The Spruce Street Tragedy; or, Old Spicer Handles a Double Mystery

"You received my telegram all right?"

"Yes. I happened to be at the office, and so received it in less than a quarter of an hour after you sent it."

"That's better than the telegraph people usually do."

"You're right, Mark; but they're learning not to fool much time with our office. They're beginning to find out that it isn't healthy."

"I'm glad to hear it. And now tell me, my good friend, can you devote a little time to me for a day or so?"

"Most certainly. But let me ask again, what's up? Your message, you know, gave me no sort of idea."

"True. Well, I'll tell you. We've had a murder in our place – a most cowardly affair."

"That sort of thing happens pretty often up your way, doesn't it?"

"Well, we do seem to have more than our fair share of cowardly murders and kindred crimes; but this was a peculiar case – a most unnecessary killing."

"The victim was an old woman – a Jewess or a German, wasn't she?"

"Yes."

"Kept a low barroom or something of the sort?"

"You're right, the place was a regular dive, but had been carried on with so much secrecy that even the police never really knew what was going on there."

"Hum, have you any idea who the murderer or murderers were?"

"I know this much: they came up from New York – probably that very evening, and it's more than likely returned the same night."

"Hum, New York parties, eh?"

"Yes; but I think one of them must have been pretty well acquainted in our city, and particularly well acquainted with the murdered woman and her establishment."

"You have no idea who he is?"

"He is called Hen, and has a young lady friend, with whom he is pretty intimate, somewhere on Sixth Avenue, in this city. That's all I know."

Detective Killett became very thoughtful.

At length he asked:

"How did you gain this much information?"

Old Spicer informed him.

"Oho!" exclaimed Killett, when he had finished, "that was the way of it, eh? Then your men are as good as bagged."

"How's that?" asked Spicer, eagerly.

"It's plain enough," was the answer. "You will know Barney Hawks and Jake Klinkhammer whenever and wherever you see them again, I suppose?"

"Most decidedly, yes."

"Well, trust me, they will be making for this city as soon as they've had an interview with that Sadie Seaton. If you had gone to her, most likely she would have lied to you; but she will tell these villains just where Hen and his pal can be found. We must, therefore, be on hand to receive them when they arrive, and follow them wherever they go till they lead us to our game, then, at the right moment, we can bag the whole lot."

"Killett, you're a trump. I salute you!"

"Thanks, Mark. Such a compliment, from the very prince of detectives, is particularly agreeable."

"You are worthy of the best compliment I can pay, old friend. And now let's see: when does the next train arrive?"

"Seven o'clock."

"Seven o'clock; they won't be on that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, quite so."

"Couldn't they have caught it?"

"Hardly."

"Why not?"

"They would be detained some time with the girl; and then, I fancy, they would be too shrewd to take the train at New Haven."

"You're right, by Jove! Now what station would they be most likely to get on at?"

"Either Woodmont or Milford; and as Woodmont is a small place, and Milford quite a town, for obvious reasons, I think they would go to the latter."

"Doubtless. Well, the next train leaves Milford at 5.31, and arrives here at eight o'clock. Can they have caught that?"

"Quite easily, I should say."

"Then we must have a sharp eye on the passengers arriving by that train."

"But it is usually quite a long train, I believe; and there are so many ways of getting out of the Grand Central Depot – can we two manage the thing alone?"

"I was just thinking of that, and I fancy we had better have a little help. Do you remember Stark?"

"What – your old friend, Silas?"

"The same."

"Yes, I remember him well."

"Glad to hear it. You've no objection to my calling him in?"

"None in the world. I shall be glad to have his assistance."

"Then I'll send for him and Rouse. It so happens they are in this neighborhood. Excuse me a moment, and I'll telephone for them," and Detective Killett left the room.

In a few moments he returned, and ten minutes later Silas Stark and Reuben Rouse entered the apartment.

Old Spicer minutely described Barney and Jake, and both Silas and Reub thought they should recognize them without the slightest trouble.

But Killett suddenly started a possible difficulty.

"These fellows are cunning rascals," he said; "ten to one, when they land, they will be disguised."

"Right, by Jove!" exclaimed Old Spicer; "and if they are as cunning as I think they are, they'll separate, and reach their objective point from different directions."

