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Man Without a Conscience

<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. THE DEEPER MYSTERY.</h2> Nick Carter was puzzled. His interview with Madame Victoria had, in a way, left him on the rocks. He could not account for the knowledge which, in indirect and equivocal terms, she had displayed. It plainly indicated that she had from some source received information concerning him and his business designs, as well as about the losses he had suffered in his encounter with the highwayman. Had this information really been derived through the occult powers of which the woman claimed to be possessed? Nick Carter was not ready to believe that it had, for he had but little faith in the supernatural. On the other hand, any natural explanation seemed equally difficult. “My intended visit to her rooms was known to only three persons by whom she could have been informed, and they were Badger and his wife, and Grady,” Nick perplexedly reasoned. “I know positively that Grady did not inform her. Assuming even that the Badgers[77] did so by communicating with her by telephone, they cannot possibly have guessed that I would call upon her in disguise. My make-up, together with the fictitious name I gave, certainly should have blinded her to my identity. Yet I do not believe she could have guessed, merely by chance, all of the facts that she imparted, and I’m blessed if I can quite fathom the mystery.” The more Nick thought about it the more positive he became that there existed some crooked work under the surface, and this made him even the more determined to ferret out what it was. “I’ll telegraph to Chick and Patsy to come here,” he abruptly decided, as he returned to the Adams House, at which he had registered. “I shall need them to assist me in locating these road robbers, whom I am now fully resolved to run down. After sending a message to Chick I will have another bout with the fortune-teller. I’m blessed if I’ll let her throw me down in this fashion—not and keep me down!” It was but a short walk to the hotel, and there Nick sent a telegram to Chick Carter, his chief assistant, ordering him and Patsy, one of his younger detectives, to come to Boston by the first train and join him at the Adams House. Nick knew that both would arrive late that evening,[78] and before then he hoped to have solved that portion of the mystery relating to the Tremont Street fortune-teller. After spending half an hour at lunch, Nick went up to his room and examined his disguise, which he had not removed. “It is perfect in every detail,” he mentally declared, while surveying himself in the mirror. “She cannot possibly have detected the make-up, and there must be some other explanation of her insinuations. I’ll take it off and visit her this time in proper person.” While removing the disguise, Nick noticed the carbuncle ring on his finger, and he immediately took it off and slipped it into the pocket of another suit he was then about putting on. “I’ll have nothing about me that she may have seen this morning,” he said to himself. “There’s a deal of crafty keenness in those bright eyes of hers, and I’ll make sure that she discovers nothing to identify me with her visitor by the name of Sibley. If she succeeds in doing that, the witch, there will be something more than natural in it—or some sort of rascally cunning at work under the surface. I’ll wager that she will have no impression of two men entering her room this time, nor that I was there this morning.” [79] Fashionably clad, with his strong, attractive face inviting observation, Nick appeared for the second time at the rooms of Madame Victoria, just about an hour after leaving them. The girl in the waiting-room did not recognize him, and Nick took even the precaution to vary his voice several degrees from that he had previously used. “Is Madame Victoria disengaged?” he inquired. “She is, sir, just at present,” said the girl. “My card,” said Nick tersely. “I would like a business interview with her.” “One moment, sir.” The girl vanished into the inner room, then returned without the card. “Madame will receive you, Mr. Carter,” she said, bowing. Nick left his hat as before, and approached the inner room. His recollections of it were not agreeable. The close atmosphere, the green light, the walls hung with mystical insignia, the purple-robed woman who had so baffled his usual keen reasoning, and the touch of whose hand lingered with him as when a person has touched the hand of a corpse—all had left upon him a disagreeable[80] impression, as when one has meddled with things pertaining to the black arts. He found Madame Victoria seated at the table, as before, looking more like a sorceress to him than ever, as he stepped gravely over the threshold. The woman looked up from the card between her thumb and fingers, and