The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) - Arthur B. Reeve (best detective novels of all time TXT) 📗

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Of Any Assistance. You See,  Except For A Mere Passing Acquaintance

Miss Gilbert And I Had Drifted Entirely Apart--Entirely Apart--

Owing To Circumstances Over Which I,  At Least,  Had No Control."

 

"I Thought Perhaps You Might Have Heard From Her Or About Her,

Through Some Mutual Friend," Remarked Kennedy,  Carefully

Concealing Under His Nonchalance What I Knew Was Working In His

Mind--A Belief That,  After All,  The Old Attachment Had Not Been So

Dead As The Gilberts Had Fancied.

 

"No,  Not A Breath,  Either Before This Sad Occurrence Or,  Of

Course,  After. Believe Me,  If I Could Add One Fact That Would

Simplify The Search For Georgette--Ah,  Miss Gilbert--Ah--I Would

Do So In A Moment," Replied Lawton Quickly,  As If Desirous Of

Getting Rid Of Us As Soon As Possible. Then Perhaps As If

Regretting The Brusqueness With Which He Had Tried To End The

Interview,  He Added,  "Don't Misunderstand Me. The Moment You Have

Discovered Anything That Points To Her Whereabouts,  Let Me Know

Immediately. You Can Count On Me--Provided You Don't Get Me Into

The Papers. Good-Night,  Gentlemen. I Wish You The Best Of

Success."

 

"Do You Think He Could Have Kept Up The Acquaintance Secretly?" I

Asked Craig As We Walked Up The Avenue After This Baffling

Interview. "Could He Have Cast Her Off When He Found That In Spite

Of Her Parents' Protests She Was Still In His Power?"

 

"It's Impossible To Say What A Man Of Dudley Lawton's Type Could

Do," Mused Kennedy,  "For The Simple Reason That He Himself Doesn't

Know Until He Has To Do It. Until We Have More Facts,  Anything Is

Both Possible And Probable."

 

There Was Nothing More That Could Be Done That Night,  Though After

Our Walk We Sat Up For An Hour Or Two Discussing Probabilities. It

Did Not Take Me Long To Reach The End Of My Imagination And Give

Up The Case,  But Kennedy Continued To Revolve The Matter In His

Mind,  Looking At It From Every Angle And Calling Upon All The Vast

Store Of Information That He Had Treasured Up In That Marvellous

Brain Of His,  Ready To Be Called On Almost As If His Mind Were

Card-Indexed.

 

"Murders,  Suicides,  Robberies,  And Burglaries Are,  After All,

Pretty Easily Explained," He Remarked,  After A Long Period Of

Silence On My Part,  "But The Sudden Disappearance Of People Out Of

The Crowded City Into Nowhere Is Something That Is Much Harder To

Explain. And It Isn't So Difficult To Disappear As Some People

Imagine,  Either. You Remember The Case Of The Celebrated Arctic

Explorer Whose Picture Had Been Published Scores Of Times In Every

Illustrated Paper. He Had No Trouble In Disappearing And Then

Reappearing Later,  When He Got Ready.

 

"Yet Experience Has Taught Me That There Is Always A Reason For

Disappearances. It Is Our Next Duty To Discover That Reason.

Still,  It Won't Do To Say That Disappearances Are Not Mysterious.

Disappearances Except For Money Troubles Are All Mysterious. The

First Thing In Such A Case Is To Discover Whether The Person Has

Any Hobbies Or Habits Or Fads. That Is What I Tried To Find Out

From The Gilberts. I Can't Tell Yet Whether I Succeeded."

 

Kennedy Took A Pencil And Hastily Jotted Down Something On A Piece

Of Paper Which He Tossed Over To Me. It Read:

 

1. Love,  Family Trouble.

 

2. A Romantic Disposition.

 

Part 3 Chapter 7 (The White Slave) Pg 76

. Temporary Insanity,  Self-Destruction.

 

4. Criminal Assault.

 

5. Aphasia.

 

6. Kidnapping.

 

"Those Are The Reasons Why People Disappear,  Eliminating Criminals

And Those Who Have Financial Difficulties. Dream On That And See

If You Can Work Out The Answer In Your Subliminal Consciousness.