"Just so; and we must be prepared for any such little game." Then, turning to the man he called his right bower:

"Silas," he asked, "do you think you can penetrate any disguise they may assume?"

"I fancy I shall know that Hawks, sir," was the answer; "for, if I am not greatly mistaken, I have seen the villain more than once already."

"And you, Rouse?"

"I reckon I can get on to the Jew, sir," replied Reub.

"How'll you know him?"

"I shall know him by his nose, sir. He can't disguise that, I take it."

Both Killett and Old Spicer laughed.

"A good ear-mark to go by," observed the latter.

"Ear-mark, eh? I shouldn't have thought to call it by that name."

"It's about time for the seven o'clock train to arrive," said Killett, suddenly; "any use in going over, think?"

"It will do no harm," returned Old Spicer; "but, as I said before, it's hardly possible for them to have caught it."

"No matter, let's go across any way," and the quartet of detectives went over to the depot, and planting themselves at different points, waited for the train.

Very soon it came rolling in, and every passenger was brought under the eye of one or the other of the quartet.

At length the last had gone, and neither Barney nor Jake had been seen.

They went back to the hotel and held another consultation, which lasted for nearly an hour.

Again, as the pointers of Old Spicer's faithful watch indicated that the hour of eight had almost arrived, they crossed over to the depot and stationed themselves as before.

Presently the train came in, and the passengers began to crowd their way out of it and hasten toward the street.

Soon Barney and Jake made their appearance, disguised in the overcoats and hats "borrowed" from the rack in the hall of the murdered Marsden's house.

Old Spicer, who, during the past hour had carefully disguised himself, and Silas Stark caught sight of them at the same time.

The precious pair walked for some distance toward the exit, conversing together in low and hurried tones. Then they separated, Jake pressing on ahead, and ascending to the elevated railway station, while Barney passed out on to Forty-second Street, and hurried toward Sixth Avenue.

Old Spicer made a signal to Killett, and the two followed Barney.

Seeing this, Silas Stark motioned to Reub, and together they hurried up-stairs after Jake.

Barney kept on toward Sixth Avenue, little suspecting who was behind him.

He ascended to the elevated station at the corner of the avenue and Forty-second Street, on the down-town side, and was the first to board a train that stopped just as he reached the platform.

A moment later the two famous detectives were in the same car.

Barney paid no attention to the other passengers, but turning his head, gazed steadfastly out of the window.

At the station nearest to Christopher Street, he got off, and hurrying down that street, turned into Hudson. Then he began looking for No. 515, the two detectives still close behind him.

At length he found the saloon, and after one hasty glance, entered it.

Old Spicer and Killett approached the door. A hard-looking bummer was loafing on the outside, waiting for some one, or any one, out of whom he might beat a drink.

"Who runs this establishment?" asked Killett.

"Jimmie Taylor," was the prompt reply.

"Ah! Jimmie Taylor, eh? Guess this will do for us. Let's go in and have something."

"Thank ye, sir, I don't mind if I do," exclaimed the bum, with alacrity.

"I wasn't speaking to you, sir," laughed Killett. "However, come along; I don't mind planting another nail in your coffin."

They entered, and discovered Barney at a table in a corner, with a glass of whisky before him.

"Barkeeper," said Killett, "give this fellow what he calls for, and bring us two sours to the table over there;" and they took seats at some little distance from Barney, but within earshot, provided any one should speak to him.

The "bum" ordered a whisky straight, and when he had been supplied with his favorite fluid, the barkeeper built the sours and took them to his waiting customers.

While he was receiving his pay, Barney made a slight motion to him with his hand, which Old Spicer caught, and at once prepared to see what came of it.

The barkeeper turned and went over to the corner.

"Listen with all your ears now," said Old Spicer, in a low and rapid whisper, "for the time has come for us to learn something."

"I'm ready to drink it all in," replied his companion, quietly.

CHAPTER XIV.

JIM TAYLOR MAKES HIS APPEARANCE

"Where's the proprietor?" asked Barney, as the barkeeper approached his table.

"Don't know," was the reply; "hasn't been around much for the past two or three days. Him and his chum are having a pretty loud time of it, I reckon."

"His chum? Do you mean Hen Chamberlain?"

"No, that ain't his name."

