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Chapter III: How Nick Sized It Up

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Nick Carter came out from dinner in his Madison Avenue residence after eight o’clock, two hours later than usual. Instead of going to his business office, he entered his private library, saying to Joseph, his butler, as he passed him in the deep, attractively furnished hall:

“Send Chick and Patsy to me. They’re in the office.”

Nick had waited only a few moments, when he was joined by his chief assistant, Chick Carter, who was presently followed by Patsy Garvan. Both knew that something of importance was in the wind, and Nick at once proceeded to tell them of what it consisted, covering all of the essential points of the case.

“Gee, that’s some puzzle, chief, for fair!” commented Patsy, after listening attentively. “What’s the game? His royal nob from England must be a decent sort of a chap, after all, don’t you know. He sure has been dead square with the chorus girl.”

“So he is, Patsy, and less shallow than he appears,” Nick replied. “But he don’t know enough about business to last him overnight. Evidently, however, his wife is a keen and clever girl, as well as handsome.”

“Why not? She’s an American girl,” said Patsy.

“That’s one reason why I took on the case,” smiled Nick.

“The Imperial Loan Company,” put in Chick. “Why, I know that concern. It’s nothing else but a high-grade pawnshop. It was established by Isaac Meyer several years ago. I knew him when he had a shop in the Bowery. But he’s nearly down and out, now with creeping paralysis. He never leaves home.”

“Where is that?” Nick inquired.

“Over in Columbus Avenue.”

“Who runs his business?”

“His manager,” said Chick. “A man named Morris Garland. He has been with Meyer since he opened the Fifth Avenue place. It’s only a few blocks from where you met the Englishman.”

“I know the place very well, Chick, but none of the inmates,” said Nick. “What do you know about Garland?”

“He’s all aboveboard, Nick, as far as I know,” Chick replied. “There is only one out about him, if that really cuts any ice.”

“What is that?”

“I have seen him quite frequently with Stuart Floyd. They appear to be very friendly. You know Floyd, of course. He’s about as keen and slick a fellow as can be found in this old town.”

“Do you think so?”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t know much about him, Chick, save that he is a well-known man about town. The police have nothing on him, have they?”

“No, nothing that I know of,” Chick admitted. “Floyd has no record, to be sure, barring a record that makes him a mystery to me, at least.”

“Why a mystery?”

“Because he has no visible means of support, yet he always has plenty of money, or appears to have,” said Chick. “He inherited nothing, nevertheless, for I knew his people, as I have known him for years.”

“I see.”

“He has lived by his wits since he was fifteen. I never knew him to do a stroke of work. At thirty, nevertheless,” Chick pointed out, “he frequents the best hotels and restaurants, lives like a lord, dresses like a millionaire, and spends money more lavishly than most of them. He apparently is a thoroughbred sport and man about town. But where does the coin come from? How does he get by? If that don’t constitute a mystery, Nick, what the dickens does? I’m from Missouri. You’ll have to show me.”

Nick laughed.

“We are drifting from the more important matter,” said he. “You know of nothing wrong in his relations with Morris Garland, do you?”

“No, nothing,” Chick allowed. “I’ve told you all I know about him.”

“He is not alone in those respects,” Nick replied. “There are hundreds like him. I have heard, of course, that Stuart Floyd is a slick fellow. He really looks it, as far as that goes, for he is as clean-cut, attractive a man as one often meets. That’s neither here nor there, however, at this stage of the game. We’ll get back to Hecuba.”

“Do you suspect the Imperial Loan Company, chief, in connection with Lady Waldmere’s disappearance?” asked Patsy.

“I do.”

“Why?”

“For two reasons,” said Nick. “First, because there seems to be no one else to suspect. Second, because the episode occurred so soon after her visit to the loan company. That suggests a possible connection between them.”

“I see the point.”

“Furthermore, there are ten thousand dollars involved, or jewels valued at close upon thirty,” Nick added. “Those may be the incentive to knavery of some kind. There seems to be no other motive for a crime, in fact, assuming that a crime really has been committed.”

“That’s right, too, chief,” nodded Patsy. “There seems to be nothing else to be gained, if Lord Waldmere had told a straight story.”

