Rensselaer Journal, Volume 11, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 September 1901 — THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY [ARTICLE]

THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY

BY RODRIGUES OTTOLENGUI.

Author of “An Artist In Crime, w “A Conflict of Bvidenoe,” “A Modern Wieard,” “Final Proof,” Etc. OopvrioltL 1896, by O. P. Putnam' l Bonn AU riohu rtmrvtd.

I CONTINUED.] ••You do!” exela. **. Barnes, sv prised. He had coum c r •> this at telling point. Ilowevtu, 1 -dd “Well, did you know that the ,v , came to blows; that this oxen., .■ son, whose cause you espouse so wa 1 ly. struck his father a blow winknocked him down?” “No,” admitted Mr. Mitchel. “I did not know that.” “I have two competent and trustworthy witnesses to that fact. After striking his father Mora then returned to the dancing ball, while the old man went off breathing veugennee and swearing that he tvould kill his son if the latter should dare to return home. What do you say to that?” “Of course a quarrel is frequently the antecedent to a killing, but the bare fact that there lias been a quarrel does not prove that murder was a consequent result. From your own s.atemeiit it was the father who uttered the threat. Had the son been killed your evidence would have more point.” “You are not easily made to yield up your own opinions. Let me give you my best proof. You recall the valet who put on his master’s clothing in order to tempt me to follow him?” “No, no, Mr. Barnes! Give the devil his due. The clothing was put on the valet merely ns a pretended ruse. You were expected to detect this and to deduce therefrom that the master himself did not wish to be tracked. As was planned, you did not follow, the valet, and therefore he was enabled to carry out his master’s wishes.” “That is of no consequence now. I have learned that this man is himself a well known crook.” “I know that.” “You seem to know everything,” said the detective testily, “but you cannot know this—l have had that man arrested and detained as a witness in this case. He has given important evidence.” “Against whom?” “Against Mora, of course, nedociares that he was aroused by the noise of the struggle between Mora and his father and that, hurriedly dressing himself, he reached his master’s room just as the latter returned to it. " .sfora was much agitated and was nttired only in his shirt and undergarments. This accounts for the blood upon his wristband and, you see, tits very well the tlieory advanced by your crank Preacher Jim.”

“Very well, indeed,” said Mr. Mitchel. “Anything more?” “The valet further declares that he assisted Mora to dress again and saw him leave the house attired in I’ie plaid suit, exactly In accord with the story told by th& watchman. What do you say now of your friend?” “That I am glad he is out of reach of your blunders.” “How? Not yet convinced of this man’s guilt?” “It is impossible for me to think a man guilty when I know him to be innocent! You note mj* words—l know him to be innocent!” “You cannot know what is untrue.” “Certainly not, hut 1 know this man is innocent because I know who is guilty.” “You know who is guilty!” exclaimed Mr. Barnes, more astonished than ever. *

“Yes. But here we are at the house. Come iu, and I will make it all clear to you.” They left the cab and ran up the stoop, but before Mr. Mitcliel could fit his latchkey into the lock the door was opened by his valet, who had been waiting up for him. “There is some one to see you, sir,” said the valet at once. “Some one to see me!” exclaimed Mr. Mitcliel. “At this hour?” “Yes, sir. He came at 11 and said that he would wait. He insisted that you would be at home tonight.” “But how could he know that when it was by the merest chance that I did return?” “I don’t know, sir, but he seemed certain about it. I thought best to sit up, too, as he’s a rather queer customer. He says his name is Preacher Jim.” “Preacher Jim!” cried Mr. Mltchel. “This will be interesting, Mr. Barnes. Come with me. Where is he?” “Iu the library, sir.” Mr. Mitcliel and Mr. Barnes went to the library and were met by Preacher Jim, who advanced as they entered. “You have come at last. I am glad that I waited, but relieve my suspense at once. Tell me, and so they are really married?” “Of whom are you speaking?” asked Mr. Mitcliel. “Of Matthew Mora and Lilian—Lilian Y'ale.” “Yes; they are married. How did you suspect this?” “I did not suspeot it; I knew It. Did I not tell you that our society knows all that passes which Is of Interest to its members?” , “Yes; but that does not explain your knowledge of my movements.” “Oh, you Want details! They are uninteresting, mere routine. I knew when you left town, because I saw you go, taking lillian with you. I also knew that Mora had gone and that your friend here, Mr. Barnes, detect-

