The Mystery of M. Felix

"We could fill pages with letters of this description, but the three we have given are a sufficient indication of the interest excited by the incident. Among all these letters there was only one which offered any suggestion likely to be of practical value, and that was the letter we have printed, signed 'A LONELY WIDOW.' Her interesting hypothesis that M. Felix was her long lost husband was, of course, ridiculous, but she made mention of two subjects worthy of consideration. The first was did M. Felix make a will; the second, was there any portrait of him extant. If a will were in existence, it would probably be in the care of a firm of lawyers who could have no good reason for keeping it in the background. We set to work at once upon this trail, but it led to nothing. No lawyers were found in possession of such a document, and it was not forthcoming from other quarters. Nor were we more successful with respect to a portrait of M. Felix. Mrs. Middlemore had never seen one, and a private search through his rooms was futile. Indeed, it is a further proof of the strange secrecy in which M. Felix's life was conducted that not a document or written paper of any description was discovered in his apartments, not even a letter. Some important statements upon this head will be presented further on.

"In pursuance of the advice our reporter gave Mrs. Middlemore, she communicated to the police the fact of the disappearance of the body of M. Felix. There the matter rested, and would have been likely to rest but for the initiatory steps we had already taken to throw a light upon the mystery. It is all very well to say that nobody's business is everybody's business; it is not the case. People talked and wrote letters, but we acted. It must be admitted that the police were not in a position to move actively in the affair. No definite charge had been offered for their investigation; no person was accused of a crime; it had not even been proved that a crime had been committed. Conjecture was theirs, and that was all. The law cannot move, cannot act upon conjecture; facts of a crime, or even of a supposed crime, are necessary before the administration of justice can be called upon to adjudicate. Suggestions were thrown out as to the advisability of offering a reward for the discovery of the body, but who was to offer it? Even in the case of a deliberate and ascertained murder where the criminal is at large, the Government is notoriously slow in issuing such a proclamation, and the full weight of public opinion has frequently failed in inducing the authorities to offer a reward. It was not, therefore, to be expected that they would do so in this instance. Meanwhile there was one feature in the case which we desire to emphasize, and of which we never lost sight. Between the hours of twelve and one o'clock on the night of the 16th-17th January a man with a red scarf round his neck was seen to issue from the house in Gerard Street, in which M. Felix resided. The man still remained undiscovered. It matters not who saw him, whether Mrs. Middlemore, or Constables Wigg or Nightingale, or all three together. The fact seemed to be established that he had been in the house for some purpose, and had been seen to issue from it.

"Where was that man, and what motive had he for not coming forward?"

CHAPTER XII.

THE REPORTER OF THE "EVENING MOON" MAKES A DISCOVERY

"On the evening of the 19th our reporter paid a visit to Mrs. Middlemore. Sophy opened the street door for him.

"'Hallo, old 'un,' said the girl, 'it's you, is it?'

"'Yes, Sophy,' said our reporter, 'here I am again.'

"'As large as life,' remarked Sophy, vivaciously, 'and twice as-no, I won't say that; you ain't arf a bad sort. What's yer little game this time, old 'un?'

"'Is Mrs. Middlemore in?' asked our reporter.

"'Yes, aunt's at 'ome. Do you want to see 'er?'

"'That's what I've come for, Sophy.'

"'Who's that, Sophy?' cried Mrs. Middlemore, from the bottom of the basement stairs.

"'It's the old 'un, aunt,' screamed Sophy.

"'Don't be absurd,' said our reporter, pinching Sophy's cheek. 'It is I, Mrs. Middlemore, the reporter from the Evening Moon.'

"'Come down, sir,' cried Mrs. Middlemore, 'if come you must. Don't stop talking to that 'uzzy.'

"Sophy put her tongue in her cheek, and whispering, 'Ain't she a treat?' preceded our reporter to the kitchen.

"'Good-evening, Mrs. Middlemore,' said our reporter.

"'Good-evening, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, 'Sophy, 'ave you shut the street door tight?'

"'As tight as a drum,' replied Sophy.

"'Mrs. Middlemore sank into a chair with a heavy sigh, and our reporter took a seat opposite her. There was a jug of beer on the table.

"'Will you 'ave a glass, sir?' asked Mrs. Middlemore, hospitably.

"'No, thank you; I have just dined, and I thought I would come and have a chat with you in a general way.'

