The Great Diamond Syndicate E-Book

Nicholas Carter

• Herausgeber: Librorium Editions
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Nick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact that the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to the work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced no other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation of new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly from all sorts of trouble, and landed the criminal just where he should be—behind the bars.

Leseprobe

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGEI.A DARK NIGHT’S WORK.5II.CONFLICTING CLUES.21III.COVERING CLUES.38IV.A GROUP OF THREE.55V.CUNNING FOES.70VI.DEATH COMES TOO SOON.87VII.AT FOUR O’CLOCK.104VIII.HOW IT WAS DONE.121IX.MAYNARD’S FOLLY.139X.A FATAL ERRAND.150XI.A STARTLING DISCOVERY.159XII.THE HUSTLING REPORTER.166XIII.INTO THE TRAP.173XIV.THE GREAT DIAMOND SYNDICATE.181XV.A DESPERATE GAME.191XVI.MORE TROUBLE.203XVII.MORE SURPRISES.209XVIII.BY THE HAND OF A WOMAN.218XIX.MANTELLE AT BAY.226XX.FLUSHING THE BIRDS.235XXI.A CLEVER WOMAN.245XXII.THE STORY TOLD.260XXIII.THE DEN OF THE SYNDICATE.277XXIV.WHAT NICK OVERHEARD.284XXV.A DESPERATE RAID.291XXVI.NICK TAKES A CHANCE.304XXVII.BULLY COMES TO GRIEF.312

NICK CARTER STORIES

New Magnet Library

PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS

Not a Dull Book in This List

Nick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact that the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to the work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced no other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation of new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly from all sorts of trouble, and landed the criminal just where he should be—behind the bars.

The author of these stories knew more about writing detective stories than any other single person.

Following is a list of the best Nick Carter stories. They have been selected with extreme care, and we unhesitatingly recommend each of them as being fully as interesting as any detective story between cloth covers which sells at ten times the price.

If you do not know Nick Carter, buy a copy of any of the New Magnet Library books, and get acquainted. He will surprise and delight you.

ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT850—Wanted: A ClewBy Nicholas Carter851—A Tangled SkeinBy Nicholas Carter852—The Bullion MysteryBy Nicholas Carter853—The Man of RiddlesBy Nicholas Carter854—A Miscarriage of JusticeBy Nicholas Carter855—The Gloved HandBy Nicholas Carter856—Spoilers and the SpoilsBy Nicholas Carter857—The Deeper GameBy Nicholas Carter858—Bolts from Blue SkiesBy Nicholas Carter859—Unseen FoesBy Nicholas Carter860—Knaves in High PlacesBy Nicholas Carter861—The Microbe of CrimeBy Nicholas Carter862—In the Toils of FearBy Nicholas Carter863—A Heritage of TroubleBy Nicholas Carter864—Called to AccountBy Nicholas Carter865—The Just and the UnjustBy Nicholas Carter866—Instinct at FaultBy Nicholas Carter867—A Rogue Worth TrappingBy Nicholas Carter868—A Rope of Slender ThreadsBy Nicholas Carter869—The Last CallBy Nicholas Carter870—The Spoils of ChanceBy Nicholas Carter871—A Struggle With DestinyBy Nicholas Carter872—The Slave of CrimeBy Nicholas Carter873—The Crook’s BlindBy Nicholas Carter874—A Rascal of QualityBy Nicholas Carter875—With Shackles of FireBy Nicholas Carter876—The Man Who Changed FacesBy Nicholas Carter877—The Fixed AlibiBy Nicholas Carter878—Out With the TideBy Nicholas Carter879—The Soul DestroyersBy Nicholas Carter880—The Wages of RascalityBy Nicholas Carter881—Birds of PreyBy Nicholas Carter882—When Destruction ThreatensBy Nicholas Carter883—The Keeper of Black HoundsBy Nicholas Carter884—The Door of DoubtBy Nicholas Carter885—The Wolf WithinBy Nicholas Carter886—A Perilous ParoleBy Nicholas Carter887—The Trail of the FingerprintsBy Nicholas Carter888—Dodging the LawBy Nicholas Carter889—A Crime in ParadiseBy Nicholas Carter890—On the Ragged EdgeBy Nicholas Carter891—The Red God of TragedyBy Nicholas Carter892—The Man Who PaidBy Nicholas Carter893—The Blind Man’s DaughterBy Nicholas Carter894—One Object in LifeBy Nicholas Carter895—As a Crook SowsBy Nicholas Carter896—In Record TimeBy Nicholas Carter897—Held in SuspenseBy Nicholas Carter898—The $100,000 KissBy Nicholas Carter899—Just One SlipBy Nicholas Carter900—On a Million-dollar TrailBy Nicholas Carter901—A Weird TreasureBy Nicholas Carter902—The Middle LinkBy Nicholas Carter903—To the Ends of the EarthBy Nicholas Carter904—When Honors PallBy Nicholas Carter905—The Yellow BrandBy Nicholas Carter906—A New Serpent in EdenBy Nicholas Carter907—When Brave Men TrembleBy Nicholas Carter908—A Test of CourageBy Nicholas Carter909—Where Peril BeckonsBy Nicholas Carter910—The Gargoni GirdleBy Nicholas Carter911—Rascals & Co.By Nicholas Carter912—Too Late to TalkBy Nicholas Carter913—Satan’s Apt PupilBy Nicholas Carter914—The Girl PrisonerBy Nicholas Carter915—The Danger of FollyBy Nicholas Carter916—One Shipwreck Too ManyBy Nicholas Carter917—Scourged by FearBy Nicholas Carter

