A Modern Wizard/Chapter II

Chapter II: JACK BARNES INVESTIGATES
Jack Barnes, at this time, had just attained his majority. He was studying law with Messrs. Dudley & Bliss, and acting as their office assistant. But it was by no means his intention ever to practise the profession, which he was acquiring with much assiduity. His one ambition was to be a detective. Gifted with a keen, logical mind, a strong disposition to study and solve problems, and possessing the rare faculty of never forgetting a face, or a voice, he thought himself endowed by nature with exactly the faculties necessary to make a successful detective. His study of law was but a preliminary, which, he rightly deemed, would be of value to him.

Anxious, as he was, to try his wits against some noted criminal, the chance had never been his to make the effort. He had indeed ferreted out one or two so-called "mysterious cases," but these had been in a small country village, where a victory over the dull-witted constabulary had counted for little in his own estimation.

Naturally he had read with avidity all the various newspaper accounts of the supposed murder of Mabel Sloane, and it was with considerable satisfaction that he had read the name upon the card intrusted to him to be taken to his employers. It seemed to him that at last fortune had placed an opportunity within his grasp. Here was a man, suspected of a great crime, whom the great Metropolitan detective force had entirely failed to locate. From what he had read of Dr. Medjora, he quickly decided that, though he might consult Messrs. Dudley & Bliss, he would not intrust them with his address. Jack Barnes determined to follow the Doctor when he should leave the office. Thus it was, that he was absent when Mr. Bliss inquired for him.

Descending by the elevator--a contrivance oddly named, since it takes one down as well as up,--he stationed himself in a secluded corner, whence he could keep watch upon the several exits from the building. Presently, he saw Dr. Medjora step from the elevator, and leave the building, after casting his eyes keenly about him, from which circumstance Barnes thought it best not to follow his man too closely. When, therefore, he saw the Doctor jump upon a Third Avenue horse-car, he contented himself with taking the next one following, and riding upon the front platform.

He saw nothing of Dr. Medjora until the Harlem terminus was reached. Here his man alighted and walked rapidly across the bridge over the river, Barnes following by the footpath on the opposite side, keeping the heavy timbers of the span between them as a screen. But, however careful Dr. Medjora had been to look behind him when leaving the lawyers' offices, he evidently felt secure now, for he cast no anxious glances backward. Thus Barnes shadowed him with comparative ease, several blocks uptown, and then down a cross street, until at last he disappeared in a house surrounded by many large trees.

Barnes stopped at the tumbled-down gate, which, swinging on one hinge, offered little hindrance to one who wished to enter. He looked at the house with curiosity. Old Colonial in architecture, it had evidently once been the summer home of wealthy folks. Now the sashless windows and rotting eaves marked it scarcely more than a habitat for crows or night owls. Wondering why Dr. Medjora should visit such a place, he was suddenly astonished to hear the sound of wheels rapidly approaching. Peeping back, he saw a stylish turn-out coming towards him, and it flashed across his mind that this might be the equipage in which the Doctor had been said to drive in the Park. Not wishing to be seen, he entered the grounds, ran quickly to the house, and admitted himself through a broken-down doorway that led to what had been the kitchen. He had scarcely concealed himself when the carriage stopped, a woman alighted, and walking up to the house, entered by the same door through which the Doctor had passed. Barnes was satisfied now that this meeting was pre-arranged, and that it would interest him greatly to overhear the conversation which would occur.

Seeking a means of reaching the upper floor, he soon found a stairway from which several steps were absent, but he readily ascended. At the top, he stopped to listen, and soon heard low voices still farther up. The staircase in the main hall was in a fair state of preservation, and there was even the remains of an old carpet. Carefully stepping, so as to avoid creaking boards, he soon reached a level from which he could peep into the room at the head of the stairs, and there he saw the two whom he was following. But though he could hear their voices, he could not distinguish their words. To do so he concluded that he must get into the adjoining room, but he could not go farther upstairs without being detected, as the door was open affording the Doctor a clear view of the top of the stairway.

