The three turned then to the duty in hand.
But it was only a cursory examination of the surroundings that they made, since the doctor and the chief had both already been in that room and had investigated as far as it had been possible or even necessary.
Nick stood back and a little to one side while the two approached the dead girl upon the couch, and for a moment the chief stood looking down upon her with all that adoration which a strong man of middle age feels for a pure young soul such as Edythe Lynne’s had been.
Finally he turned to the detective.
“Mr. Carter,� he said, with slow solemnity, “what I said a moment ago is true. If you had come to me and told me that this girl was dead and that she had killed herself, and that you had seen her do it, I would have told you that you were a liar. She wasn’t the sort that kills herself; not much. So far as I am concerned, the examination is over.�
He hesitated a moment, and then added, with grave dignity:
“What I want to do now, is to find that man that did it. I want to find him.�
“Do you want to find him without fear or favor?� asked the detective quietly.
“I do, sir, without fear or favor. There ain’t no man in all the world that is big enough or great enough, or near enough to me in any way, to get one grain of consideration from me if he did this thing.�
“Very well,â€� said Nick, with quiet decision. “We will find him. I think that I can give you both my word that we will find him within twenty-four hours—or less.â€�
“Do you mean that, Mr. Carter?� the chief exclaimed.
“Yes, I mean it.�
“Would you mind telling me just why you are so plumb certain about it?�
For a moment the detective hesitated. Then he said:
“Chief—and you, doctor, also—if you will be satisfied with a partial explanation for the present, I will make it; but there are reasons, and weighty ones, too, why I would very much prefer to leave the full explanation till later. Will you be satisfied with that, and trust me?â€�
“I will,� said the chief.
“And I, also,� announced the doctor.
“Then I will tell you this much now: This is not the first time I have been in this room since Miss Lynne was killed.�
“Not the first time? Eh? What do you mean by that?� exclaimed the chief.
“That is what I am telling you.�
“All right. Go ahead.�
“Chief, before I went to the station house last night, or very early this morning, I had been here in thisroom. I knew then what you would find when you arrived here with your men.�
“Then why in blazes didn’t you tell me?�
“Because I thought it best to go about the matter in the manner I have done it; and results have demonstrated that I was correct about that.�
“Well, how did you get here, that’s what I want to know?�
“As you know, I was out here on other business last night. It was about two o’clock, or shortly after that, when I passed this way. It was soon after the snow had fallen, but just then no snow was falling at all.�
“Well, well, well?�
“As I was passing the gate I saw tracks in the snow; the tracks of a man and a woman, entering the place, and the tracks of the same man, made in leaving it. At that time the lock on the gate was securely fastened.�
“Fastened? Do you mean that?�
“Yes. It was I who filed through that chain in order to enter here and discover what had happened to the woman who had come into this place, and who had not gone out again.�
“I see. I see.�
“I made my way into the house by picking the lock of the door. I had my flash light with me. I made my way to this room by following the snow tracks on the rugs and carpets, for they had not melted. It was really colder in the house than outside of it.�
“And you found—this?â€�
“Yes. Just as you see it.�
“So you knew, right on the spot, that a man hadcome here with her. You couldn’t track him away from here, could you?�
“I have tracked him away from here, chief. I am almost ready to put my hands upon him; but I haven’t sufficient proof of it yet, and the important thing that I wish to impress upon you both, right now, is that not a word of what I have told you shall be uttered to any person for the present. Will you both agree to that?�
“Surely we will. But, have you told her father about it, Carter?�
“I have just said that not a word of it should be breathed to any person. That included Mr. Lynne, also.�
“Oh; I see. Well, he isn’t to know anything, either, until you get ready to tell it?�
“Not one single idea of any of it. He must not even suppose that I had any knowledge that preceded your own, chief.�
“And the—murderer! Do you really think you have got him dead to rights?â€�
“I really do, chief. I haven’t one single doubt of it.�
“Then all I’ve got to say is that you’re a wonder, Carter.�
“Oh, no, it was circumstance, and chance—largely chance—that made it possible, chief.â€�
“Then thank Heaven for the chance. Say, where are you going to get him? Here? Or in New York?�
“Here, if I can. If not here, then in New York.�
“Do you mean to tell me that the fellow is here in this town?�
“He might be here, or he might be lured here, butwherever he is—no matter where he may be, chief, I will get him. I promise you that.â€�
“Shake hands, Carter. You’re a man after my own heart. You do things, and that’s what I like. And don’t you think that it even occurs to me to be one bit jealous of it all. I am only thanking Heaven that you were here to do it. I wasn’t cut out for a detective. I’m all right as a policeman, but I know my limitations, thank the Lord. And say, Carter.�
“Well?�
“From this out, you take charge of things, will you? You be chief.�
“No; I won’t do that; but if a suggestion occurs to me I will make it to you, and you can give your orders as you see fit. That will be the better way, although I don’t now think there will be any occasion for such exercise of authority.�
“Maybe not.�
“But there is one thing that I want to do at your office at one o’clock.�
The chief looked at his watch and snapped it shut.
“That will be another half hour, yet,� he said. “What is it that you want to do then?�
“I want to sit at the telephone in your private office at the station house, and do some telephoning to one of my assistants in New York—and I want you to sit beside me and listen, without questioning, when I do it.â€�
“That’s all right. What else?�
“I want the doctor here to join with us in a little plot of mine, to help us out.�
“You may count on me, of course,� replied the doctor, who had been listening intently.
