The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (top 10 motivational books .txt) π
Literally Throwing Things Into It From His Chiffonier, As I
Entered After A Hurried Trip Up-Town From The Star Office In
Response To An Urgent Message From Him.
"Come, Walter," He Cried, Hastily Stuffing In A Package Of Clean
Laundry Without Taking Off The Wrapping-Paper, "I've Got Your
Suit-Case Out. Pack Up Whatever You Can In Five Minutes. We Must
Take The Six O'clock Train For Danbridge."
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- Author: Arthur B. Reeve
Read book online Β«The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (top 10 motivational books .txt) πΒ». Author - Arthur B. Reeve
Thurston To His Purposes, Was Halsey Post, Once Secret Lover Of
Vera Lytton Till Threatened By Scandal In Danbridge--Halsey Post,
Graduate In Technology, Student Of Sympathetic Inks, Forger Of The
Vera Lytton Letter And The Other Notes, And Dealer In Cyanides In
The Silver-Smithing Business, Fortune-Hunter For The Willard
Millions With Which To Recoup The Post & Vance Losses, And Hence
Rival Of Dr. Dixon For The Love Of Alma Willard. That Is The Man
Who Wielded The Poisoned Pen. Dr. Dixon Is Innocent."
Part 3 Chapter 2 (The Yeggman) Pg 11
"Hello! Yes, This Is Professor Kennedy. I Didn't Catch The Name--
Oh, Yes--President Blake Of The Standard Burglary Insurance
Company. What--Really? The Branford Pearls--Stolen? Maid
Chloroformed? Yes, I'll Take The Case. You'll Be Up In Half An
Hour? All Right, I'll Be Here. Goodbye."
It Was Through This Brief And Businesslike Conversation Over The
Telephone That Kennedy Became Involved In What Proved To Be One Of
The Most Dangerous Cases He Had Ever Handled.
At The Mention Of The Branford Pearls I Involuntarily Stopped
Reading, And Listened, Not Because I Wanted To Pry Into Craig's
Affairs, But Because I Simply Couldn't Help It. This Was News That
Had Not Yet Been Given Out To The Papers, And My Instinct Told Me
That There Must Be Something More To It Than The Bare Statement Of
The Robbery.
"Some One Has Made A Rich Haul," I Commented. "It Was Reported, I
Remember, When The Branford Pearls Were Bought In Paris Last Year
That Mrs. Branford Paid Upward Of A Million Francs For The
Collection."
"Blake Is Bringing Up His Shrewdest Detective To Co-Operate With
Me In The Case," Added Kennedy. "Blake, I Understand, Is The Head
Of The Burglary Insurance Underwriters' Association, Too. This
Will Be A Big Thing, Walter, If We Can Carry It Through."
It Was The Longest Half-Hour That I Ever Put In, Waiting For Blake
To Arrive. When He Did Come, It Was Quite Evident That My Surmise
Had Been Correct.
Blake Was One Of Those Young Old Men Who Are Increasingly Common
In Business Today. There Was An Air Of Dignity And Keenness About
His Manner That Showed Clearly How Important He Regarded The Case.
So Anxious Was He To Get Down To Business That He Barely
Introduced Himself And His Companion, Special Officer Maloney, A
Typical Private Detective.
"Of Course You Haven't Heard Anything Except What I Have Told You
Over The Wire," He Began, Going Right To The Point. "We Were
Notified Of It Only This Noon Ourselves, And We Haven't Given It
Out To The Papers Yet, Though The Local Police In Jersey Are Now
On The Scene. The New York Police Must Be Notified Tonight, So
That Whatever We Do Must Be Done Before They Muss Things Up. We've
Got A Clue That We Want To Follow Up Secretly. These Are The
Facts."
In The Terse, Straightforward Language Of The Up-To-Date Man Of
Efficiency, He Sketched The Situation For Us.
"The Branford Estate, You Know, Consists Of Several Acres On The
Mountain Back Of Montclair, Overlooking The Valley, And Surrounded
By Even Larger Estates. Branford, I Understand, Is In The West
With A Party Of Capitalists, Inspecting A Reported Find Of Potash
Salts. Mrs. Branford Closed Up The House A Few Days Ago And Left
For A Short Stay At Palm Beach. Of Course They Ought To Have Put
Their Valuables In A Safe Deposit Vault. But They Didn't. They
Relied On A Safe That Was Really One Of The Best In The Market--A
Splendid Safe, I May Say. Well, It Seems That While The Master And
Mistress Were Both Away The Servants Decided On Having A Good Time
In New York. They Locked Up The House Securely--There's No Doubt
Of That--And Just Went. That Is, They All Went Except Mrs.
Branford's Maid, Who Refused To Go For Some Reason Or Other. We've
Got All The Servants, But There's Not A Clue To Be Had From Any Of
Them. They Just Went Off On A Bust, That's Clear. They Admit It.
"Now, When They Got Back Early This Morning They Found The Maid In
Bed--Dead. There Was Still A Strong Odor Of Chloroform About The
Room. The Bed Was Disarranged As If There Had Been A Struggle. A
Towel Had Been Wrapped Up In A Sort Of Cone, Saturated With
Chloroform, And Forcibly Held Over The Girl's Nose. The Next Thing
They Discovered Was The Safe--Blown Open In A Most Peculiar
Manner. I Won't Dwell On That. We're Going To Take You Out There
And Show It To You After I've Told You The Whole Story.
"Here's The Real Point. It Looks All Right, So Far. The Local
Police Say That The Thief Or Thieves, Whoever They Were,
Apparently Gained Access By Breaking A Back Window. That's Mistake
Number One. Tell Mr. Kennedy About The Window, Maloney."
