Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 February 1916 — Villiers’ Disappearance [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Villiers’ Disappearance

Ttken from the I Notebook of an Old Detective

by Charles Edmonds Walk

And With Name* ind Pieces Hidden PublUhed as ■ Proof That Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction

Felix Hazard was engaged in Mb own private den at the Sutherland Detective agency’s principal offices, when a rap sounded upon the door, He bawled “Come in!" in a tone that was more a threat than an invitation to enter, whereupon the door opened and a tall, handsome girl entered and fbssed a bundle of papers upon his desk. With an Impatient scowl, Hazard reluctantly tore his eyes away from his work; but the scowl was instantly erased as he recognized thd” intruder, and a look of pleased admiration took its place. Interruptions, at a time when his keen brain was concentrated upon the unraveling of some particularly knotty problem, were his abomination; but for Helen Bertel, bis coworker and friend, he was willing, at any time to lay aside the most pressing demands. The girl, disregarding his manifestations of irritation, advanced and laid a hand upon the bundle of papers. "When you find time," said she, “here" is something the chief wants you to dip into. He’s talked to me about it, but it’s the sort of case that hardly falls within my scope. There are some features about it, though, that struck me as being rather odd." She broke off to ask, quite irrelevantly: “Felix, what is your conception of the average blue-blooded Britisher, one who has money in bales and barrels r Hazard directed a keen glance at the lovely, earnest face. He was accustomed to being called upon thus suddenly to bridge wide gaps in the other’s train of thought, and in the alert expression above him he now sought some clue to guide him at least to an Intelligent reply. Not finding any, he returned in affected derision: “G’wan, there ain’t no sich animal.” Helen’s fine gray eyes crinkled in a smile. She said: “After you’ve delved into this you’ll think differently. A month or more ago we were asked, through our London branch, to find an English scion of wealth and patrician birth whose history shatters all traditions. He came to this country some twenty-odd years ago, itappears, never married at all, but went into business' for himself. Furthermore, he succeeded. Then —believe me or not*—then be voluntarily had his allowance stopped! And he wasn’t looking for an Ameri-

can heiress. He never disappeared all those years—not until recently, in fact —hut kept in touch with home till shortly before his father died. Now, when he's entitled to inherit whole oodles of money, lie can’t be found. Think of that!” “Impossible; it’s too great a strain on the intellect." Then, with a mock heroic flourish, H&sard laid a hand upon his bosom. “Behold,” he declaimed, “1 am Rupert, the long-lost heir!” The girl laughed tolerantly and added as'she prepared to depart: “Well, anyway the co-operation of the police has been asked.—There will be a J fat fee and an unlimited expense account. They Were given the missing man’s description several days ago; reward circulars have been spread broadcast** “ . v

Once more alone. Hazard remained bowed over his desk for an hour or more, and it was not until he returned from luncheon that the bundle of papers recurred to him. He picked them up, and with no hint that he was about to enter upon one of the extraordinary episodes of his career, slipped the rubber band and spread them out on his desk. - He was not to glimpse their contents yet, however. At this juncture his telephone announcer sprang into activity with the suddenness of a surprised rattler. Drawing the desk instrument toward him, he learned that an immediate visit at police headquarters would probably reward him with information respecting a matter in which he was interested. As the Sutherland agency and all its branches worked in harmony with the regular policff, he did not ignore this hint; consequently, a few minutes later, he was closeted with Police Lieutenant Cowles and a plain-clothes man of the central detail. "Ever hear of a rough-looking' fresh-water sailor who answered to the name of Bill Hughes?” asked Cowles. Felix Hazard ran over the list of 'sailors in his well-Btocked mental directory, and finally shook his head. “I can’t identify him by your scant description,” he replied. “Perhaps, if I saw him —”* “You can; he’s, on a slab at the morgue. He was croaked with one of these slim-bladed Dago stilettos. . . But the reason I called you up is this” —he handed Hazard a small newspaper clipping—"we found this on him." Hazard carefully conned over the clipping several times, but it afforded

no light until all at once he recollected the bundle of papers that Helen Bertel had brought him. Was this what they were about? The clipping appeared thus: PERSONAL - GERARD CECIL VlL- ■' LIERS please communicate Immediately with your sister, Isabel. Tour father Is dead and one-half the estate awaits you. Persons knowing the whereabouts of said Gerard Cecil Villiers, last,heard from at Lob Angeles, Cal., where he was agent for the Regis automobile, or persona possessing any information concerning him, wiU be suitably rewarded by addressing such Information to Bruxton A Morton, Solicitors, 7 Lincoln's Inn Fields, London. ftszsrd viewed the body j»d. wag shown the needlelike weapon, which had been found reposing in the dead man’s heart. A glance told him that never before had he seen, the rugged, bronzed face with its fringe of grizzled beard, and be gave the lifeless form but a cursory attention. 3 The stiletto, however, he examined

