After arranging a disguise which completely concealed3 his identity, Nick boarded a car bound for Broadway, transferred to that long thoroughfare which runs parallel with and through the river district, and near the hour of eleven found himself in front of the door of Luke Filbon's house. It was a small, one-story, brick structure, located but a short distance from the river and near a large grain-elevator. The house was in darkness, and all was silent within. Nick pressed the button by the side of the door, and soon was heard a weak, querulous voice from within.
[17]
"Who's there?"
"Some one to see Mr. Filbon on important business. Is he at home?"
"No, and he won't come to-night, I'm thinking. He said he had work to do at the office that would likely keep him until after midnight. I am his mother. I suppose you know."
"I took it for granted that you were. Has any one been here to see him this evening?"
"Yes. John Dashwood was here about an hour ago."
"No one else?"
"No. What's the matter? Luke isn't in any trouble, is he?"
"I hope not," he said. "Good night," and he walked quickly away from the door before further and probably embarrassing questions could be asked.
The patrolman on the beat was found. He had seen two men go from Broadway toward the Filbon house between nine and ten o'clock. They were not together, but were fifteen minutes apart. He had not been near enough to observe them closely, but was satisfied from their build—they were both large men—that neither was Filbon, who was small and thin.
Perplexed6 and dissatisfied, the detective went to the river end of the street. There was a rotten wharf7 extending toward the big grain-elevator. It was short,[18] and for a portion of its length the planking had been torn out.
The night was clear, with a half-moon, and Nick picked his way about the wharf, in the hope that he might find a clue to the night's mysterious proceedings8. There was a possibility that Luke Filbon, determined9 on suicide, had given up the idea of going home to secure the revolver—to take which action he would have to tell a story that would deceive his mother, and that would be no easy task—and instead had thrown himself into the Mississippi.
Nick, with his bull's-eye, investigated the water space under the wharf without much hope of making a discovery. If death by drowning had been Filbon's purpose, he would, in all probability, have jumped from the edge of the wharf into the river, and the swift current would have carried him far down-stream.
The water, muddy and but slightly disturbed, carried nothing upon its surface that was out of the ordinary. Nick moved to a point where he could get an outlook on the short section of bank beyond the water. He was rewarded by the sight of a human figure huddled10 up on the sloping bank of the levee a few feet from the water's edge. The figure was that of a man, with head bowed, elbows on knees, and face in hands. As the light of the bull's-eye was flashed upon him the man lifted his head with a start, but made no effort to arise. Nick believed that a way to get under the wharf would be found at the street abutment. Hastening over the planks11, he soon[19] discovered an opening, and quickly descended12. The man was still there. He had not moved. Walking over to him, the detective saw a small, thin man of about twenty-five, with a haggard face and bloodshot eyes.
"What do you want?" he asked, in a surly tone. "I am minding my own business here."
"I want your confidence," said Nick kindly14. "I am not your enemy. I may prove to be the best friend you ever had."
The young man gazed stupidly at the detective, then lowered his head and said, in a voice broken with emotion: "No; I have no friends."
"My God! Do you know me?"
"Yes, I know you now, if I did not know you before."
For a few moments there was silence. Then Nick asked: "What do you fear?"
"Gabriel Leonard?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"By putting two and two together."
"Who are you?"
There was both fear and curiosity in the expression of Filbon's face.
"I am a friend of John Dashwood, and he is one man among a thousand. That ought to satisfy you."
[20]
"Yes, yes," he huskily replied. "I can guess who you are. You are Nick Carter, and that means——"
"It means," was the detective's quick interruption, "that you must tell the truth and that you need not fear me. I have talked with your mother, and I pity her son. Come, confide13 in me, for I believe you have been hounded into your present position."
"I—I can't tell you."
Great drops of perspiration20 showed themselves on Filbon's brow. Nick lighted a cigar.
"Let me help you a little," he said easily. "You have been led into crime by a woman, and you are afraid that if you betray her your life will be attempted. Am I right?"
"You are not far wrong," said the young man wearily.
"Now, if you can aid me in tightening21 the cords about this woman, will not that furnish protection for yourself? For how can you be harmed if the person you fear is in prison?"
Filbon shook his head, and then compressed his lips. He was now sorry that he had admitted anything, and he cursed his want of backbone22. And he thought, bitterly: "If I hadn't been a mean, spiritless wretch23, I would never have got into this mess."