"'Thank 'eaven it's about nothing particular,' said Mrs. Middlemore, in a tone of manifest relief.

"'It may lead to something particular,' observed our reporter, genially. 'We're only on the threshold as yet.'

"'Stop a bit, sir, please. Sophy!'

"'Yes, aunty dear,' responded the girl, in a tone of simulated sweetness.

"'If I let you go out for a walk, will you come back in arf an hour?'

"Sophy hesitated. Between her longing for a run in the streets and her longing to hear what our reporter had to say, she felt herself in a difficulty.

"'Well, now,' exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore, sharply.

"'Oh, aunty dear,' said Sophy, pressing the bosom of her frock, and pretending to be greatly startled at her aunt's sharp voice, you send my 'eart into my mouth.'

"'Will you promise not to stop out longer than an hour?'

"Mrs. Middlemore's anxiety to get rid of her decided the girl. For once she would forego the temptations of the streets.

"'Don't want to go out,' she said, shortly.

"'But you've got to go,' said Mrs. Middlemore, resenting this opposition to her authority, 'or I'll bundle you out for good, neck and crop. Promise, like a good girl.'

"'Shan't promise,' said Sophy, rebelliously.

"'Oh, dear, oh, dear,' moaned Mrs. Middlemore. 'What am I to do with her? And after all the nice things you said of her this morning, sir?'

"'Did you say nice things of me?' asked Sophy, of our reporter.

"'I did, Sophy,' he replied, 'and I'm sure you will do as your aunt tells you.'

"'That settles it. I'll go. 'Ow long for, aunty?'

"'An hour. Not a minute more.'

"'I say'-to our reporter-'you might lend us yer watch. Then I shouldn't make any mistake.'

"'Get along with you,' said our reporter, laughing. 'The shops are full of clocks.'

"'Thank yer for nothing,' said Sophy, proceeding to array herself. Spitting on the palm of her hand, she made a pretence of smoothing her hair. Then she looked at herself in a piece of looking-glass that was hanging on the wall, and turned her head this way and that, smirking most comically. Then she shook out her skirts, and looked over her shoulder to see that they hung becomingly. Then she tied a piece of string round one yawning boot. Then she put on her head something in straw that once might have been called a hat, but which had long since forfeited all claims to respectability. Then she fished out a poor little scarf, about six inches square, and pinned it round her shoulders with a coquettishness not devoid of grace. Her toilette completed, she asked-

"'Will I do?'

"'Very nicely, Sophy,' said our reporter. But although he spoke gayly he was stirred by a certain pity for this little waif, who was so conspicuously animated by a spirit to make the best of things-a spirit which might with advantage be emulated by her betters-and who made a joke even of her poverty and rags.

"'Much obliged,' said Sophy. 'Give us a kiss, aunty. Now I'm off.'

"And off she was, but not without saluting our reporter with an elaborate courtesy.

"Mrs. Middlemore waited till she heard the street-door slam, and then said,

"'Did you ever see the likes of her?'

"'I declare to you, my dear madam,' said our reporter, 'that the more I see of Sophy the more I like her. What have the police done? Anything?'

"'Nothing, sir. I went and told 'em what 'ad 'appened, and two policemen came and looked at the bed, looked under it, looked in every room as you said they would, looked at me, and went away.'

"'And they have not been here again?'

"'No, sir.'

"'Mrs. Middlemore, may I have another peep in M. Felix's rooms?'

"'Certainly, sir.'

"They went up together, Mrs. Middlemore breathing heavily, perfuming the air with a flavor of beer. There was an escritoire in the sitting-room, and our reporter examined it.

"'I'll tell you what I'm looking for,' he said. 'I see pens, ink, and paper, denoting that M. Felix was occasionally in the habit of using them, but there is not a scrap of paper about with his writing on it. There is not even a monogram on the note paper. If we could find something, it might furnish a clue. He received letters, I suppose?'

"'Oh, yes, sir.'

"'And the presumption is that he answered them. Did you ever post any of his letters?'

"'Never once, sir.'

"'Here is a waste-paper basket; there must have been in it, at odd times, scraps of the letters he received and spoilt sheets of his own. Has your dust bin been emptied this week?'

"'No, sir, but you wouldn't find anything of Mr. Felix's in it. It was one of his orders that whatever was in the waste-paper basket should be burnt here in his own fireplace. I used to sweep this room in the morning when he was in bed, and he always said I did my work so quietly that he was never disturbed by any noise.'

