An Artist in Crime

Scheherezade began to recite the story of Sindbad, a monologue for the evening having been prepared which told in a few words enough to explain the sequence of the tableaux. Her voice was musical, and her reading admirable, so that very soon there was a silence as of death save as it was broken by her words. As she reached various parts of her tale, she would clap her hands, and at once others entered the scene, grouping themselves to form new pictures. Thus Sindbad was followed along his various travels, till at the end the curtains were dropped for a moment, to be parted again, showing all who had taken a character. Then followed a pretty ceremonial. Sindbad passed out of the Cave room and approached the Sultan and Scheherezade. Reaching them he stopped, made a salaam, bowing low with his arms upraised in front of him, and then passing on, taking a place in the room and so becoming a part of the audience for the succeeding pictures. Each of the characters followed his example, until all had passed out, when the next set of tableaux was at once quickly arranged. Again Scheherezade renewed her recitation.

Thus fable after fable was told and acted, the audience in the Palace room growing larger, after each, so that soon well-managed pictures received generous applause.

At last the committee announced that the fable of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves would be the next on the program. The parts to be acted by each were quickly explained, and all was ready. As the Forty Thieves were practically like supernumeraries in a spectacular play, Mr. Barnes thought that he could take any position which he should choose and so stood through all the scenes as near to Ali Baba as possible. At last the recitation was ended, and the signal given for them to form a line to do obeisance to the Sultan. Mr. Barnes attempted to stand immediately behind Ali Baba, and was surprised to find two other men try for the same place coincidently. There was a moment of confusion, and then Mr. Barnes found himself in line just between the two other aspirants for second place behind the leader.

That what next occurred may be thoroughly understood, it will be well to call accurate attention to the position of the various actors. The Palace room was practically dark, though light from the Cave room lessened the gloom so much that the figures could be distinguished enough to know whether a man or a woman were crossing the floor.

The Sultan, Mr. Van Rawlston, lay on a divan, not far from the Cave room, and facing it. Scheherezade, Miss Emily Remsen, sat on a cushion beside him. Both of them faced the tableaux, and it will be seen at once that from gazing towards the light, if either turned towards the darkness, blindness would result for a few moments. Ali Baba, heading the line of Forty Thieves came towards the divan. Here he stopped, made a salaam, bowing low, bringing his arms up above the head outstretched in front of him, then parting them with a swaying movement backwards, he rose erect again. This done he passed on into the darker part of the room. Next came the first of the Forty Thieves, Mr. Barnes following close behind him. This man made his salaam, bowing low. As he did so there was a slight noise. This attracted Mr. Barnes's attention for a moment, and his eye wandered in the direction of the sound. For the merest part of a second, however, did his gaze leave the man before him, and when it returned he distinctly saw the figure do this. In making his salaam when outstretching his arms he allowed his hand to pass just over the head of Miss Remsen, who was looking down, perhaps to become relieved from the glare of the other room. Mr. Barnes saw him deliberately and slowly take hold of her ruby pin, gently withdrawing it from her hair. Just then a clock began to chime the midnight hour. Instantaneously a thought flashed through the detective's mind. At the first note of the chimes the time had passed within which Mr. Mitchel had wagered to commit his robbery. He had thought that the man who had spoken to him had the voice of Mr. Mitchel. He had also come to this place expecting that this very jewel would be stolen. He had supposed that Thauret would play the part of accomplice and thief, whilst the principal, Mitchel, was manufacturing an alibi down in Philadelphia. It was evident now, so he thought, that Mitchel had escaped his spies, returned to New York, assumed one of the disguises which he himself had placed within easy reach, and now, on the very stroke of the last hour of his time, had committed his robbery, – a robbery, too, which would make a commotion, and yet for which he could not be imprisoned if detected, since his fiancée at his instigation would say that she had simply aided the scheme to further the wager, as perhaps she had, since she did not stir when the gem was being taken. All this flashed through Mr. Barnes's brain in a half moment, and by the time the thief before him had secured the ruby and was standing erect he had decided upon his course of action. This was to seize the man at once, and proclaim him a thief. Of course Mr. Mitchel would be able to explain his act, but at the same time he would have lost his wager.

