Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 146, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 June 1912 — The Grand Babylon Hotel [ARTICLE]

The Grand Babylon Hotel

Copyright by Frank A. Munsey Co. o—• — CHAPTER XXII. In the Wine Cellars of the Grand t Babylon. “Do you know anything of the antecedents of this Jules?” asked Theodore Racksole, helping himself to whisky. “Nothing whatever,” said Babylon. “Until you told me, I don’t think I was aware that his true name was Thomas Jackson, though of course I knew that it was not Jules. I certainly was not aware that Miss Spencer was his wife; but I had long sus T pected that their relations were somewhat more intimate than the nature of their respective duties in the hotel manded. all that I do know of Jules is that he gradually, by some mysterious personal force, acquired a prominent position in the hotel. “Decidedly he was the cleverest and most intelligent waiter I have ever known, and he was especially skilled in the difficult art of retaining his own dignity while not interfering with that of'other people. I’m afraid this information is a Jittlfe too vague to be of any assistance in the present difficulty.” “What is the present difficulty?” Racksole queried, with a simple air. “I should imaging that the present diflfcculty is to account for the man’s presence in London.” ‘That is easily accounted for,” said Racksole.

“How? Do you suppose he Is anxious to give himself up to justice, or that the chains of habit bind him to the hotel?” “Neither," said Racksole. “Jules is going to have another try; that’s all.” “Another try at what?” “At Prince Eugen. Either at his life or his liberty. Most probably the former this time;almost certainly the former. He has guessed that we are somewhat handicapped by otrr anxiety to keep Prince Eugen’s predicament quite quiet, and he is taking advantage of that fact. As he is already fairly rich* on his own admission, the reward which has been offered to him must be enormous, and he is absolutely determined to get it. He has several times recently proved himself to be a daring fellow; unless I am mistaken, he will shortly prove himself to be still more daring.” “But what can he do? Surely you don’t suggest that he will attempt the life of Prince Eugen in this hotel?” “Why not If Reginald Dimmock fell on mere suspicion that he would turn out unfaithful to the conspiracy, why not Prince Eugen?” “But it WOtA’d be" an unspeakable crime and do infinite harm to the hotel!”

‘True!” Racksole admitted, smiling. “little Felix Babylon seemed to brace himself for the grasping of this monstruos idea. “How could it possibly be done?” he asked at length. "Dimmock was poisoned.” “Yes, but you had Rocco here then, and Rocco was in the plot. It is conceivable that Rocco could have managed it—barely conceivable. But without Rocco, I cannot think it possible; I cannot even think that Jules woQld attempt it “You see, in a place like the Grand Babylon, as probably I needn’t point out to you, food has to pass through so many hands that to poison one person without killing fifty would be a difficult operation. Moreover, Prince Eugen, unless he has changed his habits, Ib always served by his own attendant, old Hans, and thereforq any attempt to tamper with a cooked dish immediately before serving would be hazardous in the extreme.” v

“Granted,” said Racksole. “The wine, however, might be more easily got at Had you thought of that?” “I had not” Babylon admitted. “You are an ingenious theorist; but I happen to know that Prince Eugen always has his wine opened in his own presence. No doubt is would be opened by Hans. Therefore, the wine theory is not tenable, my friend.” “I do not see why,” said Rack&ole. “I know nothing of wine as an expert and J seldom drink U. but it seems to me that a bottle of wine might be tampered with while it was still in the cellar, especially if there was an accomplice in the hotel.** “You think, then, that you are not yet rid of all your conspirators?” “I think that Jules might still bare an accomplice within the building.” “And that a bottle of wine coaid be opened and recorked without tetany trace of the operation?” Babylon was a trfle sarcastic. “I don’t see ihe necessity of opening the bottle In order to poison the "wine,” said Racksole. “I have never tried to poison anybody by means of a bottle of wine, and I don’t lay claim

to any natural talent as a poisoner, but I think I could devise several means of managing the trick. Of course, I admit that I may be entirely mistaken as to Jules’ intentions.” “Ah!” said Felix Babylon. ‘The wins cellars beneath us are one of the wonders of London. I hope you are aware Mr. Racksole, that when you bought the Grand Babylon, you bought what is probably the finest stock of wines in England, if not In Europe. In the valuation I reckoned them at 60,000 pounds. And I may say that 1 always took care that the cellars were properly guarded. Even Jules would experience a serious difficulty in breaking into the cellars without the connivance of the wine clerk, and the wine clerk is, or was. Incorruptible.” “I am ashamed to say that I have not yet inspected my wines,” smiled Racksole. “I have never given them a thought. Once or twice I have taken the trouble to make a tour of the hotel, but I omitted the cellars in my excursions.”