Good-Night."

 

Needless To Say,  I Was No Further Advanced In The Morning Than At

Midnight,  But Kennedy Seemed To Have Evolved At Least A Tentative

Programme. It Started With A Visit To The Public Library,  Where He

Carefully Went Over The Ground Already Gone Over By The Police.

Finding Nothing,  He Concluded That Miss Gilbert Had Not Found What

She Wanted At The Library And Had Continued The Quest,  Even As He

Was Continuing The Quest Of Herself.

 

His Next Step Was To Visit The Department-Store. The Purchase Had

Been An Inconsequential Affair Of Half A Dozen Handkerchiefs,  To

Be Sent Home. This Certainly Did Not Look Like A Premeditated

Disappearance; But Craig Was Proceeding On The Assumption That

This Purchase Indicated Nothing Except That There Had Been A Sale

Of Handkerchiefs Which Had Caught Her Eye. Having Stopped At The

Library First And A Book-Shop Afterward,  He Assumed That She Had

Also Visited The Book-Department Of The Store. But Here Again

Nobody Seemed To Recall Her Or That She Had Asked For Anything In

Particular.

 

Our Last Hope Was The Book-Shop. We Paused For A Moment To Look At

The Display In The Window,  But Only For A Moment,  For Craig

Quickly Pulled Me Along Inside. In The Window Was A Display Of

Books Bearing The Sign:

 

Books On New Thought,  Occultism,  Clairvoyance,  Mesmerism

 

Instead Of Attempting To Go Over The Ground Already Traversed By

The Police,  Who Had Interrogated The Numerous Clerks Without

Discovering Which One,  If Any,  Had Waited On Miss Gilbert,  Kennedy

Asked At Once To See The Record Of Sales Of The Morning On Which

She Had Disappeared. Running His Eye Quickly Down The Record,  He

Picked Out A Work On Clairvoyance And Asked To See The Young Woman

Who Had Made The Sale. The Clerk Was,  However,  Unable To Recall To

Whom She Had Sold The Book,  Though She Finally Admitted That She

Thought It Might Have Been A Young Woman Who Had Some Difficulty

In Making Up Her Mind Just Which One Of The Numerous Volumes She

Wanted. She Could Not Say Whether The Picture Kennedy Showed Her

Of Miss Gilbert Was That Of Her Customer,  Nor Was She Sure That

The Customer Was Not Escorted By Some One. Altogether It Was

Nearly As Hazy As Our Interview With Lawton.

 

"Still," Remarked Kennedy Cheerfully,  "It May Furnish A Clue,

After All. The Clerk At Least Was Not Positive That It Was Not

Miss Gilbert To Whom She Sold The Book. Since We Are Down In This

Neighbourhood,  Let Us Drop In And See Mr. Gilbert Again. Perhaps

Something May Have Happened Since Last Night."

 

Mr. Gilbert Was In The Dry-Goods Business In A Loft Building In

The New Dry-Goods Section On Fourth Avenue. One Could Almost Feel

That A Tragedy Had Invaded Even His Place Of Business. As We

Entered,  We Could See Groups Of Clerks,  Evidently Discussing The

Case. It Was No Wonder,  I Felt,  For The Head Of The Firm Was

Almost Frantic,  And Beside The Loss Of His Only Daughter The Loss

Of His Business Would Count As Nothing,  At Least Until The Keen

Edge Of His Grief Was Worn Off.

 

"Mr. Gilbert Is Out," Replied His Secretary,  In Answer To Our

Inquiry. "Haven't You Heard? They Have Just Discovered The Body 

Part 3 Chapter 7 (The White Slave) Pg 77

His Daughter In A Lonely Spot In The Croton Aqueduct. The Report

Came In From The Police Just A Few Minutes Ago. It Is Thought That

She Was Murdered In The City And Carried There In An Automobile."