closely. The old carved handle inis' much worn; but a recently engraved monogram was the factor that caught and held the detective’s eye—the initials D. F. “The dead man’s pockets had been rifled,” Cowles explained; “an old, worn wallet had been turned inside out —‘reefed’ —but the clipping, which had stuck to the side of one of the compartments, was overlooked or disregarded by the thief and assassin. The name Villiers, of course, made me think of the inquiry you people are making.” “I can’t help you now,” Hazard returned; “I really haven’t taken up the matter yet; but—” he paused and again regarded the stiletto —“I may run on to something that may enable you to trace that. No other clues?" Cowles shook his head. “Just what you see," said he. With this tragic angle opening up in a case in which he was interested, he was not long in acquainting himself with the contents of the bundle of papers. Much to his disappointment, however; they-contained nothing pointing to the dead man’s identity or the possible ownership of the dagger. In a brief, businesslike manner, they asserted: That Gerard Cecil Villiers, only son of John Stephen Villiers, had left the ancestral home, “The Yews,” Widibald, Surrey, in June of the year 1890, ostensibly to carve out his own fortune in the United States; that he was twenty-one at the time, and that whiie there had been no open rupture between father and son, bitterness existed on both sides owing to the young man’s determination to leave home for any reason whatever. He had been granted a liberal allowance by his father. but this had been stopped at Gerard’s request as soon as he gained confidence that he was capable of earning his own living. After sojourning in several specified Eastern and middle Western cities, with the sudden expansion of the automobile Industry he had interested himself in that growing business in which he had enjoyed more than average success as a salesman. He finally went to the Pacific coast, and was last heard from as agent of the Regis Automobile company, in June, 1910, at which time he resigned his position at Los Angeles, and departed from the city. Then was when trace of him was lost—that is* lest tu bis friends and relatives. Followed a description, which was, of course, of a stripling of twenty-one, whereas Felix Hazard was given the problem of finding a man in his fortysecond year. Also a photograph of the boy was contained in the packet, which was of far more value as a means of identification than anything else. Hazard studied it carefully, particularly directing his attention to those features which change little if any with the passage of time: Eyes, nose, contour of head and facial bones. The first question that presented itself to Hazard’s mind, after perusing these papers, was: "Why should a young man reared in the lap of luxury voluntarily give up a rich inheritance for a self-imposed exile?” Then: “What had been'the cause of the bitterness on both sides?” The detective had a definite feeling that the true reason for the separation had been concealed; that the reason given was inadequate to account for so momentous a step in_any young man’s life, however foolhardy or reckless he might be. During the ensuing weeks Felix Hazard and Police Lieutenant Cowles kept in close touch. The printed description of Villiers and the reward offered brought no important returns. The mystery of Bill Hughes’ death, and the ownership of the Italian stiletto, remained unsolved. . But during the period of activity Hazard accomplished a good deal, though as yet he did not know it; the widely separate factors had not taken concrete shape in his mind. The results of his investigations were, in short: When Villiers came to America in 1890 he had been accompanied by a friend of about bis own S&e who went by the name of Haddon Felton; the two had remained together until March, 1899, when Villiers obtained work with an Indiana automobile concern and separated rrom Felton at Buffalo, N. Y.; the two friends maintained a correspondence which gradually grew more desultory until it ceased altogether about the year 1902; that this correspondence had been renewed in May, 1910, when Felton wrote to, his friend that he was sick and destitute in New York.

What: followed was tinctured by numerous conjectural elements. Vil tiers probably sent Felton funds; for the latter went to Los Angeles and rejoined his frieng, whence the two, after Villiers had given up his position on the plea of poor health, went to a remote camp among the Blerraa -Of Calaveras county. Here, shortly, Felton died, and was buried by his fripnd upon a lonely mountain slope. Here also ended the trail of Gerard Cecil Villiers of "The Yews,” Widibald, Surrey; nor another trace of him could Hazard find.