The Great Diamond Syndicate

OR,

THE HARDEST CREW ON RECORD

BY

NICHOLAS CARTER

Author of the celebrated stories of Nick Carter’s adventures, which are published exclusively in the New Magnet Library, conceded to be among the best detective tales ever written.

Librorium Editions 2020

Copyright, 1909 By STREET & SMITH

The Great Diamond Syndicate

(Printed in the United States of America)

All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian.

THE GREAT DIAMOND SYNDICATE.

CHAPTER I.A DARK NIGHT’S WORK.

“Your uncle murdered! It seems incredible!”

Nick Carter leaned back in his chair and looked at his visitor, dismay showing in his face.

“It is too true, old friend, Uncle Alvin was murdered in his bed last night, and diamonds to the value of half a million dollars stolen from the house.”

The speaker, Charley Maynard, was greatly excited. He was a young man who had arrived at legal age only a few months before. Almost from boyhood he had been a friend of the man of whom he now sought sympathy and advice.

“Half a million in diamonds!” echoed the detective. “I was not aware that Alvin Maynard possessed diamonds to that value.”

“They were mine,” replied the young man.

“The day is full of surprises,” said Nick. “When and how did you become owner of such a wonderful collection of precious stones?”

“They were delivered to me yesterday, at the residence of my uncle, up the Hudson,” replied Charley. “I heartily wish I had never set eyes on them.”

“A present?” asked Nick.

“My inheritance from my father,” was the reply. “As you know, he was a globe trotter from his youth up. It seems that during a visit to South Africa he became the possessor of the gems which were stolen last night. How he came by them I have no idea. I only know that there are some very fine stones in the collection, and that they were delivered to me yesterday afternoon. Now they are gone, my uncle lies dead in the house, my aunt is prostrated with grief, besides suffering severely from a blow dealt by a brutal assassin, and my cousin, Anton Sawtelle, lies wounded in his bed. It is a sad house this morning, Mr. Carter.”

“There was a struggle, then?” asked Nick. “The robbers were discovered at their work and fought for the booty?”

“That is the strangest part of the case,” said the young man. “The diamonds were stolen from a trunk in my room on the second floor of the house, and yet I heard nothing of the struggle which must have taken place. It seems that the burglars entered by way of Anton’s room and searched the entire floor. Why they should have visited the apartments of my uncle and aunt is more than I can understand. I am not a heavy sleeper, yet I heard nothing of the affair until this morning.”

“Was no one able to give the alarm until this morning?” asked Nick. “Where were the servants? Surely they must have been aroused.”

“They were not,” was the reply, “and the first intimation I had of the murder of my uncle and the loss of my diamonds was when informed by Anton of the happenings of the night.”

Nick walked the floor of his room for a moment.

“What did Anton tell you?” he finally asked.

“He said that he heard a noise during the night and arose from his bed. As he stepped out in the direction of the door opening into the hall, he was struck a savage blow, from the effects of which he did not recover until after daylight.”

“And your aunt?”

