mouths to you. It was very simple. However, I myself have not been able to get satisfactory facts from them, and I think it needs a person actually on the ground to ferret out this thing. I believe you are just the man for the case. This letter will give you their assistance, and here is a check for five hundred dollars for expenses."

Mr. Barnes would have refused, but Mr. Mitchel insisted, that from that time on, Mr. Barnes should consider himself regularly employed on the murder case, "though, of course," said Mr. Mitchel, jocularly, "you are still free to work out the robberies."

The two men shook hands at parting, and one would have said that they were separating after a mutually satisfactory interview.

CHAPTER XVII.

A NEW YEAR'S DINNER PARTY

The 1st of January arrived, and Mr. Mitchel had heard nothing from Mr. Barnes. Inquiry at his office was met by the simple statement, that "The chief is out of town." When he would be back, or where a communication would reach him, could not be learned. A few days before, however, a formal engraved invitation to the dinner party had been mailed to his home address. Mr. Mitchel was annoyed at not having any notification of whether or not the detective would be present. However, he was compelled to go ahead, and depend upon the slight chance that at the last moment he would appear upon the scene. He hoped that this would occur, as otherwise, his scheme for the evening would be incomplete.

The dinner was to be served at ten o'clock that night at Delmonico's, where a private room had been engaged. It lacked ten minutes of the hour for sitting down, and all the guests had arrived, except Mr. Barnes. These were: Mr. Van Rawlston, Mr. Randolph, Mr. Fisher, Mr. Neuilly, who had decided to spend the winter in New York, Mr. Thauret, and several other gentlemen.

It lacked barely half a minute of ten when Mr. Barnes was announced, and entered in handsome evening dress. Mr. Mitchel's face wore a look of triumph as he saw him, and he hurried forward to receive him. Every one present understood why the detective was invited, for it was by this time well known that a wager was to be decided at twelve o'clock. After the exchange of greetings, Mr. Mitchel gave the waiters the order to open the doors of the dining-room, and in the moment's interval managed to get a word with the detective.

"Tell me quickly, have you succeeded?"

"Yes, thoroughly."

"Good! Write the man's name on a card, and I will give you one upon which I have written the name of my man."

Mr. Barnes did so. Then they exchanged cards, glanced at them, and grasped each other's hands significantly. The cards bore the same name. With the others they went into the dining-room. Mr. Thauret found himself seated next to Mr. Barnes, whilst on the other side of the detective sat Mr. Fisher.

It need scarcely be said that the dinner was enjoyable and enjoyed, though it must be admitted that all awaited anxiously the hour of twelve. It will be as well perhaps, therefore, to come immediately to the dénouement, for which all were assembled. The last course had been served, and coffee and nuts were on the table, when the clock chimed the hour for which all were anxious. Promptly at the first stroke Mr. Mitchel arose. There was a silence till twelve was tolled and then he began:

"Gentlemen, you have all kindly accepted my invitation to see me win a rash wager made thirteen months ago. It is odd, perhaps, that I should have won – for I announce that I have won – when we remember that the time was thirteen months, which number, as we all know, superstitious persons are inclined to connect with misfortune. To show, however, that I do not harbor such childish ideas, I purposely made the time of that length, and, to-night, at the decisive moment, we are thirteen." Here he paused a moment, and one might have noticed that several persons quickly counted those present to test the fact. Continuing, he said: "The superstition in connection with thirteen at dinner is a well-defined one, and the supposition is that one of the number will die within the year. I offer as a toast, therefore, 'Long life to all present – who deserve it.'" The last clause after a slight hesitation, made a decided effect. However, the toast was drunk in silence.

"As some present may not entirely understand what my wager was, I must explain that thirteen months ago to-night I was in a Pullman sleeper with my friend, Mr. Randolph. Mr. Barnes here had just accomplished a neat capture of the criminal Pettingill, who has since been convicted. The papers were praising him, and Mr. Randolph did so to me in glowing terms. I ventured the assertion that detectives run down their prey largely because the criminal class lack intelligence sufficient to compete with their more skilled adversaries. I offered to wager that I could commit a crime within a month and not be detected within a year thereafter. The amount was to be a thousand dollars, and was accepted by Mr. Randolph. I stipulated for conviction, though had I been arrested within the stated period and convicted afterwards, I should have considered that I had lost the wager. That is why I awaited the arrival of Mr. Barnes so anxiously. I had not seen him for some time, and it was possible that at the last moment he might be prepared to arrest me upon evidence that would later convict me. However, gentlemen, I have escaped both arrest and conviction, yet I committed the crime as wagered."

