A Successful Shadow: or, A Detective's Successful Quest

"I am very glad to hear you say so. Now that I have confessed so much I will confess more. I did believe you were guilty; I did believe that you were the abductor."

"No, I loved her too well."

"You loved her?"

"I did."

"And did she know that you loved her?"

"She did."

"And did she love you?"

"I have reason to believe that Amalie loved me; I know that I loved her."

"But she is a poor girl; she could not aid you to remove the mortgages from your estates in case you should become the baron."

"It makes no difference. She is a beautiful girl, one of the loveliest creatures I ever met in all my life. I am a sad man; I shall always be sad."

"You shall always be sad?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I have lost her."

"Lost her?"

"Yes."

"She may reappear?"

"Never."

"Why do you say she will never reappear?"

"She has carried out her threat."

"Her threat?"

"Yes."

"What did she threaten?"

"To drown herself."

"What led her to make this threat?"

"She was despondent – very despondent. Shall I tell you all?"

"Yes, tell me all."

"She loved me; I am poor. I offered her my love and asked that she wait until I became the baron and then I would make her my wife. She said she could not wait."

We will leave our readers to judge of the feelings of the detective as he listened to this singular statement. All he said was:

"Then you believe she is dead?"

"Yes."

"I do not."

"You believe she lives?"

"I do not believe, August, that she was fooling you. She is indeed a very beautiful woman if all reports are true, for I never saw her. I am glad, however, that you are not implicated in any way in her strange disappearance. This shall not interfere with our friendship. I honor and respect you, in case you have properly represented everything to me. Shall we meet to-morrow and lunch together?"

"No, I cannot accept more bounty; you have been very kind."

"All right; we will meet again and I may have a pleasant surprise for you."

The detective parted from the prospective young baron and returned to his own lodgings, and once in his own room he became a very thoughtful man. The detective muttered aloud, and there was much of suggestion in his mutterings. He said:

"There is a mystery here within a mystery. There is something I have not gotten on to yet. Why should this man secrete the girl Amalie Speir? Every move of this Richards family means something. Why should they become so deeply interested in this penniless girl? It is not within the bounds of possibility that they could have in any way discovered that she is an – " Here the detective stopped short and gave utterance to an expletive more expressive than elegant, and after a little he resumed his musings, saying:

"Let me see; yes, yes, it is possible. I see I have a little exploring to do in another direction, and in the meantime I must have an eye on this dignified young baron and these Richards people. Yes, yes, there is an underlying possibility that may explain the whole matter if I can ever strike to its bottom fact, and by ginger! I will."

Jack had arrived at a conclusion that necessitated the very finest sort of detective work – indeed, his task was one of the hardest because it consisted in discovering a motive.

On the morning following the incidents related, the detective sat down to his rolls and coffee and had his paper, when a paragraph met his eyes which caused his blood to run cold. The paragraph was a brief statement under showy headlines that the body of a young woman had been found in the bushes near the Orange Mountains. There was nothing in the paragraph really to arouse so great interest on his part were it not that he was thrilled by one of those wonderful premonitions which ofttimes came to him.

Jack believed that later in the day there would come further details, and in the meantime he visited Mrs. Speir and showed her the paragraph. Mrs. Speir became greatly agitated at first, but after a moment said:

"You observe that it is a woman; my daughter is less than twenty."

"Yes, I observe that; but do you notice that the face is mutilated so the body will only be identified by the clothing? And now, Mrs. Speir, I have a few words to say. I fear you are going to be called upon to undergo a very trying ordeal, but mark my words: no matter what the later evidences may be, it is not the body of your daughter."

The woman glared but remained silent, and the detective continued:

"I believe I can discern the whole business, and more than that, I believe there is a most thrilling, startling and wonderful revelation under all this business. But again I say, mark well my words: it is not the body of your daughter, and I tell you now I believe all the evidence will go to prove that is your daughter's body."