"It's Just Simply This," Responded The Detective. "When I Came To
Look At The Broken Window I Found That The Glass Had Fallen
Outside In Such A Way As It Could Not Have Fallen If The Window
Had Been Broken From The Outside. The Thing Was A Blind. Whoever
Did It Got Into The House In Some Other Way And Then Broke The
Glass Later To Give A False Clue."
"And," Concluded Blake, Taking His Cigar Between His Thumb And
Forefinger And Shaking It To Give All Possible Emphasis To His
Words, "We Have Had Our Agent At Palm Beach On Long-Distance
'Phone Twice This Afternoon. Mrs. Branford Did Not Go To Palm
Beach. She Did Not Engage Rooms In Any Hotel There. And
Furthermore She Never Had Any Intention Of Going There. By A
Fortunate Circumstance Maloney Picked Up A Hint From One Of The
Part 3 Chapter 2 (The Yeggman) Pg 12Servants, And He Has Located Her At The Grattan Inn In This City.
In Other Words, Mrs. Branford Has Stolen Her Own Jewels From
Herself In Order To Collect The Burglary Insurance--A Common-
Enough Thing In Itself, But Never To My Knowledge Done On Such A
Large Scale Before."
The Insurance Man Sank Back In His Chair And Surveyed Us Sharply.
"But," Interrupted Kennedy Slowly, "How About--"
"I Know--The Maid," Continued Blake. "I Do Not Mean That Mrs.
Branford Did The Actual Stealing. Oh, No. That Was Done By A
Yeggman Of Experience. He Must Have Been Above The Average, But
Everything Points To The Work Of A Yeggman. She Hired Him. But He
Overstepped The Mark When He Chloroformed The Maid."
For A Moment Kennedy Said Nothing. Then He Remarked: "Let Us Go
Out And See The Safe. There Must Be Some Clue. After That I Want
To Have A Talk With Mrs. Branford. By The Way," He Added, As We
All Rose To Go Down To Blake's Car, "I Once Handled A Life
Insurance Case For The Great Eastern. I Made The Condition That I
Was To Handle It In My Own Way, Whether It Went For Or Against The
Company. That's Understood, Is It, Before I Undertake The Case?"
"Yes, Yes," Agreed Blake. "Get At The Truth. We're Not Seeking To
Squirm Out Of Meeting An Honest Liability. Only We Want To Make A
Signal Example If It Is As We Have Every Reason To Believe. There
Has Been Altogether Too Much Of This Sort Of Fake Burglary To
Collect Insurance, And As President Of The Underwriters It Is My
Duty And Intention To Put A Stop To It. Come On."
Maloney Nodded His Head Vigorously In Assent With His Chief.
"Never Fear," He Murmured. "The Truth Is What Will Benefit The
Company, All Right. She Did It."
The Branford Estate Lay Some Distance Back From The Railroad
Station, So That, Although It Took Longer To Go By Automobile Than
By Train, The Car Made Us Independent Of The Rather Fitful Night
Train Service And The Local Cabmen.
We Found The House Not Deserted By The Servants, But Subdued. The
Body Of The Maid Had Been Removed To A Local Morgue, And A Police
Officer Was Patrolling The Grounds, Though Of What Use That Could
Be I Was At A Loss To Understand.
Kennedy Was Chiefly Interested In The Safe. It Was Of The So-
Called "Burglar-Proof" Variety, Spherical In Shape, And Looking
For All The World Like A Miniature Piece Of Electrical Machinery.
"I Doubt If Anything Could Have Withstood Such Savage Treatment As
Has Been Given To This Safe," Remarked Craig As He Concluded A
Cursory Examination Of It. "It Shows Great Resistance To High
Explosives, Chiefly, I Believe, As A Result Of Its Rounded Shape.
But Nothing Could Stand Up Against Such Continued Assaults."
He Continued To Examine The Safe While We Stood Idly By. "I Like
To Reconstruct My Cases In My Own Mind," Explained Kennedy, As He
Took His Time In The Examination. "Now, This Fellow Must Have
Stripped The Safe Of All The Outer Trimmings. His Next Move Was To
Make A Dent In The Manganese Surface Across The Joint Where The
Door Fits The Body. That Must Have Taken A Good Many Minutes Of
Husky Work. In Fact, I Don't See How He Could Have Done It Without
A Sledge-Hammer And A Hot Chisel. Still, He Did It And Then--"
"But The Maid," Interposed Maloney. "She Was In The House. She
Would Have Heard And Given An Alarm."
For Answer, Craig Simply Went To A Bay-Window And Raised The
Curtain. Pointing To The Lights Of The Next House, Far Down The
Road, He Said, "I'll Buy The Best Cigars In The State If You Can
Make Them Hear You On A Blustery Night Like Last Night. No, She
Part 3 Chapter 2 (The Yeggman) Pg 13Probably Did Scream. Either At This Point, Or At The Very Start,
The Burglar Must Have Chloroformed Her. I Don't See Any Other Way
To Explain It. I Doubt If He Expected Such A Tough Proposition As
He Found In This Safe, But He Was Evidently Prepared To Carry It
Through, Now That He Was Here And Had Such An Unexpectedly Clear
Field, Except For The Maid. He Simply Got Her Out Of The Way, Or
His Confederates Did--In The Easiest Possible Way, Poor Girl."
Returning To The Safe, He Continued: "Well, Anyhow, He Made A
Furrow Perhaps An Inch And A Half Long And A Quarter Of An Inch
Wide And, I Should Say, Not Over An Eighth Of An Inch Deep. Then
He Commenced To Burgle In Earnest. Under The Dent He Made A Sort
Of Little Cup Of Red Clay And Poured In The 'Soup'--The
Nitroglycerin--So That It Would Run Into The Depression.
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