The man in front turned to pass on, and Mr. Barnes darted forward to seize him, when, to his astonishment, he was himself held as in a vise by the man behind him. He struggled to free himself, but, taken by surprise, he discovered that he was powerless. What angered him more was that the thief was fast disappearing in the gloom. Determined not to be outwitted, he shouted:

"Turn up the lights. A robbery has been committed."

Instantly all was confusion. People crowded forward, and Mr. Barnes felt himself hurled violently toward the advancing throng. Toppling against some one, both fell to the ground, and several others tumbled over them. Pandemonium reigned supreme, yet it was some time before any one thought of turning up the lights. Mr. Van Rawlston, understanding the situation better than any other, was the first to recover his presence of mind, and himself turned on the electricity. The sudden rush of light at first only made things worse, for it blinded everybody. Thus to the detective's chagrin several valuable minutes were lost before he could extricate himself from the pile of people who had tumbled over him, and find a chance to say aloud:

"Miss Remsen has been robbed. Let no one leave the house. Masks off."

Mr. Van Rawlston rushed to the door to see that no one departed, and people crowded around Miss Remsen to condole with her upon her loss. Mr. Barnes searched for Ali Baba, and was amazed when he found him to discover that it was not Mr. Thauret.

"Who are you?" he asked roughly.

"My name is Adrian Fisher," was the reply. This astonished the detective, but it pleased him too, for it seemed to confirm the suspicion that this man was an accomplice. He decided quickly to say no more to him at that time, and hastened towards Miss Remsen to observe her behavior. If she knew anything in advance she certainly was acting admirably, for she had grown excited, and was talking vehemently to those about her, declaring against the disgraceful management, so she termed it, which had enabled a thief to enter the rooms.

Whilst Mr. Barnes was thinking what to do, he saw Mr. Van Rawlston approaching him, accompanied by Mr. Thauret, who was now in evening dress.

"Mr. Barnes, how was this thing done? Why did you not prevent it?"

"I tried to do so, but could not. You must understand, Mr. Van Rawlston, that I am not omniscient. I suspected that this robbery would occur, but I could not know how it would be accomplished. Nevertheless I saw the act."

"Then why did you not seize the thief?"

"I attempted to do so, and was thrown down from behind by his accomplice."

"Can you identify the person by his dress?"

"That is, unfortunately, impossible. All that I know is that he was one of the Forty Thieves, and evidently played his part well."

"This is Mr. Barnes?" said Mr. Thauret, inquiringly, continuing at once: "Yes, of course it is. We have met twice, I think. You say your thief was dressed as one of the Forty Thieves. That interests me, for I wore one of those dresses. Why not ask all who did to allow themselves to be searched?"

"I will not hear of such an indignity to my guests," at once ejaculated Mr. Van Rawlston. "Search people in my own house! No, sir. I will willingly pay for the lost gem rather than do so."

"You are quite right," said the detective, keenly eying Mr. Thauret, "I am sure that it would be useless."

"As you please," said Mr. Thauret, and with a satirical smile he bowed and joined the group around Miss Remsen.

Mr. Barnes told Mr. Van Rawlston that it would be useless for him to remain longer, and that he would depart. He did not do so, however, until he had assured himself that Mr. Mitchel was not in the house. He went to the door, and found that the boy who had been told to guard it had been absent looking at the tableaux when the confusion occurred, so that he did not know whether any one had left the house or not. He therefore departed in disgust.

"That fellow Mitchel," thought he, as he walked rapidly down the avenue, – "that fellow is an artist. To think of the audacity of waiting till the very moment when his wager would be lost, and then committing the robbery in such a manner that a hundred people will be able to testify that it occurred within the limited period. Meanwhile there is an excellent alibi for him. Sick in a hotel in Philadelphia! Bah! Isn't there one man that I can depend upon?"

At Forty-second Street he took the elevated road, and in twenty minutes he was at his office. Here he found the spy who had followed Mr. Mitchel to Philadelphia.

"Well," said he, angrily, "what are you doing here?"

"I am sure that Mitchel has returned to New York. I came on hoping to catch up with him, and at least to warn you."

"Your warning comes too late. The mischief is done. Didn't you have brains enough to telegraph?"