Nick knew the nature he had to deal with. He said quietly: "Listen to me a moment, and maybe you will find it advisable to change your mind. You are the bookkeeper and cashier of the manufacturing company of which Gabriel Leonard is president and John Dash[21]wood is manager. You have been stealing from the company. The crime would never have been committed but for the evil prompting of a wicked woman, who, protesting love for you, would have cast you aside the moment she received the money she urged you to steal. To-night John Dashwood surprised your guilty secret. You had hidden the stolen money in the office, and you went there to get it, in pursuance of this woman's order. You did not get it, or, if you did, it was taken from you. Dashwood allowed you to go. His heart overflows24 with charity and—and I presume he knows your mother. As you left the elevator you saw the woman. You told her that the scheme had failed. She reproached you, cast you off. You then announced your intention to go home, get a revolver, and blow out your brains. What induced you to reconsider that determination?"
Luke Filbon had listened to this clear exposition of his case in sheer amazement25. "No need to keep silent longer," he said, in a husky voice. "I'll tell you all."
But he did not at once begin his story.
For some time he sat without speaking, his eyes on the water. What thoughts passed through his mind the detective never guessed until his account with Filbon had been closed.
"This woman," he began, in a steady voice, "came to St. Louis a short time ago. I met her on the evening following her arrival here. It was at a Parisian beauty show, which has since been interdicted26 by the police. She was the star of the outfit27, and my admiration28 seemed[22] to please her. We had opportunity for a quiet confab, and she invited me to call upon her next day. I was fool enough to do so; and before I had been with her an hour she knew all about my affairs. I have never associated much with women of her class, and she exercised her powers of fascination29 so well that the next visit I promised to do all she wished me to do. I was infatuated, and when she painted in glowing colors a life abroad without work, a life that should be one long round of pleasure, I stood ready to furnish the means if such a thing were possible. She said we would require twenty thousand dollars, and proposed that I should steal that amount from the company. I could not see my way to the performance of such a thing. I told her that, though I was the cashier, there was never more than a few thousands in the safe on any one day, and that every afternoon, before the banks closed, the money in the safe was banked.
"She had thought of that, she said, and could suggest a way out of the difficulty. I could every day hold out something, say a few hundred dollars, as a rule, and more when the receipts should be unusually large, and cover up the shortage by falsifying the books. In this way the twenty thousand dollars could be withdrawn30 within thirty days. The plan seemed feasible, for I was fully32 trusted by Dashwood, and before the expiration33 of thirty days I had drawn31 out of the safe and secreted34 in the office twenty thousand dollars in bank-notes."
"Of course, you did not take the numbers?"
[23]
"But I did. There was no reason for it. Force of habit, I suppose, made me put them down."
"Did you keep the list?"
"Yes, and I have it with me. But it is of no importance, as you must see before I have finished my story. Yesterday afternoon I saw Madam Ree—that's her name, and she took up the palmist business when the beauty show shut up shop—and told her the twenty thousand would be ready to-night. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was never more gracious. All the details of our contemplated35 trip to Europe were gone over, and when I left her she promised to meet me across the street from the office at seven-thirty o'clock to-night.
"At seven-fifteen I went to the office, and was surprised to see John Dashwood there, and at work on the books. This was suspicious, and I was all of a tremble lest he should discover one or more of my false entries. His first words told me that the game was up.
"'Sit down,' he said sternly. 'I shall have something to say to you before long.'
"I waited in an agony of dread36 for nearly half an hour. Then Dashwood turned and faced me. 'You have been taking the firm's money, Filbon,' he said sorrowfully. 'Why have you done so? And what has become of it?' I was so taken aback, so overwhelmed by the gravity of my position, that I could only stammer37 a few inarticulate words.
"'Come,' he said, 'where is the money?'
[24]
"In an instant my brain cleared up.
"I knew what I must do.
"I would give him the money, then go home, get my pistol, and blow out my brains. Taking the notes from their hiding-place, I handed them to Dashwood, without a word.
"'Very well,' he said kindly. 'Now, go home, get a good sleep, and come around in the morning and we'll talk over this matter.'
"So saying, he turned his back on me, opened the safe, put the notes in a box, and then relocked the safe. Before he looked up again I was gone. Down-stairs I met Madam Ree. She had become impatient over my delay, and was beside herself with rage. When I told her what had happened she lost all control of herself. While she upbraided38 me, the scales fell from my eyes. I saw that I had been tricked, that the woman cared nothing for me, had been using me as a tool to enrich herself. I left her resolved to end my life. I went down the street, intending to take the first car for Broadway that came along. But the thought of showing my telltale face to any of the passengers so distressed39 me that I gave up the idea of riding and determined to walk the distance. I went down to Washington Street and from Washington Street to Seventh, and so on out to my home. But I did not enter the house. I knew I could not meet my mother's eye"—here great sobs40 shook his frame—"I knew I could not invent a story that would be likely to allay41 her suspicions. No, if I wished to die, I[25] must try some other way. I came down here to think over the matter. That's all."
"Did you see any one on the wharf or in its vicinity as you came down?"
"No."
"How long have you been here?"
"I had been here about half an hour before you came."
