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

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.

"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?"

"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.