“She, too, says that she heard a noise and stepped to the door of her chamber. It was dark in the hallway, but her figure was outlined against a window in the wall at her back. While standing there, listening, she was struck on the forehead and rendered unconscious until morning.”

“And you were asleep on that floor?”

“Yes, sir, directly across the hall from the room occupied by my aunt. Uncle slept in a room at the front of the house. Anton in a room at the rear. The two rooms between these were occupied by my aunt and myself, as I have already stated.”

“The diamonds were in your trunk?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was the trunk locked?”

“No, sir, it was not. You see, we have never been molested before up there. I was not as cautious as I might have been. However, if the trunk had been locked, it would have been all the same, I imagine.”

“You might have been awakened by the forcing of the lock,” said the detective. “It is strange that you did not hear the sound of the blows which killed your uncle and left your aunt unconscious.”

“I wonder at that,” said the young man, “for I am not usually a heavy sleeper. But I hope you can come out to the house at once. The sheriff and two deputies are there, but no one save the coroner has been admitted to the second floor. Can you come now?”

“Certainly,” was the reply.

“And, another thing,” said the young man, hesitation in his voice, “I wish you to act as my personal representative in the search for the diamonds. This may seem to you a selfish request, with the murderer of my uncle still at large, but it is a matter of great importance to me. The diamonds constitute my sole inheritance from my father. Nothing can bring my uncle back to life, but the diamonds, recovered, will make my future life both useful and happy. Besides, the recovery of the diamonds must point to the murderer.”

“That does not necessarily follow,” replied Nick. “However, I will do the best I can for you. You were at your uncle’s yesterday afternoon?”

“Yes; I have been stopping there for a month, at his special request.”

“When and where were the diamonds delivered to you?”

“At uncle’s, at three o’clock. They were brought up from the city by a special messenger, who took a receipt and returned on the first train south.”

“When did you open the package containing the diamonds?”

“Immediately.”

“Where did you open them?”

“In the parlor on the first floor.”

“Who was present?”

“Uncle, aunt, Anton, Bernice, aunt’s maid, and myself.”

“Anton is your cousin by marriage only?”

“He is a son of my aunt by a first marriage.”

“I see. Where was he born?”

“In Paris. He has lived there nearly all his life.”

“Were there any servants about when the diamonds were shown? Did the servants see the diamonds at all?”

“No, sir.”

“Was the arrival of the gems talked of before the servants?”

“To some extent, yes.”

“You were about the grounds in the afternoon?”

“Yes, sir. I remember now that I sat on the side porch a long time, looking over the lawn and garden on that side of the house.”

“You observed no strangers about?”

“No, sir. Say! Two men came up from the station and passed the house shortly after the departure of the messenger who had delivered the diamonds. They passed on about two hundred yards, and then turned toward the depot. I did not see them again.”

“What sort of appearing men were they?”

“I remember now that their dress and manner gave me the impression that they were sailors.”

“The sheriff has charge of the case, I presume?”

“Sheriff Walton is there in person. He was notified quite early this morning at Anton’s request.”

“What direction is his investigation taking?”

“He has made a study of the grounds, and was at the railroad station when I came away, questioning the agent and the night watchman, who had been sent for.”

“I am glad he has been kept out of the house,” said the detective.

“I can’t get the thing through my head,” said the young man. “One man murdered, two persons assaulted and left unconscious, my own room entered and robbed, and I the only one on the floor not aroused by the noise. It seems a strange case.”

“Now about the murder of your uncle,” said Nick. “How was the death wound inflicted?”

“He was struck on the temple with some blunt instrument. He was in his pajamas and lying across the bed when found. It looks as if he had arisen to a sitting position when awakened, and was then seized by the throat. There are marks as though a struggle had taken place.”

“And your aunt?”

“There is a cut over the left eye.”

“Not a serious one?”

“Oh, no. It is difficult, however, to imagine what sort of a weapon made the cut. It seems to be three-cornered.”

“And Anton?”

“There is no question but that he was struck with a pair of iron knuckles. The wound shows that plainly enough.”

Nick remained silent for some moments. He was puzzling over the fact that the gems had been so soon located in the house by the thieves.

“By whom were the diamonds delivered?” he finally asked.

“By a messenger from the American Express office.”

“Who paid the duty?”

“The express company.”

“It must have been a heavy one.”

“It was,” answered the young man. “It took all my little fortune.”

