The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (the little red hen ebook .TXT) 📖
- Author: Arthur B. Reeve
Book online «The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (the little red hen ebook .TXT) 📖». Author Arthur B. Reeve
Suppose My Questioning Look Betrayed Me.
"A Counterfeit, Walter," Explained Kennedy. "That's What They Do
With Bills When They Wish To Preserve Them As Records In The
Secret Service And Yet Render Them Valueless."
Without A Word Burke Handed Kennedy A Pocket Magnifying-Glass, And
Kennedy Carefully Studied The Bill. He Was About To Say Something
When Burke Opened His Capacious Wallet Again And Laid Down A Bank
Of England Five-Pound Note Which Had Been Similarly Treated.
Again Kennedy Looked Through The Glass With Growing Amazement
Written On His Face, But Before He Could Say Anything, Burke Laid
Down An Express Money-Order On The International Express Company.
"I Say," Exclaimed Kennedy, Putting Down The Glass, "Stop! How
Many More Of These Are There?"
Burke Smiled. "That's All," He Replied, "But It's Not The Worst."
"Not The Worst? Good Heavens, Man, Next You'll Tell Me That The
Government Is Counterfeiting Its Own Notes! How Much Of This Stuff
Do You Suppose Has Been Put Into Circulation?"
Burke Chewed A Pencil Thoughtfully, Jotted Down Some Figures On A
Piece Of Paper, And Thought Some More. "Of Course I Can't Say
Exactly, But From Hints I Have Received Here And There I Should
Think That A Safe Bet Would Be That Some One Has Cashed In Upward
Of Half A Million Dollars Already."
"Whew," Whistled Kennedy, "That's Going Some. And I Suppose It Is
All Salted Away In Some Portable Form. What An Inventory It Must
Be--Good Bills, Gold, Diamonds, And Jewellery. This Is A Stake
Worth Playing For."
"Yes," Broke In O'connor, "But From My Standpoint, Professionally,
I Mean, The Case Is Even Worse Than That. It's Not The
Counterfeits That Bother Us. We Understand That, All Right. But,"
And He Leaned Forward Earnestly And Brought His Fist Down Hard On
The Table With A Resounding Irish Oath, "The Finger-Print System,
The Infallible Finger-Print System, Has Gone To Pieces. We've Just
Imported This New 'Portrait Parle' Fresh From Paris And London,
Invented By Bertillon And All That Sort Of Thing--It Has Gone To
Pieces, Too. It's A Fine Case, This Is, With Nothing Left Of
Either Scientific Or Unscientific Criminal-Catching To Rely On.
There--What Do You Know About That?"
"You'll Have To Tell Me The Facts First," Said Kennedy. "I Can't
Diagnose Your Disease Until I Know The Symptoms."
"It's Like This," Explained Burke, The Detective In Him Showing
Now With No Effort At Concealment. "A Man, An Englishman,
Apparently, Went Into A Downtown Banker's Office About Three
Months Ago And Asked To Have Some English Bank-Notes Exchanged For
American Money. After He Had Gone Away, The Cashier Began To Get
Suspicious. He Thought There Was Something Phoney In The Feel Of
The Notes. Under The Glass He Noticed That The Little Curl On The
'E' Of The 'Five' Was Missing. It's The Protective Mark. The
Water-Mark Was Quite Equal To That Of The Genuine--Maybe Better.
Hold That Note Up To The Light And See For Yourself.
"Well, The Next Day, Down To The Custom House, Where My Office Is,
A Man Came Who Runs A Swell Gambling-House Uptown. He Laid Ten
Brand-New Bills On My Desk. An Englishman Had Been Betting On The
Wheel. He Didn't Seem To Care About Winning, And He Cashed In Each
Time With A New One-Hundred-Dollar Bill. Of Course He Didn't Care
About Winning. He Cared About The Change--That Was His Winning.
The Bill On The Table Is One Of The Original Ten, Though Since
Then Scores Have Been Put Into Circulation. I Made Up My Mind That
It Was The Same Englishman In Both Cases.