One thing, though, did come to light, a discovery that was gruesome and at the same time indicative of Felix Hazard’s line of reasoning. Felton’s body was exhumed and an autopsy held. Haddon Felton had died of poison! Despairing after a while of ever learning anything more, or of piecing together to any definite end the few more or less detached facts that he had picked up, one-morning Hazard packed a small steamer trunk and a handbag, and something over a week later was ushered into the presence of Mr. Morton of Bruxton & Morton, solicitors, 7 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, London. His reception was as cordial as an eminently respectable London solicitor could unbend himself*to extend. It was made up mostly of vague apologies which Hazard, with characteristic directness, bluntly Interrupted. Said he: "I have come all the way to London, Mr. Morton, to learn precisely the reason why Gerard Cecil Villiers ever went to America at all. You must yourself know that the information supplied our agency was inadequate to account for this Important point; or, to be more exact, no reason at all was supplied.” The response to this request was, to say the least, startling. Said the lawyer, in a dry, precise tone: "I was trying to express my regrets, Mr.—ah —” he Bquinted at his caller’s card —"Mr. Hazard, that you should have missed our cable; it would have saved you an unnecessary journey Mr. Villiers has returned home.” For once in his life Felix Hazard was flabbergasted. He stared speechlessly at the other for a moment, then stammered: ‘‘Home! When —how —I—I —what the devil do you mean?” "I comprehend your astonishment, Mr. Hazard; it is the last intelligence for which you were prepared. Mr. Villiers arrived at my office on the very day you departed from Chicago. I repeat, we regret that our cable —” It was now the detective’s turn to interrupt. “Wait a moment! Are you sure it was Gerard ?" "Oh, yes; positively. He has not changed so much. Even his sister, Miss Isabel, who was only four at the time of his departure, recognized him instantly." During another pause Felix Hazard did some of the quickest thinking of his career. "Well,” he jinally offered, "I suppose our connection with the matter ends right here—-but, no, it doesn’t either. There is one more question you may answer, if you will. Was there ever an old servant or retafher of the Villiers named William Hughes?” Mr. Morton leaned back in his chair and thoughtfully regarded the ceiling. "Hughes? Hughes?” he repeated. “Ah, yes—l believe there was. Hughes was the, name of the faithful old fellow who followed Gerard to the states; felt that he was under an obligation to look after the heir, you understand. The surveillance was wholly without Gerard’s knowledge, though; he never knew that Hughes followed him.” Felix Hazard’s eyes gleamed. He bounded from his chair with the unexpectedness of a Jack-in-the-box. "Thank you, Mr. Mprton,” he said with effusive baste. “I must be off. But first, as we say in my country, I want to put you wise to something—something that you, as the Villiers lawyer, should know. I have the best of reasons for believing that the Villiers properties are in grave danger; if, within the next week, say, I promise to have definite and complete information for you on the subject, will you undertake to have both Mr. Villiers and Miss Isabel here at a time I shall designate by telegraph?” Mr. Morton looked startled. “Danger!” he gasped. "What do you mean?”

"Just what I say. I can’t afford to expose my hand now. I may be wholly wrong; if I am, nobody will be injured by keeping the matter to myself. But,” he concluded grimly, "I believe I’m right." The lawyer demurred and protested and tried to surprise an explanation from the detective, but fruitlessly. In the end he yielded a grudging assent to the proposed arrangement During the next fortnight Felix Hazard’s activities were amazing. In the guise of an American tourist, he explored every nook and cranny of the beautiful Surrey country; he made friends with the Villiers servants, and even found two ancients who had served the last Felton, an always obscure family, and now utterly extinct in the county. C

Then came the day when Hazard sent off a number of telegrams, one of them to Mr. Morton. The next morning he returned to London. When Felix Hazard, in company with two quiet, soberly dressed men who might have been linen-drapers, entered the Lincoln’s Inn Fields chambers of Bruxton & Morton, solicitors, he found a curious audience awaiting his arrival. The detective’s shrewd glance focused immediately upon Gerard Villiers, whom he found to be a well-preserved man, who betrayed no signs of failing health, and strikingly like the boyish photograph. Isabel was a pale, slender girl, very blonde, not at all pretty, wearing her modish clothes with the supreme unconsciousness of habit. Hazard,’ with his usual directness, plunged into the heart of his errand. "In 1890,*' he began, “when Gerard Cecli Vllllers left home, the only person who seriously objected to his going was his half-sister, Isabel, then a child of four. The father consented because he knew the boy’s purpose was Set and not without warrant. The son believed that his mother’s place bad been usurped by the second Mrs. Villiers, and—*

A sharp came from Villiers. "Why are these intimate family matters being paraded here, pray tell?" he demanded. Felix Hazard bent upon him a curious look, then replied in a tone that* vibrated with feeling: “Because they are an essential part of the story I have to tell —a presentation of facts that will clear the mystery surrounding two cruel murders, as well as facts that seriously affect the disposition of the immense Villiers estates.” Villiers paled and half started from his chair; but he dropped back again, and, white and trembling, stared at the detective like a man hypnotized. The lawyer, however, addressed Hazard sternly. ___ “I warn you, sir, that, you must either Justify your words of suffer seri-