"'Look round the room, Mrs. Middlemore, and see if you miss anything. You would be pretty well acquainted with everything in it. What is the meaning of that gasp? You do miss something?'

"'There was another desk, sir, and I don't see it.'

"'What kind of desk?'

"'A small one, sir, that used to smell quite nice.'

"'Ah, made of cedar wood, no doubt. Did M. Felix keep his papers in this desk?'

"'Some of his papers, sir.'

"'How do you know that?'

"'I've come into the room when he's rung for me, and saw the desk open.'

"'Ocular proof, Mrs. Middlemore.'

"'What sort's that, sir?'

"'Visible to the eye-your eye, my dear madam.'

"'Yes, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, dubiously.

"'Now, Mrs. Middlemore, can you inform me whether those papers you saw in the missing desk were private papers?'

"'It ain't possible for me to say, sir.'

"'Neither can you say, I suppose, whether M. Felix set any particular store upon them?'

"'Well, sir, now you bring me to it, things come to my mind.'

"'Exactly.'

"'Whenever I come into the room,' said Mrs. Middlemore, 'and the desk was open, Mr. Felix used to shut it up quick.'

"'Lest you should see them too closely?'

"'I'm sure I shouldn't 'ave made no use of 'em; least of all, bad use.'

"'That is not the point. He closed the desk quickly when another person was by, with an evident wish to keep all possible knowledge of them to himself.'

"'It looks like that. You do push a thing close.'

"Our reporter accepted this as a compliment, and continued:

"'That appears to establish the fact that this desk-which probably was brought from India, Mrs. Middlemore-contained M. Felix's private papers?'

"'It do, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, admiringly.

"'And, therefore, papers of importance. The desk was inlaid with silver, Mrs. Middlemore.'

"'Lor', sir!' exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore, doubtless regarding our reporter as a man who dealt in enchantments. 'How did you find out that?'

"'It was, was it not?'

"'Yes, sir, it was.'

"'When M. Felix had visitors, was this desk ever allowed to lie carelessly about?'

"'No, sir. At them times he used to keep it in 'is bedroom, on a little table by the side of 'is bed.'

"'Let us look through the bedroom, and see if it is there.'

"They searched the bedroom thoroughly, without finding it.

"'It is undoubtedly gone,' said our reporter.

"'It do look like it, sir.'

"'Mrs. Middlemore, when M. Felix was found dead in his chair, was this desk in either of the rooms?'

"'I didn't see it, sir.'

"'You could not swear it was not here?'

"'I shouldn't like to, sir.'

"'The probability, however, is that it had gone when the door was forced open?'

"'Yes, sir.'

"'The police could scarcely take it away without your knowledge?'

"'They'd 'ave been clever to do it.'

"'Had they done so, they would certainly have been exceeding their duties. Now, do not answer the questions I put to you too quickly. Were you in these rooms on the day before M. Felix's death?'

"'I were, sir.'

"'Was the desk here then?'

"'It were; I can swear to that.'

"'You saw it with your own eyes?'

"'I couldn't see it with no others,' replied Mrs. Middlemore, smirking, in approval of her small wit.

"'Of course, you could not. Is there any particular reason why you are so positive of this?'

"'Well, sir, Mr. Felix wanted something, and rung for me; and when I come into the room he was sitting at this table with the desk open before him, and all the papers scattered about.'

"'That fixes it. Did he seem to be searching for, or examining with more than usual interest, any special document?'

"'He seemed flustered and excited, sir. I can't say no more than that.'

"'He was not generally of an excitable temperament?'

"'Not at all. He was easy going, and always with a pleasant word.'

"'A model man. I observe that you call him Mr. and not Monsieur?'

"'I can't bring myself to foreign languages, sir. My tongue gits into a knot.'

"'He was a foreigner, I suppose?'

"'I suppose so, sir. I ain't the best of judges.'

"'A Frenchman?'

"'So I thought, sir.'

"'Or an Italian?'

"'Perhaps, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, wavering.

"'Or a Spaniard?'

"'Perhaps, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, growing more undecided.

"'Or a Russian?'

"'How can I say, sir?' said Mrs. Middlemore, now quite at sea as to M. Felix's nationality.

"'He spoke the English language well?'

"'As well as me, sir.'

