I spent the next two or three days in quiet work here and there. The most considerable advance I made was in picking an acquaintance with McArdle, the property man of Miss Hamerton's company. Watching the stage door I discovered that the working-force behind the scenes frequented the back room of a saloon on Sixth avenue for lunch after the show. The rest was easy. By the third night McArdle and I were on quite a confidential1 footing.
From him I heard any amount of gossip. McArdle was of the garrulous2, emotional type and very free with his opinions. The star was the only one he spared. From his talk I got the principal members of the company fixed3 in my mind. Beside Mr. Quarles there was George Casanova, the heavy man, a well-known actor but, according to McArdle, a loud-mouthed, empty braggart4, and Richard Richards, the character heavy, a silly old fool, he said, devoured5 by vanity. Among the women the next in importance after the star was Miss Beulah Maddox, the heavy lady, who in the opinion of my amiable6 informant giggled7 and ogled8 like a sewing-machine girl, and she forty if she was a day.
Discreet9 questioning satisfied me that McArdle was quite unaware10 that a robbery had been committed in the theatre. If he didn't know it, certainly it was not known.
Out of bushels of gossip I sifted11 now and then a grain of valuable information. He informed me that Roland Quarles was in love with the star. For some reason that I could not fathom12 he was especially bitter against the young leading man. He would rail against him by the hour, but there seemed to be no solid basis for his dislike.
"Does she favour him?" I asked.
"Nah!" he said. "She's got too much sense. He's a four-flusher, a counter-jumper, a hall-room boy! Lord! the airs he gives himself you'd think he had a million a year! He's a tail-ender with her, and he knows it. He's sore."
"Who seems to be ahead of him?" I asked with strong curiosity.
"There's a dozen regulars," said McArdle. "Two Pittsburgh millionaires, a newspaper editor, a playwright13 and so on. But if you ask me, the jeweller is ahead in the running."
"The jeweller?" I said, pricking14 up my ears.
"Spanish looking gent with whiskers," said McArdle. "Keeps a swell15 joint16 on the avenue. Mount, his name is. He's a wise guy, does the old family friend act, see? He's a liberal feller. I hope he gets her."
This bit of information gave me food for thought. I thought it explained my intuitive dislike of Mount. The thought of that old fellow presuming to court the exquisite17 Irma made me hot under the collar.
I went to the store of Roberts, the manufacturer of artificial pearls. This place was as well-known in its way as Mount's, since Roberts had sued the Duke of Downshire and the public had learned that the pearls His Grace had presented to Miss Van Alstine on the occasion of their marriage were—phony. It also was a very fancy establishment but like its wares18, on a much less expensive scale.
I fell in with a sociable19 and talkative young salesman, who at my request showed me a whole tray full of pearl necklaces. Among them I spotted20 another replica21 of Miss Hamerton's beautiful string.
"What's this?" I asked carelessly.
"Blue pearls," he rattled22 off. "Latest smart novelty. A hit. Mrs. Minturn Vesey had one sent up only yesterday. She wore it to the opera last night."
"There isn't such a thing really as a blue pearl, is there?" I asked idly.
"Certainly. These are copies of genuine stones like all our stock. Some time ago a customer sent in the real necklace to have it copied, like they all do. This was such a novelty Mr. Roberts had a pattern made and put them on sale. It's a winner!"
"I wouldn't want a thing everybody had bought," I said.
"I don't mean everybody," he said. "But just a few of the very smartest. It's too expensive for everybody. Seven hundred and fifty. The original is priceless."
"How many have you sold?"
"About ten."
"Who else bought them?"
He reeled off a string of fashionable names.
"That's only six."
"The others were sold over the counter."
The affable youngster was a little aggrieved23 when I left without buying.
Mr. Mount was both surprised and deeply chagrined24 when I told him that exact replicas25 of Miss Hamerton's pearls were to be had at Roberts' by anybody with the price. He didn't see how he could stop it either. It appeared there was a standing26 feud27 between Roberts and the fashionable jewellers, in which Roberts had somewhat the advantage because the regular trade was obliged to employ him. No one else could make such artificial pearls.
With Mr. Mount's assistance I had the sales of the replicas quietly traced. Nothing resulted from this. All but two of the sales were to persons above suspicion. These two had been sold over the counter, one to a man, one to a woman, and as the transactions were over two months old, I could not get a working description of the buyers.
On another occasion I went into Dunsany's, the largest and best-known jewelry28 store in America, if not in the world, and asked to see some one who could give me some information about pearls. I was steered29 up to a large, pale gentleman wearing glasses, very elegantly dressed, of course. I put on my most youthful and engaging manner. I heard him addressed as Mr. Freer.
"Look here," I said, "I expect you'll want to have me thrown out for bothering you, but I'm in a hole."