“Doctor,â€� said the detective, turning toward him, “I called upon Mr. Lynne at his home in the city this morning. It was my intention to tell him then, more or less, about what I had discovered here—while I was there, chief, your man came and made his report, but I don’t think he saw me.â€�
“Huh; that isn’t strange. He wouldn’t see the moon at night if he wasn’t told to look at it, and then he wouldn’t see all there was of it.�
“Well, Mr. Carter?� said the doctor. “You were about to suggest something to me?�
“Yes. When I went to Mr. Lynne’s house I found him preparing to come out here. He had made all his arrangements to start early. His errand was to take something from a private vault that is built under the north wing.�
The chief nodded as if he understood. The doctor looked surprised.
“When this news was made known to him,� the detective continued, “he asked me to come here with him, and it was while on the way out that he told me about the vault. Now, he intends to visit it before he returns to the city, and for reasons of my own I wish to be with him when he does so. I am quite sure that he will have no objections to that arrangement.�
“I don’t know about that,� interrupted the chief. “He has always been mighty particular about that vault, and it surprises me that he even told you of its existence.�
“Well, he did tell me. The point is this, doctor.�
“Yes?�
“I must go now, with the chief, to the station house to do that telephoning, for that must be attended to, first, if we wish to catch the murderer. Now, if you will play your part in this affair, so that we can ultimately bring the murderer here—we will say, face to face with Mr. Lynne himself—I want you, when we leave this room, to go at once to Mr. Lynne, feel his pulse, and say or do something which will make it imperative—imperative, mind you—that he shall go home to your house with you until I call for him there on my return from the station house.â€�
“I think I understand you,� said the doctor.
“Insist that you must look after his health; that he must have an hour or two of rest while the chief and I are busy about other matters. If he should insist upon returning to this house, come with him. Will you do all that till we return from the station house?�
“Surely. And even if you did not have another reason, the one you have given is already sufficient. He does need the rest and a tonic of some kind.�
“The tonic he will want is brandy, doctor.�
“He was never a drinking man,� said the chief.
“Nevertheless, give him brandy if he wants it, and if it should happen that he has learned to smoke while he was away, offer him a cigar.�
“No use,� said the chief, shaking his head.
“Oh, well, one doesn’t always know. For instance, chief, what would you say if you were told that Mr. Lynne is contemplating a second marriage?�
“I should probably call the man a liar who told it to me,� was the dry response.
“Nevertheless, chief, it is true.�
“What’s that? True? It can’t be. Why, I’ve heard him express himself rather forcibly on that subject, too.�
“Nevertheless, it is true. You have heard of Mrs. Hurd-Babbington? You have seen her out here, haven’t you?�
“Yes.�
“Well, she is the lady in question.�
“You don’t say so.�
“Yes. And it occurs to me that a man who will so thoroughly change his opinions on the subject of marriage might also learn to smoke. And now that we understand one another, shall we go to the station, chief? And will you do your part, doctor?�
Nick Carter was at the telephone in the private office of the chief of the local police.
Chick was at the other end of the wire, and the connection had just been made.
“Chick,� said the detective, “I am in the private office of the chief, here. Where are you?�
“At home,� came the reply over the wire. “It is only half an hour ago that I phoned in, and Joseph told me what was wanted, so I came here.�
“Good. Well, I have some instructions to give you; but before I do that, let me hear anything that you have to tell me.�
“I haven’t anything to tell you that amounts to a hill of beans, Nick. So far as I have been able to determine there is no reason to suppose that Lynne is not all that he appears to be. His life, as far as I have been able to find out anything about it, is as clean as a whistle.�
“I believe that. But have you found any person who knew him intimately? who has known him intimately for a number of years? I would like to find such a person as that.�
“Yes; I have found one, although he isn’t what you’d exactly call a friend—although when fellows like him are faithful, they are mighty good friends to a man.â€�
“To whom are you referring, Chick?�
“To a chap named Tompkins, who used to be butler——â€�
“What?�
“Didn’t you get that?�
“Yes. I got it all right, but are you sure that you mean Tompkins, who used to be butler for Lynne? The right Tompkins, I mean?�
“Of course I am sure.�
“I understood that he was in England.�
“England, nothing! He is right here in New York—and a bright old chap he is, too.â€�
“Glory be, Chick. That is the best news you could have given me. Did you tell Tompkins about the death of Edythe?�
“Yes, and the old man is heartbroken. He wants to go out there, but I told him to wait, and I would let him know whether to go there or wait here to see her. He wants to see her.�
“He shall see her, too; tell him that for me, and go to him at once as soon as you leave the phone. I want you to bring him here, in order that there may be no mistake. Now, is that all you have to tell me?�
“Yes. About all. It is all I think of now.�
“Well, before I give you your instructions, answer me a question. From time to time, during the past four or five years, you remember to have seen many items about J. Cephas Lynne in the newspapers, don’t you?�
“About a thousand of them, more or less, I should say. Why?�
“Do you remember to have seen references to his fondness for smoking?�
“Eh? For smoking?�
“Just that.�
“I remember to have seen a good many statements, mostly made in fun, I think, that he did not smoke because he could not, and that it made him sick to stay in a room where there was much of it; and I remember one circumstance where some friends played a joke upon him and induced him to accompany them to a ‘smoker,’ and that it made him deathly sick, whereupon they guyed the life out of him. Is that what you mean?�
“Precisely. I remembered that, too, but I wanted to be sure that you did, also. But, Chick, Lynne has learned to smoke and to enjoy it, too—and my cigars; and you know how strong they are.â€�
“Uh-huh. I’m on. What else?�
“Now for your instructions.�
“Yes.�
“Do you know where Mrs. Madge Hurd-Babbington lives?�
“I can easily find out. What about it?�
“Now, pay close attention, Chick.�
“Yes.�
“I want you to go now, at once, to Judge Masters, of the General Sessions; tell him that I sent you, and that you are carrying out my orders.�
