Chapter IX: Parks in Disguise

The two men left the house immediately.

A carriage was in waiting, and it conveyed them rapidly to the “fence” on Sixth Avenue.

Nick guided Parks through the dark halls, but he did not take him to the room where the crooks sat chafing in their fetters.

Instead, the two went into the room on the other side of the hall. Nick struck a light, and they took chairs.

“I am simply following you,” said Parks. “I do not understand what we have come here for.”

“To meet the assassin,” said Nick; “but before we do that I wish to impose one condition on you.”

“Name it.”

“I wish you to be disguised.”

“For what reason?”

“I do not wish you to appear as Morton Parks.”

“That is only saying the same thing in other words.”

“True; I had not finished. It is important that when you face the assassin you should not do it in your own character.”

“That is hardly more definite. But why should I argue the point? It is immaterial. I am willing to assume a disguise.”

“I will disguise you now. You have heard, perhaps, that I have skill in such matters.”

“Do as you wish.”

It was wonderful to see the change which Nick produced in Parks’ appearance. It was not done so quickly as would have been the case with the detective’s own face, but it was done with amazing skill and care.

At last Nick held up a looking-glass before the other’s gaze.

Looking into it Parks beheld a dark, bearded countenance. Paints, cleverly applied, threw such shadows upon the eyes that though they were really gray they looked black.

The hair was black; the beard was black; it was indeed a swarthy face.

“Do you think that anybody would recognize you?” asked Nick.

“Never,” said Parks, and there was something of relief in his tone.

Nick replaced the mirror and resumed his seat.

“We were speaking, some minutes ago,” he said, “of the character of your wife, as these tragic events have disclosed it.”

“Is it necessary to speak further on that subject?”

“It is, as I believe.”

“You must be aware that it is very painful to me.”

“It should not be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Parks, your wife is a pure and innocent woman, the victim of brutal wretches.”

Parks sprang to his feet.

“Mr. Carter,” he cried, “in Heaven’s name, present the proof quickly, if you have any.”

“You believe that your wife stole her own jewels in order to pawn or sell them.”

Parks bowed in assent.

“She must have had a motive,” said Nick.

“I have already told you that she gambled in stocks.”

“With what brokers did she deal?”

“I cannot tell.”

“How do you know that she gambled in stocks?”

“She confessed to me when she had wasted her own fortune. She promised to reform.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Over a year.”

“And she did not reform?”

“No; she continued to speculate.”

“How do you know?”

“The theft of the jewels proves it.”

“That was on August 3d?”

“Yes.”

“She obtained money as well as jewels?”

“Yes.”

“A considerable sum?”

“Twenty-four hundred dollars. I happened to have an unusual amount of money in the house that night.”

“If she stole that money for speculation, it is reasonable to suppose that she used it immediately for that purpose, is it not?”

“I suppose so.”

“Well, Mr. Parks, I have traced your wife’s movements for almost every day of last August.”

“You have?”

“Yes; by means of one of my assistants, a very clever and well-taught young lady.”

“What have you learned?”

“That she did not speculate.”

“How can you be sure of that? A person does not have to go to Wall Street in order to dabble in stocks.”

“I know it; but a person whose fate is on the turn of that dreadful game does not spend her time as your wife did.”

“How?”

“In the noblest works of charity; in the homes of the poor on the East Side. It was there that she spent her days, not hanging over a stock ticker in some resort of fashionable women gamblers.”

“This seems incredible.”

“It is true. I know of one family which she visited every week day between August 3d and August 21st. I know several others where she was a regular visitor.”

“You amaze me.”

“She spent a great deal of money in these charities, too. That does not look like the work of a ruined gambler.”

“But how do you account for her association with thieves?”

“I will tell you. Let us suppose a case. You mentioned your nephew.

“Let us suppose that your wife was deeply attached to him. Let us say that after long watching, and years, perhaps, of dark suspicion, she discovered that he was a thief.

“Unwilling to believe any other evidence than that of her own eyes, she follows him. She sees him enter a den of thieves. She learns that he is their leader.”

“Is my nephew, then, the thief?” cried Parks.

“Wait. This is all supposition.

“Let us say that she enters this den of thieves. She has found their private way.

“They are thunderstruck when she appears, though only the leader knows her. She walks up to a table on which lies the plunder which they are dividing.

“She seizes some of it in her hands. She is mad with the horror of the scene, perceiving one she loves in such a place.

“They do not dare to kill her, for they have no means of disposing of the body. She does not see that she is in great danger.