"You talk in enigmas."

"And I believe I know just what I am talking about. There is a great game being played; the game is an old one. The motive is something we are not 'on to' yet, but we will uncover the whole business. But let me impress upon you with the greatest earnestness that I know your daughter lives."

"Then what does it mean?"

"You can accept my word that it is an attempt to prove that your daughter is dead."

"Why should any one wish to prove that she is dead?"

"I think I can discern; I may be mistaken, but one fact is certain: some very thrilling denouement is to follow in the end, but your daughter is not dead, and you can judge how reliable is my statement when I say now that I have only seen that newspaper paragraph, but in the end the most startling evidence will be produced to make it appear that it is your daughter, and it may be necessary that you should seem to accept the evidence and hold a funeral over the body of a stranger. I repeat, a great game is being played – has been played – but we will beat it. We will catch these people in their own trap."

"But what can be their motive?"

The detective hesitated a moment and then said:

"We cannot now tell how these folks found out that your daughter is a great heiress, your heir, for you are a very rich woman; and it is possible that there may be people who are ready to step forward and claim the estate which I hold as trustee."

We will again state that the detective held no such suspicion. He was leading the mother astray for reasons that will be disclosed later on. All he desired to do at the moment was to make it appear to Mrs. Speir that his idea explained the true motive, but he knew better.

Two days later the predictions of the detective in a certain direction were all singularly verified. The clothing and other incidents indicated that the body found in the woods was that of Amalie Speir, and that the lovely girl had committed suicide. There were proofs that she was young and beautiful, and acting under the detective's advice Mrs. Speir permitted it to be assumed that she recognized the dead girl. The remains were brought to New York, taken to an undertaker's, and after the usual preparation and ceremony, were buried from there, and our hero was the only attendant who accompanied the unfortunate girl to the grave, and that same night he held a long talk with Mrs. Speir. He said:

"They have played their last card now, but I cannot discern what their motive could have been in making it appear that your daughter is dead."

Tears were running down Mrs. Speir's cheeks as she said:

"I can."

"You can?" queried the detective.

"I can."

"Well?"

"They are seeking to cover up a more horrible crime than her murder."

This same suspicion had run through our hero's mind.

We will here state that the evidences attending the discovery of the dead girl apparently indicated beyond all possibility of doubt that she had taken her own life. The mutilations which prevented a positive identification were attributed to some animal that had discovered the remains before they were discovered by the lads who reported the find; and as apparently there was no mystery in the case, the affair dropped away from immediate public attention; the circumstances did not appear to call for an investigation, but here were the facts. Mrs. Speir was positive that it was not the body of her child, and against this was the tragic testimony that her daughter's clothing and trinkets had been found on the body, and these served for identification – an identification which was apparently complete and absolute. It not being Amalie Speir, and the fact that testimonies were present to indicate that it was, seemed to make it appear almost positive that there was some deep design in the presence of those articles, and we can add that our hero sadly feared that the motive suggested by the mother was the truth, that the girl had been the victim of some heartless villain, and he concluded that if such were indeed the fact the smooth, cunning, adroit and skillful baron was the despoiler.

CHAPTER VI

JACK'S DEEP INTEREST IN THE AFFAIR – A NEW GAME – BETTER PLAY – SHOTS THAT TOLD – A SCHEME UNMASKED – A HURRIED MESSAGE – THE DETECTIVE PLAYS SPANISH

It is not necessary to state that our hero was aroused and stirred to the very lowest depths of his nature. There did remain one remote chance that the motive was different from the one indicated, but such a possibility was very remote. Our hero had the deepest possible interest in the missing girl, and he did feel that if the mother's premonitions were correct that it would have been far better if indeed the dead had been veritably Amalie Speir; but as long as there was a possibility our hero was determined not to give up, and he said cheerily to the almost distracted mother:

"I think I can assign another motive for the passing off of the dead for the living, and I will solve the mystery. If Amalie, your child, is the victim of villains she still lives and we can find and rescue her, and mark my words: if any harm has come to her the perpetrators will have reason to wish that they had never been born; but on my honor, I assure you I can discern where there could have been another motive, and up to this time, if I am correct, your daughter lives scatheless of any real harm save the sorrow and anxiety she must feel in considering your sufferings because of her strange absence."