ous consequences. are £ rav ® assertions you are making." "I assume full responsibility for everything I say here," was Hazard’s calm reply. "Now please let me continue uninterrupted.” And he was not interrupted again; not until the dramatic climax burst upon them with crushing force. "Gerard had a boyhood friend, by name Haddon Felton, and when Gerard declared his Intention of going to America, Felton expressed a. -determination to accompany him. This phase of the contemplated journey met with the opposition of two persons—the elder Mr. Villiers, and a gardener at The Yews named William Hughes. Their objections, singularly enough, were based upon identical grounds—a vague but none the less powerful distrust of Haddon Felton. Gerard, however, laughed at his father’s intangible fears, and Mr. Villiers could not press his indefinite objections. “Therefore, a few days later, when William Hughes came privately to the father and expressed similar suspicions of Felton, an arrangement was made whereby the gardener was to follow his young mas# secretly, and keep a watchful eye upon the latter’s traveling companion, Haddon Felton. So when the two friends sailed Hughes was a steerage passenger on the same steamship; in New York he found employment in the hotel at which they stopped; and so on, by similar expedients he managed to keep near them without their knowledge. "Several years passed in this way, and the gardener began to believe that his suspicions were unwarranted, and by and by Hughes, with characteristic frankness, Bought out Felton, made himself known to him, told him his purpose in coming to America and apologized for his mistaken thoughts. , “Villiers, of course, when he heard of Hughes’ presence in the United States, was surprised, but at the same time overjoyed to see him. He found a good position for the faithful servant in Chicago, and the surveillance ceased. “However, the two kept in touch. Hughes became a lake sailor, and Villiers’ employment carried him over vast stretches of country. "For one professing the warmest sort of friendship for Villiers, Haddon Felton was singularly affected by Hughes’ presence in America. Certain plans of his were upset, and where before he could act with. assurance he now had to move cautiously—fearfully. His affected illness quickly brought him and his friend together again; they were soon in a remote region among the mountains; and he resolved to act boldly. "Now, from their early boyhood up to this time there had been an extraordinary physical likeness between the 'two friends. Perhaps thiß is what brought them together; I cannot say. It is not that they were doubles, or that acquaintances would ever mistake one for the other; but such a mented on in and around Widibald, and later on in America. “Felton’s plot whs hastened by an unforeseen, happening—the death of Mr. VlP'ers, sr. He saw an advertisement inquiring for bis friend, and while he succeeded in keeping the paper from Gerard, he knew that sooner

or later bis friend must see the advertisement. They were high among the mountains of California, a spot deliberately chosen for Ms purpose; and now, Instead of waiting for the sick Gerard to die, he hastened that death with arsenic. "You see, he was counting on the years having so toned the old resemblance between the two, that Gerard’s few relatives and acquaintances in England would consider time’s passage when he appeared among them as Gerard Cecil Villiers. “Again fate intervened. Back in Chicago an .old lake sailor saw the sama advertisement, and a few weeks later, when Gerard Cecil Villiers registered at one of the city's best-known hotels, and the newspapers chronicled the appearance of a much-sought-after heir to a British fortune, Hughes hastened to him. Of course he detected the Im-

position at once. In terror and panic Felton arranged a meeting for that night. Some hours later Hughes was found with a dagger In his heart, his pockets rifled to hide the motive of the crime. "Doutbless Felton believed that he left behind no clue to connect him with the murder; that his father, Densmore Felton’s ownership of the old Italian stiletto could never be traced f perhaps he was frightened away before he could recover the weapon. For whatever reason, he left it behind." During most of the detective’s address everybody had sat as if spellbound; all except the pseudo Villiers. The man was literally paralyzed with terror and the black horror of righteous vengeance that confronted his unseeing eyes. Felix Hazard made a sign to the two men who looked like linen-drapers, and they went and stood behind the wretch’s chair. They were Scotland Yard detectives. Hazard pointed a stern, accusing finger at Felton. “There,” he grimly declared, "is the guilty man! There sits the murderet of his friend! There sits the murderel of William Hughes! There sits not Gerard Cecil Villiers, but Haddon Fek ton!” The ordeal had been too severe fo* Felton; he collapsed utterly, and a few hours later made a full confession verifying at length every one of Felti Hazard's accusations. The details cl extradition in due time having been observed, he was taken back to tbs scene of his first crime and ultimately sentenced to prison for life. Five days later, in recounting a hi* tory of the case to Helen Bertel, Felli Hazard concluded with this observe tion: "If Felton could have withstood thi ordeal that I staged for him, it is possible that he would have gone scotfree; the evidence alone was insufficient to have convicted him. I took a _ long chance —and I wpn." (Copyrlglit. 1915, by W. G. Chapman,!

This story throbs with realism In the word’s narrowest meaning. It is a faithful rendering of an authentic experience In the career of a high official of a detective agency whose -name is a household word throughout the Englishspeaking world. Real names of persohs and places are sometimes disguised. In all other respects the amazing, often thrilling, always gripping facts are recorded Just as they happened.

“The Co-Operation of the Police Has Been Asked.”

A Recently Engraved Monogram Was the Factor That Caught and Held the Detective's Eye—the Initials, F. D.