"No, of course not. What am I thinking of? Frank Clark's more like it, eh?"

"That's the man."

"So they're off together?"

"I suppose so; they're together most of the time – thicker than thieves, by Jove!"

"Damon and Pythias over again, eh?"

"I should say so."

"Taylor hasn't been in this morning?"

"No."

"Wasn't he here yesterday?"

"Only for a little while. Do you want to see him?"

"I jist do that."

"Anything up?"

"Nothing very alarming. I heard he wanted to sell this place. Do you know anything about it?"

"I hadn't heard that he wanted to sell it, but I reckon he'd be glad enough to."

"'Tain't paying very well, I reckon?"

"Not first-rate; but if a man had a little capital, and would make it a little more attractive, it could be made to pay first-class."

"That's exactly what I think. I've got an idea or two that I believe can be made to work here, and pay big."

"Shall you be alone?"

"No; I shall have a partner. Expect him here every moment."

"If you should make a trade you will want a barkeeper, I suppose?"

"Certainly; and if Taylor speaks well of you, there's no doubt but you can stay on if you want to."

"He ought to speak well of me. He trusts me with everything. You can see for yourself, he goes off for days together, and leaves me to run the establishment alone."

"I see, and I'm sure you're jist the man we shall want."

"Thank you, sir. Will you take something more, sir?"

"Don't mind if I do."

The barkeeper went behind the bar, placed a bottle and two glasses on a salver, and returned.

"This is on me," he said, seating himself opposite Barney, who, after he had taken a drink, asked:

"This Frank Clark, do you know him?"

"Only as I have seen him here," was the reply.

"He's from down East, isn't he?" asked Barney.

"Yes, Connecticut way, I believe," returned the other.

"Where does he board?"

"Don't think he has any regular boarding-place."

"He has a room, I suppose?"

"Yes; but I don't know just where it is."

"It's in this neighborhood?"

"Yes; but I can't give you the street and number."

"He visits a girl on Sixth Avenue pretty often, I hear."

"Yes, and a thundering pretty girl she is, too."

"What's her name?"

"Cora Bell."

"To be sure, I remember now. I suppose you don't know her number?"

"Yes, I've heard it often enough to know it."

"What is it, then?"

"Twenty-two. But I say, are you going to try to get her away from Clark?"

"Hardly, seeing I'm not much of a lady's man. But the fact is, my young friend, if we're going to do anything about this matter, we must do it to-day; and if Taylor don't show up pretty soon after my partner arrives, we must try to find him, and I thought, seeing he was with Clark so much, that it might be well for us to pay a visit to Clark's girl."

"You're right, sir, they do go there a good deal."

"Of course, and here's my man at last. Mr. Klinkhammer, permit me to introduce you to Mr. Taylor's representative; I have had quite a talk with him while waiting for you, and have promised that he shall keep his place, in case we succeed in buying out the establishment."

Jake took the cue in an instant.

"Glad to see you, sir," he said. "Like your looks, sir. Shall pe wery glad to 'ave you vid us."

Then seating himself, and coolly appropriating the barkeeper's glass, and filling it from the bottle, he asked, after taking a good swallow:

"Vhere vos Mesther Taylor?"

"That I don't know," answered the barkeeper. "I have just been explaining to Mr. – , your friend here, how it is that I have seen very little of him for the past few days."

"Has he been out uv town?" asked Jake, carelessly.

"Not that I know of," was the answer. "But he might have gone to Boston or Halifax, and I be none the wiser."

"I see, I see. He goes und comes schust when he bleases, und leaves you here to run der shebang."

"Exactly so, sir."

"Vell, dot vos all right."

"It's all right, provided we find him," said Barney.

"Dot vos schust vot I meant. Und if ve don't – "

At that moment a not bad-looking young man, of some twenty-one or twenty-two years of age, with the evident marks of recent dissipation upon him, entered the saloon.

He cast a hasty glance about him, and ended with an inquiring look directed toward the barkeeper, who started hastily to his feet.

"These gentlemen are anxious to see you on private business," he explained. Then turning to the two burglars: "This is Mr. Taylor," he said.

"You want to see me, do you?" asked Taylor, coming up to the table and looking them squarely in the face.

"That's exactly what we want, sir," answered Barney, quietly.

"What's your business?"