"Can you bid me hope?"

"I can."

"And you will find my child?"

"I will; remember you are a rich woman; no one can dispute your right to the great fortune I hold in trust for you, and I have a suggestion to make. I desire that you follow my suggestion."

"I will."

"It may startle you, but it is for the best."

"You are my best and only friend in these present trying conditions. I will do whatever you suggest."

"I intend with the full approbation of Mr. Townsend to turn over your fortune to you. Among your properties is a very fine house handsomely furnished. I desire that you occupy this house, take possession at once."

"My doing so will excite comment."

"No, your life has been so comparatively obscure no one will pay any attention to it. I only desire that the Richards family and this baron become aware of the fact that you have fallen heir to a great fortune. All inquiries as to the source of your wealth will remain a secret – yes, a secret forever. No one can dispute your ownership. Should there be any comment Mr. Townsend can offer the explanation, and his high reputation as a former banker and citizen will silence all comment. I have a special reason for the carrying out of this scheme, and should any one so far interest themselves as to inquire whence your fortune comes refer them to Mr. Townsend, who has acted as trustee."

Our hero proceeded to carry out the business of the transfer. He had settled the matter as to the heirship, and in the meantime Mrs. Speir very reluctantly took possession of an elegant residence, and when Mr. Townsend and our hero called upon her the latter said:

"You will have a grand home to welcome your daughter to when she returns, and this home is your own."

When everything was arranged Jack went under a disguise and through Mr. Townsend he had himself introduced as a young Spanish millionaire of excellent family.

To those of our readers who have not read the previous exploits of our hero, we will say that Jack Alvarez had lived many years in Madrid and spoke the language like a native. His boyhood years had been passed in Spain – indeed, his mother, an American woman, was in Spain when her two sons, Jack and Gil, were born.

As the young Spanish millionaire Jack went under a most radical change. He was an adept at disguises, and no one would ever have suspected in the young Spaniard who could not speak English the real Jack Alvarez, the acute detective. Our hero arranged to play a dual rôle, and it was as Jack Alvarez he met the baron. There had come a complete change over the demeanor of the baron. He appeared to have money, and he actually invited our hero to dine with him and Jack accepted the invitation, and during the meal the baron said:

"I may appear gay, but I am very sad."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, you are my only confidant; I loved Amalie Speir, the young governess, and I have been heartbroken since the discovery that the poor girl committed suicide."

"It was sad. What do you suppose could have been her motive?"

"Despondency, of course."

"What could have caused the despondency?"

"Without egotism I can say that she loved me, and my inability to marry at present caused the despondency."

"You are wrong."

"I am wrong?"

"Yes."

"Then you know what caused her despondency?"

"I do not, but I know it was not love for you, nor her inability to marry for lack of money. Were you aware that Miss Amalie Speir was an heiress?"

The baron's face assumed the hue of death, while a feeling of exultation agitated our hero's heart. That sudden pallor to a man like Jack spoke volumes.

"She was an heiress?" repeated the man, and actually in husky tones.

"Yes, she was an heiress. Do you not know that her mother has come into her share of the property, and is at present living in a magnificent mansion of her own?"

"It is all news to me. Did Amalie know that she was an heiress?"

"Certainly she did, but she was a girl who would not boast of her prospects. She was to arrive at a certain age before she came into possession. In a year or two, if she had lived, she would have been a very rich woman; but you must excuse me; I have enjoyed your treat very much; next time it will be my treat."

"But hold, I desire to ask you a few questions."

