One Wonderful Night: A Romance of New York
He whistled softly when he heard the names of Valletort and Vassilan
and de Courtois.
"Up to the neck in it again!" he crowed. "Oh, it's me that is the
happy youth because I blew in to New York at the right time yesterday."
Otto Schmidt's office was in Madison Square, perched high above the
clatter of 23d Street. The windows of the lawyer's private sanctum
commanded magnificent views of the city to south and west, and in that
marvelously clear air the Statue of Liberty seemed to be little more
than a mile away, while the villas of Montclair and houses on other
heights in the neighboring State were distinctly visible.
Steingall and his friends were the first to arrive, and Schmidt
received them with the air of armed neutrality a lawyer displays
towards the opposite camp. He begged them to be seated, smiled
pleasantly when Curtis asked to be allowed to admire the interesting
panorama spread before his eyes, but gave Devar a contemplative look
when Steingall introduced him.
"Mr. Howard Devar, son of my friend William B. Devar?" he asked.
"Yes," said Devar, feeling that this was safe ground. "My father and
you put it that way since you pulled off the Saskatchewan Combine
together, but I've heard him describe you differently."
Schmidt, who looked more egg-like than ever at this hour of the
morning, disapproved of such flippancy.
"William B. Devar is a fair fighter," he said. "He gives and takes
hard knocks with perfect good humor. But, may I inquire how you come
to figure in a matter which, if I understand aright a message received
from Mr. Steingall, concerns persons with whom you can have little in
common?"
"It was a mere toss-up whether I or my friend, John Delancy Curtis,
took the floor against the combination of noble lords who have retained
you to look after their interests, or protect them, I ought to say; but
fate favored him, so I am a mere bottle-holder. To push the simile a
bit farther, Mr. Schmidt, I may describe Mr. Steingall as the referee
and watch-holder. When he cries 'Time' someone will go to Sing-Sing."
Perhaps some attribute of the father revealed itself in the son,
because Steingall, who thought at first that Devar had allowed his
tongue to run away with him, fancied that the lawyer dropped his
inquiries somewhat suddenly.
"The Earl of Valletort and Count Vassilan are due now," he said,
glancing at a clock.
"Oh, they will be here without fail," said the detective. "Mr. Clancy,
of the Bureau, is bringing de Courtois."
"Bringing him?" repeated Schmidt.
"Yes."
"Unofficially?"
"That depends wholly on de Courtois. He has to come, whether he likes
it or not. Whether he will be allowed to go away again is another
matter."
Schmidt's eyelids fell in thought. Probably he reflected that there
are two sides to every argument, and he had heard but one. Certainly,
John Delancy Curtis did not strike him as the dare-devil meddler, if
not worse, he had been depicted by the fiery Earl.
"The Earl of Valletort and Count Ladislas Vassilan," announced a clerk,
and Curtis took one square look at his rival. He needed no more to
confirm Hermione's unfavorable opinion. The Count's appearance was not
prepossessing. His nose was still swollen, and the earnest effort of a
doctor to paint out two black eyes had not been wholly successful.
His lordship looked mightily displeased when he discovered the presence
of Curtis and Devar, but he was a self-confident man, and regarded
himself as a personage of such importance that he assumed the lead in
this company at once. Moreover, it was evident that he had resolved to
keep a firm rein on his temper.
"Now, Mr. Schmidt," he said brusquely, "your time and mine is valuable.
Why have Count Vassilan and I been summoned here this morning by the
police authorities?"
Schmidt looked at Steingall, and the detective seemed to be almost at a
loss for words.
"I am--not aware--there is any particular call--for hurry," he said.
"Are you, my lord, and Count Vassilan thinking of returning to Europe
to-morrow?"
The Hungarian laughed, not mirthfully, but with the forced gayety of a
man who had considered how to act, and meant to adopt a decided
attitude.
"Certainly not," said the Earl stiffly, with uplifted eyebrows.
Steingall pursed his lips, and his forehead seamed in a reflective
frown.
"I ought to explain," he said, "that I put that question as offering
what appeared to me an easy way out of a situation which bristles with
difficulties otherwise."
His hesitancy had suddenly been replaced by slowness of utterance, but
it is reasonable to suppose that, of those present, Curtis and Schmidt
alone noted the marked distinction.
"My good man," said the Earl, "you must have the strangest notion of
the reason which accounts for my presence in New York. I came here to
rescue my daughter from a set of designing ruffians, some of whom I
knew of, and others whom I had never heard of. Why you should think
that I may have it in mind to leave the country without being
accompanied by Lady Hermione Grandison I cannot tell, and it is in the
highest degree improbable that she will be prepared to sail to-morrow.
Apart from my private arrangements, too, I mean to remain here until I
have punished at least one person as he deserves."
"Jean de Courtois?" inquired Steingall.
"No, sir. That man who stands there, and whose name is given as
Curtis."
The Earl nearly grew wrathful. It annoyed him to find that Curtis was
not looking at him at all, but was greatly interested in Schmidt. That
was another trait of Curtis's. He had learnt long ago to select the
ablest among his adversaries, and watch that man's face. Mere
impassivity supplied no real cloak, for Curtis, in his time, had dealt
with Chinese mandarins whose countenances betrayed no more expression
than a carved ivory mask.
