The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3), Arthur B. Reeve [my reading book TXT] 📗
- Author: Arthur B. Reeve
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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 77His 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.
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