"I cannot answer any questions now; I am very busy; in fact, I will tell you that evidence has been furnished that leads the friends of Amalie Speir to believe that she did not commit suicide, but was murdered. I am investigating the facts. If it is proved that she was murdered it will go hard with her murderers, that's all."

The changing expressions upon the face of the baron were many, and every change of expression was a telltale look to our hero, and as he was doing so well he proceeded and said:

"In fact, the incidents of that death are very conflicting and complicated. Mrs. Speir is beginning to believe that her daughter is not dead, that it is all a conspiracy to make it appear that her daughter is dead in order to rob her of her fortune. So you see, my dear baron, it may be that after all you may win a rich and handsome bride. I have the case in hand and am gaining ground every day. I believe I will soon be able to establish that Amalie Speir still lives."

The baron fell back in his chair like one suddenly stricken, and as the detective gazed upon the man the thought ran through his mind: "You played me nicely there for awhile, but my turn has come. We are playing another game now."

We will say that our hero did admire the man's talents, although mystified by the incidents attending the fine play, but he was getting even in a most thrilling manner. If ever a criminal by his agitation betrayed guilt, August Wagner did so. Under the fire of the detective, so skillfully directed, the schemer lost all his equipoise, for Jack had become, as indicated, fully convinced that Wagner was at the bottom of the whole scheme, or the instrument of the party who was putting up what our detective denominated "a game." Jack kept pretending all the time that he desired to get away, but Wagner urged him in almost pitiful tones to stay.

"I haven't time."

"But tell me what are the testimonies you have secured."

"It is not in my line of business to betray our movements. I am a regular detective and I have been assigned to this case. I am determined to push through to some startling denouement."

The detective had already pushed through to a startling denouement. He had purposely lingered a long time at the dinner. The two young men had entered the place very late in the afternoon, and darkness was beginning to fall.

Jack only took a few moments to work a complete change in his appearance. He was down to active work and determined to move very fast. While working his change our hero did not lose sight of the entrance to the hotel where he and Wagner had dined, and he had prepared for what is called a "lightning change." A few moments passed and he saw Wagner leave the dining-room. He fell to the man's trail under his new guise. He saw Wagner go to a district telegraph station, saw him write a note and dispatch a messenger with it, and he muttered:

"Aha! young man, I will watch you. Never mind the messenger, I reckon it is a case where the mountain will come to Mahomet."

Having dispatched his note Wagner issued forth and walked slowly along the street, but in a short time he returned to the restaurant where he had just dined, and Jack followed him in. The detective called a waiter and addressed him in Spanish. The waiter did not comprehend, and Jack made quite a scene in his efforts to make himself understood, and finally the head waiter approached the table. Wagner was interested in the scene, as the Spaniard was only a few feet distant, and he heard the waiter say to his chief:

"This gentleman is a Spaniard; he cannot speak English. I cannot make out what he says."

The head waiter knew a few words of Spanish and managed at length to take the supposed Spaniard's order, and the latter ordered quite an elaborate dinner. He had a purpose; he desired to make time. He did so; he sat there over an hour eating very slowly and reading a Spanish paper which he had drawn from his pocket, and soon a lady entered and approached the table where Wagner sat. She said as she joined the baron:

"I received your hurried message; what has occurred?"

As the woman spoke she turned and glanced at the supposed Spaniard, and Wagner said:

"You need not fear him; he is Spanish; cannot speak a word of English. It is lucky he is there, as unconsciously he will protect us from other neighbors, and I have a great deal to say."

"Order some wine. I am greatly disconcerted and alarmed. Your note was so urgent."

"Necessarily urgent; I have the most startling information."

The man spoke in a low tone, but there were acute ears near by, and our hero distinctly overheard every word that was spoken.

"You have received startling information?"

"I have."

"In what direction?"

"As concerns Amalie."

"Well?"

"A detective is employed to work on the case."

"A detective is employed?"

"Yes."

"I thought the affair had dropped from public notice.'