"But it was de Courtois who meant to marry Lady Hermione?" persisted
Steingall.
"That remains to be seen. The person who did marry her signed himself
John Delancy Curtis."
Instantly the detective turned to Otto Schmidt.
"It will assist the inquiry if you tell us whether or not such a
marriage, if it took place under the assumed conditions, that is, by
use of a marriage license not intended for one of the parties, is
legal," he said.
"I have no doubt whatever that, in the circumstances, the courts will
find it to be illegal," was the answer.
"What circumstances?"
"That the lady quitted her supposed husband as soon as she discovered
the fraud which had been practised on her."
Steingall weighed the point for a moment.
"I see," he nodded. "If she refused to remain with him, the marriage
would be declared void. But if she elected to treat the marriage as a
binding act, no matter how it was procured, and continued to live with
her husband, that vital fact would affect the question of validity?"
"As you say, it would be a vital fact."
The detective was clearly impressed, but Lord Valletort swept aside
these quibbles of jurisprudence.
"My daughter's actions will be revealed in detail to a judge," he said
loftily. "At present I fail to see what bearing they have on the
discussion, unless, indeed, you mean to arrest Curtis immediately on a
charge which I am prepared to formulate."
"No, that is not why I requested your lordship and Count Vassilan to
come here this morning," said Steingall, gazing anxiously at the clock.
"I would prefer to await the arrival of Detective Clancy with Jean de
Courtois, but, if the Frenchman refuses to come, he is within his
rights, and I suppose I shall have to apply for a warrant, though, if I
choose, I can arrest him merely on suspicion."
"Suspicion of what?" demanded the Earl.
"Of complicity in the murder of Mr. Hunter last night."
"The man was tied in his room at the time of the murder," cried the
Hungarian hoarsely, speaking for the first time since he had entered
Schmidt's office. He was obviously excited, and excitement is a
powerful foe of good resolutions, with which the moral pavement is
littered in Hungary and elsewhere.
"That does not affect the charge of complicity," said Steingall
thoughtfully. "A man may be an accomplice, though the actual crime is
committed at a time and place when he is far distant. It is possible
for an accomplice to be in Paris, or on the high seas, while a victim
is falling under an assassin's knife in New York. A man, or a number
of men, can even be what I may term unconscious accomplices, in the
sense that their actions and instructions have brought about a crime,
though their intent may have stopped short of actual violence. I
assure you, my lord, the arm of the law reaches far when life is taken,
and the death of a popular and prominent journalist like Mr. Hunter
will be inquired into most searchingly."
The detective spoke so impressively that Lord Valletort eyed him with a
species of misgiving, while Count Vassilan, whose knowledge of English
was excellent, had broken out into a perspiration.
A smooth, mellifluous voice suddenly intervened. Otto Schmidt thought
fit to assume a role for which Lord Valletort was manifestly ill
equipped.
"We seem to be dealing with two items which, though related, by
accident, as it were, yet differ widely. The Earl of Valletort is
interested only in his daughter's marriage, Mr. Steingall."
The detective wheeled round on him.
"Precisely, Mr. Schmidt, but it happens, unfortunately, that the
marriage of Lady Hermione and Mr. Curtis was the direct outcome of the
murder of Mr. Hunter. More than that, Mr. Hunter met his death because
of the plot and counter-plot attending the preliminary arrangements for
her ladyship's marriage. The two events, so far apart in their nature,
thus become indissolubly connected."
"And is that why we are to have the pleasure of seeing Monsieur de
Courtois?"
"Yes."
"Perhaps, before he comes, you will be good enough to give us some
idea, informally of course, as to the statement,--or, shall I say
revelation?--he may make."
"It is asking a good deal of a police official," said Steingall,
smiling pleasantly, "but if I am assured that the discussion will
really be regarded as informal, I am ready to speak quite openly."
"It is a characteristic of yours, Mr. Steingall, which has often
commanded the admiration of the New York bar," said Schmidt.
"Then," said the detective, "I must begin by telling you that Mr.
Clancy and I were in Morris Siegelman's saloon in East Broadway shortly
after midnight last night."
A curious click issued from the throat of that distinguished Hungarian
magnate, Count Ladislas Vassilan, and everyone present noticed it
except the chief of the Detective Bureau. He, it would appear, was
busy marshaling his thoughts.
"For all practical purposes, our inquiry began there," he continued.
"We intercepted a note written by a certain gentleman, and intended to
be conveyed to a Pole named Peter Balusky. He, and a Hungarian, Franz
Viviadi, together with a French chauffeur, whose real name is Lamotte,
but who has been passing recently as Anatole Labergerie, are now under
arrest. Mr. Curtis has recognized Lamotte as the driver of the
automobile out of which Mr. Hunter stepped to meet his death, and
Lamotte himself has confessed his share in the crime. The precise
connection of Balusky and Viviadi with it remains yet to be determined.
They undoubtedly visited the Central Hotel last night. They
undoubtedly were the paid agents of some person or persons interested
in preventing the marriage of Lady Hermione Grandison. They
undoubtedly received letters and wireless messages which seem to
implicate others, far removed from them in social position, in the
plot, or undertaking, that her ladyship's marriage should not take