The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) - Arthur B. Reeve (best detective novels of all time TXT) 📗
- Author: Arthur B. Reeve
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The Result Was A Portrait Which Might Well Have Been Painted From
The Subject Herself Rather Than From A Cold Photograph.
"Haswell Saw The Growing Intimacy Of His Daughter And The Artist.
His Bent Of Mind Was Solely Toward Money And Material Things, And
He At Once Conceived A Bitter And Unreasoning Hatred For Martin,
Who, He Believed, Had 'Schemed' To Capture His Daughter And An
Easy Living. Art Was As Foreign To His Nature As Possible.
Nevertheless They Went Ahead And Married, And, Well, It Resulted
In The Old Man Disinheriting The Girl. The Young Couple
Disappeared Bravely To Make Their Way By Their Chosen Profession
And, As Far As I Know, Have Never Been Heard From Since Until Now.
Haswell Made A New Will And I Have Always Understood That
Practically All Of His Fortune Is To Be Devoted To Founding The
Technology Department In A Projected University Of Brooklyn."
"You Have Never Seen This Mrs. Martin Or Her Husband?" Asked
Kennedy.
"No, Never. But In Some Way She Must Have Learned That I Had Some
Influence With Her Father, For She Wrote To Me Not Long Ago,
Enclosing A Note For Him And Asking Me To Intercede For Her. I Did
So. I Took The Letter To Him As Diplomatically As I Could. The Old
Man Flew Into A Towering Rage, Refused Even To Look At The Letter,
Tore It Up Into Bits, And Ordered Me Never To Mention The Subject
To Him Again. That Is Her Note, Which I Saved. However, It Is The
Sequel About Which I Wish Your Help."
The Physician Folded Up The Patched Letter Carefully Before He
Continued. "Mr. Haswell, As You Perhaps Know, Has For Many Years
Been A Prominent Figure In Various Curious Speculations, Or Rather
In Loaning Money To Many Curious Speculators. It Is Not Necessary
To Go Into The Different Schemes Which He Has Helped To Finance.
Even Though Most Of Them Have Been Unknown To The Public They Have
Certainly Given Him Such A Reputation That He Is Much Sought After
By Inventors.
"Not Long Ago Haswell Became Interested In The Work Of An Obscure
Chemist Over In Brooklyn, Morgan Prescott. Prescott Claims, As I
Understand, To Be Able To Transmute Copper Into Gold. Whatever You
Think Of It Offhand, You Should Visit His Laboratory Yourselves,
Gentlemen. I Am Told It Is Wonderful, Though I Have Never Seen It
And Can't Explain It. I Have Met Prescott Several Times While He
Was Trying To Persuade Mr. Haswell To Back Him In His Scheme, But
He Was Never Disposed To Talk To Me, For I Had No Money To Invest.
So Far As I Know About It The Thing Sounds Scientific And
Plausible Enough. I Leave You To Judge Of That. It Is Only An
Incident In My Story And I Will Pass Over It Quickly. Prescott,
Then, Believes That The Elements Are Merely Progressive Variations
Of An Original Substance Or Base Called 'Protyle,' From Which
Everything Is Derived. But This Fellow Prescott Goes Much Further
Than Any Of The Former Theorists. He Does Not Stop With Matter. He
Believes That He Has The Secret Of Life Also, That He Can Make The
Transition From The Inorganic To The Organic, From Inert Matter To
Living Protoplasm, And Thence From Living Protoplasm To Mind And
What We Call Soul, Whatever That May Be."
"And Here Is Where The Weird And Uncanny Part Of It Comes In,"
Commented Craig, Turning From The Doctor To Me To Call My
Attention Particularly To What Was About To Follow.
"Having Arrived At The Point Where He Asserts That He Can Create
And Destroy Matter, Life, And Mind," Continued The Doctor, As If
Himself Fascinated By The Idea, "Prescott Very Naturally Does Not
Have To Go Far Before He Also Claims A Control Over Telepathy And
Even A Communication With The Dead. He Even Calls The Messages
Which He Receives By A Word Which He Has Coined Himself,
'Telepagrams.' Thus He Says He Has Unified The Physical, The
Physiological, And The Psychical--A System Of Absolute Scientific
Monism."