"On the contrary, I know personally the detective who is employed. He is not a very smart man, but he is energetic and persistent. He told me that evidence had been procured that Amalie had been murdered."

The woman laughed in a disdainful manner and replied:

"We know better."

"Certainly we do, but an investigation in that direction has already stirred up other suspicions."

"What other suspicions?"

"Suspicions that may lead to the most perilous consequences to us."

"Consequences to us?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"In the first place it is known that Amalie is an heiress."

"Impossible!"

"It is true, and more."

"What more?"

"There are those who suspect that she still lives."

CHAPTER VII

A MEETING WITH THE BARON – STARTLING DISCLOSURES – AGAIN THE SPANISH MILLIONAIRE – SHADOWING DOWN FOR A CHAIN OF STEEL – THE DRAFT – A TRIUMPHANT TRICK – A DENOUEMENT TO COME

The woman gave a start and also uttered an exclamation that was very significant under all the circumstances, and after an interval she added:

"This is all very strange."

"Yes, it is all very strange."

"How on earth any one could have learned about that fortune is a mystery to me."

Here was an admission that made our hero almost start and utter an exclamation himself, and if the woman's remark meant what he had reason to believe it did, once again had he given proof of his wonderful acuteness.

"It is not more wonderful, mother, than the way we found it out."

Here was a second surprise for our hero. The baron had called the woman mother, and the woman, as our hero knew, was Mrs. Richards.

"Something must be done at once, Mrs. Richards."

"What can we do but wait? The girl is buried; they can never secure any evidence, and in case they do finally it will be too late."

"You know this detective?"

"I do."

"Very well, I must have time to think; I wish he were a gentleman."

"Why?"

"Then we could dispose of him."

The detective was getting a heap of information, but the information only complicated the affair; but he had learned enough to make him feel that he could carry the most pleasant assurances to Mrs. Speir.

The baron and the woman talked for some little time longer, but their words conveyed no further positive information, and finally they separated; and when once alone our hero had several problems to meditate over. In the first place Mrs. Richards was not a German woman and yet the baron had called her mother. Here was a mystery to solve. Jack did visit Mrs. Speir and told her to be hopeful – ay, more than hopeful – but he did not state the evidence on which his cheering words were founded, but he set to work to investigate the Richards family. He learned in good time that Mr. Richards was a well-known business man and a very good man as far as was known. Our hero's informant, however, shook his head when he came to speak of Mrs. Richards, and Jack asked:

"Was the lady ever married before she became the wife of Mr. Richards?"

The party questioned did not immediately answer. Jack pressed his question, and the party asked:

"Why do you wish to know?"

"I have vital reasons."

The gentleman whom our hero was questioning was a lawyer, a very shrewd man, who had the reputation of not being overscrupulous, but there were reasons why he desired to oblige our hero, and after a moment he said:

"You will not use my information?"

"Not in any way to involve you."

"My communication," said the lawyer, "is confidential?"

"Certainly."

"She was married to a German who claimed to be a baron. He was a worthless fellow; he may be living yet, but her husband, Mr. Richards, does not know of her previous marriage. The younger children are his children."

"There is a young man who is on very intimate terms with Mrs. Richards," said our hero, "known as August Wagner."

The lawyer made no remark and the detective asked:

"What do you know about him?"

"See here, I am getting into deep water."

"How?"

"You are up to something."

"I am, and if you do not give me the information I seek I shall look for it elsewhere. I think, however, you are bound to aid me."

"That young man, August Wagner, is her son by a former marriage. She pretends he is only a friend; her husband does not suspect the relationship."

Here was a bit of news that was very important and explained certain seeming perplexities. In the first place the woman had at times shown excellent feeling toward the baron, and then again she had apparently maligned him. Jack could see now the occasion – it was done to blind Mr. Richards. The woman was playing a double game.

"What have you to say concerning Mrs. Richards? Come, be open and frank with me."