The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mansion of Mystery, by Chester K. Steele

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Title: The Mansion of Mystery Being a Certain Case of Importance, Taken from the Note-book of Adam Adams, Investigator and Detective

Author: Chester K. Steele

Release Date: July 4, 2005 [eBook #16204]

Language: English

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MANSION OF MYSTERY***

E-text prepared by Al Haines

THE MANSION OF MYSTERY

Being a Certain Case of Importance, Taken from the Note-book of Adam Adams, Investigator and Detective

by

CHESTER K. STEELE

Author of "The Disappearance of John Darr"

International Fiction Library
Cleveland New York
Press of the Commercial Bookbinding Co., Cleveland

1911

CHAPTER I

THE STORY OF A DOUBLE TRAGEDY

The young man was evidently in a tremendous hurry, and as soon as the ferryboat bumped into the slip he was at the gate and was the first one ashore. He beckoned to one of the alert taxicabmen, and without waiting to have the vehicle brought to him, ran to it and leaped inside.

"Do you know where the Vanderslip Building is?" he questioned abruptly.

"Yes, sir."

"Then take me there with all possible speed."

"Yes, sir."

The door slammed, the taxi driver mounted to his seat, and off the taxi started at the best rate of speed the driver could attain. The young man sank down among the cushions and buried his chin in his hands.

His face, normally a handsome one, was now wrinkled with care, his hair was disheveled, and he looked as if he had lost much sleep. At times his mouth twitched nervously and he clenched his fists in a passion which availed him nothing.

"To think that she is guilty!" he muttered. "It is horrible! Horrible!" And then his whole frame shook as if with the ague. Twice he started up, to see if he had not yet arrived at his destination. But the drive was a long one, and to him, in his keen anxiety, it appeared an age.

"If he is away—out of town—in Europe, or on some case which he cannot leave, what am I to do?" he murmured. "I've pinned my whole faith on him."

Presently there was a jar, and the taxicab came to a halt in front of a large office building. The young man gave one look, and, before the driver could get down, had the door open and was on the pavement. "Here you are," he said and thrust a dollar bill into the fellow's hand. Then he crossed the broad pavement and was lost to sight in the corridor beyond.

"In a hurry and no mistake, and looks a heap worried, too," was the chauffeur's comment. "Well, I'm a quarter ahead on that fare."

For a moment the young man studied the directory on the corridor wall. Then he entered an elevator and alighted at the eighth floor. He, walked down a side hall until he came to a door upon the glass of which was inscribed the name:

Adam Adams

"This must be the place," he murmured, and opening the door he entered the office, to find himself in a plain but neatly furnished apartment, containing several chairs, and a flat-top desk, at which a young lady was writing.

"Is Mr. Adams in?" he asked, as the young lady arose to meet him.

"What name, please?" was the counter question, and the young lady gave the visitor a keen glance.

"Raymond Case." The young man brought forth his card. "Tell Mr. Adams I am the son of the late Wilbur Case, and wish to see him on important business."

The young lady disappeared through a door leading to an inner apartment. From this she entered another apartment, much larger, and overlooking the little city park far below. The room was filled with books and pictures, and some wall brackets contained several bits of finely-carved statuary. There was one large roller-top desk and three comfortable leather chairs.

At the desk sat a man of uncertain age, with a strong face, a somewhat bald head, and eyes that were neither light nor dark. The man was of ordinary height, but muscular to a surprising degree. His face showed a high order of intelligence and his mouth a determination not easily thrust aside.

"A gentleman to see you," said the young lady. She placed the card before him. "He told me to tell you that he is the son of the late Wilbur Case, and wishes to see you on important business."

The man at the desk drew a long breath and looked up from a slip of paper which he had been studying through a microscope. "Raymond Case, eh? All right, Letty, show him in."

In another moment the visitor was in the private office. Adam Adams arose and gave him a warm handshake.

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Case," he said cordially. "I knew your late father quite well—a fine man—a very fine man, indeed. Have a chair and make yourself at home." He noted that his visitor was much agitated and flushed. "Sit down by the window; there is a nice breeze there from across the park."

"Mr. Adams, I would like to see you in private," returned the young man, as he took a seat and mopped his forehead with his handkerchief.

"Very well," and the office door was carefully closed. Then came a brief pause, during which Raymond Case cleared his throat several times.

"Mr. Adams, you do not know much about me, but I know a great deal about you," he commenced. "Three or four years ago you recovered some stolen mining shares for my father, and last year you cleared up the Sandford mystery, after the police and the other detectives had failed completely."

Adam Adams bowed. He rarely spoke unless there was occasion for it.

"May I ask if you are now at liberty?" pursued the young man.

"At liberty? Bless you, no! I have half a dozen cases on hand. Two here in the city—one over in New Jersey—one in Yonkers, and—"

"But you will undertake a case for me, if I pay you well for it, won't you?" interrupted the young man eagerly. "Don't say no—please don't!" And there was a ring of agony in his speech. "I am depending upon you!"

The detective paused before replying, and looked the young man over with care. The clean-cut features showed not a sign of dissipation, and the expression was honesty itself. Certainly the young man had not gotten into trouble on his own account.

"I should want to know something about the case before I promised to do anything."

"Certainly—of course—" The young man cleared his throat again.

"You can tell me what the trouble is and if I decline to take the case I will give you my promise not to say a word to any outsider of what has passed between us."

"Oh, I know I can trust you, Mr. Adams, otherwise I should not have called here. My father said you were the squarest man he had ever dealt with. I came to see you about the Langmore affair."

"You