Part 3 Chapter 5 (The Confidence King) Pg 46
"Then Within A Week, In Walked The Manager Of The Mozambique
Hotel--He Had Been Stung With The Fake International Express
Money-Order--Same Englishman, Too, I Believe."
"And You Have No Trace Of Him?" Asked Kennedy Eagerly.
"We Had Him Under Arrest Once--We Thought. A General Alarm Was
Sent Out, Of Course, To All The Banks And Banking-Houses. But The
Man Was Too Clever To Turn Up In That Way Again. In One Gambling-
Joint Which Women Frequent A Good Deal, A Classy Dame Who Might
Have Been A Duchess Or A--Well, She Was A Pretty Good Loser And
Always Paid With Hundred-Dollar Bills. Now, You Know Women Are Not
Good Losers. Besides, The Hundred-Dollar-Bill Story Had Got Around
Among The Gambling-Houses. This Joint Thought It Worth Taking A
Chance, So They Called Me Up On The 'Phone, Extracted A Promise
That I'd Play Fair And Keep O'connor From Raiding Them, But
Wouldn't I Please Come Up And Look Over The Dame Of The Yellow
Bills? Of Course I Made A Jump At It. Sure Enough, They Were The
Same Counterfeits. I Could Tell Because The Silk Threads Were
Drawn In With Coloured Ink. But Instead Of Making An Arrest I
Decided To Trail The Lady.
"Now, Here Comes The Strange Part Of It. Let Me See, This Must
Have Been Over Two Months Ago. I Followed Her Out To A Suburban
Town, Riverwood Along The Hudson, And To A Swell Country House
Overlooking The River, Private Drive, Stone Gate, Hedges, Old
Trees, And All That Sort Of Thing. A Sporty-Looking Englishman Met
Her At The Gate With One Of Those Big Imported Touring-Cars, And
They Took A Spin.
"I Waited A Day Or So, But Nothing More Happened, And I Began To
Get Anxious. Perhaps I Was A Bit Hasty. Anyhow I Watched My Chance
And Made An Arrest Of Both Of Them When They Came To New York On A
Shopping Expedition. You Should Have Heard That Englishman Swear.
I Didn't Know Such Language Was Possible. But In His Pocket We
Found Twenty More Of Those Hundred-Dollar Bills--That Was All. Do
You Think He Owned Up? Not A Bit Of It. He Swore He Had Picked The
Notes Up In A Pocketbook On The Pier As He Left The Steamer. I
Laughed. But When He Was Arraigned In Court He Told The Magistrate
The Same Story And That He Had Advertised His Find At The Time.
Sure Enough, In The Files Of The Papers We Discovered In The Lost-
And-Found Column The Ad., Just As He Claimed. We Couldn't Even
Prove That He Had Passed The Bills. So The Magistrate Refused To
Hold Them, And They Were Both Released. But We Had Had Them In Our
Power Long Enough To Take Their Finger-Prints And Get Descriptions
And Measurements Of Them, Particularly By This New 'Portrait
Parle' System. We Felt We Could Send Out A Strange Detective And
Have Him Pick Them Out Of A Crowd--You Know The System, I
Presume?"
Kennedy Nodded, And I Made A Mental Note Of Finding Out More About
The "Portrait Parle" Later.
Burke Paused, And O'connor Prompted, "Tell Them About Scotland
Yard, Tom."
"Oh, Yes," Resumed Burke. "Of Course I Sent Copies Of The Finger-
Prints To Scotland Yard. Within Two Weeks They Replied That One
Set Belonged To William Forbes, A Noted Counterfeiter, Who, They
Understood, Had Sailed For South Africa But Had Never Arrived
There. They Were Glad To Learn That He Was In America, And Advised
Me To Look After Him Sharply. The Woman Was Also A Noted
Character--Harriet Wollstone, An Adventuress."
"I Suppose You Have Shadowed Them Ever Since?" Kennedy Asked.
"Yes, A Few Days After They Were Arrested The Man Had An Accident
With His Car. It Was Said He Was Cranking The Engine And That It
Kicked Back And Splintered The Bone In His Forearm. Anyhow, He
Went About With His Hand And Arm In A Sling."