"You must prove that," said Mr. Randolph; "and, according to our agreement, it must have been a crime which was much talked about!"

"Quite right, my friend, but I shall be able to demonstrate all that. By a curious coincidence a robbery was committed on the very night and upon the same train upon which we made our wager, whilst another robbery was committed almost at the moment when the stipulated month expired. Thus two crimes transpired within the time allowed me, and with both of these my name has been connected in the mind of the detective, Mr. Barnes. Now, that you all may better understand the circumstances, I must go to what I might call the beginning. Years ago certain circumstances in my earlier life gave me an intimate acquaintance with the methods used by detectives, and I then acquired the idea which led me into this undertaking, – that where the criminal has succeeded in escaping actual watching during the commission of his crime, so that there is no witness to the act, the detective is almost powerless until he learns the object for which the crime was undertaken. Am I not right, Mr. Barnes?"

"To know the object of a crime, of course, is a great assistance, but much would depend upon the attendant circumstances."

"True. The object then is important. From this point I reached the conclusion that if a man approached another, totally unknown to him, at night in a lonely neighborhood, struck him on the head, killing him, and then, unseen, reached his own home, it would rest entirely with himself whether or not he would ever be caught. I wanted a chance to try this experiment; that is, to commit a crime solely to test the ability of the detectives to discover me afterwards. The difficulty was that a gentleman of honor would scarcely wish to engage in such a reprehensible piece of business. For years, therefore, I could think of no way to have my wish, till the merest chance threw the opportunity within my grasp. Waiter, fill up the glasses."

He paused a moment while this was being done. The men went around with champagne, and when Mr. Thauret was reached he asked to have his Burgundy glass filled also. Mr. Mitchel was again speaking when the waiter returned with the red wine, and did as requested. Mr. Barnes also presented his glass for the same liquor, saying in an undertone to Mr. Thauret, "I cannot take too much champagne."

"One of my hobbies," continued Mr. Mitchel, "as you all know, is the collection of jewels. A few years ago I heard that a magnificent set was offered for sale. A rich East Indian nobleman, so the story goes, had procured the gems as a present to his wife. They were of the choicest quality, and of each exactly two, matched precisely in size, cutting, and coloration. In time he had two daughters, twins, the mother dying at their birth. Eventually these girls grew up and were married, the ceremony being a double wedding. The father took the set of jewels and divided them, giving to each girl, one of each. This greatly diminished their value, for the matching of gems adds to their price. Reverses of fortune tempted one of these women to offer her jewels for sale. They were taken to a Paris dealer, who chanced to be a man through whom I had made many purchases. He undertook not only to dispose of the gems, but to reproduce them with a high order of imitation, so that the woman retained the original settings and continued to wear what her friends supposed to be the genuine gems. I bought the unset stones. Subsequently her sister, learning the secret, and seeing that there was a way by which the jewelry could be retained, whilst the jewels themselves could be turned into money, engaged the same dealer to serve her in a similar way. Of course, I was doubly anxious to obtain this second lot, for by doing so I enhanced the values of those which I had already. I therefore bought them also."

He paused a moment, to allow the company to recover from the surprise at learning that the stolen jewels were his.

"This lot was sent to me through the Boston custom-house. I instructed the dealer to do this, because I had found that goods can be received with less delay in Boston than in New York. Being notified by my broker there that they were ready for delivery, I went to Boston and obtained them. I placed the wallet in a peculiar satchel which had been made to order for me, and carried it to my room at the Hotel Vendome. Later in the day, I met Mr. Randolph, and went with him to a theatre. He was to return to New York by the midnight express, and I went with him to the depot. As we stood awaiting our turn to purchase tickets, you may imagine my utter astonishment to see a woman pass and board the train, having my satchel in her hand. There could be no mistake whatever, because the satchel was peculiar, both in shape and color. Of course I saw at once I had been robbed. It was useless to go back to my hotel, for that would be time wasted. If by any miracle there were two such satchels, mine was safe in the hotel. I therefore astonished Mr. Randolph by offering to accompany him, and I did so, occupying the same section with him. Whilst I was thinking what action I should pursue, knowing that once the train started my thief would be safe as far as New Haven, Mr. Randolph began to praise Mr. Barnes, and like a flash it came to me that this was my chance. I would rob the thief of my own property. Thus if caught I could not be imprisoned, whilst if not I would not only win my wager, but I would have the excitement and the satisfaction for which I had wished. One thing threatened to upset my plans. Mr. Barnes by an odd chance came aboard the same coach, was given the section next to ours, and overheard our conversation. This of course I could not have counted upon."