Barnes formed his plan quickly. Reaching up with his hands, he took hold of the balustrade which ran along the hallway, and then, dangling in the air, he worked his way slowly from baluster to baluster, until he had passed the open doorway, and finally hung opposite the room which he wished to enter. Then he drew himself up, until he could rest a foot upon the floor of the hall, after which he quickly and noiselessly swung himself over and passed into the front room. That he succeeded, astonished him, after it had been done, for he could not but recognize that a single rotten baluster would either have precipitated him to the floor below, or at least by the noise of its breaking have attracted the attention of Dr. Medjora, who, be it remembered, was suspected of no less a crime than murder.

Looking about the room in which he then stood, he took little note of the decaying furniture, but went at once to a door which he thought must communicate with the adjoining room. Opening this very gently, he disclosed a narrow passageway, from which another door evidently opened into the room beyond. Stealthily he passed on, and pressing his ear against a wide crack, was pleased to find that he could easily hear what was said by the two in the next room. The conversation seemed to have reached the very point of greatest interest to him. The woman said:

"I wish to know exactly your connection with this Mabel Sloane."

"So do the police," replied the Doctor, succinctly.

"But I am not the police," came next in petulant tones.

"Exactly! And not being the police you are out of your province, when investigating a matter supposed to be criminal." Barnes learned two things: first that the Doctor would not lose his temper, and therefore would not be likely to betray himself by revealing anything beyond what his companion might already know; and second, that she knew little as to his relation with Mabel Sloane. This was not very promising, yet he still hoped that something might transpire, which would repay all the trouble that he had taken. The woman spoke again quickly.

"Then you are not going to explain this thing to me?"

"Certainly not, since you have not the right to question me."

"I have not the right? I, whom you expect to marry? I have not the right to investigate your relations with other women?"

"Not with one who is dead!"

"Dead or alive, I must know what this Mabel Sloane was to you, or else" She hesitated.

"Or else?" queried the Doctor, without altering his tone.

"Or else I will not marry you."

"Oh! Yes, you will!" replied the Doctor, with such a tone of certainty that his companion became exasperated and stamped her feet as she replied in anger:

"I will not! I will not! I will not!" Then, as though her asseveration had slightly mollified her, she added: "Or if I do" and, then paused.

"Continue!" exclaimed the Doctor, still calm. "You pause at a most interesting period. Or if you do"

"Or if I do," wrathfully rejoined the woman--"I'll make your whole life a burden to you!"

"No, my wife that is to be, you will not even do that. Perhaps you might try, but I should not permit you to succeed in any such an undertaking. No, my dear friend, you and I are going to be a model couple, provided"

"Provided what?"

"That you curb your curiosity as to things that do not concern you."

"But this does concern me."

"As I have intimated already, Mabel Sloane being dead, you can have no interest whatever in knowing what relations existed between us."

"Not even if, as the newspapers claim, she had a child?"

"Not even in that case."

"Well, is there a child?"

"I have told you that it does not concern you."

"Do you deny it?"

"I neither deny it, nor affirm it. You have read the evidence, and may believe it or not as you please."

"Oh! I hate you! I hate you!" She was again enraged. "I wonder why I am such a fool as to marry you?"

"Ah! This time you show curiosity upon a subject which does concern you. Therefore I will enlighten you. You intend to marry me, first, because, in spite of the assertion just made, you love me. That is to say, you love me as much as you can love any one other than yourself. Second, you are ambitious to be the wife of a celebrated man. You have been keen enough to recognize that I have genius, and that I will be a great man. Do you follow me?"

"You are the most supreme egotist that I have ever met." The words, meant as a sort of reproach, yet were spoken in tones which betokened admiration.

"Thank you. I see you appreciate me for what I am. All egotists are but men who have more than the average ego, more than ordinary individuality. The supreme egotist, therefore, has most of all. Now, to continue the reasons for our marriage, perhaps you would like to know why I intend to marry you?"

"If your august majesty would condescend so far." The Doctor took no notice of the sneer, but said simply:

"I too have my ambitions, but I need money with which to achieve success. You have money!"

"You dare to tell me that! You are going to marry me for my money! Never, you demon! Never!"

