The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (top 10 motivational books .txt) 📕

The Handwriting Of The First One Bears A Peculiar Resemblance To

That Of Miss Wend,  While The Second And Third,  Though Disguised

Also,  Greatly Suggest The Handwriting Of Miss Wend's

Correspondent."

No One Moved. But I Sat Aghast. She Had Been A Part Of The

Conspiracy,  After All,  Not A Pawn. Had They Played Fair?

"Taking Up Next The Remarkable Succession Of Fires," Resumed

Kennedy,  "This Case Presents Some Unique Features. In Short,  It Is

A Clear Case Of What Is Known As A 'Firebug Trust.' Now Just What

Is A Firebug Trust? Well,  It Is,  As Near As I Can Make Out,  A

Combination Of Dishonest Merchants And Insurance Adjusters Engaged

In The Business Of Deliberately Setting Fires For Profit. These

Arson Trusts Are Not The Ordinary Kind Of Firebugs Whom The

Firemen Plentifully Damn In The Fixed Belief That One-Fourth Of

All Fires Are Kindled By Incendiaries. Such 'Trusts' Exist All

Over The Country. They Have Operated In Chicago,  Where They Are

Said To Have Made Seven Hundred And Fifty Thousand Dollars In One

Year. Another Group Is Said To Have Its Headquarters In Kansas

City. Others Have Worked In St. Louis,  Pittsburgh,  Cleveland,  And

Buffalo. The Fire Marshals Of Illinois,  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  And

Ohio Have Investigated Their Work. But Until Recently New York Has

Been Singularly Free From The Organised Work Of This Sort. Of

Course We Have Plenty Of Firebugs And Pyromaniacs In A Small Way,

But The Big Conspiracy Has Never Come To My Personal Attention

Before.

"Now,  The Jones-Green Fire,  The Quadrangle Fire,  The Slawson

Building Fire,  And The Rest,  Have All Been Set For One Purpose--To

Collect Insurance. I May As Well Say Right Here That Some People

Are In Bad In This Case,  But That Others Are In Worse. Miss Wend

Was Originally A Party To The Scheme. Only The Trouble With Miss

Wend Was That She Was Too Shrewd To Be Fooled. She Insisted That

She Have Her Full Share Of The Pickings. In That Case It Seems To

Have Been The Whole Field Against Miss Wend,  Not A Very Gallant

Thing,  Nor Yet According To The Adage About Honour Among Thieves.

"A Certain Person Whose Name I Am Frank To Say I Do Not Know--Yet-

-Conceived The Idea Of Destroying The Obligations Of The Stacey

Companies To Miss Wend As Well As The Incriminating Evidence Which

She Held Of The 'Firebug Trust,' Of Which She Was A Member Up To

This Time. The Plan Only Partly Succeeded. The Chief Coup,  Which

Was To Destroy The Stacey Store Into The Bargain,  Miscarried.

"What Was The Result? Miss Wend,  Who Had Been Hand In Glove With

The 'Trust,' Was Now A Bitter Enemy,  Perhaps Would Turn State's

Evidence. What More Natural Than To Complete The Conspiracy By

Carrying Out The Coup And At The Same Time Get Rid Of The

Dangerous Enemy Of The Conspirators? I Believe That Miss Wend Was

Lured Under Some Pretext Or Other To The Stacey Store On The Night

Of The Big Fire. The Person Who Wrote The Second And Third 'A.

Spark' Letters Did It. She Was Murdered With This Deadly

Instrument"--Craig Laid The Letter-File On The Table--"And It Was

Planned To Throw The Entire Burden Of Suspicion On Her By

Asserting That There Was A Shortage In The Books Of Her

Department."

"Pooh!" Exclaimed Stacey,  Smoking Complacently At His Cigar. "We

Have Been Victimised In Those Fires By People Who Have Grudges

Against Us,  Labour Unions And Others. This Talk Of An Arson Trust

Is Bosh--Yellow Journalism. More Than That,  We Have Been

Systematically Robbed By A Trusted Head Of A Department,  And The

Fire At Stacey's Was The Way The Thief Took To Cover--Er--Her

Stealings. At The Proper Time We Shall Produce The Bookkeeper

Douglas And Prove It."

Kennedy Fumbled In The Drawer Of The Desk,  Then Drew Forth A Long

Strip Of Paper Covered With Figures. "All The Stacey Companies,"

He Said,  "Have Been Suffering From The Depression That Exists In

The Trade At Present. They Are Insolvent. Glance Over That,

Stacey. It Is A Summary Of The Preliminary Report Of The

Accountants Of The District Attorney Who Have Been Going Over Your

Books To-Day."

Stacey Gasped. "How Did You Get It? The Report Was Not To Be Ready

Until Nine O'clock,  And It Is Scarcely A Quarter Past Now."

"Never Mind How I Got It. Go Over It With The Adjusters,  Anybody.

I Think You Will Find That There Was No Shortage In Miss Wend's

Department,  That You Were Losing Money,  That You Were In Debt To

Miss Wend,  And That She Would Have Received The Lion's Share Of

The Proceeds Of The Insurance If The Firebug Scheme Had Turned Out

As Planned."

"We Absolutely Repudiate These Figures As Fiction," Said Stacey,

Angrily Turning Toward Kennedy After A Hurried Consultation.

"Perhaps,  Then,  You'll Appreciate This," Replied Craig,  Pulling

Another Piece Of Paper From The Desk. "I'll Read It. 'Henry

Douglas,  Being Duly Sworn,  Deposes And Says That One'--We'll Call

Him 'Blank' For The Present--'With Force And Arms Did Feloniously,

Wilfully,  And Intentionally Kill Rebecca Wend Whilst Said Blank

Was Wilfully Burning And Setting On Fire--'"

"One Moment," Interrupted Stacey. "Let Me See That Paper."