My smile disarmed30 him. "What can I do for you?" he asked impressively.
"I'm a fiction writer," I said. "I'm writing a story about blue pearls, and somebody told me there was no such thing. Was he right?"
"Sometimes the black pearl has a bluish light in it," said Mr. Freer. "But it would take an expert to distinguish it. Such pearls are called blue pearls in the trade."
"I suppose you haven't got one you could show me?" I said.
He shook his head. "They rarely come into the market. There is only one place in New York where they may be found."
"And that is?"
"Mount's. Mr. Alfred Mount has a hobby for collecting them. Naturally when a blue pearl appears it is generally offered first to him. You'd better go to see him. He knows more about blue pearls than any man in the world."
"One more question?" I said cajolingly, "in my story I have to imagine the existence of a necklace of sixty-seven blue pearls ranging in size from a currant down to a pea, all perfectly31 matched, perfect in form and lustre32. If there was such a thing what would it be worth?"
When I described the necklace I received a mild shock, for the pale eyes of the man who was watching me suddenly contracted like a frightened animal's. The muscles of his large pale face never moved, but I saw the eyes bolt. He smiled stiffly.
"I couldn't say," he said. "Its value would be fabulous33."
"But give me some idea," I said, "just for the sake of the story."
He moistened his lips. "Oh, say half a million," he said. "It would not be too much."
I swallowed my astonishment34, and thanked him, and made my way out.
Here was more food for cogitation35. Why should a few idle questions throw the pearl expert at Dunsany's into such visible agitation36? I had to give it up. Perhaps it was a twinge of indigestion or a troublesome corn. Anyhow I lost sight of it in the greater discovery. Half a million for the necklace, and Miss Hamerton had told me that buying it pearl by pearl it had cost her little more than twenty-five thousand!
Meanwhile there was an idea going through my head that I had not quite nerve enough to open to my client. It must be remembered that though I was making strides, I was still green at my business. I was not nearly so sure of myself as my manner might have led you to suppose. To my great joy Miss Hamerton herself broached37 the subject.
One afternoon she said, apropos38 of nothing that had gone before: "I'm sorry now that I introduced you to my friends. Though I do not see how I could have seen you without their knowing it."
"Why sorry?" I asked.
She went on with charming diffidence—how was one to resist her when she pleaded with an humble39 air: "I have thought—if it would not tie you down too closely—that you might take a minor40 r?le in my company."
My heart leaped—but of course I was not going to betray my eagerness if I could help it.
"As to your friends having seen me," I said, "that doesn't make any difference. Disguise is part of my business."
"Then will you?" she eagerly asked.
I made believe to consider it doubtfully. "It would tie me down!" I said.
"Oh, I hope you can arrange it!" she said.
"Could it be managed without exciting comment in the company?"
"Easily. I have thought it all out. I have an assistant stage manager who plays a small part. By increasing his duties behind, I can in a perfectly natural way make it necessary to engage somebody to play his bit. I shall not appear in the matter."
"I have had no experience," I objected.
"I will coach you."
Could I resist that?
"It would be better to put in an operative."
"Oh, no! No one but you!"
"Well, I'll manage it somehow," I said.
She sighed with relief, and started that moment to coach me.
"You are a thug, a desperate character. You appear in only one scene, a cellar dimly lighted, so you will not be conspicuous41 from in front. You must practise speaking in a throaty, husky growl42."
In order to prolong the delightful43 lessons I made out to be a little stupider than I was.
I was engaged the next day but one through a well-known theatrical44 agent where Miss Hamerton had instructed me to apply for a job. Just how she contrived45 it I can't say, but I know I came into the company without anybody suspecting that it was upon the star's recommendation. In the theatre, of course, she ignored me.
Two nights later I made my debut46. Mine was such a very small part no one in the company paid any attention to me, but for me it was a big occasion, I can tell you. In the way of business I have faced death on several occasions with a quieter heart than I had upon first marching out into view of that thousand-headed creature across the footlights. With the usual egotism of the amateur I was sure they were all waiting to guy me. But they didn't. I spoke47 my half dozen lines without disaster. I felt as if the real me was sitting up in the flies watching his body act down below. Indeed, I could write several chapters upon my sensations that night, but as somebody else has said, that is another story.
What is more important is the discovery of my first piece of evidence.
At the end of the performance I was crossing the quiet stage on my way out of the theatre, when I saw a group of stage-hands and some of the minor members of the company by the stage-door with their heads together over a piece of paper. I joined the group, taking care not to bring myself forward. Another happened along, and he asked for me:
"What's the matter?"
Richards answered: "McArdle here found a piece of paper on the stage with funny writing on it. It's a mystery like."
"Let's have a squint48 at it," said the newcomer.