Part 3 Chapter 11 (The Invisible Ray) Pg 127
The Doctor Paused Again, Then Resumed. "One Afternoon, About A
Week Ago, Apparently, As Far As I Am Able To Piece Together The
Story, Prescott Was Demonstrating His Marvellous Discovery Of The
Unity Of Nature. Suddenly He Faced Mr. Haswell.
"'Shall I Tell You A Fact, Sir, About Yourself?' He Asked Quickly.
'The Truth As I See It By Means Of My Wonderful Invention? If It
Is The Truth, Will You Believe In Me? Will You Put Money Into My
Invention? Will You Share In Becoming Fabulously Rich?'
"Haswell Made Some Noncommittal Answer. But Prescott Seemed To
Look Into The Machine Through A Very Thick Plate-Glass Window,
With Haswell Placed Directly Before It. He Gave A Cry. 'Mr.
Haswell,' He Exclaimed, 'I Regret To Tell You What I See. You Have
Disinherited Your Daughter; She Has Passed Out Of Your Life And At
The Present Moment You Do Not Know Where She Is.'
"'That's True,' Replied The Old Man Bitterly, 'And More Than That
I Don't Care. Is That All You See? That's Nothing New.'
"'No, Unfortunately, That Is Not All I See. Can You Bear Something
Further? I Think You Ought To Know It. I Have Here A Most
Mysterious Telepagram.'
"'Yes. What Is It? Is She Dead?'
"'No, It Is Not About Her. It Is About Yourself. To-Night At
Midnight Or Perhaps A Little Later,' Repeated Prescott Solemnly,
'You Will Lose Your Sight As A Punishment For Your Action.'
"'Pouf!' Exclaimed The Old Man In A Dudgeon, 'If That Is All Your
Invention Can Tell Me, Good-Bye. You Told Me You Were Able To Make
Gold. Instead, You Make Foolish Prophecies. I'll Put No Money Into
Such Tomfoolery. I'm A Practical Man,' And With That He Stamped
Out Of The Laboratory.
"Well, That Night, About One O'clock, In The Silence Of The Lonely
Old House, The Aged Caretaker, Jane, Whom He Had Hired After He
Banished His Daughter From His Life, Heard A Wild Shout Of 'Help!
Help!' Haswell, Alone In His Room On The Second Floor, Was Groping
About In The Dark.
"'Jane,' He Ordered, 'A Light--A Light.'
"'I Have Lighted The Gas, Mr. Haswell,' She Cried.
"A Groan Followed. He Had Himself Found A Match, Had Struck It,
Had Even Burnt His Fingers With It, Yet He Saw Nothing.
"The Blow Had Fallen. At Almost The Very Hour Which Prescott, By
Means Of His Weird Telepagram Had Predicted, Old Haswell Was
Stricken.
"'I'm Blind,' He Gasped. 'Send For Dr. Burnham.'
"I Went To Him Immediately When The Maid Roused Me, But There Was
Nothing I Could Do Except Prescribe Perfect Rest For His Eyes And
Keeping In A Dark Room In The Hope That His Sight Might Be
Restored As Suddenly And Miraculously As It Had Been Taken Away.
"The Next Morning, With His Own Hand, Trembling And Scrawling In
His Blindness, He Wrote The Following On A Piece Of Paper:
"'Mrs. Grace Martin.--Information Wanted About The Present
Whereabouts Of Mrs. Grace Martin, Formerly Grace Haswell Of
Brooklyn."
Stephen Haswell,----Pierrepont St., Brooklyn.
"This Advertisement He Caused To Be Placed In All The New York
Part 3 Chapter 11 (The Invisible Ray) Pg 128Papers And To Be Wired To The Leading Western Papers. Haswell
Himself Was A Changed Man After His Experience. He Spoke Bitterly
Of Prescott, Yet His Attitude Toward His Daughter Was Completely
Reversed. Whether He Admitted To Himself A Belief In The
Prediction Of The Inventor, I Do Not Know. Certainly He Scouted
Such An Idea In Telling Me About It.