"You did take it into your account though," interrupted Mr. Barnes.

"You mean that I refused to tell Mr. Randolph what I meant to do, saying that I might be overheard, and that I might even be talking for the benefit of a listening detective? True, but I had no idea that this was so. It was merely extreme precaution, and only shows that we can never be too cautious in an endeavor to keep a secret. Later, however, I heard you get up, and peeping through the curtains, I saw you sitting up, or rather lying in a berth opposite, with the curtains drawn. I at once supposed that you must be a detective. My companion was soon asleep, but with a hundred thousand dollars worth of jewels in the balance, I could not sleep. I was busy wondering what I should do. I think though that I must have dozed, for I know that I was startled to discover suddenly that we were not moving. I looked out of our section window – fortunately I was next to it – and found that we had run into the depot at New Haven. Like a flash it came to me that the thief might leave the train here. I was about to get up, when to my astonishment I noticed a man sneaking along by the side of the train. I was on the side opposite to that from which the passengers would alight, and the suspicious actions of the man forced me to watch him. He passed so close to me that I could have touched him had my window been open, and as he did so the light of an electric lamp disclosed the fact that he had my satchel. The thief had been robbed already. The man approached a coal-bin, and stooping, shoved the satchel behind it. Then he returned to the train and came aboard. I said to myself 'That fellow is an artist. He will remain on board till the robbery is discovered, if necessary, and even allow himself to be searched. Then he will quietly come back and get the satchel and jewels.' Thus it was my cue to act quickly. But if I left the train I knew that the detective would see me. I therefore gently raised the sash, and deftly let myself to the ground out of the window. I quickly took the satchel, ran to the end of the depot, and found a place where I could shove it far under the platform. Then I climbed back into the berth, and after that I assure you I slept very well."

The company applauded this description of how the robbery had been committed, and Mr. Mitchel bowed.

"Wait, my friends, we are not through yet. The woman who had robbed me had the supreme audacity to report her loss, or perhaps we should say, that she was so angry that she became desperate. I have reason to believe that she had an accomplice in this man, and that suspecting him of robbing her, she would have been willing to give testimony against him if caught, and trust to escape herself, by turning State's evidence. When we were running in to New York, Mr. Barnes directed that all should be searched. I enjoyed that, I assure you. It seemed so amusing to look in New York for what I knew was in New Haven. At the same time I was anxious to get back to New Haven as quickly as possible. With that end in view I invited Mr. Barnes to breakfast with me. I tried to make it appear that I was anxious to have him agree to be the only detective on my track, but in reality I wished to discover whether he would be able at once to place a spy at my heels; that is, whether he had a man at the Grand Central already. This I found was the case. I therefore was obliged to go to my hotel as though having no desire to leave town again. Then, subsequently, I eluded this man by the convenient bridges across the Elevated railroad. I went to New Haven, found the satchel, and then deposited it at a hotel nearby for safe keeping. My object in this was plain. I knew that the robbery would get into the newspapers, and that by behaving suspiciously at the hotel, – of course I was disguised, – attention would be attracted there. This did happen, and the result was that the jewels were given into the custody of the police authorities, the very safest place for them, so far as I was concerned. Gentlemen, that is the story of the crime which I committed. I have only to show my receipt from the Boston custom-house, and my bill-of-sale from the Paris dealer to be able to recover my property. Are you satisfied, Mr. Randolph?"

"Entirely. You have won fairly, and I have a check for the amount with me, which you must accept with my congratulations upon your success."

"I thank you very much," said Mr. Mitchel, taking the check; "I take this because I have immediate use for it, as you will learn directly. Now I must tell you the true story of the other robbery."

At this all were very much astonished. Mr. Thauret appeared a trifle nervous. He placed one hand over the top of his claret glass, and let it rest there a moment, after first having taken a sip from it.