Nick thought he detected a subtle light leap up from the depths of her brilliant eyes. It vanished so quickly that he could not feel sure of it, however, despite that he was now alert for the slightest betrayal that might be of significance to him. Madame Victoria was the first to speak. “Take a chair, sir,” said she, smiling a bit oddly. “Your card informs me that you are Detective Carter, of New York.” “Yes, madame.” “My maid said you desire a business interview with me.” “If you please.” “Business from my standpoint, or your own?” inquired Madame Victoria, still smiling. “In other words, Detective Carter, does your visit relate to your business or to mine?” “The business is ours,” said Nick pointedly. [81] “Ah, sort of a mutual interest,” laughed the woman, with a captivating glance at him. “Precisely.” “Then, since you have not called to consult me professionally,” said the madame, “I shall feel free to drop my usual mental attitude, that of holding myself susceptible to outward impressions, and receive you more conventionally. About what do you wish to see me, Detective Carter?” Nick instinctively felt that he was already being headed off by the woman, and he saw, with half an eye, if he had not seen it before, that he was up against a remarkably shrewd and clever character, one who was nearly his equal in diplomacy and cunning. Nick briefly set aside the motive with which he had called, therefore, and reverted to the business which primarily had sent him to Madame Victoria’s rooms. “I wish to ask you a few questions,” said he. “About what?” “About the recent robbery of yourself and Mrs. Badger, of Brookline.” “Ah, indeed!” “I am engaged by Chief Weston, of the local police department, to investigate some of these highway robberies[82] committed about here, and to undertake the arrest of the culprits.” “Dear me! I am delighted to hear it, Detective Carter, and I do hope you’ll succeed,” exclaimed Madame Victoria, now displaying a very vivacious interest. “I hope so, too.” “I have lost some valuable jewels, and so has Claudia—that’s Mrs. Badger, sir—and I should be more than glad to recover them.” “No doubt.” “Or to aid you in hastening the arrest and conviction of the thieves,” added the woman. “In what way can I assist you, Detective Carter?” “By answering a few questions for me, madame——” “Pardon!” she interposed. “Well?” “You may call me Miss Clayton when not consulting me professionally, Detective Carter,” she explained, with a fascinating little laugh. “Like persons in other fields of art, I practise under an assumed name. If you ever meet my sister, Mrs. Badger, or her husband, they will probably refer to me by my real name. So I take this occasion to tell it to you. It is only here, or when discussing my professional work, that I make use of my business name.” [83] Nick wondered if all this had been thrown at him to convey an impression that she had not been informed of his call upon Badger and his wife, and a gleam of new suspicion showed briefly in the eyes of the great detective. Yet he said quietly, with a nod, that he understood her. “It matters little to me what name you use, providing you answer my questions,” he added. “I shall gladly do so, Detective Carter.” “I have here a snap-shot photograph said to have been taken by you at the time of the robbery.” “Yes, that is true. I had my kodak with me, and it so happened that I could——” “I have been told by Chief Weston how you obtained the photograph,” interposed Nick, wishing to expedite matters. “Ah, I see.” “What I chiefly wish to know is whether you got a good look at the thieves, or were too frightened to notice them closely.” “Oh, I was not greatly alarmed,” smiled Madame Victoria, with a shrug of her fine shoulders. “I saw that the loss of our valuables was inevitable, but I did not fear for my life.” [84] “Did you specially notice the woman who appears in this photograph?” “I saw all that was to be seen of both miscreants, Detective Carter,” the woman declared, with a nod of emphasis. “Did you detect any peculiarity about the woman?” “Only her unusual height.” “She was taller than the man?” “Yes, indeed; several inches taller.” “Yet in the picture he appears to be nearly six feet.” “I should judge that he was, as I now recall him.” “A woman taller than that is very rare,” said Nick, “and one who should be quite easily traced.” “That is true, sir.” “Do you feel quite sure that it was a woman?” “Sure? Why, certainly!” exclaimed Madame Victoria, laughing. “For what reasons?” “Because, Detective Carter, I saw the point of her chin under her black veil, and it was as smooth and white as my own.” “Anything more?” “Her hand and arm, too, what little I could see of the latter in the sleeve of her automobile coat, were as fair and plump as my own.” [85] Nick glanced at the pretty hand and arm she held out, and decided