"A Day Or Two After The Advertisements Appeared A Telegram Came To
The Old Man From A Little Town In Indiana. It Read Simply: 'Dear
Father: Am Starting For Brooklyn To-Day. Grace.'
"The Upshot Was That Grace Haswell, Or Rather Grace Martin,
Appeared The Next Day, Forgave And Was Forgiven With Much Weeping,
Although The Old Man Still Refused Resolutely To Be Reconciled
With And Receive Her Husband. Mrs. Martin Started In To Clean Up
The Old House. A Vacuum Cleaner Sucked A Ton Or Two Of Dust From
It. Everything Was Changed. Jane Grumbled A Great Deal, But There
Was No Doubt A Great Improvement. Meals Were Served Regularly. The
Old Man Was Taken Care Of As Never Before. Nothing Was Too Good
For Him. Everywhere The Touch Of A Woman Was Evident In The House.
The Change Was Complete. It Even Extended To Me. Some Friend Had
Told Her Of An Eye And Ear Specialist, A Dr. Scott, Who Was
Engaged. Since Then, I Understand, A New Will Has Been Made, Much
To The Chagrin Of The Trustees Of The Projected School. Of Course
I Am Cut Out Of The New Will, And That With The Knowledge At Least
Of The Woman Who Once Appealed To Me, But It Does Not Influence Me
In Coming To You."
"But What Has Happened Since To Arouse Suspicion?" Asked Kennedy,
Watching The Doctor Furtively.
"Why, The Fact Is That, In Spite Of All This Added Care, The Old
Man Is Failing More Rapidly Than Ever. He Never Goes Out Except
Attended And Not Much Even Then. The Other Day I Happened To Meet
Jane On The Street. The Faithful Old Soul Poured Forth A Long
Story About His Growing Dependence On Others And Ended By
Mentioning A Curious Red Discoloration That Seems To Have Broken
Out Over His Face And Hands. More From The Way She Said It Than
From What She Said I Gained The Impression That Something Was
Going On Which Should Be Looked Into."
"Then You Perhaps Think That Prescott And Mrs. Martin Are In Some
Way Connected In This Case?" I Hazarded.
I Had Scarcely Framed The Question Before He Replied In An
Emphatic Negative. "On The Contrary, It Seems To Me That If They
Know Each Other At All It Is With Hostility. With The Exception Of
The First Stroke Of Blindness"--Here He Lowered His Voice
Earnestly--"Practically Every Misfortune That Has Overtaken Mr.
Haswell Has Been Since The Advent Of This New Dr. Scott. Mind, I
Do Not Wish Even To Breathe That Mrs. Martin Has Done Anything
Except What A Daughter Should Do. I Think She Has Shown Herself A
Model Of Forgiveness And Devotion. Nevertheless The Turn Of Events
Under The New Treatment Has Been So Strange That Almost It Makes
One Believe That There Might Be Something Occult About It--Or
Wrong With The New Doctor."
"Would It Be Possible, Do You Think, For Us To See Mr. Haswell?"
Asked Kennedy, When Dr. Burnham Had Come To A Full Stop After
Pouring Forth His Suspicions. "I Should Like To See This Dr.
Scott. But First I Should Like To Get Into The Old House Without
Exciting Hostility."
The Doctor Was Thoughtful. "You'll Have To Arrange That Yourself,"
He Answered. "Can't You Think Up A Scheme? For Instance, Go To Him
With A Proposal Like The Old Schemes He Used To Finance. He Is
Very Much Interested In Electrical Inventions. He Made His Money
By Speculation In Telegraphs And Telephones In The Early Days When
They Were More Or Less Dreams. I Should Think A Wireless System Of
Television Might At Least Interest Him And Furnish An Excuse For
Getting In, Although I Am Told His Daughter Discourages All
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