“Yes.�
“I want you to swear out a warrant before him, on information and belief, and get him to issue it fromthe bench, charging Madge Hurd-Babbington with the crime of murder, in aiding and abetting one Thomas Lynne, former secretary and valet to J. Cephas Lynne, in the actual commission of that crime. Have you got that?�
There was a sharp exclamation, quickly suppressed, from the chief, who was seated near the detective, as Chick replied:
“Yes. I’ve got that. It’s going some, isn’t it?�
“A little. Then swear out a second warrant for Thomas Lynne, for murder—and have them both regular in every particular. Tell the judge that I know exactly whereof I speak; and tell him also that I want the entire matter kept absolutely still until we deliver our prisoners at the headquarters of police in New York City. Have you got all that, straight and regular?â€�
“Yes; but who in the world is Thomas Lynne?�
“You’ll find that out when you get here.�
“What next, Nick?�
“Take my big limousine car, with Danny to drive it. You and Patsy are to ride inside.�
“Yes.�
“Drive to the home of Mrs. Babbington. I don’t think any news about the murder here has leaked out as yet—that is, the papers that contain it will not be on the street before you can attend to all that I tell you to do.â€�
“There is nothing as yet, anyhow.�
“So Mrs. Babbington will listen to what I direct you to tell her.�
“Well?�
“Go to her house with the car. Tell her that Edythe Lynne is dead, out here at Pleasantglades, and that Mr. Lynne is here, very much overcome by what has happened. Say that everything in connection with the death, so far as it can be seen, points to suicide, and that Mr. Lynne is greatly overwrought by it all. Say that he wants her there with him at Pleasantglades at once, and that you have brought the car to take her there. Describe the scene in the room to her, if necessary; about the position of Edythe on the couch, the vial under her right hand on the floor—even the letter, if that should be necessary! Got all that?â€�
“Yes.�
“The point is to induce her to come here with you willingly. I want that done, if it is possible, and I think if you do the right kind of talking, you will have no difficulty.�
“I can do it all right, I think.�
“But, Chick, if she should balk at all, and decline to come, show your warrant, and bring her.�
“I’ll do that, too.�
“While you are after the warrant from the judge, send Patsy after that old butler, Tompkins, and instruct Tompkins to wait for you somewhere along the route you will take after Mrs. Babbington has entered the car with you. If he were out, say at the end of the subway line, waiting for you, that would be the best arrangement.�
“Why?�
“Because the minute she sees him she’ll get a scare,and I want you to have her out of the city, well on the way here, before that happens.�
“I see.�
“Wait a minute, Chick; I’ve got a better idea.�
“Well?�
“Send Ida Jones after Tompkins, or let her go there with Patsy after him; and then let her accompany him to the end of the subway to wait for the car. I don’t want any mistake to happen about getting that old servant here.�
“Why not let Patsy——â€�
“Do it just as I have said, Chick. That will be better and safer.�
“All right.�
“And do it all just as quickly as you know how. I want them both here just as quickly as you can get them here—and you ought to do it all, that is, you ought to get started within two hours at the most.â€�
“I think it can be done in an hour. The only hitch that may occur is that I may not find the woman at home.�
“I think you will find her there, Chick. I think she will be waiting for news. There is no doubt that Lynne communicated with her this morning by telephone, and that she knows now just where he has gone, and is waiting to hear from him.�
“I see.�
“At all events I will make assurance doubly sure and get the chief of police here to telephone to her, as if for Lynne, that he wants her to come out at onceand that a car will call for her to bring her—but I won’t send that message until I think you are about due at her house.â€�
“The car is here at the door now, Nick. Patsy is here beside me, and Ida is in her room, so there will be no delay. I can be at the judge’s chambers in twenty minutes; in twenty more I will have the warrants; in fifteen or twenty more I can be at her house, so if you have the chief do that telephoning in about three-quarters of an hour, I’ll engage to be at the house within fifteen minutes after she gets it.�
“Good. That arranges it nicely.�
“Are you sure that I will find Judge Masters at his chambers?�
“Yes. I know that. I saw him yesterday, and he told me that he would be there all day. I had intended to see him to-day about that other matter of ours; tell him that that is postponed till to-morrow.�
“All right.�
“You may tell him as much about this crime as you have time to tell him. Just give him a general outline of it, so that he will understand how very serious it is.�
“Yes.�
“Just one thing more.�
“Well?�
“When you get here drive straight to Pleasantglades, and to the house. The chief will meet you at the door, and will escort the woman into the house—but I want you and Patsy to keep mighty close to her, in case she should try to do injury to herself when she discovers what she is up against.â€�
“All understood, Nick.�
“That is all. Now, lose no time. Get here as soon as possible. Good-by.�
When the detective turned away from the phone it was to find that the chief was staring wide-eyed at him, while beads of sweat stood out upon his forehead.
“Great Scott, Carter, is all that true?� he cried out, clenching his hands and leaning forward in his chair.
“Yes, chief, it is all true—too true,â€� replied the detective.
And the chief could only stare at the detective, speechlessly.
“Well, Mr. Lynne, are you rested? Are you feeling better now?�
It was the detective who asked the question as they left Doctor Kuhn’s house together, with the doctor accompanying them, to walk the short distance back to Pleasantglades. The chief had gone on alone after the telephoning episode, saying that big as he was he had not the courage yet to meet that man without seizing him by the throat.
“Oh, yes,� said Lynne. “I am beginning to get better control of myself. I am glad that you have come. I want to visit the vault under the north wing, and I rather wanted you to accompany me when I did that.�
“Indeed?� said Nick. “Why so?�
The man shrugged his shoulders, then replied:
“I suppose I am nervous, that is all—and I cannot get it out of my head that somewhere there is an explanation for this sudden act of my daughter’s.â€�
“You don’t expect to find such an explanation in that vault, do you?� demanded the detective, in simulated surprise, for he had already assumed that this was what Lynne did expect to find, for the very good reason that he had arranged it, himself, to be found.
