The Mystery of the Boule Cabinet: A Detective Story, Burton Egbert Stevenson [general ebook reader .txt] 📗

an entirely innocent woman. With that statement, the coroner was compelled to appear satisfied.

Grady did not go on the stand; he was not even at the inquest. In fact, since the first day, he had not appeared publicly in connection with the case at all; and I had surmised that he did not care to be identified with a mystery which there seemed to be no prospect of solving, and from which no glory was to be won. The case had been placed in Simmonds's hands, and it was he who testified on behalf of the police, admitting candidly that they were all at sea. He had made a careful examination of the Vantine house, he said, particularly of the room in which the bodies had been found, and had discovered absolutely nothing in the shape of a clue to the solution of the mystery. There was something diabolical about it; something almost supernatural. He had not abandoned hope, and was still working on the case; but he was inclined to think that, if the mystery was ever solved, it would be only by some lucky accident or through the confession of the guilty man.

Goldberger was annoyed; that was evident enough from the nervous way in which he gnawed his moustache; but he had no theory any more than the police; there was not a scintilla of evidence to fasten the crime upon any one; and the end of the hearing was that the jury brought in a verdict that Philip Vantine and Georges Drouet had died from the effects of a poison administered by a person or persons unknown.

Godfrey joined me at the door as I was leaving, and we went down the steps together.

"I was glad to hear Simmonds confess that the police are up a tree," he said. "Of course, Grady is trying to sneak out of it, and blame some one else for the failure—but I'll see that he doesn't succeed. I'll see, anyway, that Simmonds gets a square deal—he's an old friend of mine, you know."

"Yes," I said, "I know; but we're all up a tree, aren't we?"

"For the present," laughed Godfrey, "we do occupy that undignified position. But you don't expect to stay there forever, do you, Lester?"

"Since my theory about the Boule cabinet exploded," I said, "I have given up hope. By the way, I'm going to turn the cabinet over to its owner to-morrow."

"To its owner?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing. "Yes, I thought he'd be around for it, though I hardly thought he'd come so soon. Who does it happen to be, Lester?"

"Why," I said, a little impatiently, "you know as well as I do that it belongs to Armand & Son."

"You've seen their representative, then?" he queried, a little flush of excitement which I could not understand spreading over his face.

"He came to see me yesterday. I'd like you to meet him, Godfrey. He is Félix Armand, the 'son' of the firm, and one of the most finished gentlemen I ever met."

"I'd like to meet him," said Godfrey, smiling queerly. "Perhaps I shall, some day; I hope so, anyway. But how did he explain the blunder, Lester?"

"In some way, they shipped the wrong cabinet to Vantine. The right one will get here on La Provence to-morrow," and I told him in detail the story which Felix Armand had told me. "He was quite upset over it," I added, "His apologies were almost abject."

Godfrey listened intently to all this, and he nodded with satisfaction when I had finished.

"It is all most interesting," he commented.

"Did M. Armand happen to mention where he is staying?"

"No, but he won't be hard to find, if you want to see him. He's at one of the big hotels, of course—probably the Plaza or the St. Regis. He's too great a swell for any minor hostelry."

"What time do you expect him to-morrow?"

"Sometime in the afternoon. He's to call for me as soon as he gets Vantine's cabinet off the boat. Godfrey," I added, "I felt yesterday when I was talking with him that perhaps he knew more about this affair than he would admit. I could see that he guessed in an instant who the owner of the letters was, and what they contained. Do you think I ought to hold on to the cabinet a while longer? I could invent some pretext for delay, easily enough."

"Why, no; let him have his cabinet," said Godfrey, with an alacrity that surprised me. "If your theory about it has been exploded, what's the use of hanging on to it?"

"I don't see any use in doing so," I admitted, "but I thought perhaps you might want more time to examine it."

"I've examined it all I'm going to," Godfrey answered, and I told myself that this was the first time I had ever known him to admit himself defeated.

"I have a sort of feeling," I explained, "that when we let go of the cabinet, we give up the only clue we have to this whole affair. It is like a confession of defeat."

"Oh, no, it isn't," Godfrey objected. "If there is nothing more to be learned from the cabinet, there is no reason to retain it. I should certainly let M. Armand have it. Perhaps I'll see you to-morrow," he added, and we parted at the corner.

But I did not see him on the morrow. I was rather expecting a call from him during the morning, and when none came, I was certain I should find him awaiting me when I arrived at the Vantine house, in company with M. Armand. But he was not there, and when I asked for him, Parks told me that he had not seen him since the day before.

I confess that Godfrey's indifference to the fate of the cabinet surprised me greatly; besides, I was hoping that he would wish to meet the fascinating Frenchman. More fascinating, if possible, than he had been on Monday, and I soon found myself completely under his spell. There had been less delay than he had anticipated in getting the cabinet off the boat and through the customs, and it was not yet three o'clock when we reached the Vantine house.

"I haven't seen Mr. Godfrey," Parks repeated, "but there's others here as it fair breaks my heart to see."