"And Then?"
Part 3 Chapter 5 (The Confidence King) Pg 47"They Gave My Man The Slip That Night In Their Fast Touring-Car.
You Know Automobiles Have About Made Shadowing Impossible In These
Days. The House Was Closed Up, And It Was Said By The Neighbours
That Williams And Mrs. Williams--As They Called Themselves--Had
Gone To Visit A Specialist In Philadelphia. Still, As They Had A
Year's Lease On The House, I Detailed A Man To Watch It More Or
Less All The Time. They Went To Philadelphia All Right; Some Of
The Bills Turned Up There. But We Saw Nothing Of Them.
"A Short Time Ago, Word Came To Me That The House Was Open Again.
It Wasn't Two Hours Later That The Telephone Rang Like Mad. A
Fifth Avenue Jeweller Had Just Sold A Rope Of Pearls To An
Englishwoman Who Paid For It Herself In Crisp New One-Hundred-
Dollar Bills. The Bank Had Returned Them To Him That Very
Afternoon--Counterfeits. I Didn't Lose Any Time Making A Second
Arrest Up At The House Of Mystery At Riverwood. I Had The County
Authorities Hold Them--And, Now, O'connor, Tell The Rest Of It.
You Took The Finger-Prints Up There."
O'connor Cleared His Throat As If Something Stuck In It, In The
Telling. "The Riverwood Authorities Refused To Hold Them," He Said
With Evident Chagrin. "As Soon As I Heard Of The Arrest I Started
Up Myself With The Finger-Print Records To Help Burke. It Was The
Same Man, All Right--I'll Swear To That On A Stack Of Bibles. So
Will Burke. I'll Never Forget That Snub Nose--The Concave Nose,
The Nose Being The First Point Of Identification In The 'Portrait
Parle.' And The Ears, Too--Oh, It Was The Same Man, All Right. But
When We Produced The London Finger-Prints Which Tallied With The
New York Fingerprints Which We Had Made--Believe It Or Not, But It
Is A Fact, The Riverwood Finger-Prints Did Not Tally At All."
He Laid The Prints On The Table. Kennedy Examined Them Closely.
His Face Clouded. It Was Quite Evident That He Was Stumped, And He
Said So. "There Are Some Points Of Agreement," He Remarked, "But
More Points Of Difference. Any Points Of Difference Are Usually
Considered Fatal To The Finger-Print Theory."
"We Had To Let The Man Go," Concluded Burke. "We Could Have Held
The Woman, But We Let Her Go, Too, Because She Was Not The
Principal In The Case. My Men Are Shadowing The House Now And Have
Been Ever Since Then. But The Next Day After The Last Arrest, A
Man From New York, Who Looked Like A Doctor, Made A Visit. The
Secret-Service Man On The Job Didn't Dare Leave The House To
Follow Him, But As He Never Came Again Perhaps It Doesn't Matter.
Since Then The House Has Been Closed."
The Telephone Rang. It Was Burke's Office Calling Him. As He
Talked We Could Gather That Something Tragic Must Have Happened At
Riverwood, And We Could Hardly Wait Until He Had Finished.
"There Has Been An Accident Up There," He Remarked As He Hung Up
The Receiver Rather Petulantly. "They Returned In The Car This
Afternoon With A Large Package In The Back Of The Tonneau. But
They Didn't Stay Long. After Dark They Started Out Again In The
Car. The Accident Was At The Bad Railroad Crossing Just Above
Riverwood. It Seems Williams's Car Got Stalled On The Track Just
As The Buffalo Express Was Due. No One Saw It, But A Man In A
Buggy Around The Bend In The Road Heard A Woman Scream. He Hurried
Down. The Train Had Smashed The Car To Bits. How The Woman Escaped
Was A Miracle, But They Found The Man's Body Up The Tracks,
Horribly Mangled. It Was Williams, They Say. They Identified Him
By The Clothes And By Letters In His Pockets. But My Man Tells Me
He Found A Watch On Him With 'W.
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