“She threatens them. She urges upon this man--your nephew, let us say--to make restitution and reform.

“It is what a woman might do though a man would smile at it. He curses her. She seizes some of the jewels and rushes out saying that she will expose everything.

“The rank and file of the thieves’ gang would murder her rather than permit her to leave the room.

“But the leader is more wily. He knows that she must die, but not there.

“He follows her; stabs her in the street, and escapes.”

“In the name of God, did my nephew do this?”

“The villain who did this is called Helstone. He is the leader of a gang of thieves. His real name has been unknown to the police.”

“And my nephew----”

“Wait. That was only a supposition. Let us see if there is not somebody who was bound to her by a closer tie.”

“What!”

“Had she no near relatives?”

“None.”

“She had a husband.”

“Liar! Do you dare to say----”

“That you, Morton Parks, are Helstone. It was not your nephew, it was you she followed. Yes; I say it, and I shall ask you to test the truth of it.”

“How? I am ready, and I think I know the test.”

“In this house, at this moment, I hold the most of Helstone’s gang of thieves. Dare you face them?”

“Certainly.”

“You are disguised, it is true. I have purposely changed your appearance as much as possible. But it will not serve.”

“I will face them instantly.”

“Then come.”

Nick walked to the door, and Parks was at his side.

They passed into a room which opened into that in which sat the fettered thieves.

There they found Chick.

“Keep your eye on this man,” said Nick, but in a tone so low that it could not be heard in the other room.

“You need not be afraid that I shall run away,” muttered Parks in reply.

Nick entered the large room where Inspector McLaughlin sat with a revolver in each hand, facing the semicircle of crooks.

“Now, gentlemen,” said Nick, briskly, “you probably give me a great deal of credit for having trapped you so neatly.”

A volley of oaths was the reply.

“I am too modest, however,” he continued, “to take glory which is not my due.”

Again he paused, and this time the crooks appeared to take more serious interest in what he was saying.

“Another man has really done the work,” Nick went on. “Without him you would never be in the predicament in which you now find yourselves, with Sing Sing prison open before you.”

“We’ve been sold out,” growled Miller. “Did Benton do it?”

“I am happy to clear Mr. Benton of that imputation,” said Nick. “He did not do it.”

“Somebody did,” yelled Miller, and again the oaths broke forth.

Evidently the gang had no very cordial feeling toward its betrayer.

“Bring in Mr. Jones,” called Nick to Chick.

Parks and Chick entered on the instant. Nick could not help admiring the man’s nerve.

His one chance in the world was that the gang would not recognize him.

And he had seen his disguise--the most utterly impenetrable which ever shrouded the face of any human being.

He remembered the swarthy skin, the flashing black eyes, the beard of the color of a raven’s wing.

Yet when he appeared a cry broke from every crook’s throat in that criminal assembly.

“Helstone! Helstone!” they shouted.

Miller and one other actually burst their bonds in the frenzy of their wrath against the man whom they believed had betrayed them.

And Morton Parks stood there utterly at a loss for a defense. The recognition was too sudden and unanimous.

How had it happened? How could they have seen through that wonderful mask?

“Mr. Parks,” said Nick, stepping forward, “I promised that within the hour I would bring you face to face with the coward and villain who stabbed your wife.

“I will keep my word. Behold Doc Helstone!”

With a sudden movement Nick raised a mirror which he had held concealed behind him and thrust it before Parks’ face.

Parks leaped back as if a thunderbolt had struck him.

In that mirror he saw his face wearing the exact disguise which he had led his gang of thieves to believe was the real countenance of Doc Helstone.

There was the light-brown beard parted in the middle, there were the gray eyes and light eyebrows, and rather pale skin.

“Surprised, are you?” said Nick. “Why, it was the simplest thing in the world.

“When I made your face up half an hour ago I used a false beard colored with a substance which is black when it is moist, but light-brown when it is dry.

“Your eyebrows were colored with the same substance. It dries very quickly. Five minutes after I showed you the dark face in the glass you had begun to look like Doc Helstone. Every black line was fading into brown.

“The tint which I used on your skin acts the same way. It turns from a tan color to a pale flesh tint by simply being exposed to the air.

“It was very interesting to watch your face change into the character you so much wished to avoid. Of course you couldn’t see it yourself. It was changing almost all the time that we were talking.

“When you entered this room you fancied that you were disguised. In reality, your face was exactly as you now see it--the face of the man whom I saw walking away from the woman who had been stabbed.”