The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (the little red hen ebook .TXT) 📖

Tried To Read And Could Not.

 

The Train Had Come To A Stop In The Union Station. Our Man Was

Walking Rapidly Up The Platform In The Direction Of The Cab Stand.

Suddenly Kennedy Darted Ahead And For A Moment We Were Walking

Abreast Of Him.

 

"I Beg Your Pardon," Began Craig As We Came To A Turn In The

Shadow Of The Arc Lights,  "But Have You A Match?"

 

The Man Halted And Fumbled For His Match-Box. Instantly Kennedy's

Pocket Handkerchief Was At His Nose.

 

"Some Of The Medicine Of Your Own Gang Of Endormeurs," Ground Out

Kennedy,  Crushing Several Of The Little Glass Globes Under His

Handkerchief To Make Doubly Sure Of Their Effect.

 

The Man Reeled And Would Have Fallen If We Had Not Caught Him

Between Us. Up The Platform We Led Him In A Daze.

 

"Here," Shouted Craig To A Cabman,  "My Friend Is Ill. Drive Us

Around A Bit. It Will Sober Him Up. Come On,  Walter,  Jump In,  The

Air Will Do Us All Good."

 

Those Who Were In Washington During That Summer Will Remember The

Suppressed Activity In The State,  War,  And Navy Departments On A

Certain Very Humid Night. Nothing Leaked Out At The Time As To The

Cause,  But It Was Understood Later That A Crisis Was Narrowly

Averted At A Very Inopportune Season,  For The Heads Of The

Departments Were All Away,  The President Was At His Summer Home In

The North,  And Even Some Of The Under-Secretaries Were Out Of

Town. Hasty Messages Had Been Sizzling Over The Wires In Cipher

And Code For Hours.

 

I Recall That As We Rode A Little Out Of Our Way Past The Army

Building,  Merely To See If There Was Any Excitement,  We Found It A

Blaze Of Lights. Something Was Plainly Afoot Even At This Usually

Dull Period Of The Year. There Was Treachery Of Some Kind And Some

Trusted Employee Was Involved,  I Felt Instinctively. As For Craig

He Merely Glanced At The Insensible Figure Between Us And Remarked

Sententiously That To His Knowledge There Was Only One Nation That

Made A Practice Of Carrying Out Its Diplomatic And Other Coups In

The Hot Weather,  A Remark Which I Understood To Mean That Our

Mission Was More Than Commonly Important.

 

The Man Had Not Recovered When We Arrived Within Several Blocks Of

Our Destination,  Nor Did He Show Signs Of Recovery From His

Profound Stupor. Kennedy Stopped The Cab In A Side Street,  Pressed

A Bill Into The Cabman's Hand,  And Bade Him Wait Until We

Returned.

 

We Had Turned The Corner Of Z Street And Were Approaching The

House When A Man Walking In The Opposite Direction Eyed Us

Suspiciously,  Turned,  And Followed Us A Step Or Two.

 

"Kennedy!" He Exclaimed.

 

If A Fourteen-Inch Gun Had Exploded Behind Us I Could Not Have

Been More Startled. Here,  In Spite Of All Our Haste And Secrecy We

Were Followed,  Watched,  And Beaten.

 

Craig Wheeled About Suddenly. Then He Took The Man By The Arm.

"Come," He Said Quickly,  And We Three Dove Into The Shadow Of An

Alley.

 

As We Paused,  Kennedy Was The First To Speak. "By Jove,  Walter,

It's Burke Of The Secret Service," He Exclaimed.

 

"Good," Repeated The Man With Some Satisfaction. "I See That You

Still Have That Memory For Faces." He Was Evidently Referring To

Our Experiences Together Some Months Before With The Portrait

Part 3 Chapter 9 (The Unofficial Spy) Pg 111

Parle And Identification In The Counterfeiting Case Which Craig

Cleared Up For Him.

 

For A Moment Or Two Burke And Kennedy Spoke In Whispers. Under The

Dim Light From The Street I Could See Kennedy's Face Intent And

Working With Excitement.