"I did just before I started." The despatch was on Mr. Barnes's desk unopened. It had arrived after he had started for the festival.

"Well, well," said the detective, testily, "I suppose you have done your best. That fellow has the devil's luck. What made you think that he had come to New York? Wasn't he sick?"

"I thought that might be a game for an alibi. To find out, I registered, asking for a room near my friend Mr. Mitchel. They gave me the one next to his. I picked the lock of the door between the rooms and peeped in. Seeing no one, I went in. The place was empty. The bird had skipped."

"Take the next train back to Philadelphia, and do the best you can to find out when Mitchel reaches there. He has gone back sure, and will be sick in bed in the morning, or my name is not Barnes. Bring me proof of his trip to and from New York, and I will give you fifty dollars. Skip."

CHAPTER XI.

MR. BARNES RECEIVES SEVERAL LETTERS

On the morning of the third of January the mail which reached Mr. Barnes contained several letters of interest to those who follow this history. The first which he opened was very brief. It read:

"If Mr. Barnes will call at his earliest convenience he will greatly oblige

Emily Remsen."

He read this twice, and then took up another, which was as follows:

"J. Barnes, Esq.:

"Dear Sir: I take the liberty of recalling to your mind the conversation which I had with you last month. I regret very much that I should have hinted that there was any possibility that my friend Mr. Mitchel might be implicated in the Pullman car robbery. As you know, Miss Emily Remsen was robbed at the festival, night before last, of a ruby pin worth $20,000. It is very evident to my mind that Mr. Mitchel's hand is in this. I know that he pretends to be sick at a hotel in Philadelphia, but may not that be a humbug? It would have been easy enough for him to slip over, don one of the Forty Thieves dominos, take the gem, and get back to Philadelphia the same night. This would be a safe theft for him to commit, especially as he may have the assistance of Miss Remsen. Now as all is fair in a bet, I want you to undertake to prove for me that Mr. Mitchel committed this theft. I want to win that wager from him, and don't mind spending money. Even if I should advance you the whole thousand, I should save my own, provided you convict him within a year. Besides, the satisfaction to me would be worth the money. It takes a sharp man to get ahead of Mr. Mitchel. I enclose a check for two hundred, as a sort of retainer, and you may draw on me for more, up to one thousand dollars if you should need it. By the way, whilst writing to you I may as well confess that I was wrong in my suspicion of Mr. Thauret. I am sure that he does not cheat at cards. I have watched him frequently since then, and he certainly plays a square game. I have no reason for liking the man, and as a fact dislike him most heartily. Nevertheless justice compels me to retract the imputation which I put upon him. Another thing: the partner with whom he played that night I told you was unknown to me. I have since made his acquaintance, and though he is poor, he is a gentleman, and above suspicion. His name is Adrian Fisher. Hoping you will help me to win my wager,

Yours truly,"Arthur Randolph."

"So," thought Mr. Barnes, "even Mr. Randolph sees through the transparent scheme of being sick in Philadelphia and stealing his sweetheart's jewelry in New York. It is one thing to see the trick, however, and quite another to prove it. He thinks that Thauret and Fisher are both virtuous. Well, I am afraid he is mistaken there." He took up another letter. It read:

"Philadelphia, Jan. 2d.

"Dear Mr. Barnes:

"Pardon my familiarity, but I think we are getting pretty well acquainted with one another. I have just read the New York newspapers, and am startled to see that Miss Remsen was deliberately robbed of that valuable ruby pin which I recently gave her. You will remember that I showed you the gem the very day that I took it to be set. I am very much disturbed about this affair, especially as I am unable through sickness to return to New York, and my physician warns me that it will be several days before I can leave my room. Will you do me a great favor? Forget that I ever disparaged the detective force of which you are undoubtedly a brilliant member, and take this case in hand. I will give you one thousand dollars if you will recover the jewel, which is only a small reward considering its value. I send you a check for two hundred dollars, which you may use for expenses, and if more be needed let me know. I wish you could run over to Philadelphia to see me. A conversation with you would be a great satisfaction to me. Will you oblige,

Yours very truly,"Robert Leroy Mitchel."