that there could be no mistaking them. “My first impression, Detective Carter,” she quickly added, “was the same as yours—that her height might warrant a suspicion that it was a man in woman’s clothing. For that reason, sir, I particularly observed her.” “I am glad of that,” bowed Nick. “I called here chiefly to settle this question of sex, and I have already asked Mrs. Badger about it.” “Oh, indeed! Then you have seen her?” “I called upon her in Brookline this morning.” “Does what I say corroborate her statements?” “Yes.” Nick had mentioned the call only to see if Madame Victoria would say that she had since heard from the Badgers, but she did nothing of the kind, leaving Nick to believe that she had not. This served only to increase his growing suspicions, when recalling what she had said that morning; and he now gravely added, with his gaze indifferently fixed upon her face: “I think there is only one more question that I would like to have you answer for me, Madame Victoria.” “Only one?” “That is all.” “Ask it, Detective Carter.” [86] Nick’s voice fell a little lower, and became more impressive. “I wish to know what you would have said to me, Madame Victoria, if I had called to consult you professionally.” The smile still lingered about the woman’s red lips, and her eyes met his without flinching. “I should have said, Detective Carter, what my first impression impelled me to say, yet which I decided to repress.” “What was that?” “I should have told you that I felt, when you entered, as if I were meeting a person who had recently called here.” “Did you feel so?” “I did.” “How do you now feel about it?” “I am now sure.” “Of what?” “That you were here this morning under the name of Sibley,” replied Madame Victoria, now frowning slightly. “I cannot possibly imagine why you came here in disguise and under an assumed name, Detective Carter, yet I am convinced that you did so.” [87] “How did you acquire that knowledge?” Nick now demanded, ignoring her quiet rebuke. “I answered that question for Mr. Sibley,” was the reply, with a covert sneer. “Hence there is no need for me to answer it for you.” “You acquired it through your impressions?” “Yes.” “In no other way?” “None.” “Then, as Mr. Sibley said this morning, it is very mysterious,” Nick dryly declared, rising to go. “So many think, as I said this morning.” “I will say, Madame Victoria, that I had no more malicious design in coming here in disguise than that of proving the validity of some of your claims to occult powers. I might add, too, that you have given me one of the most curious problems of my life.” “Indeed!” “I shall, however, make it a point to—solve the problem.” Madame Victoria laughed, and eyed him oddly from under her drooping lids. “If you do solve it, which involves learning how I get these impressions, Detective Carter, you will do more than I can,” she said, rising to bid him adieu. [88] “Then I certainly shall, Madame Victoria, do more than you can,” Nick quietly declared, as he accepted her proffered hand. “You think so, eh?” “I do, madame! I have one very pronounced trait of character, which may be of some interest to you.” “What is that?” “I never drop a mystery, Madame Victoria, until it has—ceased to be a mystery!” The last was said pleasantly enough, yet very emphatically, as Nick bowed and withdrew from the room, with the smiling eyes of the woman steadily meeting his till the door closed between the two. Then there came over her one of those swift changes seen only when suppressed passions, intensified by restraint, are abruptly given free rein. Her smile vanished like a flash, displaced by a frown that transfigured her every feature and lent to her usually attractive face the threatening and vengeful visage of a fury. With eyes gleaming, with lips drawn, with breast heaving under the sudden swell of her pent feelings, she shook both clenched hands after the departing detective, while muttering fiercely through her white teeth: “Yon will solve the problem, will you? You will tear[89] away the veil of mystery, will you? Not if I know it—not if I can prevent it, Mr. Nick Carter! “Beware what you do—what you attempt! Let the cost be what it may, my prediction shall be fulfilled, and only failure shall be yours! Beware lest you fail, for the inevitable price of failure will be—death!” Then she turned and hurried across the room, with every movement of her lithe and supple figure as quick and graceful as those of a leopard. With a quick sweep of her arm, she threw aside the curtain of a door of a small closet, into which she entered, to seize the receiver from a telephone attached to the wall. “Give me 22 ring 2, Brookline!” she commanded. It was the number of the telephone in the house of Mr. Amos Badger. <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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