For that, and that only, could explain that paragraphof the letter which still was in hiding in one of Nick Carter’s pockets; that paragraph which was:
“The reasons why I have decided that there is no other way, you will discover soon enough, and you will feel deep regret because I did not go to you and tell you all about it, instead of doing this thing.�
“The reasons why I have decided that there is no other way, you will discover soon enough, and you will feel deep regret because I did not go to you and tell you all about it, instead of doing this thing.�
The clever forger—this man, of course—who had prepared that paragraph, had also prepared the evidence to establish the meaning of it; the evidence to explain what the forged letter pretended to refuse to explain; the thing that was meant to explain why she should kill herself.
Lynne claimed that he had not been at home until the time he stated in telling Nick Carter about it, but it was certain in the mind of the detective that he had been out here to Pleasantglades before he made his presence known in New York at all, and that he had prepared everything for the moment which had now arrived. The only upset in his plans was the strange absence of the letter that he had left on the table in the room where he had committed the murder.
That was, of course, preying upon his mind, but he did not dare to ask about it, since he could have no knowledge of it, and, doubtless, he consoled himself with the idea that the chief had found it and was holding it back for some purpose of his own.
But, when new evidence should be found in the vault that there was a reason why Edythe should have killed herself, then, of course, according to his hopes, the letter would be forthcoming.
So Nick followed him into the north wing of the house; saw him draw aside the circular rug that had been made for the semioctagonal room that was there; saw him insert a key into a lock in that floor and lift a ponderous trapdoor by adjusting a lever concealed in the wainscoating which applied weights to it to pull it up; saw him snap on electric lights from a switch, and then descend iron stairs to the regions below; saw him consult a small book that he carried in his pocket, and then attack the combination locks one after another until he had opened the two outer doors, and then the two inner ones of the vault; saw him step inside and use small, flat keys upon inner compartments of the great safe, for that is what it was, and presently step back again into the presence of the detective, and show him a beautiful string of pearls, which he drew slowly and lovingly through his hands.
“This is what I came here to get—what I was coming here to get, to give to Mrs. Babbington for her birthday,â€� he said. “Is it not exquisite?â€�
“It certainly is,� replied the detective.
Then Lynne left the pearls in the detective’s hands, and returned to the interior of the great safe.
“There are some securities that I think I will take away with me, now that I am here,â€� he remarked, as if casually, and he opened another compartment inside the safe—and Nick felt that the moment had arrived.
It had.
Lynne suddenly started back a half-suppressed exclamation; then he cried out, with all the theatrical art that he possessed:
“No, no! It is not possible! I will not believe it. Oh! oh! oh! This is the worst blow of all!� Then he turned slowly around, and added, as one who is overcome by sorrow: “Mr. Carter, I am very sorry now that I brought you here. I might have hidden all this, and now you must know. Look. Come here and look. It is best that you should.�
The compartment into which the detective peered when he stepped forward was about half filled with bonds, which Nick saw at a glance were negotiable ones; and on the top of them, unfolded, face up, was a short note in that same hand that had written the letter found in the room of death. Here was the evidence, then, that the fiend had prepared. The note was:
“Forgive me, papa. I have only taken half, but I had to do so. I will not tell you why, only that it was not for myself, but for another. I would die rather than that you should know all the truth, and I have partly determined to die before you can know it.“Edythe.�
“Forgive me, papa. I have only taken half, but I had to do so. I will not tell you why, only that it was not for myself, but for another. I would die rather than that you should know all the truth, and I have partly determined to die before you can know it.
“Edythe.�
So this fiend in human guise, not content with taking the life of that beautiful girl, that pure, sweet, young life, had attempted to steal her honor also, and had not hesitated to cast an unthinkable imputation upon her, even then.
Nick shut his fingers tightly together to keep himself from seizing the monster by the throat then and there.
But he controlled himself so that Lynne saw nothing of the danger he was in; and he reached into thecompartment and took the note, folded it, and put it into his pocket.
“We must keep that out of sight for the present, Lynne,� he said, in explanation of his act. “Come; let us get out of here. The place gives me the shivers.�
As one who is bent and torn by grief unbearable, Lynne followed Nick up the stairs, after closing and locking the doors of the vault; and in that same attitude of a stricken man, he followed the detective through the north wing to the main part of the house—and they arrived at the front door just as an automobile drove into the inclosure and under the porte-cochère.
He did not even raise his eyes to discover who had arrived, since that was not in keeping with the part he was playing, and so he did not notice that it was Mrs. Babbington who was assisted from it, for Nick quickly turned him about and led him toward the room where the body of Edythe had not yet been disturbed.
The chief had his instructions from Nick, and would carry them out; and, true enough, it was only a moment later when Nick heard footsteps following them along the corridor.
The detective led Lynne into the room of death, partly closing the door after him—and a moment later it was pushed wider open again, and Mrs. Babbington stepped into the room with all the assured presence of the woman of fashion that she was.
Nick had turned Lynne so that he faced the door, and the sudden start and the awful gasp of terror thathe gave when he saw and recognized the woman, could not be described.
“You, you, you!� he cried out, and she was startled, too, by his vehemence, which she had not anticipated, of course, since she believed that he expected her.
But before she could reply, or even make a gesture, a still more dramatic thing happened.
An old man, white and uncertain on his feet with age, pushed himself forward. He thrust out his right arm and pointed an accusing finger at the trembling man who faced him.