He motioned toward the door of the music-room, and, stepping to it, I saw that the inventory was already in progress. The man in charge of it nodded to me, but I did not go in, for the sight was anything but a pleasant one.

"The cabinet is in the room across the hall," I said to M. Armand, and led the way through the ante-room into the room beyond.

Parks switched on the lights for us, and my companion glanced with surprise at the heavy shutters covering the windows.

"We put those up for a protection," I explained. "We had an idea that some one would try to enter. In fact, one evening we did find a wire connecting with the burglar-alarm cut, and, later on, saw some one peering in through the hole in that shutter yonder."

"You did?" M. Armand queried quickly.

"Would you recognise the man, if you were to meet him again?"

"Oh, no; you see the hole is quite small. There was nothing visible except a pair of eyes. Yet I might know them again, for I never before saw such eyes—so bright, so burning. It was the night that Godfrey and I were trying to find the secret drawer, and those eyes gleamed like fire as they watched us."

M. Armand was gazing at the cabinet, apparently only half listening.

"Ah, yes, the secret drawer," he said. "Will you show me how it is operated, Mr. Lester? I am most curious about it."

I placed my hand upon the table and pressed the three points which the veiled lady had shown us. The first time, I got the order wrong, but at the second trial, the little handle fell forward with a click, and I pulled the drawer open.

"There it is," I said. "You see how cleverly it is constructed. And how well it is concealed. No one would suspect its existence."

He examined it with much interest; pushed it back into place, and then opened it himself.

"Very clever indeed," he agreed. "I have never seen another so well concealed. And the idea of opening it only by a certain combination is most happy and original. Most secret drawers are secret only in name; a slight search reveals them; but this one…."

He pushed it shut again, and examined the inlay around it.

"My friend and I went over the cabinet very carefully and could not find it," I said.

"Your friend—I think you mentioned his name?"

"Yes—his name is Godfrey."

"A man of the law, like yourself?"

"Oh, no, a newspaper man. But he had been a member of the detective force before that. He is extraordinarily keen, and if anybody could have found that drawer, he could. But that combination was too much for him."

M. Armand snapped the drawer back into place with a little crash.

"I am glad, at any rate, that it was discovered," he said. "I will not conceal from you, Mr. Lester, that it adds not a little to the value of the cabinet."

"What is its value?" I asked. "Mr. Vantine wanted me to buy it for him, and named a most extravagant figure as the limit he was willing to pay."

"Really," M. Armand answered, after an instant's hesitation, "I would not care to name a figure, Mr. Lester, without further consultation with my father. The cabinet is quite unique—the most beautiful, perhaps, that M. Boule ever produced. Did you discover Madame de Montespan's monogram?"

"No. Mr. Vantine said he was sure it existed; but Godfrey and I did not look for it."

M. Armand opened the doors which concealed the central drawers.

"Voilà!" he said, and traced with his finger the arabesque just under the pediment. "See how cunningly it has been blended with the other figures. And here is the emblem of the giver." He pointed to a tiny golden sun with radiating rays on the base of the pediment, just above the monogram. "Le roi soleil!"

" Le roi soleil!" I repeated. "Of course. We were stupid not to have discerned it. That tells the whole story, doesn't it? What is it, Parks?" I added, as that worthy appeared at the door.

"There's a van outside, sir," he said, "and a couple of men are unloading a piece of furniture. Is it all right, sir?"

"Yes," I answered. "Have them bring it in here. And ask the man in charge of the inventory to step over here a minute. Mr. Vantine left his collection of art objects to the Metropolitan Museum," I explained to M. Armand, "and I should like the representative of the museum to be present when the exchange is made."

"Certainly," he assented. "That is very just."

Parks was back in a moment, piloting two men who carried between them an object swathed in burlap, and the Metropolitan man followed them in.

"I am Mr. Lester," I said to him, "Mr. Vantine's executor; and this is M. Félix Armand, of Armand & Son, of Paris. We are correcting an error which was made just before Mr. Vantine died. That cabinet yonder was shipped him by mistake in place of one which he had bought. M. Armand has caused the right one to be sent over, and will take away the one which belongs to him. I have already spoken to the museum's attorney about the matter, but I wished you to be present when the exchange was made."

"I have no doubt it is all right, sir," the museum man hastened to assure me. "You, of course, have personal knowledge of all this?"

"Certainly. Mr. Vantine himself told me the story."

"Very well, sir," but his eyes dwelt lovingly upon the Boule cabinet. "That is a very handsome piece," he added. "I am sorry the museum is not to get it."

"Perhaps you can buy it from M. Armand," I suggested, but the curator laughed and shook his head.

"No," he said, "we couldn't afford it. But Sir Caspar might persuade
Mr. Morgan to buy it for us—I'll mention it to him."

The two men, meanwhile, under M. Armand's direction, had been stripping the wrappings from the other cabinet, and it finally stood revealed. It, too, was a beautiful piece of furniture, but even my untrained eye could see how greatly it