American Sherlocks by Nick Rennison (reading like a writer .TXT) 📕

The detective hastily but effectively disguised himself, left word for his assistants, and hurried to the hotel – only to find that his flash of inspiration had come a little too late.

Helga Lund had mysteriously disappeared.

VI

Doctor Lightfoot, the actress’s physician, was greatly excited and had just telephoned to Nick’s house, after the detective had left for the hotel.

The doctor had arrived there about half an hour before, for his regular morning visit. To his consternation he had found the night nurse stretched out on Helga Lund’s bed, unconscious, and clad only in her undergarments.

The actress was nowhere to be found.

The anxious Lightfoot was of very different caliber from the prison physician at Sing Sing. He had recognized the nurse’s symptoms at once, and knew that she had been hypnotized.

He set to work at once to revive her and succeeded in doing so, after some little delay. As soon as she was in a condition to question, he pressed her for all the details she could give.

They were meager enough, but sufficiently disquieting. According to her story, a man whom she had supposed to be Lightfoot himself had gained entrance to the suite between nine and ten o’clock at night.

He had sent up Doctor Lightfoot’s name, and his appearance, when she saw him, had coincided with that of the attending physician. He had acted rather strangely, to be sure, and the nurse had been surprised at his presence at that hour, owing to the fact that Lightfoot had already made his two regular calls that day.

Before her surprise had had time to become full-fledged suspicion, however, the intruder had fixed her commandingly with his eyes and she had found herself powerless to resist the weakness of will which had frightened her.

She dimly remembered that he had approached her slowly, nearer and nearer, and that his gleaming eyes had seemed to be two coals of fire in his head.

That was all she recalled, except that she had felt her senses reeling and leaving her. She had known no more until Doctor Lightfoot broke the dread spell, almost twelve hours afterward.

She had met the bogus Lightfoot in one of the outer rooms of the suite, not in the presence of the actress. Miss Lund had been in her bedroom at the time, but had not yet retired.

The nurse was horror-stricken to learn that her patient was missing, and equally at a loss to explain how she herself came to be without her uniform.

But Doctor Lightfoot possessed a sufficiently analytical mind to enable him to solve the puzzle, after a fashion, even before Nick arrived.

The detective had told him that the sight of an enemy of the actress had caused her seizure, and it was easy to put two and two together. This enemy had doubtless made himself up to represent the attending physician, had hypnotized the nurse, and then passed on, unhindered, to the actress’s room.

He had obviously subdued her in the same fashion, after which he had removed the unconscious nurse’s uniform and compelled Helga to don it.

The doctor remembered now that the two women were nearly alike in height and build. The nurse had dark-brown hair, in sharp contrast to Helga’s golden glory; but a wig could have remedied that. Neither was there any similarity in features, but veils can be counted on to hide such differences.

Doctor Lightfoot, despite his alarm, was rather proud of his ability to reason the thing out alone. He had no doubt that Helga Lund, under hypnotic influence, had accompanied the strange man from the hotel, against her will.

It would have been very easy, with no obstacle worth mentioning to interpose. No one who saw them would have thought it particularly strange to see the nurse and the doctor leaving together. At most, it would have suggested that they were on unusually good terms, and that he was taking her out for an airing in his car.

The keen-witted physician had progressed thus far by the time Nick arrived, but he had not yet sought to verify his deductions by questioning any of the hotel staff.

Nick listened to his theory, put a few additional questions to the nurse, and then complimented Doctor Lightfoot on his analysis.

‘That seems to be the way of it,’ the detective admitted. ‘A light, three-quarter-length coat, which the nurse often wore over her uniform, is also missing, together with her hat. The distinctive nurse’s skirt would have shown beneath the coat and thereby helped the deception.’

Confidential inquiries were made at once, and the fact was established that the two masqueraders – one voluntary and one involuntary – had left the building about ten o’clock the night before.

The supposed Lightfoot had arrived in a smart, closed town car, which had been near enough to the physician’s in appearance to deceive the carriage starter. The chauffeur wore a quiet livery, a copy of that worn by Lightfoot’s driver. The car had waited, and the two had ridden away in it.

That was all the hotel people could say. The night clerk had thought it odd that Miss Lund’s nurse had not returned, but it was none of his business, of course, if the actress’s physician had taken her away.

It was of little importance now, but Nick was curious enough to make inquiries, while he was about it, which brought out the fact that a man had registered at the hotel the morning after the affair at the theater, and had paid his bill and left the evening before.

It might have been only a coincidence, but certain features of the man’s description, as given, left room for the belief that Doctor Grantley had really been at the Wentworth-Belding during that interval.

But where was he now, and what had he done with the unfortunate actress?

Such as it was, the slender clue furnished by the closed car must be followed up for all it was worth.

That was not likely to prove an easy matter, and, unless Grantley had lost his cunning, the trail of the machine would probably