“You are not my master, Mr. J. Cephas Lynne; you are Thomas Lynne, his servant!â€� he half shouted in a voice that choked with rage. “And you murdered that girl—my beautiful little Edythe, whom I carried in my arms from the time that she was born. Oh, you—you——â€�
Shaking off restraint, he sprang at the throat of the man who cowered before him, and he would have reached him, too, had not Nick Carter interposed himself between them.
But Nick did another thing at that instant; he seized Lynne, whirled him about and snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists, and then he flung him into a chair near the chief, who had followed into the room; and the chief stood over the man, with his hands clenched tightly, as if he would have enjoyed tearing him apart.
And there was another sharp click that sounded in the room at the same instant, made by Patsy as hepulled Mrs. Babbington’s hands behind her, and snapped handcuffs upon her white wrists as well.
She shrieked out, then tottered; and then stood upright again at the sound of a shrill laugh from Lynne that was almost a snarl.
“They’ve got you, too, anyhow!â€� he yelled at her. “I won’t be alone in this. Look, Carter, she knew it all from the first. She recognized me at once when I went where she was, in Scotland. She had heard of my supposed death, and, when she saw me, she knew that I had killed my cousin Cephas. Oh, yes, she knew it, and she made the most of it. She made me say that I would marry her, and that she should share the fortune—and it was she, she, I tell you, who planned the murder of that poor girl on the couch. I didn’t want to do it, and I would not have done it, only that I saw she suspected me. She could not believe that her father would change so greatly in so short a time. Even when I had lured her here—Madge was with us last night in that car when we came here, and I took her home afterward—even when I had lured her here—— Oh, well, what is the use. I succeeded in inducing her to come here. She still thought I was her father, and that the accident and the illness had changed me; she trusted me, and I brought her in here, and I killed her. Now you have it. It is the truth, but that woman made me do it. And I forged a letter that I put on that table. I was always an expert penman, Carter. Cephas took me out of a prison when I went to him, and if it had not been for him I would have been back there again long before this, for another forgery. I wrote thatnote, too, that you have got in your pocket, that we found in the vault. Oh, I can write things; I can write things.â€�
The woman in the meantime had regained control of herself.
“The man is mad,� she said coldly. “I know nothing of the things he is talking about.�
“Mrs. Babbington,� said Nick slowly, “the man is not mad, and you do know all about the things he is talking about. More, I can prove many of them now, and will prove all of them within a week. Take her away, Chick, back to New York, and to headquarters. The chief and I will attend to this unspeakable scoundrel. You have the warrants?�
“Yes.�
“That is sufficient, then. Serve them now.�
Juries are not inclined to convict a beautiful woman unless the evidence offered against her is entirely convincing; and, even then, it is done with reluctance, and usually with a strong recommendation to the judge for mercy and leniency.
The testimony against her must be of the best, and it must be direct, for the germ of chivalry dwells in the soul of every man, and there is always present in his conscience that instinctive reluctance to condemn any woman, whatever her crimes may have been, to the utmost penalty of the law. Circumstantial evidence has sent many a man to the death penalty, but where will you find that it has done so in the case of a woman—and particularly a beautiful woman who still possesses that greatest of all attractions—youth?
It was so in the Babbington case—in that great case which attracted such world-wide notice at the time of the trial—the prosecution of Madge Hurd-Babbington for murder in the first degree, in that she was charged—so the indictment read—with having instigated, aided, and abetted one Thomas Lynne, who posed for the time under the name of his cousin, J. Cephas Lynne, in committing the deliberate and premeditated murder of Edythe Lynne, only daughter and heiress of the said J. Cephas Lynne.
The jury had been out barely half an hour when it returned to ask a question of the presiding judge. The foreman asked:
“Your honor, we wish to know if this defendant could be convicted of any crime less than that which is charged in the indictment?�
The judge replied instantly:
“No. This is an extraordinary case, gentlemen. The indictment charges explicitly that the defendant ‘instigated, aided, and abetted’ another in the commission of a crime; it does not charge that she had any hand in the actual commission of that crime. If you find that she ‘instigated, aided, and abetted’ the man who actually committed the crime, and who has already been convicted in this court for that offense, she is as guilty as he; but, unless you do so find, she is not guilty. You may retire now for further deliberation.�
“That, your honor,� replied the foreman, “is now unnecessary. We find the defendant not guilty!�
After that the usual formalities of the court in discharging a prisoner were quickly disposed of, and the beautiful Madge Babbington turned a derisively smiling face for one instant upon Nick Carter, as she passed, unattended, from the courtroom to the street.
The district attorney, who had personally conducted the case, remarked, in a low tone, to the detective:
“It is no more than I expected, Carter.�
“It is precisely what I did expect,� replied Nick, with a shrug of his shoulders.
“If it had been proved that she actually administered the poison to Edythe Lynne, she might have beenconvicted,â€� said the lawyer, with a dubious smile; “but anything short of that——â€� He paused, with the sentence unfinished; then added, somewhat irrelevantly: “She is an astonishingly beautiful woman, Nick.â€�
“I think you have made use of the precise adverbial adjective,� replied the detective dryly. “Her beauty is exactly of the type that is astonishing.�
“Or overwhelming; possibly that would be a better word, Nick.�
“No; you were correct in the first instance. She took those twelve men by storm, from the foreman to number twelve. They never had a chance to do anything but what they did do. She fascinated them, and so compelled them.�
“Hypnotized them, you mean.�
“Not at all. There was no hypnotism about it.�
“Then what?�
“What I have already called it—fascination. The compelling force of a style and type of beauty which no man among them has ever seen before; the——â€�
“Nor any other man,� interpolated the lawyer.
“The grace, strength, and the ferocity of a tigress molded into the form of a woman,� the detective continued, as if he had not been interrupted.
The lawyer slapped his thigh with emphasis.