"I thought you had concluded to be sensible and leave off theatricals. You look very charming when you are angry, but it prolongs this conversation to dangerous lengths. We may be interrupted at any moment by the police."

"By the police! In heaven's name how?" In a moment she showed a transition from that emotion which spurned him, to that love for him which trembled for his safety. Thus wisely could this crafty physician play upon the feelings of those whom he wished to influence.

"It is very simple. As much as you love me, you love your own comfort more. I asked you to come up here quietly. You came in your carriage, with driver and footman in full livery. Is that your idea of a quiet trip?"

"But I thought"

"No! You did not think." The Doctor spoke sternly, and the woman was silent, completely awed. "If you had thought for one moment, you would have readily seen that the police are probably watching you, hoping that, through you, they might find me. Fortunately, however, I have thought of the contingency, and am prepared for it. But let us waste no more time. No! Do not speak. Listen, and heed what I have to say. I have decided not to follow your suggestion. You wrote to me advising flight. That was another indiscretion, since your messenger might have been followed. However, I forgave you, for you not only offered to accompany me, but you expressed a willingness to furnish the funds, as an earnest of which I found a thousand dollars in your envelope. A token, you see, of a love more intense than that jealousy which a moment ago whispered to you to abandon me. From this, and other similar circumstances, I readily deduce that after all you will marry me. But to come to the point. I have consulted a firm of lawyers, and by their advice I shall surrender myself on the day after to-morrow."

"You will surrender to the police?" The woman was thoroughly alarmed. "They will convict you. They willugh!" She shuddered.

"No," said the Doctor more kindly than he had as yet spoken. "Do not be afraid. They will neither convict me, nor hang me. I will stand my trial, and come out of it a freed man."

"But if not? Even innocent men have been convicted."

"Even innocent men! Why do you say even? Do you doubt that I am innocent?"

"No! No! But this is what I mean. Although innocent you might be brought in guilty."

"Well, even so, I must take the chance. All my hopes, all my ambitions, all that I care for in life depend upon my being a free man. I cannot ostracize myself, and reach my goal. So the die is cast. But there is another thing that I must tell you. We cannot be married at present."

"Not married? Why not? Why delay? I wish to marry you now, when you are accused, to prove to you how much I love you!" Thus she showed the vacillation of her impulsive, passionate nature.

"I appreciate your love, and your generosity. But it cannot be. My lawyers advise against it, and I agree with them that it would be hazardous. Next, I must have money with which to carry on my defence. When can you give it to me? You must procure cash. It would not be well for me to present your check at my bankers. The circumstances forbid it, lest the prosecution twist it into evidence against me."

"When I received your note bidding me to meet you here, I thought that you contemplated flight. I have brought some money with me. Here are five thousand dollars. If you need more I will get it."

"This will suffice for the present. I thank you. Will you kiss me?" A sound followed which showed that this woman, eager for affection, gladly embraced the opportunity accorded to her. At the same moment there was a loud noise heard in the hall below, from which it was plain that several persons had entered.

"The police!" exclaimed the Doctor. Then there was a pause as though he might be listening, and then he continued, speaking rapidly: "As I warned you, they have followed you. Hush! Have no fear. I shall not be taken. I am prepared. But you! You must wait up here undisturbed. When they find you, you must explain that you came here to look at the property, which you contemplate buying. And now, whatever may happen, have no fear for my safety. Keep cool and play your part like the brave little woman that I know you to be."

There was the sound of a hurried kiss, and then Barnes was horrified to see the door at which he was listening, open, and to find himself confronted by Dr. Medjora. But if Barnes was taken by surprise, the Doctor was even more astonished. His perturbation however passed in a moment, for he recognized Barnes quickly, and thus knew that at least he was not one of the police. Stepping through the door, he pulled it shut after him, and turned a key which was in the lock, and, placing the key in his pocket, thus closed one exit. Barnes retreated into the next room and would have darted out into the hall, had not the strong arm of the Doctor clutched him, and detained him. The Doctor then locked that door also, after which he dragged Barnes back into the passage between the two rooms. Here he shook him until his teeth chattered, and though Barnes was not lacking in courage, he felt himself so completely mastered, that he was thoroughly frightened.