Mr. Barnes read this no less than three times, and then said aloud, though there was no one to hear him: "Well!" That was all, but the tone was rich in suggestiveness. What he thought, but did not put into words, was: "That man has the coolest audacity I ever met. Here he actually offers me a thousand dollars to recover that ruby, when he knows that I was right by his side at the time of the theft. Is he so egotistic that he dares to guy me? Is he so sure that he cannot be convicted? I know that he was not in Philadelphia any way, as my man found his room empty. His alibi is broken, at all events, clever as he thinks himself. Will I go to Philadelphia to see him? Well, I should think so! A conversation with him will be as satisfactory to me as it possibly can be to him. But first I must obey the call from Miss Remsen. There may be much to learn there."

It was nearly an hour before Mr. Barnes's duties in connection with other cases made him at liberty. He went straight to Miss Remsen's, and was shown into her presence.

"You sent for me, Miss Remsen," he began.

"Yes, Mr. Barnes," she replied. "Will you be seated?" The detective accepted her invitation, and she continued: "To come to the point at once, I wish to see you about my lost ruby. It was a present from Mr. Mitchel to me, and besides being very costly, I attach a sentimental value to it. I want you to undertake to recover it, and I will give you a thousand dollars if you succeed."

Mr. Barnes had never had so many thousand-dollar offers made to him in so short a time before. He smiled slightly, and said:

"Your offer comes too late, Miss Remsen. I have a letter from Mr. Mitchel himself, making a similar offer. It would scarcely be proper for me to accept two rewards for one service."

"Then you refuse to help me?"

"On the contrary, I will use my utmost endeavors to detect the thief and recover your property for you. But I need no money from you."

"You are very conscientious, Mr. Barnes, and I admire it. I honor a man who places his duty above money."

"I thank you for your courteous remark. Now, if I am to help you, you must begin by assisting me."

"I will do whatever I can, certainly."

"Then tell me, have you no suspicion as to who might have taken your jewel?" The girl hesitated, and the detective watched her face keenly. As she did not reply at once, he asked another question.

"Did you feel the person take the pin from your hair?"

"Yes, I did, but I did not realize what was occurring till he had it!"

"Why did you not make any resistance, or cry out?"

Again she hesitated, but in a moment she said firmly:

"I know that you have a right to ask me these questions, and I will reply to them if you insist upon it. But first tell me, would it be right for me to call a name to you, as one that I may have suspected, when I had but the flimsiest excuse for my suspicion? Might I not thus do more harm than good by attracting your attention to a false scent?"

"That is certainly a possibility, Miss Remsen, but it is one which I am inclined to risk. I mean that I prefer to trust to my experience, than to have you omit to tell me your suspicions."

"Very well, only promise me that you will not jump to conclusions, and thus perhaps annoy the person whom I shall name."

"I agree to that. I will take no action without sufficient reason other than that furnished by yourself."

"Very well. You asked if I suspected any one, and again why I did not resist the thief. If you will remember, my head was bowed. At first I could not understand how something seemed to move my pin. I fancied that it had become entangled in the Sultan's robe. Then the clock began to chime, and in a moment it flashed across my mind that perhaps Mr. Mitchel was taking my pin, in order to win his wager. Therefore I said nothing. This makes my action clear to you?"

"Perfectly. Then I am to understand that Mr. Mitchel did not tell you in advance that he would do this?"

"No, he did not, and that is why I have sent for you."

"I don't understand you."

"Why, all the time that I thought he had the pin I was not worried. I even went so far as to act indignation at the festival. That was partly for your edification and mystification. I wanted to help Mr. Mitchel's plan. But when it occurred to me yesterday that Mr. Mitchel, if he had meant to take the pin, would have told me in advance, I saw at once that my first idea was wrong, and that my ruby is really gone. Then I wrote to you."

"Then you feel sure that he would have told you in advance?"

"Positive."

"May he not have feared to ask you to implicate yourself in a robbery, and possible scandal? You know he was liable to arrest, and it might be a considerable time before he could have proven that his theft was only a joke. He may have wished to spare you notoriety."

"He knows me better than that." She said this with a smile.

"How better?" asked the detective.