“You struck the keynote there, Nick!� he exclaimed. “The grace, strength, and ferocity of a tigress. I often wondered, during the trial, what her eyes reminded me of. I know now, for I have seen the same sort of eyes through the bars of cages at the Bronx Zoo; great, sleepy, tawny eyes, that peer out at one so mildlyand half drowsily, and almost unseeingly, but into which a veritable living flame may leap at any instant, burning, consuming, destroying. She doesn’t like you, Nick.�
“No; evidently not.�
“I saw that glance she gave you as she passed out. I am rather glad it wasn’t directed at me.�
“Why?�
“I should confess myself afraid.�
“Afraid of her?�
“Afraid of her eyes, rather.�
The detective shrugged again, but made no reply in words. The lawyer continued:
“Her vengeance against you, if she ever seeks one, will be unusual.�
“I fancy that she has something else to think about, than vengeance, just now,� replied the detective, with a smile.
“Tigers have long memories for an injury done to them, Nick. The superintendent up at the Zoo told me that only the other day. He said——â€�
“You seem to be fond of visiting the Zoo,� the detective interrupted, smiling again.
“I am. The place fascinates me, especially the cages which confine the tigers and the lions. Did you ever notice, Nick, how the lions will look straight out over your head, and never once into your eyes, and how they look as if they could see the wilderness where they were born?�
“Yes, often.�
“But the tigers—ah! they will look into one’s eyesat times; mildly at first, but if one returns that gaze their eyes will flame. I have dodged more than once, Nick, before the white-hot fire of hate I have seen in the eyes of a tiger, and I have walked away, afraid to remain.â€�
“You should keep away from the Zoo, old chap; it isn’t good for you,� said the detective, laughing aloud.
“Perhaps not. I feel, just now, as if I had been gazing through the bars of an iron cage into the eyes of an enraged tigress.�
Nick Carter laughed again.
“Well, at all events,� he said, “this tigress is now at liberty, and with the opportunity to do whatsoever she wills. Come, let’s get out of here. There is better air to breathe outside.�
Passing through the corridor toward the elevator, the district attorney continued the subject.
“Have you any idea what she will do, Nick?� he asked.
“No. At the present moment the subject does not interest me.�
“She will do something.�
“Naturally.�
“To get square with you, I mean.�
“I doubt that. She has too much else to think about.�
“What, for example?�
“Well, she is practically penniless, from her point of view—for her requirements are of the extravagant order. She still has an income sufficient to keep anordinarily large family in comfort, but it is totally inadequate for her wants.â€�
“And she blames you for that, Nick.�
“Possibly, although, as a matter of fact, it is no fault of mine, save that she would by now have been the possessor of the Lynne millions if I had not found those tracks in the snow out at Pleasantglades.�
“So, of course, she attributes all her present misfortunes to you.�
“Likely enough.�
“She has also lost her social position, Nick—which was rather an enviable one. She will be ostracized now by all the people who were overjoyed to receive her before this happened. She will lay that at your door, too.â€�
“I suppose so.�
“In a way, that is a greater loss to her than the failure to obtain possession of the fortune. She loses the opportunity for——â€�
“For everything.�
“Yes, for everything in the social world—her world; the one to which she was born.â€�
“You mistake. She was not born to it.�
“No; but she has always lived in it. You have deprived her of the two things which she has striven all her life to attain—wealth and social prominence.â€�
“On the contrary, she deprived herself of them.�
“That is begging the question. I asked you a little bit ago if you had any idea what she would do now. You replied that the subject did not interest you. It interests me.�
The detective turned a smiling face toward his friend.
“Well,� he said, “have you formed an opinion about it?�
“A very decided one, Nick.�
“Good. Let’s hear what it is.�
“She will go straight to—’hem!—to the devil, by the shortest route. I don’t mean in the sense in which that expression is generally used. I speak in the criminal sense. She is outside the law now. Society has turned against her, and she will take it out of society, if I am any judge of character. She was born with criminal instincts, dormant until now, but brought to the surface and made prominent by this episode in her life. She has become an Ishmaelite, with the hand of every man and woman against her, and her hand against all the world. If she had any morals of honesty, integrity, and uprightness before this thing happened, they have been burned to white ashes since the beginning of this trial. The place where she kept them is a cavity, a vacuum, now. From having been a beautiful ornament to the society which she adorned she has become a man-eating tigress to prey upon it; a parasite to cling to it, to grow and fatten upon it, and ultimately to smother and destroy the creatures who will afford her sustenance. The woman has gone out of her, Nick; the tigress has got inside. Beware of her, Nick. She hates you, and she will find a way—an unusual one, too, I think—to do you harm.â€�
“I declare, old chap, you are weaving quite a romance.�
“I am speaking earnestly, Nick.�
“Oh, I believe you; but I think you are trying to make a mountain out of a molehill.�
“Do you? Perhaps I am. But, all the same, I am mighty glad that she did not look at me in the manner she glanced toward you as she passed out of that courtroom. Beware of her, Nick, lest when she is next called upon to face a jury, charged with murder, you are not the victim of the crime.�
“The Babbington case!�
One heard those three words on the cars, in the streets, in the corridors of hotels, in parlors and dining rooms, across the breakfast table, in the lobby at the theater—everywhere one went one heard the repetition of those three words, “the Babbington case.â€�
One of the columns on the front page of every paper, morning and evening, was sure to be headed by those three words, or by others which conveyed precisely the same meaning.
Always the Babbington case; everywhere the Babbington case.
It was the talk of the town, and of a dozen other towns; newspapers in Europe received cabled reports of it. The reputation of it was world-wide. It was discussed in Paris and in London, as well as in New York and Newport, Lenox and Lakewood. The Babbington case absorbed the interest of the hour in all quarters, and in almost every walk of life.