I looked over his shoulder. It was a single sheet of cheap note-paper of the style they call "dimity." It had evidently been torn from a pad. It seemed to be the last of several sheets of a letter, and it was written in a cryptogram49 which made my mouth water. I may say that I have a passion for this kind of a puzzle. I give it as I first saw it:
&FQZZDRR CV REW RIPN PFRBQ AT HXV
DGGZT EP FOBQ IVTCVMXK SJQ TZXD EA
TJTI ZK.
S CEDBBWYB SWOCNA VMD Y&F GC AVSNY
NCA &MW&M&L. HZF EDM HYW ZUM IKQ
BSCOAIIQVV ZXK FJOP WOD. KWX DWVXJ.
LEE FVTHV G&HJT LSZAND EBCC BFKY NCAFP
VEDFSF. BSQ ZWVXJ YXM II PL GC DCR FPBV
EA&BO ULS RLZQ WB NELJ KZNEDLKDUAA.
CSQVE VDEV-FBACP! S'WX OS QQTB EHHZXV.
J.
I had no proof on beholding50 this meaningless assortment51 of letters that it had anything to do with my case, but I had a hunch52. The question was how to get possession of it without showing my hand. I kept silent for a while, and let the discussion rage as to the proper way to translate it.
My excitable friend McArdle (who did not know me, of course, in my present character), naturally as the finder of the paper took a leading part in the discussion. The principals of the company had not yet emerged from their dressing-rooms. My opportunity came when McArdle stated in his positive way that it was a code, and that it was not possible to translate it without having the code-book.
"A code is generally regular words," I suggested mildly, as became the newest and humblest member of the company. "Nobody would ever think up these crazy combinations of letters. I should say it was a cryptogram."
McArdle wouldn't acknowledge that he didn't know what a cryptogram was, but somebody else asked.
"Substituting one letter for another according to a numerical key," I said. "Easy enough to translate it if you can hit on the key."
One thing led to another and soon came the inevitable53 challenge.
"Bet you a dollar you can't read it!" cried McArdle.
I hung back until the whole crowd joined him in taunting54 me.
"Put up or shut up!" cried McArdle.
The upshot was that we each deposited a dollar with old Tom the door-keeper, and I took the paper home.
It was the most ingenious and difficult cryptogram I ever tackled. The sun was up before I got it. It was a richer prize than I had hoped for. Here it is:
"disposed of and your share of the money is here whenever you want to get it.
I strongly advise you not to leave the company. You say she has not discovered her loss. All right. But these phony pearls soon lose their lustre. She might get on to it the same night you hand in your resignation. Then good-night. I'll be back Monday. J."*
* For the benefit of those of curious minds I will give the key to the cryptogram. The simplest form of this kind of puzzle is that in which every letter has a certain other letter to stand for it. It may be the one before it, the one after it, or a purely55 arbitrary substitution. In any case the same letter always has the same alias56. That is child's play to solve. I soon discovered that I was faced by something more complex. Observe that in one place "night" appears as EA&BO, whereas in the next line it is FBACP. "Company" masqueraded in this extraordinary form: &MW&M&L. Here was a jawbreaker! To make a long story short I discovered after hundreds of experiments that the first letter of the first word of each sentence was ten letters in advance of the one set down; the second letter eleven letters ahead, and so on up to twenty-five, then begin over from ten. With each sentence however short the writer began afresh from ten. He added to the complications by including the character & as the twenty-seventh letter of the alphabet. The fragmentary sentence at the top of the page held me up for a long time until I discovered that the first letter was twenty-three numbers in advance of the right one. Several mistakes on the part of the writer added to my difficulties.
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1
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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2
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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braggart
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| n.吹牛者；adj.吹牛的，自夸的 | |
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ogled
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| v.（向…）抛媚眼，送秋波( ogle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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10
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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11
sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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12
fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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13
playwright
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| n.剧作家，编写剧本的人 | |
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14
pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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15
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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16
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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17
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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18
wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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19
sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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21
replica
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| n.复制品 | |
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22
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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23
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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24
chagrined
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| adj.懊恼的，苦恼的v.使懊恼，使懊丧，使悔恨( chagrin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25
replicas
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| n.复制品( replica的名词复数 ) | |
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26
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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27
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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28
jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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29
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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30
disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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31
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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32
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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33
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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34
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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35
cogitation
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| n.仔细思考，计划，设计 | |
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36
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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37
broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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38
apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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39
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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40
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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41
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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42
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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43
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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44
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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45
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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46
debut
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| n.首次演出，初次露面 | |
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47
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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48
squint
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| v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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49
cryptogram
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| n.密码 | |
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50
beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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51
assortment
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| n.分类，各色俱备之物，聚集 | |
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52
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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53
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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54
taunting
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| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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55
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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56
alias
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| n.化名；别名；adv.又名 | |
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