 

"No Wonder The War Department Is A Blaze Of Lights," He Exclaimed

As We Moved Out Of The Shadow Again,  Leaving The Secret Service

Man. "Burke,  I Had No Idea When I Took Up This Case That I Should

Be Doing My Country A Service Also. We Must Succeed At Any Hazard.

The Moment You Hear A Pistol Shot,  Burke,  We Shall Need You. Force

The Door If It Is Not Already Open. You Were Right As To The

Street But Not The Number. It Is That House Over There. Come On,

Walter."

 

We Mounted The Low Steps Of The House And A Negress Answered The

Bell. "Is Mr. Gonzales In?" Asked Kennedy.

 

The Hallway Into Which We Were Admitted Was Dark But It Opened

Into A Sitting-Room,  Where A Dim Light Was Burning Behind The

Thick Portieres. Without A Word The Negress Ushered Us Into This

Room,  Which Was Otherwise Empty.

 

"Tell Him Mr. Montez Is Here," Added Craig As We Sat Down.

 

The Negress Disappeared Upstairs,  And In A Few Minutes Returned

With The Message That He Would Be Down Directly.

 

No Sooner Had The Shuffle Of Her Footsteps Died Away Than Kennedy

Was On His Feet,  Listening Intently At The Door. There Was No

Sound. He Took A Chair And Tiptoed Out Into The Dark Hall With It.

Turning It Upside Down He Placed It At The Foot Of The Stairs With

The Four Legs Pointing Obliquely Up. Then He Drew Me Into A Corner

With Him.

 

How Long We Waited I Cannot Say. The Next I Knew Was A Muffled

Step On The Landing Above,  Then The Tread On The Stairs.

 

A Crash And A Deep Volley Of Oaths In French Followed As The Man

Pitched Headlong Over The Chair On The Dark Steps.

 

Kennedy Whipped Out His Revolver And Fired Pointblank At The

Prostrate Figure. I Do Not Know What The Ethics Are Of Firing On A

Man When He Is Down,  Nor Did I Have Time To Stop To Think.

 

Craig Grasped My Arm And Pulled Me Toward The Door. A Sickening

Odour Seemed To Pervade The Air. Upstairs There Was Shouting And

Banging Of Doors.

 

"Closer,  Walter," He Muttered,  "Closer To The Door,  And Open It A

Little,  Or We Shall Both Be Suffocated. It Was The Secret Service

Gun I Shot Off--The Pistol That Shoots Stupefying Gas From Its

Vapour-Filled Cartridges And Enables You To Put A Criminal Out Of

Commission Without Killing Him. A Pull Of The Trigger,  The Cap

Explodes,  The Gunpowder And The Force Of The Explosion Unite Some

Capsicum And Lycopodium,  Producing The Blinding,  Suffocating

Vapour Whose Terrible Effect You See. Here,  You Upstairs," He

Shouted,  "Advance An Inch Or So Much As Show Your Heads Over The

Rail And I Pump A Shot At You,  Too. Walter,  Take The Gun Yourself.

Fire At A Move From Them. I Think The Gases Have Cleared Away

Enough Now. I Must Get Him Before He Recovers Consciousness."

 

A Tap At The Door Came,  And Without Taking My Eyes Off The Stairs

I Opened It. Burke Slid In And Gulped At The Nauseous Atmosphere.

 

"What's Up?" He Gasped. "I Heard A Shot. Where's Kennedy?"

 

I Motioned In The Darkness. Kennedy's Electric Bull's-Eye Flashed

Up At That Instant And We Saw Him Deftly Slip A Bright Pair Of

Manacles On The Wrists Of The Man On The Floor,  Who Was Breathing

Heavily,  While Blood Flowed From A Few Slight Cuts Due To His

Fall.

 

Dexterously As A Pickpocket Craig Reached Into The Man's Coat,

Pulled Out A Packet Of Papers,  And Gazed Eagerly At One After

Another. From Among Them He Unfolded One Written In French To

Madame Marie De Nevers Some Weeks Before. I Translate:

 

Dear Marie: Herr Schmidt Informs Me That His Agent In The War

Department At Washington,  U. S. A.,  Has Secured Some Important

Information Which Will Interest The Government For Which Herr

Schmidt Is The Agent--Of Course You Know Who That Is.