ive, had followed tnat young man. I did not cart to play the spy myself, so I merely telegraphed to competent agents in Boston, and they kept you all In sight from the moment 1 when you reached Boston. Two hours ago I received this telegram.” He handed a blue paper to Mr. Mitchel on which were the words: “Girl married. Mitchel returns I 9 Mora’s clothes. Barnes following.” “Ha, ha!” laughed Mr. Mitchel. “Your agent was shrewder than Mr. parnes, for he saw through my disguise.” “You have not explained that yet, and I am entirely in the dark about this marriage of which you speak,” said Mr. Barnes. Mr. Mitchel invited the two men to be seated, ordered some wine and cigars and then related all that he had discovered about the abandoned baby, about Lilian Mora and finally about his visit to Boston. “As I entered the hotel,” he continued, “I saw you, Mr. Barnes, seated near the window, your face concealed behind a newspaper. I hurried by, as I did not wish you to see me. After bringing Mora to the point of agreeing to marry I took Lilian and the child to his room. It was a happy reunion, I assure you, and I am certain that the result will be equally so. Very shortly after the clergyman arrived, and the nuptial knot was tied. Then I took Mora aside and explained the danger which awaited him down stairs; that. In fact, you would surely arrest him for. his father’s murder before he could leave town. He completely lost his nerve. Having just made full reparation for the only wrong of which he had been guilty, he was entirely overwhelmed by the new disaster which threatened. It was I, therefore, who advised him how to act. I made him divest himself of his clothing, in which I dressed myself, and 1 exchanged satchels with him. Then I hurried down stairs, making noise enough to attract your attention, Mr. Barnes, but keeping my face so turned that you would not see it. As I had expected, the satchel in my hand satisfied you that I was about to leave the city, and therefore you followed me. I presume you did not arrest me in Boston because you thought it would save time to allow me to return to New York." “Yes; you completely outwitted me, Mr. Mitchel, but I am still under the impression that you have made a grave error; that, in fact, you have assisted a murderer to escape. I have told you what convincing evidence I have.” “Convincing evidence which, however, leaves me unconvinced,” said Mr. Mitchel.

“You said in the cab that you know who is guilty.” “You know who is guilty!” exclaimed Preacher Jim. “You know?” “Yes, Preacher Jim! Yes, Mr. Barnes! I know!”

“You think that it was Slippery Sam?” inquired Mr. Barnes. “No; I do not think that, although I could tell you that which might lead you to believe so.” “What do you mean?” Mr. Mitchel related the facts In connection with the discovery of Matthew Mora’s will and reminded them of their theory that It might itave prevented the staining one side of the pocket. He then produced the will itself,sand, showing them the blood upon one side of it, remarked: “You see, we were correct. The murderer wore that plaid suit over his own clothing, and the blood soaked through. He thrust the will' into his trousers pocket, however, and thus the blood stains found there are accounted for.” Mr. Barnes became greatly excited throughout this recital. “Now we come to the point!” he cried. “Your belief is that this will was placed in the pocket of Slippery Sain on the night when lie was killed and that he himself knew nothing of it?” “Bravo, Mr. Barnes! That is precisely my idea.” "Furthermore, you believe that the man who killed Mr. Mora was the same who killed Slippery Sam?” x “Bight again,” said Mr. Mltcjhel. “Then once more I have you!” cried Mr. Barnes triumphantly. “It was young Mora who murdered Slippery Sam.” ITO BX CONTLNUXD.J

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