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Great Diamond Syndicate

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[150] <h2>CHAPTER X. A FATAL ERRAND.</h2> “Now tell me about it,” said Nick, as soon as they had gained the seclusion of a private room. Maynard told the story of the night, not sparing himself in the least. The detective looked very grave. “Is it serious?” asked the young man. “I am afraid so,” was the reply, “but hope for the best. We can do nothing here, so we may as well go to the Wisconsin at once.” While Maynard was cheered by the presence of the great detective, he realized that Nick’s willingness to respond to his call meant that the detective feared more than the loss of the diamonds. He would hardly have left his bed at that hour simply for the purpose of recovering diamonds which had been carelessly lost track of. Arrived at the hotel, the detective made himself known to the clerk, that being the surest way of securing the attention he required. The clerk[151] was at once all smiles, ready to answer all questions, to do anything in his power to accommodate the famous detective, whose appearance at the hotel was forever afterward spoken of as a notable event. “First,” said Nick, “we must learn whether it was really Townsend who came here. Describe the young man you have reference to.” “Medium build,” began the clerk; “brown hair, light mustache, blue eyes, Roman nose, very fair complexion.” “That is the man,” said Maynard. “Wait,” said Nick. “How was he dressed?” “Suit of blue basket cheviot, sack coat, vest cut high, dark-brown derby hat, wing collar, blue four-in-hand tie with red threads in it, small diamond pin on the tie, long cuffs with amethyst buttons, diamond ring on the little finger of the left hand.” “That was Townsend,” said Maynard. “You ought to have been a detective,” said Nick to the clerk. “Now show us to the room to which he was taken.” “But the message which called him to the[152] room,” suggested Maynard. “What about that? Who sent it, and from what place was it sent?” “That we may learn of the man whom he visited,” said Nick, and the three took the elevator to the third floor. The halls were well lighted, but seemed deserted, and they were alone in the elevator, with the exception of the boy operator. “The man who took the room seems to be awake,” said the clerk, pointing to the transom over the door of room 43. “There is a light inside.” The clerk knocked on the panel of the door, but there was no response. “Perhaps he is asleep,” said the clerk. “I’ll try him again.” There was no response to the second summons, and the detective took out his picklock. In a moment the door flew open. Nick stepped inside, then turned and faced Maynard in the doorway. His face was paler than usual, but there was no excitement in his manner. “Wait a moment,” he said to the young man.[153] “Prepare yourself for a shock before you step into the room.” “Who is there?” whispered Maynard, who seemed to have lost the power of loud speech. “Is he ill?” The clerk brushed by the two men, and advanced to a table which stood at the centre of the room, and at which a figure clad only in white underclothing was half sitting, half lying, with arms resting on the top. “Ill!” cried the clerk, in a tone of horror. “The man is dead!” Maynard sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands. He knew only too well the form at the table. Nick turned to the clerk, and asked: “Is this the young man who was summoned to this room by a call?” “Yes,” was the hoarse reply. “But you stated that he left the hotel almost immediately.” “Some one left,” was the horrified reply, “and that some one wore the clothes I described to you. See! This young man has been stripped, and[154] there are the clothes of the man who made the exchange!” There could be no doubt about it. The dead man at the table was Townsend. The grief of Maynard was pitiful. “If I had only taken my chances with the diamonds,” he muttered. “Poor Townsend, to come to this at last! It was all my fault, Mr. Carter. I sent him to his death!” “The diamonds!” echoed the clerk. “Does this mean robbery as well as murder?” “That remains to be seen,” replied the detective. As Nick spoke, he lifted from the floor a small square of oiled silk, red in color. He held it up for the inspection of Maynard. “Were the diamonds wrapped in this?” he asked. Maynard nodded. “That is only part of the wrapping,” he said. “Were the diamonds of great value?” asked the clerk. “Half a million,” was the short reply. Nick now regarded the jewels as a small part of the[155] case. The thing to do was to locate and punish the murderer of Henry Townsend. The clerk stepped back in wonder. “He should have left them in the safe,” he said. “That is what he came here to do,” said the detective. “Now, before the coroner or the police are notified, I must search this room for some clue to the identity of the murderer. But first, tell me everything you know regarding the occupant of this room, the person who murdered this poor boy, and walked out of the hotel dressed in the victim’s clothes. When was the room taken?” “Not ten minutes before the young man you call Townsend came.” Maynard sprang to his feet. “Then the murderer knew where Townsend was going when he set off on foot from the café—knew where he was going and what he carried, and laid a trap for him!” he cried. “What was said?” asked Nick. “He came to the desk and asked if any one had called for Martin Haynes. I said that there had been no such party asked for. Then he said that he had a message for a friend of his who might[156] call there during the night. If he did call, he was to be sent up to room forty-three. When Townsend came in I gave him the message, and he went up at once. I don’t know what the message was.” “Townsend said nothing about leaving a parcel in the safe when he came in?” “No, sir. He seemed surprised at the message, and went straight to the elevator.” “How was the person who took this room dressed?” “All in black, including hat, tie, and frock coat. He was a dusky sort of fellow, with black eyes and hair; just about Townsend’s size.” “Not like Townsend in feature or complexion?” “Not in the least,” replied the clerk slowly, with a look of perplexity growing on his face. “I can see now,” he added, “how mistaken I was in supposing that it was Mr. Townsend who left the hotel. I can’t understand, however, how I came to be so careless, for it is my duty to know what goes on here at night.” “I presume that you did not notice the person who went out, except generally, and were deceived by the clothes worn,” said Nick. [157] “Of course that is it,” was the reply, “but all the same, I don’t make many mistakes like that. I couldn’t keep my job if I did.” “And the person who engaged the room gave the name of Martin Haynes?” asked the detective. “Yes, sir.” “Register?” “Yes, sir.” “Any baggage?” “No, sir,” replied the clerk. “He paid in advance for one night, and nothing was said about baggage.” “Who occupied this room yesterday?” “A young man who comes here once a week, usually Thursday. He travels for a wholesale house.” “Does he always have this room?” “Oh, no, sir.” “Then he does not leave his clothing or toilet articles here?” “He does not.” “How long since has a woman occupied the room?” The clerk pondered a moment. [158] “At least two weeks,” he replied, at length. “It may be more than that.” “That is all for the present,” said Nick. “We’ll come down presently, and look at this Mr. Haynes’ signature on the register. By the way, was it a very stout person?” “On the contrary, he was a very slender man,” replied the clerk. “Mustache?” asked Nick. “Yes, sir, a black mustache.” “Hands large or small?” “Quite small, sir, and sparkling with a fine ring.” “Diamond?” asked the detective. “Yes, sir. The real thing.” “Send in the night elevator boy when you go out,” said Nick. <hr class="chap" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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