Nick Carter confessed to himself that he had never before been instrumental in bringing a case to justice that received quite the amount of attention and comment that the Babbington case was getting.
Her lawyers had put in a masterly defense, and they were great lawyers, who were familiar with every quipand trick of a court trial. Nick Carter had no doubt that the woman would go free, notwithstanding the fact that he personally knew her to be as guilty of the crime as the man who had actually committed it. Therefore he was not surprised when the foreman of the jury pronounced the two words which set her free:
“Not guilty.�
There were cheers in the courtroom, and some hisses, at the pronouncement; both quickly suppressed by the court officers.
The law was guilty of no delay in its dealings with Thomas Lynne. Before Mrs. Babbington was brought to trial, Thomas Lynne had been tried, convicted, and sentenced to death.
In her defense Mrs. Babbington admitted meeting the murderer in Scotland, and becoming engaged to him, but insisted that she had no idea that it was not J. Cephas Lynne, the father of Edythe, to whom she had become engaged, and that she believed, as others had been led to believe, that it was the valet and not the master who had died so suddenly in Switzerland.
The jury chose to credit her story rather than to believe the theory of the prosecution. That is the whole story of the crime, the trial, and the acquittal.
Such was the end of that other chapter of crime and sorrow and sudden death; and such is the beginning of the present history which we have chosen to call “The Babbington Case,� because it all came about in a measure as a consequence of that trial.
There is an old maxim in criminology: “Once acriminal, always a criminal.� We do not indorse that theory, by any means, not even in the abstract; but it is certain that we would indorse it if it were written to read: “Once a criminal, frequently a criminal again.�
Madge Babbington, as she was addressed by her intimates, was the type of woman who could never be classed with criminals, but Nick Carter, as he watched her during the trial, came to believe that she had developed traits during that interval in Scotland when the Lynne millions were the lure, and during the interval of her arrest and the weeks consumed in her trial, which, though dormant till now, would shape her whole future life.
Criminal traits are sometimes inherited, and when they appear suddenly, as in the case of the Babbington woman, inheritance is the most logical explanation of their presence; and, although they may have been dormant, and never once suspected, even by the possessor of them, for years, once inherited criminal tendencies obtain the upper hand in a character, they are there to stay.
And this was the manner in which Nick Carter read the character of Madge Babbington.
He had been at some pains, before the trial, to look up her antecedents, and he had found that Madge Morton-Hurd-Babbington had had a checkered and none too pleasant career.
Her father had once been an officer in the British army in India, where she was born. He had been handsome and skillful—more skillful with cards thanwith arms, as it proved. He had gone wrong; had been cashiered and dismissed from the service; had become an adventurer, traveling over Europe as a professional gambler, and had dragged with him his young daughter, then a mere child, whose mother had long ago deserted them both.
There you have it.
When Madge Morton’s father finally shot himself rather than stand trial for a forgery he had committed, the daughter had taken to singing in music halls, and from there had drifted into the “legitimate,� and her talents had quickly taken her to the top.
She became a star, and accepted a season’s engagement in New York, where she met Hurd, and married him. A divorce followed, and she married Babbington, who died very soon afterward.
But her two marriages had brought her a competence, although not wealth. But both of them had given her something that was quite as dear to her soul as money, and that was an entrance to and an assured position in the very cream of society.
And she was only twenty-five years old two months before the time the jury pronounced for her benefit those two magic words, “not guilty.�
The lawyers who had managed the affairs of J. Cephas Lynne had in their possession his last will and testament, which left everything that he died owning to his daughter Edythe; and, as she had actually been alive some months after her father’s death, she had inherited the immense wealth without being aware of it.
But she had died leaving no will, and now the lawyers were vainly trying to find an orphaned nephew of J. Cephas Lynne, of whom they had some faint knowledge, but who had long ago disappeared from sight and from the knowledge of his uncle, somewhere in the West.
And Nick Carter had been waiting only for the end of the trial of Madge Babbington to take up the search for the lost nephew for the lawyers.
It was necessary that Carleton Lynne should be found without delay, or that proof of his death also should be established, in order that the great estate of the dead millionaire might be administered, and so, when the verdict was pronounced, it being only three o’clock in the afternoon, the detective turned his steps in the direction of the lawyers’ offices, to tell them that he was ready to go ahead.
When he ascended in the elevator of the building where the lawyers were located, he noticed a young man who left it at the same floor he did, and who walked ahead of him to the same door he was seeking, and that young man announced himself, once he was inside the offices, as Carleton Lynne, from Idaho, just arrived, having seen one of the advertisements in a newspaper he had picked up by chance.
And possibly this story might better have been entitled “The Mystery of Carleton Lynne,� for at that moment when the young man announced himself began the birth of a new mystery.
The clerk in the law office who received the rather startling announcement of the identity of the stranger, also perceived and recognized Nick Carter, who entered the office immediately behind the man.
His impulsive assumption was, of course, that the two had come there together, and that in some manner the detective had found trace of the man for whom advertisements had been spread broadcast through the country.
But a quick, warning glance from the detective warned the clerk that such was not the case; and then followed the statement of the man who called himself Carleton Lynne that he was there only because of an advertisement he had seen in a Western paper.
Nick Carter, who was still behind the younger man, nodded his head significantly toward the clerk and, with a jerk of his thumb toward a chair, indicated that the stranger should be requested to take a seat and wait until he could be received in the inner office; and at the same time his lips noiselessly formed the one word, “Wait.�
The clerk saw and understood.
Stepping forward quickly, he said, with the utmost graciousness:
“Glad to see you, Mr. Lynne. Our advertisementshave been spread rather generously throughout the West, in the hope that you might see one of them, and so communicate with this firm. We scarcely expected to see you in person so soon. Will you be seated? Mr. Oaks will see you presently. He happens to be engaged just now.�
He indicated a chair, and then, without waiting for a response to his invitation, gave his attention to Nick Carter, who had taken the opportunity to cross to one of the windows, where he now stood with his back toward Carleton Lynne.