Kennedy Laid It Down So That Only The Signature Showed. The Name

Was Signed In A Full Round Hand,  "Henry Douglas."

"It's A Forgery," Cried Stacey In Rage. "Not An Hour Before I Came

Into This Place I Saw Henry Douglas. He Had Signed No Such Paper

Then. He Could Not Have Signed It Since,  And You Could Not Have

Received It. I Brand That Document As A Forgery."

Kennedy Stood Up And Reached Down Into The Open Drawer On The

Right Of His Desk. From It He Lifted The Two Machines I Had Seen

Him Place There Early In The Evening.

"Gentlemen," He Said,  "This Is The Last Scene Of The Play You Are

Enacting. You See Here On The Desk An Instrument That Was Invented

Many Years Ago,  But Has Only Recently Become Really Practical. It

Is The Telautograph--The Long-Distance Writer. In This New Form It

Can Be Introduced Into The Drawer Of A Desk For The Use Of Any One

Who May Wish To Make Inquiries,  Say,  Of Clerks Without The

Knowledge Of A Caller. It Makes It Possible To Write A Message

Under These Conditions And Receive An Answer Concerning The

Personality Or Business Of The Individual Seated At One's Elbow

Without Leaving The Desk Or Seeming To Make Inquiries.

"With An Ordinary Pencil I Have Written On The Paper Of The

Transmitter. The Silk Cord Attached To The Pencil Regulates The

Current Which Controls A Pencil At The Other End Of The Line. The

Receiving Pencil Moves Simultaneously With My Pencil. It Is The

Principle Of The Pantagraph Cut In Half,  One Half Here,  The Other

Half At The End Of The Line,  Two Telephone Wires In This Case

Connecting The Halves.

"While We Have Been Sitting Here I Have Had My Right Hand In The

Half-Open Drawer Of My Desk Writing With This Pencil Notes Of What

Has Transpired In This Room. These Notes,  With Other Evidence,

Have Been Simultaneously Placed Before Magistrate Brenner In The

Night Court. At The Same Time,  On This Other,  The Receiving,

Instrument The Figures Of The Accountants Written In Court Have

Been Reproduced Here. You Have Seen Them. Meanwhile,  Douglas Was

Arrested,  Taken Before The Magistrate,  And The Information For A

Charge Of Murder In The First Degree Perpetrated In Committing

Arson Has Been Obtained. You Have Seen It. It Came In While You

Were Reading The Figures."

The Conspirators Seemed Dazed.

"And Now," Continued Kennedy,  "I See That The Pencil Of The

Receiving Instrument Is Writing Again. Let Us See What It Is."

We Bent Over. The Writing Started: "County Of New York. In The

Name Of The People Of The State Of New York--"

Kennedy Did Not Wait For Us To Finish Reading. He Tore The Writing

From The Telautograph And Waved It Over His Head.

"It Is A Warrant. You Are All Under Arrest For Arson. But You,

Samuel Lazard,  Are Also Under Arrest For The Murder Of Rebecca

Wend And Six Other Persons In Fires Which You Have Set. You Are

The Real Firebug,  The Tool Of Joseph Stacey,  Perhaps,  But That

Will All Come Out In The Trial. Mccormick,  Mccormick," Called

Craig,  "It's All Right. I Have The Warrant. Are The Police There?"

There Was No Answer.

Lazard And Stacey Made A Sudden Dash For The Door,  And In An

Instant They Were In Stacey's Waiting Car. The Chauffeur Took Off

The Brake And Pulled The Lever. Suddenly Craig's Pistol Flashed,

And The Chauffeur's Arms Hung Limp And Useless On The Steering-

Wheel.

As Mccormick With The Police Loomed Up,  A Moment Late,  Out Of The

Darkness And After A Short Struggle Clapped The Irons On Stacey

And Lazard In Stacey's Own Magnificently Upholstered Car,  I

Remarked Reproachfully To Kennedy: "But,  Craig,  You Have Shot The

Innocent Chauffeur. Aren't You Going To Attend To Him?"

"Oh," Replied Kennedy Nonchalantly,  "Don't Worry About That. They

Were Only Rock-Salt Bullets. They Didn't Penetrate Far. They'll

Sting For Some Time,  But They're Antiseptic,  And They'll Dissolve

And Absorb Quickly."

"Shake Hands With Mr. Burke Of The Secret Service,  Professor

Kennedy."

It Was Our Old Friend First Deputy O'connor Who Thus In His Bluff

Way Introduced A Well-Groomed And Prosperous-Looking Man Whom He

Brought Up To Our Apartment One Evening.

The Formalities Were Quickly Over. "Mr. Burke And I Are Old

Friends," Explained O'connor. "We Try To Work Together When We

Can,  And Very Often The City Department Can Give The Government

Service A Lift,  And Then Again It's The Other Way--As It Was In

The Trunk-Murder Mystery. Show Professor Kennedy The 'Queer,'

Tom."

Burke Drew A Wallet Out Of His Pocket,  And From It Slowly And

Deliberately Selected A Crisp,  Yellow-Backed Hundred-Dollar Bill.

He Laid It Flat On The Table Before Us. Diagonally Across Its Face

From The Upper Left-To The Lower Right-Hand Corner Extended Two

Parallel Scorings In Indelible Ink.

Not Being Initiated Into The Secrets Of The Gentle Art Of "Shoving

The Queer," Otherwise Known As