"'So that, after all, he might have been an Englishman?'

"'He might,' said Mrs. Middlemore, declining to commit herself, 'and he mightn't.'

"Our reporter did not press the point, as to which Mrs. Middlemore had evidently disclosed all she knew.

"'If we could find the missing desk, Mrs. Middlemore, it might throw a light upon the mystery.'

"Again did Mrs. Middlemore decline to commit herself; again did she answer, 'It might, and it mightn't, sir.'

"'I presume there was nothing in the desk that attracted your attention besides the papers?'

"'Only one thing, sir-a curious sort of knife.'

"'A paper knife, most likely.'

"'It was more like a dagger,' said Mrs. Middlemore. 'It 'ad a 'andle like a twisted snake, with a' open mouth and a colored stone in its eye. It 'ad a sharp pint, too?'

"'How did you become aware of that? Did you ever try it?'

"'Not me, sir; but once I come in when Mr. Felix 'ad it in 'is 'and, playing with it, and all at once he dropped it like a 'ot pertater. He pricked 'isself with it, and there was blood on 'is 'and.'

"'You have furnished me with a valuable piece of evidence, Mrs. Middlemore. Papers are easily burnt, and a desk broken up and destroyed. It would not be so easy to get rid of that knife, which, from your description, must be a foreign dagger, and the identification of which would be a simple matter. For instance, you could swear to it, and so could I, who have never seen it.'

"'Anybody could swear to it, sir; it couldn't be mistook.'

"'Did M. Felix keep this dagger always in his desk?'

"'I should say he did, sir. I never saw it laying about loose, and never saw it at all unless the desk was open.'

"'Did you see it on the last occasion you saw the desk open, a few hours before M. Felix's death?'

"'Yes, sir, it was among 'is papers.'

"'Have you any suspicion, Mrs. Middlemore, who at this present moment has possession of the desk and the dagger?'

"'Not the least, sir. 'Ave you?'

"'I have. A suspicion amounting to a certainty. Have you forgotten the man with a red handkerchief round his neck who escaped from the house on the night of the eventful discovery?'

"'I'm not likely to forget 'im,' said Mrs. Middlemore, and then added, in an excited tone, 'do you think it was 'im as took it?'

"'Him, and no other. Now we arrive at the motive of his visit; it was robbery. Not a vulgar robbery such as an ordinary thief would have committed, but one of a particular nature, and committed with a knowledge that M. Felix's Indian desk contained a secret or secrets of value, which no doubt he could turn to good account. We are getting on, Mrs. Middlemore, we are getting on,' said our reporter, rubbing his hands in satisfaction. 'In these affairs there is nothing like patience.'

"'You're as good as a detective, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, 'and you've got the patience of Job. You won't mind my saying that I've thought lots of your questions foolish, and only put for the sake of saying something. I don't think so now, sir.'

"'Thank you for the compliment. I assure you I have not asked you one idle question. Recall to mind whether the man with the red handkerchief round his neck carried anything away with him that looked like a desk as he escaped from the house.'

"'I don't believe, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, with evident reluctance, 'as that will ever be known.'

"'Oh, yes, it will. Answer my question.'

"'I didn't notice nothing,' replied Mrs. Middlemore.

"We pause a moment here to observe that it was these reserved replies, when any question relating to this man was asked, as well as the conflicting testimony of the constables Wigg and Nightingale, that led us to the conclusion, already recorded, that the precise truth was not revealed as to which one of the three witnesses actually saw the man. Having committed themselves to a certain statement for the purpose of exonerating the constables from official blame, they could not afterward contradict themselves, because such a contradiction would have thrown grave doubt upon the whole of their evidence.

"'He could not,' said our reporter, 'very well have carried away an article of this description without its being noticed by any one who saw him.'

"'Ain't it excusable, sir,' observed Mrs. Middlemore, nervously, 'when you think of the storm and the confusion we was in?'

"'Well, perhaps, but it is a pity we cannot obtain definite information on the point. Isn't that a knock at the street door?'

"'Yes, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, making no attempt to move from the room.

"'You had better go down and see who it is. I will remain here. There is really nothing to be frightened at. It might be Sophy come back.'