Nick entered the telephone booth and called up the American Express office. In a few moments he learned that the diamonds had arrived in New York the previous day at noon on an ocean liner, and that they had remained in charge of the company only an hour before the departure of the messenger. No one in the employ of the company, except the man who had paid the duty and the manager, knew of the valuable contents of the package.

While the detective was puzzling over the case, Chick entered and was soon in possession of its main features as known to his chief.

“Where were the diamonds shipped from?” he asked.

“Originally from Cape Town,” replied the young man, “but direct from Liverpool.”

Chick looked at his chief with a smile on his face.

“It is a pretty case, I imagine,” he said. “The gems must have been followed from Cape Town.”

“Well, in that case,” said young Maynard, “the man who did the following made quick work of it after they arrived in this country. Of course, the route to the hiding place of the murderer must be discovered by tracing the diamonds. Don’t you think so?” he added, turning to Nick.

“It will, I think, prove easier to find the murderer than the diamonds,” said Nick. “The gems may be passed on from hand to hand, or separated and scattered to the end of the world, while the murderer cannot halve his crime with any one.”

Nick ordered his automobile, and the three were soon on their way to the country house on the Hudson where the murder had been committed.

When they reached their destination they found a crowd of curious suburbanites gathered about the gate, which had been closed and locked by the sheriff.

The house stood some distance from the road in a grove of elm trees. A handsomely kept lawn swept down to the iron fence which shut in the grounds. It was a fine old mansion, with many gables, porches, and odd corners. The dull red walls were overrun with English ivy.

The detectives ascended at once to the upper floor. The stairs brought them to a long hallway running just west of the tier of rooms at the front of the house.

Entering the front room, they found the body of the dead man lying on the bed. Nick at once bent over it. His impression was that it had been placed on the bed after the deathblow had been struck, but the coroner had gone away for a time, and he could ask no questions of him.

“It is worth looking up,” thought Nick.

As the detectives were beginning their work, Sheriff Walton called out to them from the lower hallway:

“I am going away for a time,” he said, “but I’ll be back. Two suspicious men took a rig from a local stable last night, and have not returned it. I think that perhaps they are the men who were here. You will find that the burglars gained entrance by way of the west room, and passed on to the front of the house. On the way they got the diamonds from the trunk in Charley’s room.”

Nick smiled as the sheriff closed the door and took his departure.

“He seems to have solved the case already,” said Chick. “I presume he has the murderer in sight now. Good luck to him, say I.”

“Here’s something to begin on,” continued Chick, pointing to footprints in the hallway. “See! There’s been a good deal of travel about here, and in bare feet. I don’t quite understand this, chief. I can’t see what it means. We have been told that Mrs. Maynard and Anton lay unconscious until morning, so I don’t see who did all this walking about. I don’t believe people came up here barefooted.”

The prints of naked feet led from door to door, and in some places were quite numerous. They passed from the north room to the south room, back again, and from the east room to the north room and back again. The south room was occupied by the owner of the diamonds, the north room by his aunt, and the east room by Alvin Maynard, who lay dead there at the time of the visit.

West of the doors of the side rooms, which were exactly opposite each other, the hall was narrower, and led only to a west room, occupied by Anton Sawtelle. The marks here were not those of naked feet. The person in the stockings seemed to have made two trips to the front room. The other marks might have been made after the discovery of the crimes of the night.

One thing about the stocking marks struck the detectives as peculiar. In each instance the outgoing marks were close together, the incoming marks far apart.

“This chap was in a mighty hurry, coming back,” said Chick reflectively. “He made the return trips in long jumps. Must have got scared in the front room.”

“Anton might have visited his father’s room before dressing,” said Nick, “and discovered the dead body on the bed. That would naturally give him a fright.”

“But he seems to have gotten two frights,” said Chick, with a grin.

As Chick bent over the tracks Nick moved cautiously toward the front of the hall. He was certain that he heard footsteps there, that some one was watching their movements—noting the course their investigation was taking.

Finally he made a little rush to the front, and was just in time to see a mass of dark hair disappearing down the stairs. The wearer of the hair looked back, and Nick saw a pair of handsome black eyes.

“We were watched,” he mused, turning back to the tracks. “The burglars, we are told, entered by way of Anton’s room.”