"You all recall the fact that I was sick in Philadelphia," continued Mr. Mitchel, "at the time of the Ali Baba festival. I flatter myself that that was the most artistic thing that I have done throughout this whole affair. Any one seeing me would have been satisfied that I was truly ill, yet, in point of fact, my cough was brought on by drugs administered to me by my physician at my express desire, and for purposes which I had explained to him. I guessed that I had been followed to Philadelphia, and took care that I should not be too closely watched, as Mr. Barnes knows. Yet I expected that after the affair, Mr. Barnes himself would come to Philadelphia to see me, and my artificially-produced illness was to baffle him. But I am anticipating events. After the train robbery the woman was murdered. By what seemed an odd chance she was in the same house where my wife then lived. I knew that I had been followed from the theatre to that house on the night of the murder. I knew that other circumstances pointed strongly to my guilt. But I had the advantage over the detective, for I knew that the man who had stolen the jewels from the woman, not finding them when he returned to New Haven, must have been furious. Judging the woman by himself, he would suppose that at least it was possible that she had taken them from the satchel herself. Then on that slim chance might he not have returned to the woman, and, admitting the theft of the satchel, have endeavored to make her confess that she still had the jewels? Failing in this, might he not either in a fit of anger or to prevent her from 'peaching,' as they call it, have cut her throat?"

"You are wrong there, Mr. Mitchel," said the detective. "The woman was killed whilst she slept. There was no struggle."

"Even so, we can imagine the sneak going into the house and killing her that he might search for the gems undisturbed, and also to rid himself of a companion for whom he no longer had any need. At least, that was the view that I took of it, and, more than that, I felt convinced that I knew the man."

At this moment, Mr. Thauret nervously reached forth his hand towards his glass of wine, but before he could get it Mr. Barnes had taken it up and drained it to the bottom. Mr. Thauret seemed livid with wrath, and a dramatic incident occurred, unobserved by the rest of the company. Mr. Thauret turned towards Mr. Barnes and seemed on the point of making a demonstration, when that gentleman just tipped back his chair slightly, and meaningly exposed to the view of his neighbor the gleaming barrel of a revolver, which he held in his hand below the table. This only occupied a moment, and immediately afterwards both men seemed, like the others, simply interested listeners to the narrative.