Nick regarded the young man thoughtfully. "You have made a serious mistake," he said slowly, but not unkindly, "but there's hope for you. Your nature is not a vicious one. I can't give you positive assurance, but my opinion is that you will not be prosecuted42 for what you have done."
"You don't know Gabriel Leonard," was the reply, given in a hopeless tone. "He is hard, hard as nails. I know him. And there is my mother. Even if I escape prosecution43, I must lose my place. She will discover the truth. I could not lie to her."
"You should have thought of your mother before," said the detective coldly.
"I know it, I know it, and I'm lost, lost! Go away. Leave me to myself for a minute. Let me consider. Oh, my poor brain!"
The spectacle of Filbon's anguish44 was not a pleasant one, and Nick moved a few paces away. But he kept his eyes on Filbon, who, rocking his body and sobbing45 violently, seemed to be in the lowest depths of despair. Suddenly, with a wild laugh, he straightened up. "I have settled it," he almost shouted. "It's all right now."
[26]
Nick rushed forward, seized him by the arm, and let the lantern's light fall full upon his face. What he saw filled him with dismay.
"What have you done?" he demanded harshly.
"Got the stuff at a drug-store coming down here," was the answer, given with chattering46 teeth. "Fooled you, didn't I? Ha! ha!"—the laugh quickly ceased, the face grew ashen47, the form stiffened48, there was a sharp rattle49 in the throat, and Nick, dropping his bull's-eye, caught the body as it was falling forward. Luke Filbon, weak instrument of a woman's wicked cupidity50, was dead.
A small phial on the ground by the side of the body told the story of the fatal agency. It had contained prussic acid, one of the deadliest and quickest-acting poisons known to the pharmacop?ia. It had been procured51 that evening at a Broadway drug-store, for the label was there, and there were the death's head and cross-bones below the word "Poison." By what representations had he obtained the poison? A visit to the drug-store would furnish the explanation.
The detective was about to leave the spot, when a sudden thought caused him to stay his steps. In Filbon's pocket was the list of bank-notes which he had stolen and replaced. The peculiar52 happenings of the night contained mysterious suggestions. The list, apparently53 without value, might become useful. No harm in obtaining possession of it. It was found and placed in Nick's pocketbook. Now the detective hurried away to find[27] a patrolman, state what had been discovered, and have the nearest police-station notified.
When this duty had been performed, Nick went to the drug-store where the prussic acid had been purchased. He had left the phial where he had found it, for it bore evidence that would, at the coroner's inquest, in connection with an analysis of the contents of the dead man's stomach, absolutely determine the cause of death.
It was an all-night drug-store, and the one clerk readily gave the information desired. He had known Filbon as a customer for many years, and the poison had been sold upon the representation that it was to be used for the asthma54, with which Filbon's mother was afflicted55. "Diluted56 with water, it is often used by asthmatics," said the clerk, "as it gives quick relief." When informed that the poison had been used for quite a different purpose, the clerk was horrified57.
Nick Carter could do no more that night. He sought his room in Jefferson Avenue, but was an early riser. At nine o'clock next morning he called at the office of the manufacturing company. It was closed. He went away, returning at ten o'clock. In response to his knock, the door was opened by Gabriel Leonard. His face was pale, and there were dark circles about his eyes. He did not greet the detective with his usual heartiness58.
"Where is Dashwood?" was Nick's first question.
"I don't know," was the answer, in a half-angry manner.
"Didn't Dashwood go home last night?"
[28]
"No. I haven't seen him since early yesterday afternoon."
Leonard passed a trembling hand over his forehead, met Nick's frowning gaze for an instant, and then his eyes sought the floor.
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1
novice
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| adj.新手的，生手的 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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4
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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5
evasion
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| n.逃避，偷漏(税) | |
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6
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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8
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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9
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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10
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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11
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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12
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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13
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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14
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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15
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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16
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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17
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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18
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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19
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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20
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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21
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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22
backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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23
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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24
overflows
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| v.溢出，淹没( overflow的第三人称单数 )；充满；挤满了人；扩展出界，过度延伸 | |
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25
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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interdicted
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| v.禁止（行动）( interdict的过去式和过去分词 )；禁用；限制 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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28
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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29
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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30
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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31
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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32
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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33
expiration
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| n.终结，期满，呼气，呼出物 | |
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34
secreted
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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35
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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36
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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38
upbraided
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| v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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40
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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41
allay
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| v.消除，减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
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42
prosecuted
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| a.被起诉的 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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44
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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45
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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46
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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47
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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48
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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49
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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50
cupidity
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| n.贪心，贪财 | |
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51
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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52
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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53
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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54
asthma
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| n.气喘病，哮喘病 | |
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55
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
diluted
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| 无力的，冲淡的 | |
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57
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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58
heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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