The clerk, carrying out the part which he had comprehended by the slight signal that had been flashed to him by the detective, spoke to him in a comparatively low tone, but yet so that the caller could hear the words.
“Please step right inside, to the private office, sir,� he said. “Mr. Oaks is awaiting you with some impatience. You are late.�
The detective replied only with a curt nod, although he smiled inwardly at the ready wit of the clerk, who had understood him so perfectly.
He passed quickly through the doorway into the private office, and closed the door quickly behind him, finding himself in the presence of the great lawyer, who was at that moment engaged in dictating his correspondence to his secretary, and who raised his eyes to the detective with a distinct frown of displeasure at being so unceremoniously interrupted.
“I am sorry, Oaks,â€� said Nick, speaking quickly. “I know that you do not like interruptions when you areoccupied with your correspondence; but in this case the end justifies the means. Carleton Lynne is—out there.â€� He jerked a thumb toward the outer office.
The frown left the lawyer’s face, and an expression of perplexed interest took its place.
“What?â€� he said. “Carleton Lynne—the heir?â€�
The detective nodded, and added:
“That is how he announced himself. He came up in the elevator with me; he entered your office door just in front of me, and—well, I wanted to see you before he did.â€�
“Quite right, Carter—quite right. I’m glad you came right in. Miss McQueen, you may go into the library for a few moments, please.â€� This to the stenographer, who left her chair at once and passed through a half-opened doorway opposite the one by which the detective had entered the room; nor did she close it after her, as it happened, although neither of the men regarded that fact as one of importance at the moment.
“Well?� said the lawyer, as soon as he was alone with the detective.
“I have already told you all there is to say about the arrival of Carleton Lynne,� replied Nick Carter. “You know, now, as much about that interesting fact as I do.�
“Then what?�
“I have come here directly from the courthouse and from the finish of the Babbington case. I thought I would get here before the news was being cried aloud on the streets.�
“An acquittal, Carter?�
“Yes.�
“It is no more than you expected—it is what you anticipated, isn’t it?â€�
“Precisely.�
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
“Oh, well,â€� he said, “what of it? Thomas Lynne has been convicted, and will die for the two crimes he has committed. While there is no doubt that the woman was an accessory, before and after the fact, I’m rather glad—that is to say, I am not sorry—er—that she—— Oh, confound it! One doesn’t like to see a beautiful woman condemned to death, or even sent to prison for the rest of her life.â€�
The detective smiled enigmatically.
“I perceive that you have fallen under the spell of her witchery, as well as others, Oaks,� he said.
“Nonsense! I——â€�
“I remember that the last time I was here you told me that you had received a request from her to call upon her at the Tombs. I recall, also, that you stated that you should not go to see her. Am I to understand that you changed your mind and went there?�
“Yes. She sent me a second message, and I went to see her. Where was the harm in that, Carter?�
“That, my dear Mr. Oaks, is for you to say; only it would appear from what you have just said that she has fascinated you, as well as the twelve men who held her fate in their hands.�
“That is all utter nonsense, of course,� replied the lawyer, with a frown.
“Is it? I am not so sure of that. Did you go alone?�
“No; I took my secretary with me.�
“The young woman who just left this room?�
“Yes; Miss McQueen. I was glad that I had done so, too, for Mrs. Babbington wished to dictate some letters, which I instructed Miss McQueen to remain and take for her; on condition, of course, that the district attorney should be shown copies of the letters before they were sent away.�
“I see. How long did Miss McQueen remain with Mrs. Babbington after you came away?�
“Not above an hour—less than that, I think. There were only four letters. I have copies of them here. Would you care to see them, Carter?â€�
“No. For what purpose, now that the woman has been acquitted? Were copies of them sent to the district attorney?�
“Yes. They were unimportant. Merely letters to her former society friends, in which she stated that, whether she should be convicted or acquitted, she renounced all claims to her former social status.�
“Rather an unnecessary announcement, that, don’t you think?� remarked the detective, with a slow smile.
“Perhaps—under the circumstances,â€� replied the lawyer.
The detective leaned back in his chair and lighted a cigar, which he took from one of his pockets. After a moment, he said:
“When the verdict was announced, the district attorney and I spent a few moments together, discussing the woman. We were quite agreed on one point concerning her—and, after what you have just said, I haven’t the slightest doubt that you will agree with us, too.â€�
“Concerning what, Carter?�
“The woman’s eyes. They seem to have had a strange effect upon you.�
“Look here, Carter, what are you driving at?�
“The district attorney and I agreed that the woman, Mrs. Madge Morton-Hurd-Babbington by name, has wonderful eyes, which in repose are like the eyes of a captive and sleepy tigress, and which can flame into burning hate, also, like the eyes of an enraged tigress. The district attorney assured me that her eyes had a strange and paralyzing effect upon him, hardened as he is in the practice of criminal prosecution. Ergo, you did not escape the paralyzing effect of them, Oaks.�
“What the dev——â€�
“The proof of it lies in the fact that you consented, at her request, to come away from her cell in the tombs and leave your stenographer there alone with her.�
“What possible harm could befall Miss McQueen under such circumstances, Carter? Because the woman was charged with murder, and because you believed her guilty, and still believe her so, is it any reason to suppose that she would do violence to a young woman who was left for a few moments alone with her?�
Nick Carter shrugged his shoulders, and did not reply to the question.
Instead, he permitted his gaze to wander for amoment toward the half-open door between the private office of the great lawyer and the library, and then he abruptly changed the subject.