"You own this establishment?"

"I own the lease and the business."

"Got a license, I suppose?"

"Of course."

"We want to buy the business."

"The devil you do!"

This was said with a good deal of energy, and with some show of interest.

"That's what we want," said Barney.

"You vill sell, eh?" put in Jake.

"I shall be blamed glad to sell, provided I don't have to give the place away."

"All right, we're the men to talk with you," said Barney, confidently.

"Come with me, then," and he led the way into a back room.

"Can you get near enough to them to hear what is said?" asked Old Spicer, hurriedly.

"I think so," answered Killett, with a confident nod.

"Then suppose I go to Miss Bell's and see what I can make out of her?"

"The very thing!"

"I suppose Stark and Rouse are somewhere outside?"

"Without doubt."

"They'd better stick to you, eh?"

"Yes, for the present, I think."

"Where'll I meet you?"

Killett reflected.

"If you don't find some one in front of Miss Bell's when you leave her," he presently said, "why, come back here. One of us will be around waiting for you."

"All right. And now I'm off," and, starting up from the table, Old Spicer sauntered from the saloon.

CHAPTER XV.

THE TRUE STORY OF THE MURDER

Detective Killett also arose from the table, and, approaching the bar, asked:

"Have you got a quiet little room handy, where I can drink one or two whisky punches by myself, and do a little writing?"

"Why – yes, there's a room in there that's vacant," answered the barkeeper; "but we haven't any writing materials."

"Don't let that trouble you," returned Killett, cheerfully, as he exhibited a pad of paper and a stylographic pen; "you see I carry my tools with me."

"All right then. I'll show you to the room, and bring you a punch as soon as I can get it ready."

"Thanks, my friend," and Killett followed him through the door by which Taylor and the couple with him had disappeared a few moments before.

On passing the door the detective found himself in a narrow hall, on one side of which was a black walnut partition, reaching about half way to the ceiling.

In this partition were two doors, leading to two small rooms, fitted up for card-playing.

The first of these rooms was now occupied by Taylor's party.

Killett was shown into the other.

He was in an agony of apprehension for fear those in the next room would hear the door open, or catch the sound of the barkeeper's voice.

But nothing of the kind happened. The door was opened noiselessly, and the barkeeper merely said:

"Here you are, sir. I'll bring the punch presently."

Killett nodded, and the dispenser of liquid refreshments went away.

The detective now seated himself close to the partition between the two rooms, took out his pad of paper and his pen, and prepared to listen with all his ears to what might be going on in the other apartment.

The first words that reached him were spoken by Taylor.

"So you ain't so blamed anxious to buy after all?" he was saying.

"That depends upon circumstances," returned Barney, quickly.

"What circumstances?"

Barney seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he abruptly asked:

"When did you see Hen Chamberlain last?"

"Who?" demanded Taylor, in a tone of surprise.

"Oh, pshaw! You know well enough who I mean. Call him Frank Clark, if you like."

Taylor started slightly, but presently said, calmly enough:

"You know Clark, do you?"

"Yes, old fellow, we know him from 'way back," was the reply, "but up our way he is Henry Burton Chamberlain."

"Hum," muttered Taylor; "I suppose that is his name."

"Of course it is; and it seems to me that there need be no more mystery among friends."

"Ah! but remember, gentlemen, you are both strangers to me."

"That's true enough; but we are not strangers to Hen Chamberlain."

"Let's see – did you mention your names?"

"I don't know that we have to you. But that's an omission readily corrected. Mine is Barney Hawks, and this is my pal, Jake Klinkhammer."

"Ah, yes, I have heard Chamberlain speak of you. If I remember rightly, you have been in two or three little affairs with him?"

"I should say we had! and a good many more than two or three."

"You are pretty good friends of his, then?"

"We have proved that to his satisfaction a good many times, I believe."

"Well, that's all right. And now why can't we talk business?"

"Why, the fact is, Mr. Taylor, before we go any further in this matter, we would like to see Hen."

"What do you expect to gain by seeing him?"

"Something in the way of funds, if you must know."

"Ha, ha! I'm afraid you'll find there isn't much in that mine worth working."

"There ought to be, considering the rich vein you and he opened the other night."

"What do you mean?" demanded Taylor, now fairly startled.