 

The News Came With A Stinging Shock. I Felt That,  After All,  We

Were Too Late. In Another Hour The Extras Would Be Out,  And The

News Would Be Spread Broadcast. The Affair Would Be In The Hands

Of The Amateur Detectives,  And There Was No Telling How Many

Promising Clues Might Be Lost.

 

"Dead!" Exclaimed Kennedy,  As He Jammed His Hat On His Head And

Bolted For The Door. "Hurry,  Walter. We Must Get There Before The

Coroner Makes His Examination."

 

I Don't Know How We Managed To Do It,  But By Dint Of Subway,

Elevated,  And Taxicab We Arrived On The Scene Of The Tragedy Not

Very Long After The Coroner. Mr. Gilbert Was There,  Silent,  And

Looking As If He Had Aged Many Years Since The Night Before; His

Hand Shook And He Could Merely Nod Recognition To Us.

 

Already The Body Had Been Carried To A Rough Shanty In The

Neighbourhood,  And The Coroner Was Questioning Those Who Had Made

The Discovery,  A Party Of Italian Labourers On The Water

Improvement Near By. They Were A Vicious Looking Crew,  But They

Could Tell Nothing Beyond The Fact That One Of Them Had Discovered

The Body In A Thicket Where It Could Not Possibly Have Lain Longer

Than Overnight. There Was No Reason,  As Yet,  To Suspect Any Of

Them,  And Indeed,  As A Much Travelled Automobile Road Ran Within A

Few Feet Of The Thicket,  There Was Every Reason To Believe That

The Murder,  If Murder It Was,  Had Been Committed Elsewhere And

That The Perpetrator Had Taken This Means Of Getting Rid Of His

Unfortunate Victim.

 

Drawn And Contorted Were The Features Of The Poor Girl,  As If She

Had Died In Great Physical Agony Or After A Terrific Struggle.

Indeed,  Marks Of Violence On Her Delicate Throat And Neck Showed

Only Too Plainly That She Had Been Choked.

 

As Kennedy Bent Over The Form Of The Once Lovely Georgette,  He

Noted The Clenched Hands. Then He Looked At Them More Closely. I

Was Standing A Little Behind Him,  For Though Craig And I Had Been

Through Many Thrilling Adventures,  The Death Of A Human Being,

Especially Of A Girl Like Miss Gilbert,  Filled Me With Horror And

Revulsion. I Could See,  However,  That He Had Noted Something

Unusual. He Pulled Out A Little Pocket Magnifying Glass And Made

An Even More Minute Examination Of The Hands. At Last He Rose And

Faced Us,  Almost As If In Triumph. I Could Not See What He Had

Discovered--At Least It Did Not Seem To Be Anything Tangible,  Like

A Weapon.

 

Quickly He Opened The Pocketbook Which She Had Carried. It Seemed

To Be Empty,  And He Was About To Shut It When Something White,

Sticking In One Corner,  Caught His Eye. Craig Pulled Out A

Clipping From A Newspaper,  And We Crowded About Him To Look At It.

It Was A Large Clipping From The Section Of One Of The

Metropolitan Journals Which Carries A Host Of Such Advertisements

As "Spirit Medium," "Psychic Palmist," "Yogi Mediator," "Magnetic

Influences," "Crystal Gazer," "Astrologer," "Trance Medium," And

The Like. At Once I Thought Of The Sallow,  Somewhat Mystic

Countenance Of Dudley,  And The Idea Flashed,  Half-Formed,  In My

Mind That Somehow This Clue,  Together With The Purchase Of The

Book On Clairvoyance,  Might Prove The Final Link Necessary.

 

But The First Problem In Kennedy's Mind Was To Keep In Touch With

What The Authorities Were Doing. That Kept Us Busy For Several

Hours,  During Which Craig Was In Close Consultation With The

Coroner's Physician. The Physician Was Of The Opinion That Miss

Gilbert Had Been Drugged As Well As Strangled,  And For Many Hours,

Down In His Laboratory,  His Chemists Were Engaged In Trying To

Discover From Tests Of Her Blood Whether The Theory Was True. One

After Another The Ordinary Poisons Were Eliminated,  Until It Began

To Look Hopeless.