Arthur B. Reeve Crime & Mystery Boxed Set. Arthur B. Reeve
Kennedy. Don't ask me to go anywhere to-night. I am-- I am in no condition to go anywhere--to do anything--I--"
"But you must," said Kennedy in a low voice.
"I can't. Oh--have mercy on me. I am terribly upset. You--"
"It is your duty to go, Mrs. Moulton," he repeated.
"I don't understand." she murmured. "A pawnbroker's?"
"Come," urged Kennedy, not harshly but firmly, then, as she held back, added, playing a trump card, "We must work quickly. In his hands we found the fragments of a torn dress. When the police--"
She uttered a shriek. A glance had told her, if she had deceived herself before, that Kennedy knew her secret.
Antoinette Moulton was standing before him, talking rapidly.
"Some one has told Lynn. I know it. There is nothing now that I can conceal. If you had come half an hour later you would not have found me. He had written to Mr. Schloss, threatening him that if he did not leave the country he would shoot him at sight. Mr. Schloss showed me the letter.
"It had come to this. I must either elope with Schloss, or lose his aid. The thought of either was unendurable. I hated him--yet was dependent on him.
"To-night I met him, in his empty apartment, alone. I knew that he had what was left of his money with him, that everything was packed up. I went prepared. I would not elope. My plan was no less than to make him pay the balance on the necklace that he had lost- -or to murder him.
"I carried a new pistol in my muff, one which Lynn had just bought. I don't know how I did it. I was desperate.
"He told me he loved me, that Lynn did not, never had--that Lynn had married me only to show off his wealth and diamonds, to give him a social! position--that I was merely a--a piece of property-- a dummy.
"He tried to kiss me. It was revolting. I struggled away from him.
"And in the struggle, the revolver fell from my muff and exploded on the floor.
"At once he was aflame with suspicion.
"'So--it's murder you want!' he shouted. 'Well, murder it shall be!'
"I saw death in his eye as he seized my arm. I was defenseless now. The old passion came over him. Before he killed--he--would have his way with me.
"I screamed. With a wild effort I twisted away from him.
"He raised his hand to strike me, I saw his eyes, glassy. Then he sank back--fell to the floor--dead of apoplexy--dead of his furious emotions.
"I fled.
"And now you have found me."
She had turned, hastily, to leave the room. Kennedy blocked the door.
"Mrs. Moulton," he said firmly, "listen to me. What was the first question you asked me? 'Can I trust you?' And I told you you could. This is no time for--for suicide." He shot the word out bluntly. "All may not be lost. I have sent for your husband. Muller is outside."
"Muller?" she cried. "He made the replica."
"Very well. I am going to clear this thing up. Come. You MUST."
It was all confused to me, the dash in a car to the little pawnbroker's on the first floor of a five-story tenement, the quick entry into the place by one of Muller's keys.
Over the safe in back was a framework like that which had covered Schloss' safe. Kennedy tore it away, regardless of the alarm which it must have sounded. In a moment he was down before it on his knees.
"This is how Schloss' safe was opened so quickly," he muttered, working feverishly. "Here is some of their own medicine."
He had placed the peculiar telephone-like transmitter close to the combination lock and was turning the combination rapidly.
Suddenly he rose, gave the bolts a twist, and the ponderous doors swung open.
"What is it?" I asked eagerly.
"A burglar's microphone," he answered, hastily looking over the contents of the safe. "The microphone is now used by burglars for picking combination locks. When you turn the lock, a slight sound is made when the proper number comes opposite the working point. It can be heard sometimes by a sensitive ear, although it is imperceptible to most persons. But by using a microphone it is an easy matter to hear the sounds which allow of opening the lock."
He had taken a yellow chamois bag out of the safe and opened it.
Inside sparkled the famous Moulton diamonds. He held them up--in all their wicked brilliancy. No one spoke.
Then he took another yellow bag, more dirty and worn than the first. As he opened it, Mrs. Moulton could restrain herself no longer.
"The replica!" she cried. "The replica!"
Without a word, Craig handed the real necklace to her. Then he slipped the paste jewels into the newer of the bags and restored both it and the empty one to their places, banged shut the door of the safe, and replaced the wooden screen.
"Quick!" he said to her, "you have still a minute to get away. Hurry--anywhere--away--only away!"
The look of gratitude that came over her face, as she understood the full meaning of it was such as I had never seen before.
"Quick!" he repeated.
It was too late.
"For God's sake, Kennedy," shouted a voice at the street door, "what are you doing here?"
It was McLear himself. He had come with the Hale patrol, on his mettle now to take care of the epidemic of robberies.
Before Craig could reply a cab drew up with a rush at the curb and two men, half fighting, half cursing, catapulted themselves into the shop.
They were Winters and Moulton.
Without a word, taking advantage of the first shock of surprise, Kennedy had clapped a piece of chemical paper on the foreheads of Mrs. Moulton, then of Moulton, and on Muller's. Oblivious to the rest of us, he studied the impressions in the full light of the counter.
Moulton was facing his wife with a scornful curl of the lip.
"I've been told of the paste replica--and I wrote Schloss that I'd shoot him down like the dog he is, you--you traitress," he hissed.
She drew herself up scornfully.
"And I have been told why you married me--to show off your wicked jewels and help you in your--"
"You lie!" he cried fiercely. "Muller--some one--open this safe-- whosever it is. If what I have been told is true, there is in it one new bag containing the necklace. It was stolen from Schloss to whom you sold my jewels. The other old bag, stolen from me, contains the paste replica you had made to deceive me."
It was all so confused that I do not know how it happened. I think it was Muller who opened the safe.
"There is the new yellow bag," cried Moulton, "from Schloss' own safe. Open it."
McLear had taken it. He did so. There sparkled not the real gems, but the replica.
"The devil!" Moulton exclaimed, breaking from Winters and seizing the old bag.
He tore it open and--it was empty.
"One moment," interrupted Kennedy, looking up quietly from the counter. "Seal that safe again, McLear. In it are the Schloss jewels and the products of half a dozen other robberies which the dupe Muller--or Stein, as you please--pulled off, some as a blind to conceal the real criminal. You may have shown him how to leave no finger prints, but you yourself have left what is just as good- -your own forehead print. McLear--you were right. There's your criminal--Lynn Moulton, professional fence, the brains of the thing."
Chapter XIX
The Germ Letter