 

It Is Necessary That You Should Carry The Packet Which Will Be

Handed To You (If You Agree To My Proposal) To New York By The

Steamer Tripolitania. Go To The Vandeveer Hotel And In A Few Days,

As Soon As A Certain Exchange Can Be Made,  Either Our Friend In

Washington Or Myself Will Call On You,  Using The Name Gonzales. In

Return For The Package Which You Carry He Will Hand You Another.

Lose No Time In Bringing The Second Package Back To Paris.

 

I Have Arranged That You Will Receive Ten Thousand Francs And Your

Expenses For Your Services In This Matter. Under No Conditions

Betray Your Connection With Herr Schmidt. I Was To Have Carried

The Packet To America Myself And Make The Exchange But Knowing

Your Need Of Money I Have Secured The Work For You. You Had Better

Take Your Maid,  As It Is Much Better To Travel With Distinction In

This Case. If,  However,  You Accept This Commission I Shall

Consider You In Honour Bound To Surrender Your Claim Upon My Name

For Which I Agree To Pay You Fifty Thousand Francs Upon My

Marriage With The American Heiress Of Whom You Know. Please Let Me

Know Immediately Through Our Mutual Friend Henri Duval Whether

This Proposal Is Satisfactory. Henri Will Tell You That Fifty

Thousand Is My Ultimatum,

 

Chateaurouge.

 

"The Scoundrel," Ground Out Kennedy. "He Lured His Wife From Paris

To New York,  Thinking The Paris Police Too Acute For Him,  I

Suppose. Then By Means Of The Treachery Of The Maid Louise And His

Friend Duval,  A Crook Who Would Even Descend To Play The Part Of

Valet For Him And Fall In Love With The Maid,  He Has Succeeded In

Removing The Woman Who Stood Between Him And An American Fortune."

 

"Marie," Rambled Chateaurouge As He Came Blinking,  Sneezing,  And

Choking Out Of His Stupor,  "Marie,  You Are Clever,  But Not Too

Clever For Me. This Blackmailing Must Stop. Miss Lovelace Knows

Something,  Thanks To You,  But She Shall Never Know All--Never--

Never. You--You--Ugh!--Stop. Do You Think You Can Hold Me Back Now

With Those Little White Hands On My Wrists? I Wrench Them Loose--

So--And--Ugh!--What's This? Where Am I?"

 

The Man Gazed Dazedly At The Manacles That Held His Wrists Instead

Of The Delicate Hands He Had Been Dreaming Of As He Lived Over The

Terrible Scene Of His Struggle With The Woman Who Was His Wife In

The Vanderveer.

 

"Chateaurouge," Almost Hissed Kennedy In His Righteous Wrath,

"Fake Nobleman,  Real Swindler Of Five Continents. Marie De Nevers

Alive Stood In The Way Of Your Marriage To The Heiress Miss

Lovelace. Dead,  She Prevents It Absolutely."

 

Craig Continued To Turn Over The Papers In His Hand,  As He Spoke.

At Last He Came To A Smaller Packet In Oiled Silk. As He Broke The

Seal He Glanced At It In Surprise,  Then Hurriedly Exclaimed,

"There,  Burke. Take These To The War Department And Tell Them They

Can Turn Out Their Lights And Stop Their Telegrams. This Seems To

Be A Copy Of Our Government's Plans For The Fortification Of The

Panama Canal,  Heights Of Guns,  Location Of Searchlights,  Fire

Control Stations,  Everything From Painstaking Search Of Official

And Confidential Records. That Is What This Fellow Obtained In

Part 3 Chapter 9 (The Unofficial Spy) Pg 112

Exchange For His False Blue Prints Of The Supposed Coaling Station

On The Pacific.

 

"I Leave The Secret Service To Find The Leak In The War

Department. What I Am Interested In Is Not The Man Who Played Spy

For Two Nations And Betrayed One Of Them. To Me This Adventurer

Who Calls Himself Chateaurouge Is Merely The Murderer Of Madame De

Nevers."