“I have no doubt of that.”

“But what could the loan company gain by abducting the woman?” Chick questioned, perplexed. “The jewels must be in their possession.”

“Very true,” Nick admitted. “They knew that Lady Waldmere had called to redeem them, and that she must have brought the funds with which to do so. They may not have known, however, that she intended redeeming the pledge with a certified check. They may have thought that she had the ten thousand dollars in cash on her person.”

“Gee! that listens good to me, chief!” cried Patsy, quick to see the point. “That seems to be the only way to size it up.”

“That is one way, at least,” Nick replied, smiling a bit oddly.

“But it must have been a mighty slick job, Nick, in that case,” Chick objected, with manifest doubt of the theory advanced by the other.

“It was a slick job.”

“But how could they have framed it up so quickly?”

“What are you driving at?” Patsy demanded, turning upon Chick. “Why quickly?”

“That ought to be plain enough even to you,” Chick retorted. “Lord Waldmere stated that he and his wife were in the office of the loan company only about five minutes.”

“Well, I admit that.”

“It is obvious, too, that their visit could not have been anticipated,” Chick proceeded to argue. “Neither Morris Garland, nor the assistant manager, Moses Hart, could have known that Lady Waldmere had any intention of redeeming the jewelry at just that time.”

“True again, old man,” nodded Patsy, with an expression of perplexity returning to his face.

“That’s what I mean, then, by their having framed up the job so quickly,” Chick forcibly added.

“I get you.”

“They would have had only five minutes in which to have laid their plans and made all the arrangements for executing them. That’s a mighty short time in which to shape up such a job, to say nothing of getting ready to carry it out. It’s not a simple stunt to pick up a woman on Fifth Avenue and get away with her from under her husband’s eyes.”

“Say, you’re getting wiser every minute, Chick,” cried Patsy, laughing. “I begin to think there really is something in what you say.”

“You ought to have seen it before.”

“What do you say, chief?”

Nick laughed and knocked the ashes from the cigar he was smoking.

“Chick’s argument is all right, Patsy, as far as it goes,” he replied. “We know that the couple were only a short time in the office of the loan company, and that their visit could not have been anticipated. We are not pinned down to five minutes, however.”

“What do you mean?” questioned Chick.

“What Lord Waldmere really said was this--that, after talking with one of the clerks, who very likely was the assistant manager, the latter went into Garland’s private office, where he remained about five minutes before either of them came out to resume the discussion.”

“Gee! that’s right, too,” nodded Patsy.

“And it is quite significant,” Nick added. “It certainly would not have taken Hart five minutes to state merely what the couple wanted.”

“Surely not.”

“Garland could have come out and joined them in half a minute, as far as that goes. Why, then, did he not do so? What were the two men doing that occupied five full minutes? It looks very much to me as if they were framing a job.”

“But----”

“One moment, Chick,” Nick interposed. “I know you’re going to object again to my theory. I advanced that, however, as a matter of fact, only to point out that there could have been a reasonable motive for knavery.”

“Ah, that’s different,” said Chick, smiling.

“I have no idea, nevertheless, assuming that Garland and Hart are back of this business, that they aimed to rob Lady Waldmere of money supposed to be on her person,” Nick continued. “They would not have acted upon a mere supposition. They first would have made absolutely sure that she had the money.”

“Certainly,” Chick nodded. “That goes without saying.”

“All the same, chief, there was a job framed up for some reason during those five minutes,” Patsy said roundly. “I’d wager my bankroll on that.”

“I think so, too,” Nick agreed.

“But what’s the game?” Chick questioned, still doubtful.

“Can’t you think of one that may have been necessary?”

“Not on the spur of the moment.”

“I can,” said Nick, smiling.

“Well, well, out with it,” laughed Chick, coloring slightly. “What do you suspect?”

Nick laid aside his cigar.

“Pull up a little nearer,” said he. “I can tell you with very few words what I suspect--and how we may contrive to clinch my suspicions.”

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Nick Carter Stories No. 139, May 8, 1915: The Pressing PerilChapter III: How Nick Sized It Up

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