“Venner—hush! You are losing your head,” protested Garside, white with dismay. “It’s enough that we have lost the stones, so at least keep your head. Waste not a moment. Notify the police. Telephone at once for men from the central office.”
“Blast the police! The central office be hanged!” cried Venner, choking down an oath of wrathful contempt. “I’ll have none of your police—none of your central office men! I want a detective—not an effigy of one!”
“Rufus—”
“Silence, Garside, and leave this affair to me,” Venner harshly interrupted. “You’ve had fingers enough in it already.”
With which rebuke Mr. Rufus Venner strode passionately out of the office and into the store proper, shouting loudly to the clerk previously mentioned:
“Maynard—here you, Maynard! Call a cab at once and go for Nick Carter! Lose not a moment! Don’t wait to ask questions, you blockhead! Away with you, at once! Bring Nick Carter here with the least possible delay!”
Maynard had already seized his coat and hat, and was hurrying out of the store.
And thus began one of the most stirring and extraordinary criminal cases that ever fell within the broad experience of the famous New York detective mentioned.
Chapter II.
Concerning Señora Cervera
Joseph Maynard arrived at Nick Carter’s residence just as the famous New York detective was about preparing for lunch, and quickly stated his mission, disclosing the superficial features of the crime.
Nick Carter habitually looked below the surface of things, however, and in trifles he invariably discovered more than the ordinary man. Before Maynard had fairly outlined the case Nick keenly discerned that the robbery could not have been committed by any common criminals, and he at once decided not only that he would take the case, but also that it gave promise of something far more startling than then appeared aboveboard.
Yet even Nick’s keen discernment utterly failed, at this early stage of the affair, to anticipate its actual magnitude and tragic possibilities.
Having consented to accompany Maynard to the scene of the crime, Nick turned to Chick Carter, his reliable chief assistant, who also had been an attentive listener to Maynard’s disclosures.
“You had better come with me, Chick,” said he. “This affair has rather a bad look, and in case quick work is imperative, I may need your assistance.”
“Go with you it is, Nick,” Chick heartily cried, hastening to put on his coat and hat.
“From the circumstances disclosed by Maynard, however,” added Nick, “I am inclined to think that these rats have very carefully covered their tracks, and that a still hunt for their trail may prove to be our stunt. Yet you had better go along with me.”
“I’m ready when you are, Nick.”
“Very good. Come on, Mr. Maynard. I see you have a carriage at the door. We will not delay even for lunch, but will snatch a bite later.”
Together the three men left the house, and it was precisely one o’clock when Nick was ushered into the private office of Venner & Co., where the two members of the firm then were seated, apparently still engaged in discussing the audacious robbery.
Mr. Rufus Venner, it may be here stated, was a man of about forty years of age, and was a very well-known man about town. Darkly handsome, with an erect and imposing figure, an habitué of the best clubs, a man still unmarried, yet of whom hints were frequently dropped that he was very popular with the fair sex, whom he was known to lavishly entertain at times—this was the senior member of the firm of Venner & Co., and the man who, quickly arose to greet Nick Carter and Chick when the two detectives entered.
“Your clerk has already given me the main facts of the case, Mr. Venner, so we will dispense with any rehearsal of them, and get right down to business,” Nick crisply observed, immediately after their greeting. “There are a few questions I wish to ask you, and concise replies may expedite matters.”
“I will respond as briefly as possible, Mr. Carter,” Venner quickly rejoined, as they took chairs around the office table. “I do not fancy being robbed in this scurvy fashion, sir, and you may go to any reasonable expense to discover and arrest the thieves. Now, Detective Carter, your questions?”
“To begin with,” asked Nick, with a steadfast scrutiny of Venner’s darkly attractive face, “what is the value of the stolen diamonds?”
“About four thousand dollars.”
“Ten in number, I was told.”
“Precisely.”
“Are they of uniform value?”
“Nearly so. They are splendid gems, and perfectly matched, and are worth about four hundred dollars each. I wanted them for a special purpose, which—”
“Which I will presently arrive at,” Nick courteously interposed. “I understand, Mr. Venner, that you called yesterday at the store of Thomas Hafferman and made some inquiries about these stones?”
“I did, and also examined them.”
“In what part of Hafferman’s store were you at the time?”
“In his private office.”
“Were any of the clerks present?”
“Not any—Stay! One of the clerks brought in the diamonds to Mr. Hafferman, but he did not remain. Only Mr. Hafferman himself remained with me while we discussed the matter.”
“Do you know the clerk’s name?”
“Boyden, I think, he was called.”
“The same who brought the diamonds here this morning,” put in Mr. Garside. “His name is Harry Boyden.”
Nick made a note of it in a small book which he drew from his pocket.
“Did you make any deal at that time regarding the diamonds?” he inquired.
“I only had them reserved for me a day or two, stating that I would either call again or send an order for them, if I decided to purchase them,” replied Venner.
“Are you quite sure that only Mr. Hafferman heard you make that statement?”
“Sure only in that the office door was closed, and that he alone was with me. If there were any eavesdroppers about I did not suspect it.”
“Naturally not,” smiled Nick. “Now, then, for what special purpose did you want those particular diamonds? I think you referred to one.”
A slight tinge of red appeared in Venner’s cheeks when he replied, a change which by no means escaped Nick’s observation.
“I wanted the stones, or then thought I might, for a customer who contemplated giving me an order for a valuable diamond cross, to be worn upon the stage. We happen to have in stock no diamonds perfectly adapted to her requirements, and so I called upon Hafferman to learn if he could supply me.”
“Who is the customer, Mr. Venner?”
“I do not see how her identity can be at all essential to the investigation of this affair, yet I have no objection to disclosing it,” said Venner, frowning slightly.
“Why demur over it, then?” demanded Nick, bluntly.
“Only because of an aversion to bringing the lady into the case, of which she, of course, knows nothing,”