"Oh, come, my boy," said Barney, quietly, "we know all about it, and can name pretty nearly the sum you brought away with you."

"You can?"

"Yes."

"Where did you get your information, in the fiend's name?"

"We have seen Sadie Seaton."

"The deuce you have! Are you detectives?"

"Detectives? Thunder! What are you talking about? I told you a moment ago who we were."

"I know, but – "

"But you don't believe us. Why, man, we had planned to do that little job ourselves. You only got in ahead of us, that's all."

"Then what's the matter – what do you want of us?"

"Well, the fact is, there was a little treachery practiced on us by Mr. Henry Chamberlain. It was our job; he knew it, and now we claim our fair share of the spoils."

Taylor lay back and laughed a bitter, ironical laugh.

"What the deuce is the matter with you?" demanded Barney, almost savagely.

"May I ask you one question?" inquired Taylor politely.

"Of course; what is it?"

"How much do you think we got out of that little job?"

"Close on to twenty thousand dollars."

Again came the bitter, ironical laugh.

"Twenty thousand dollars, eh?"

"Yes, close on to that."

"You feel pretty sure of it?"

"Yes; I tell you Sadie was pretty well posted. She knew what the old woman had by her that night; and the place shows for itself that you went through it thoroughly."

"Well, how much will you give me for my share of the boodle?"

"Mind, Taylor, we claim one half of all you brought away as ours by rights."

"Well, well, whatever you claim, what will you give me for all I brought away?"

"Four thousand dollars."

"Done! Ha! ha! that's the best bargain I ever made."

"In the devil's name, what's the matter with you, man? Are you trying to come some game over us?"

"Petter not!" growled Jake, warningly.

"There's been a pretty game played by some one," said Taylor, gloomily; "but it's been a bitter one for me. You think I brought away ten thousand dollars, don't you?"

"About that, yes."

"Well, the exact sum I got out of the job was – twenty-three dollars and seventy-one cents."

"Twenty-three dollars and seventy-one cents! Young man, what are you giving us?"

"I am giving it to you straight. That's all I got."

"And Chamberlain, how much did he get?"

"Twenty-two dollars."

"He made you believe that, did he?"

"That's all he had. We divided in the cars, coming home."

"Hum, there's something I don't understand here somewhere. Either Chamberlain has cheated you, or – But suppose you tell us about the affair from the time you left this city."

"Well, I don't mind. We left the Grand Central Depot at 6:45 Monday night, and arrived in New Haven at 9:30.

"We had some drinks in a saloon near the depot, and about ten o'clock went to the Ernst place on Spruce Street.

"Passing through a narrow alley alongside of her blamed old rookery, we looked through the rear window and saw a certain young woman talking to Mrs. Ernst."

"Ah! did you know that young woman?"

"I did not."

"But Chamberlain did, eh?"

"Yes."

"And he told you who she was?"

"Yes."

"Well, was it Sadie?"

"Yes, it was Sadie."

"And you waited till she came out?"

"Yes."

"Did you speak to her?"

"Chamberlain spoke to her."

"What did he say?"

"I don't know. He led her a little one side and they had considerable jaw together, then she hurried away – crying, I thought."

"Humph; and what happened then?"

"Why, as soon as Sadie had left the basement, the old woman locked the front door, and then came round and fastened the back door with an iron bar."

"About what time was that?"

"It wanted just a quarter to ten."

"What did you do then?"

"We went softly down the area steps from the yard, and Chamberlain rapped on the door."

"Did it fetch the old gal at once?"

"Almost instantly. 'Who's there?' she asked.

"'It vos me, ma'am,' answered Chamberlain, disguising his voice, and talking with a German accent. 'Open, I got a letter for you.'

"'Who's it from?' asked the old woman.

"'August Tepley,' was the reply, 'and it's of special importance, I can tell you.'"

"I know that August Tepley," interrupted Barney, at this point. "He's a relative of the old woman, and came over from Bavaria awhile ago."

"Und I know him too," grunted Jake. "But go on, Mr. Taylor."

"Well," continued Taylor, "Mrs. Ernst took off the heavy bar and we stepped inside, I closing and locking the door myself.

"'Let's go into the saloon,' suggested Hen. 'You've got a light there, haven't you, old gal?'