"I mean that he knows there is nothing that I would not risk for him, since I have consented to give him myself. I am one of those women, Mr. Barnes, who are not easily deterred from aiding the man of her choice."

"Do you mean that you would be willing to share unenviable notoriety with him, and that he knew this?"

"I do, and therefore feel confident that he would have asked my assistance if it had been his intention to take my pin."

"Just as he did on another occasion?" The detective had been leading her up to this for the last few moments, and now watched to see the effect. She did not change countenance, but simply said:

"What occasion?"

"The morning when he locked your maid in this room, whilst you went down-town and took a little girl from one house to another?"

"To what other?" This was a hard one for the detective, and as he did not reply she smiled aggravatingly, as she continued:

"Mr. Barnes, you have no proof of your assertion. You suspect that I did what you say, but you do not know it. As I told you just now, it is possible for a bare suspicion to lead one astray."

"Perhaps, but I do not think that I am far wrong in this instance."

"We will not discuss it. Let us return to the ruby. You told Mr. Van Rawlston, so he tells me, that you knew in advance that this crime was about to occur. Did you know the person who would take the pin?"

"To be perfectly frank with you, Miss Remsen, I expected that Mr. Mitchel would take it. I think now that he did take it. Do you wish me to continue the investigation? It may lead to your friend's losing his wager, whereas you have the right to notify the police that your gem has been returned to you. That would make our work on the case useless, and assure him of winning his bet."

Mr. Barnes's object here was ingenious. He thought that if the girl accepted his suggestion, he would thus be assured that she still suspected Mr. Mitchel. Thus he would reach her true opinion of the case. Her answer was.

"I cannot do that. It would certainly be to give up my hope of recovering the stone. I am sure that Mr. Mitchel has not taken it. If I am wrong, and he has done so without trusting me, why then he has made a mistake, and must suffer by it. I am sure, however, it will prove otherwise. So do the best you can, if you please."

"You may rely upon it that my best energies shall be devoted to this work. I wish you good-morning."

About six o'clock that same afternoon, Mr. Barnes sent his card up to Mr. Mitchel, at the Lafayette, in Philadelphia. A few minutes later he was shown into that gentleman's room, and found him in bed.

"Delighted to see you, Mr. Barnes. You are very kind to come and see me. For doing so, I am almost willing to forgive you for the wrong which you have done me."

"Wrong? What wrong?"

"Do you remember the day you came to see me at the Fifth Avenue, about the button which you had found? You asked me to show you the seventh of my own set. I agreed on condition that you would not annoy the lady."

"Well!"

"You broke your promise – that is all."

"In what way?"

"In the first place you bribed her maid to tell her a lie, and leave her, so that one of your spies could take her place. Secondly, your spy did take her place. The result of which was that Miss Remsen could not re-engage her old maid, and has had much trouble to get another as good."

"I did not foresee, when I made that promise, that such an emergency would arise as did later."

"Very true! But I did, and I warned you that you would gain nothing by making the promise, since you would only find my own story verified by your visit."

"Well, I am very sorry, and will say that it shall not occur again."

"But, Mr. Barnes, it has occurred again."

"How so?"

"Why, she cannot leave her home at any time, without being dogged by your spies."

Mr. Barnes bit his lip in chagrin to find how well this man was acquainted with his plans, but he replied unhesitatingly,

"This time you are wrong. I promised you not to annoy Miss Remsen in connection with the particular case of which we were then speaking. My men have shadowed her in connection with another affair."

"What other affair?"

"Abduction."

"Abduction? Absurd! Who on earth has Miss Remsen abducted?"

"The girl Rose Mitchel."

"And who, pray, is the girl Rose Mitchel? The daughter of the murdered woman?"

"Perhaps. That is what I intend to discover. She passed however, as your daughter."

"Ah! Now can you prove that she is not?"

"No."

"Very good. Then, so far as your information goes, Rose Mitchel who passed as my daughter, was removed from a certain house, to a certain other house, to you unknown." He paused a moment as though to enjoy Mr. Barnes's discomfiture, then continued: "She was taken, so you suspect, but cannot prove, by Miss Remsen. Now, then, if Miss Remsen, my affianced wife, takes a girl who is my own child from one house to another, where is the abduction so long as I make no complaint?"