"You young viper," hissed the Doctor through his teeth. "You will play the spy upon me, will you? How long have you been listening here? But wait. There will be time enough later for your explanations. You remain in here, or I will take your life as mercilessly as I would grind a rat with my heel." As though to prove that he was not trifling, he pressed the cold barrel of a revolver against Barnes's temple, until the young man began to realize that tracking murderers was not the safest employment in the world.

Leaving Barnes in the passageway the Doctor went into the front room, and Barnes was horrified by what he saw next. Taking some matches from his pocket he deliberately set fire to the old hangings at the windows, and then lighted the half rotten mattress which rested upon a bedstead, doubly inflammable from age. Despite his fear Barnes darted out, only to be stopped by Dr. Medjora, who forcibly dragged him back into the passageway, and then stood in the doorway watching the flames as they swiftly fed upon the dry material.

"Dr. Medjora," cried Barnes, "you are committing a crime in setting this house afire!"

"You are mistaken. This house is mine, and not insured."

"But there are people in it!"

"They will have ample time to escape!"

"But I? How shall I escape?"

"I do not intend that you shall escape."

"Do you mean to murder me?"

"Have patience and you will see. There, I guess that fire will not be easily extinguished." Then to the amazement of young Barnes the Doctor stepped back into the passageway, and closed and locked the door. Thus they were in total darkness, in a small passageway having no exit save the doors at each end, both of which were locked. Already the fire could be heard roaring, and bright gleams of light appeared through the chinks in the oak door. At this moment voices were heard in the next room. The Doctor brushed Barnes to one side and took the place near the crevice to hear what passed.

"Madam," said the voice of a man evidently a policeman, "where is Dr. Medjora?"

"Dr. Medjora?" replied the woman. "Why, how should I know?"

"You came here to meet him. It is useless to try to deceive me. We tracked you to this house, and, what is more, the man himself was seen to enter just before you did. We only waited long enough to surround the grounds so that there would be no chance to escape. Now that you see how useless it is for him to hide, you may as well tell us where he is, and save time!"

"I know nothing of the man for whom you are seeking. I came here merely to look over the property, with a view to buying it."

"What, buy this old rookery! That's a likely yarn."

"I should not buy it for the house, but for the beautiful grounds."

"Well, I can't stop to argue with you. If you won't help us, we'll get along without you. He is in the house. I know that much."

"Sarjent! Sarjent! Git outer this! The house is on fire!" This announcement, made in breathless tones by another man who had run in, caused a commotion, and, coming so unexpectedly, entirely unnerved the woman, who hysterically cried out:

"He is in there! Open that door! Save him! Save him!"

Dr. Medjora smothered an ejaculation of anger, as in response to the information thus received, the police began hammering upon the door. Old as it was, it was of heavy oak and quite thick. The lock, too, was a good one and gave no signs of yielding.

"Where is the fire?" exclaimed the sergeant.

"In the front room," answered the other man.

"Get the men up here. Bring axes, or anything that can be found to break in with." The man hurried off, in obedience to this order, and the policeman said to the woman:

"Madam, you'd better get out of this. It is going to be hot work!"

"No! No! I'll stay here."

Barnes wondered what was to be the outcome of the situation, and was surprised to hear the sound of bolts being pushed through rusty bearings. Dr. Medjora was further fortifying the door against the coming attack. Barnes would have assailed the other door, but from the roar of the flames he knew that no safety lay in that direction. Presently heavy blows were rained upon the door, showing that an axe had been found. In a few moments the panel splintered, and through a gap thus made could be seen the figure of the man wielding the axe. It seemed as though he would soon batter down the barrier which separated Barnes from safety, when at the next blow the handle of the axe broke in twain. A moment more, and a deafening crash and a rush of smoke into the passageway indicated that a part of the roof had fallen in. The sergeant grasped the woman by the shoulders, and dragged her shrieking, from the doomed house, which was now a mass of flames. The little knot of policemen stood apart and watched the destruction, waiting to see some sign of Dr. Medjora. But they saw nothing of the Doctor, nor of Barnes, of whom, indeed, they did not know.