"At this suggestion Mrs. Middlemore left the room, and went to the street door. Being alone, our reporter looked about him, and almost immediately made an important discovery. Against the wall, on the right hand side of the door as he entered, stood a massive sideboard, a very handsome piece of furniture. The lower part of this sideboard was close against the waistcoat, above which there was a space between the back of the sideboard and the wall of about an inch in width. Happening to glance at the back of the sideboard, the light of the candle which our reporter held in his hand fell upon something bright. Stooping, he drew the object out, and was excited to find it was the identical dagger about which he and Mrs. Middlemore had been conversing. There could not be the possibility of a mistake. Its handle, as Mrs. Middlemore had described, resembled a twisted snake; the mouth was open, and in its head was a ruby to represent an eye. A dangerous instrument, with a very sharp point, the metal of which it was composed being bright steel. But it was not the peculiar shape of the handle, nor the bright steel of the blade, nor the ruby eye, which excited our reporter. It was the fact that there was rust upon the blade, and that this rust was caused by blood, of which there were light stains plainly visible on the handle of the dagger."

CHAPTER XIII.

THE REPORTER OF THE "EVENING MOON" GIVES SOPHY A TREAT

"In the elucidation of a mystery there are facts which have to be slowly and laboriously built up; there are others which need no such process but establish themselves instantly in the analytical and well-balanced mind. Our reporter is gifted with such a mind, and certain facts connected with the case of M. Felix took instant form and order. We will set these facts before our readers briefly and concisely:

"It is necessary to premise-

"First, that M. Felix kept a loaded revolver beneath the pillows of his bed.

"Second, that when Constables Wigg and Nightingale, Mrs. Middlemore, and Dr. Lamb entered M. Felix's sitting-room after the door was forced open, the window was open.

"We now proceed to the sequence of events.

"Shortly before his death M. Felix, being alone in the house in Gerard Street, received a visitor. Whether expected or unexpected, whether welcome or unwelcome, we are not prepared to state; nor are we prepared to state how this visitor obtained entrance to the house. Obtain entrance by some means he undoubtedly did, and mounting the stairs, he knocked at the door of M. Felix's sitting-room. At the moment M. Felix heard the knock he had his Indian desk open before him, and it was in connection with a secret which this desk contained, or to which a document in the desk could afford a clue, that the visit was made. M. Felix, supposing that it was his housekeeper who knocked, opened the door and admitted the intruder. A stormy scene ensued, and M. Felix, throwing open his window, screamed for help. The appeal was sent forth into the wild night more from the fear that he was about to be robbed of this secret than from the fear that his life was in danger. The hypothesis is strengthened by the fact that there were no marks of personal violence on the body of M. Felix. The visitor laid hands upon the desk, and as he did so M. Felix turned from the window, snatched up the dagger, and hurled it with all his force at the robber. The sharp point struck into the flesh of the intruder, and it was his blood which was discovered on the floor of the room. The agitation produced by the scene brought on the attack of heart disease which caused M. Felix's death. The blind and momentary delirium which ensued did not prevent M. Felix from thinking of the revolver beneath his pillows; he staggered into his bedroom, but before he reached his bed he fell lifeless in a chair. While this was going on the robber had seized the desk, and, conscious that to carry away with him the evidence of a dagger dripping with blood might lead to his detection, he threw it swiftly from him behind the sideboard. He threw it with his right hand, his back being toward the door, which accounts for the place and position in which our reporter found the weapon. Then, with the desk in his possession, he escaped from the house-ignorant of the tragedy that had occurred, ignorant that M. Felix was lying dead within a few feet of him. He left the door open, but the fierce wind through the window blew it shut. It was while it was open that the cat which alarmed Mrs. Middlemore and the two constables crept into the room, became besmeared with blood, and crept out.

"The departure of the thief was like the falling of the curtain upon a pregnant act in an exciting drama. Imagination follows the man as he flies with his stolen treasure through the deserted streets; imagination wanders to the dead form of M. Felix lying in the chair by the bedside. When the curtain rises again, what will be disclosed?

"These thoughts came to the mind of our reporter with lightning rapidity. Mrs. Middlemore had opened the street door, had closed it again, and was now ascending the stairs. What should he do with the dagger?

"To retain it would be an unwarranted act, and might be construed into a theft. To take Mrs. Middlemore into his confidence might thwart his operations in the future. He put his hand behind the sideboard, and let the dagger fall. It was now safely hidden from sight, and its presence behind the sideboard could only be discovered, by any other person than himself, by the shifting of that piece of furniture.