“But really,” said Babylon, “you must see them tomorrow. If I mayV I will accompany you.” “Why not tonight?” Racksole suggested calmly. “Tonight! It is very late. Hubbard will have gone to bed.” “And may I ask who is Hubbard? I remember the .name but dimly.” “Hubbard is the wine clerk,” said Felix with a certain emphasis. “A sedate man of 40. He has the keys of the cellars. He knows every bottle of every bin, its date, its qualities, its value. And he is a teetotaller. Hubhard is a curiosity. No wine' can leave the cellars without his knowledge, and no person can enter the cellars without his knowledge. At least, that is how it was in my time,” Babylon added.

“We will wake, him,” said Racksole. “But it is 1 o’clock in the morning,” Babylon protested. “Neyer mind! That is If you consent to accompany me. A cellar is the same by night ad by day. Therefore, why not now?” “As you wish,” he agreed. “And now to find this Mr. Hubbard, with his keys of the cupboard,” said Racksole, as they walked of the room together. Although the hour was so late, the hotel had not, of course, closed for the night. A few guests still remained about in the public ropms, and a few fatigued waiters were still in evidence. '

One of these latter was dispatched in search of the singular Mr. Hubbard, and it fortunately turned out that this gentleman had not actually retired, although he was on the point of so doing. He brought the keys to Mr. Racksole in person, aAd after he had had a little chat with his former master, the proprietor and the ex-proprietor proceeded on their way to-the cellars. These cellars extend over, or rather under, quite half of the superficial area of the whole hotel, the longitudinal half which lies next to the Strand. After descending the four flights of the service stairs and traversing a long passage running parallel with the kitchen, the two found themselves opposite a door which,' on being unlocked, gave access to another flight of stairs, at the foot of which was the main entrance to the cellars. Babylon, who, as being most accustomed to them, held the bunch of keys, opened the first cellar, the first of a suite of five. Then Babylon switched on the fixed electric lights and Theodore Racksole entered upon a personally conducted tour of what was quite the most interesfing part of his own property.

The innocent enthusiasm of Felix Babylon for these stores of exhilarating liquid was all but infectious. He displayed to Racksole’s bewildered gaze, in their due order, all the wines of three continents, nay, of four, for the superb and luscious Constantia wine of Cape Colony was not wanting in that most catholic of vintages. At the end of the suite of cellars there was a glazed door, which, as could be seen, gave access to a supplemental and smaller cellar, an apartment about 15 or 16 feet square. “Anything special in here?” asked Racksole curiously, as they stood before the door and looked within at the serried ends of bottles. “Ah!” exclaimed Babylon, almost smacking his lips, “therein lies the cream of all.” “The best champagne, I suppose,” said Racksole. - jj ••••• “Yes,” said Babylon, “the best champagne is there—a very special Billery, as exquisite as you will find anywhere. But I see, my friend, that you fall into the common error of putting

champagne first among wines. That distinction belongs to Burgundy. You have old Burgundy in that cellar, Mr. Racksole, which cost me—how much do you think? —80 pounds a bottle. Probably it will never be drunk,” he added with a sigh; “It is too expensive even for princes and plutocrats.” “Yes, it will," said Racksole quickly. “You and I will have a bottle up tomorrow.” “Then,” continued Babylon, still riding his hobby horse, "there is a

sample of the Rhine wine dated 1706 which caused such a sensation at the Vienna Exhibition of 1873. There is also a singularly glorious Persian wine from Shiraz, the like of which I have never seen elsewhere. Also there is an unrivaled vintage of Ro-manee-Conti, greatest of all modern Burgundies; If I remember right Prince Eugen invariably has a bottle when he comes to stay here. It is not on the hotel wine list, of course, and only a few customers know of it. We do not precisely hawk it about the dining room.” “Indeed!” said Racksole. “Let us go inside.”

They entered the stone apartment, rendered almost sacred by the pqe iousness of its contents and Racksole looked around with a strangely intent and curious air. At the far side was a grating through which came a feeble light. is that?” asked the millionaire sharply. ‘That is merely a ventilation grating. Good ventilation is absolutely necessary.” “Looks broken, doesn’t it?” Racksole suggested, and then, putting a finger quickly on Babylon’s shoulder. “There’s some one in the cellar. Can’t you hear breathing down here, behind that bin?” The two men stood tense and silent for a while, listening, under the rav of the single electric light in the ceiling. Half the Cellar was involved in gloom. At length Racksole walked firmly down thd central passageway between the bins and turned the corner at the right. “Come out, you villain,” be said in low, well-nigh vfeious tone, and he dragged up a cowering figure. He had expected to find a man, but it was his own daughter, Nella Racksole, upon *whom he had laid angry hands. (To be continued ’ —