"When I say that I thought that I knew the man," continued Mr. Mitchel, "I make a statement which it may interest you to have me explain. In the first place, I saw the fellow who hid the satchel at the New Haven depot. Still I obtained but a momentary glimpse of his face, and would not have been sure of identifying him. I will call your attention now to the fact that very slight incidents sometimes lead the mind into a suspicion, which, followed up, may elucidate a mystery. Prior to the train robbery I had met a man at my club one night, or rather I had seen him playing a card game, and I conceived the notion that the fellow was cheating. Within a few days of the robbery I met this man again, on which occasion Mr. Barnes was present, and an interesting conversation occurred. I was standing aside, pretending to be otherwise engaged, but really puzzling over the face of this man, which now seemed to me strikingly familiar. Of course I had seen him at the club, yet despite me, there was an intuitive feeling that I had seen him elsewhere also. In a moment I heard him admit that he had been aboard of the train on the night of the robbery, and that he had been the first one searched. Awhile later he offered to wager Mr. Barnes that various theories which had been advanced as to the thief's method of secreting the jewels, were all erroneous. This one remark satisfied me that the thief stood before me. I had not then heard of the murder. Now it must be remembered that I was ensnared in the meshes of circumstantial evidence myself, so that, besides any duty that I might owe to society, it became of vital importance to my own safety that I should be in a position to prove this man guilty. I formed a rather bold plan. I made a friend of the fellow. I invited him to my room one night, and then accused him of having cheated at the card game. He at first assumed a threatening attitude, but I retained my composure, and perhaps startled him by proposing to form a partnership by which we could fleece the rich club men. I hinted to him that I really possessed less money than I am credited with, and that what I did have I had taken at the tables on the Continent. He then admitted that he had a 'system,' and from that time we posed as good friends, though I do not think he ever fully trusted me. I learned from him that his partner in the game where I caught him cheating was entirely innocent, and made him promise not to play with him again, for I had discovered that the detectives had been told of this game, and therefore knew that they would be watching both men when playing cards. I preferred to be the partner myself upon such occasions. Having somewhat won the fellow's confidence, I was ready for my great scheme in baffling the detective so that I might win my wager, and at the same time entrap my suspect. I had conceived the Ali Baba festival. I showed Mr. Barnes one day the ruby which I afterwards presented to my wife. At the same time I told him, that if he should come to the conclusion that I was innocent of the train robbery, he might as well remember that I would still have to commit the crime as agreed upon. Then I arranged that the festival should occur on New Year's night, the very day on which my month would expire. I knew that all this would lead the detective to believe that I meant to rob my fiancée, a crime for which I might readily have escaped punishment, with her assistance. There he misjudged me. I would not for treble the sum have had her name mixed up in such a transaction. She knew absolutely nothing of my intentions, though being at that time in ignorance of the details of the train robbery, I left her mind in a condition not to offer resistance to the thief, who she might suppose to be myself. Then, after laying my trap, at the last moment, I baited it by asking my fiancée to wear the ruby pin in her hair. I went to Philadelphia, and feigned sickness. Then I eluded the spy and came on myself. Mr. Barnes I supposed would be present, and I had arranged so that if so, he would necessarily be in one of the dominos of the forty thieves. I had invited my suspect to assume the role of Ali Baba, but he shrewdly persuaded some one else to take the costume, himself donning one of the Forty Thieves' dresses. This compelled me to go around speaking to every one so disguised, and to my satisfaction, by their voices, I discovered my man and also Mr. Barnes. In the final tableau, Mr. Barnes, who evidently was watching Ali Baba, attempted to get near him, and by chance was immediately behind my man. Fearing that he would interfere with my plans, I fell in just behind him. My design was to tempt the fellow to steal the ruby, which, if he did, would satisfy at least myself that my suspicions were correct. It was, perhaps, a mad scheme, but it succeeded. I had so arranged that every one should pass the Sultan and make obeisance. In doing this, as my fiancée was seated on the floor, the ruby in her hair would be just at hand, and one who knew its high value could easily take it. I fully expected my man to do this, and I saw him gently withdraw it. Immediately Mr. Barnes stepped forward to seize him, but I held the detective from behind, then threw him into the advancing crowd, and, in the confusion, escaped from the house."

Mr. Mitchel paused, and silence prevailed. All felt, rather than knew, that a tragedy might be at hand. Mr. Thauret however, in a moment said:

"Are you not going to tell us the name of this sneak thief?"

"No," quickly responded Mr. Mitchel. "But you are wrong to call my suspect a sneak thief. If crime were a recognized business, as gambling in Wall Street is now considered, this man would be counted 'a bold operator.' I confess that I admire him for his courage. But it would scarcely do for me to mention his name, when I am not in the position to prove that he is the guilty man."

"I thought you said that you saw him steal the ruby?" said Mr. Thauret.

"I did, but as I myself had been suspected of that, my unsupported word would be inadequate. Let me tell you what I have done in the matter since. The most important step for me, perhaps, was to prevent the sale of the gem. This was not difficult, as it is known the world over. I warned all dealers, and let my man know that I had done so. Next, I wished to delay a dénouement until to-night, the time when my wager with Mr. Randolph would be settled. I soon discovered that my suspect would not be averse to a marriage with a rich American girl. He questioned me adroitly as to the fortune which would come to my little sister-in-law, and I replied in such a way that I knew he would bend his energies in that direction. Then I did that, which, perhaps, I should not have done, but I felt myself master of the situation and able to control events. I made a wager with Dora that she would not remain unengaged until to-night, and I stipulated that should she have offers she should neither accept nor reject a suitor. I also told her, though I declined to fully explain how, that she would materially assist me in winning my wager."

This explains what Dora meant when she asked Mr. Randolph if money would count with him against her love. When she accepted the wager with Mr. Mitchel she had been feeling resentfully towards Mr. Randolph, who, as long as he suspected his friend of the graver crimes, hesitated to become connected with him by marriage. This made him less attentive to Dora, so that she had not thought of him as a suitor when making the bet. When he declared himself she recognized her predicament and was correspondingly troubled, yet determined to win, and so acted as related.

By this time, though Mr. Mitchel had not mentioned the name of the criminal, several present knew to whom he was alluding. Mr. Randolph said impetuously:

"Then that explains – " here he stopped, confused.