The detectives passed down the hall and entered the rear room, after it had been unlocked from the inside. The young man who had unlocked the door was already back in bed when the detectives entered. His head was bandaged and his face was pale as death. His eyes glared unnaturally from under heavy brows. He was a remarkably handsome man, although his face, even with the pallor of suffering upon it, showed signs of dissipation. His features were regular, his hair black and waving, and his figure slender and muscular.

“I called to you when you were at the door a moment ago,” he said, “but you did not answer. I presume you are Nick Carter? Yes. Well, I am glad to see you. Hope you will find the murderer, and also the brute who gave me this bump on the head. My poor father! He was always a father to me!”

“All in good time,” said Nick. “We are about to make an examination of the premises, but would like to ask you a few questions, provided you are well enough to engage in conversation.”

“I am very much better,” was the reply, “and perfectly able to tell you all I know about this wretched affair.”

“What time did you go to bed last night?” was the first question.

“About ten o’clock,” was the reply. “We keep early hours up here in the country, you see,” he added, with a wan smile.

“Did you retire for the night as soon as you came upstairs? What I mean is, did you move about your room or the hall?”

Sawtelle’s face became flushed, and he hesitated. Although Nick’s eyes were seemingly not fixed on his face, he noted every change of expression. What Nick appeared to be looking at was the gravel roof of a one-story lean-to attached to the building at the west.

CHAPTER II.CONFLICTING CLUES.

Once the young man opened his lips to reply to the question, but he changed his mind, evidently, and remained silent for a time.

“Give me time to think,” he said, after a pause. “I don’t seem to remember.”

“Did you come up here before your mother and Mr. Maynard came up for the night?”

“Oh, yes; I heard them come up and go to their rooms.”

“Did they engage in conversation?”

“They did not,” was the hesitating reply. “To tell the truth, they were not on good terms with each other last night. That makes this affair all the more terrible for mother.”

“Do you know the nature of their quarrel?”

“I do not.”

“Did you leave your room for any purpose after they came up here?”

“I did not.”

“Until when?”

“This morning.”

“Then you went to Mr. Maynard’s room?”

“I went to mother’s room first. You see, I had been attacked, and my first idea on regaining consciousness was that some one else might have been wounded.”

“That was quite early?”

“Just after daylight.”

“Where did you find your mother?”

“Lying on the floor. I placed her on the bed and went on to Mr. Maynard’s room. I found him dead, as you know.”

“Did you move the body?”

“I did not.” This with a shudder of horror.

“Were you dressed?”

“I was not. I had just tumbled off the bed, where I had fallen, or been thrown by the robbers. I think I had my trousers and socks on, that is all. You must understand that about this time I was hardly myself, and was laboring under strong excitement. I hardly know what I did after that. I remember of going to Charley’s room, and of hearing him cry out that the diamonds had been stolen. You know I had lain in an unconscious condition all night from this wound on my head. I asked that Sheriff Walton be sent for, and again became unconscious.”

“Did you succeed in arousing your mother from her stupor?”

“I called to the servants to assist her.”

“How was she dressed?”

“In a nightrobe.”

“How about her feet?”

“They were bare.”

“Where was she taken, then?”

“Directly downstairs.”

“She was not able to walk about?”

“Oh, no, she was carried down.”

Young Sawtelle closed his eyes as if from weariness, and, quick as a flash, Nick lifted something from under the edge of the bed and thrust it into his pocket.

“Now, about the burglars,” said the detective. “Do you know about what time it was when they entered?”

“I have no idea.”

“What was the first sound you heard?”

“I thought I heard a window rattle, and arose to a sitting position.”

“And then?”

“I could see that there was some one in the room, and I sprang out of bed to get a revolver which I keep in the closet.”

“You did not reach the closet?”

“No. I met an iron knuckle and dropped to the floor.”

“Did you visit the closet at all last night?”

“No; I am sure that I did not.”

“You caught no parting glimpse of the intruder’s face?”

“No. There were two.”

“How do you know that?”

“I could see two forms outlined against the window.”

“You heard them moving about the room?”

“Only for a moment.”

“Did they make much noise in moving about?”

“Very little.”

Nick now turned to the windows opening on the roof of the lean-to to the west. The structure was covered with a gravel roof, and during the rain of the night of the murder little pools of water had formed. Into these sand had been swept. Nick examined every one of these closely. In a moment he called Chick to his side.

“Here is the autograph of one of the burglars,” he said, pointing to an impression in one sandy pocket of the roof.

“Rubber shoes,” said Chick.