Chapter XXXI: A Baffling Situation

It was in the afternoon of the second day after the events related in the preceding chapters that Nick Carter, seated at his desk in his study in Madison Avenue, reached for the telephone in response to a ring upon it.

“Hello,” he said. “Who is it?”

“Am I speaking to Mr. Carter?” came the reply.

“Yes.”

“This is Thomas--confidential servant to Mr. Carleton Lynne,” said the voice at the other end of the telephone.

“Yes? Well, Thomas, what is wanted?”

“A strange thing has happened here, sir, and if it is possible I wish you would come to the house at once in the interest of Mr. Lynne.”

“Certainly; I can go there if he wishes me to do so, Thomas. Did he ask you to telephone to me?”

“No, sir; he is not here, sir; that is what the trouble is. He seems to have disappeared entirely within the last few hours. I am greatly troubled, Mr. Carter, else I would not have presumed to call upon you.”

The detective smiled to himself, then he replied:

“Thomas, I am greatly afraid that you are nervous. Your master has disappeared, you tell me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Gentlemen do not disappear from their own houses at midday, Thomas. Tell me exactly what has happened, and I will determine for myself whether it is necessary for me to go there.”

“You know, sir, that Mr. Lynne has not been out of the house--scarcely out of his own room--since the events of the other night, when that Red Mike came here and so nearly murdered him?”

“And you also; yes.”

“Well, sir, he is gone now, and I do not know where he has gone.”

Nick Carter permitted himself to chuckle.

“Possibly he has become tired of being kept in the house against his will, and has taken advantage of a temporary absence on your part, has dressed himself quietly, and gone out for a walk.”

“I don’t think so, sir. I don’t think that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know him so well that I am certain he would not do a thing like that. He is still so weak that he would not think of going out without me.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” replied the detective.

“I am, sir, if you will pardon me for saying so.”

“Oh, well----”

“I really think, sir, that you ought to come here if you can spare the time.”

“Oh, all right. I’ll be there inside of half an hour, Thomas.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carter.”

And so it happened that half an hour later Danny, the chauffeur, stopped the detective’s car before the door of the Lynne mansion, and Nick Carter, followed by Patsy, entered the big house.

Thomas, who had been on the watch for them, opened the door as they approached, admitting them at once; then he took their hats, and in silence led the way up the wide stairway to the second floor, and so into the sitting room of the suite that was devoted to the service of the last of the Lynnes.

“I thought it best to bring you directly to these rooms, sir,” Thomas said, addressing the detective. “I have not said a word to any of the other servants as yet. I have not even asked any questions of any of them, except general ones--enough to satisfy me that not one of them knows a thing about the going out of Mr. Lynne.”

“I am afraid, Thomas, that in this case you have been almost too discreet,” replied the detective. “Probably if you had asked a few direct questions, you would have found the reply to every question that troubles you now.”

“Pardon me, sir, but I don’t think so.”

“Well, tell me the story.” Nick glanced at his watch. “It is half-past four now. What time did you last see your master?”

“Shortly after noon, sir; between half-past twelve and one o’clock.”

“And then--he was where?”

“Seated in that chair, near the window. He had been reading. He was not dressed, save for his underclothing and a bath robe.”

“Well?”

“He rang for me, Mr. Carter. When I came into the room he directed me to assist him to dress. He put on his trousers, his shirt, slippers, and a smoking jacket. Then he sent me away, saying that was all. But as I was going out at the door, he called to me, and said:

“‘Thomas, I am expecting a caller--a lady. When she arrives you may let me know, and assist me down the stairs. I will receive her in the library.’”

“A lady?” said Nick.

“Yes, sir, that is what he said.”

“Well, what more did he say on the subject?”

“This: ‘According to the note I received, she should be here about half-past one, or two o’clock. Be on the watch for her, Thomas.’

“I assured him that I would be, sir, and left him. I have not seen him since that moment, and I have not----”

“Wait a moment. Don’t get ahead of your story.”

“No, sir.”

“Did the lady keep the appointment?”

“No, sir. There has been nobody here at all.”

“No caller of any description?”

“No, sir; nobody.”

“Are you quite certain of that?”

“I am absolutely positive--for two reasons.”

“What are they?”

“One is that I watched the door myself as Mr. Lynne had directed me to do; the other is that since I have discovered that he is not here, I have--very guardedly, of course--questioned the other servants who might have admitted any person.”

“Well?”

“Nobody has been here. Since half-past twelve o’clock to-day, until you arrived, there has been no summons at the door at all. I am positive of that.”

“Have you looked through the house? It is a big place. Mr. Lynne might have----”

“I have searched everywhere, sir. He is not in the house. Of that I am certain.”

“And no one saw him go out?”

“No, sir. I am the only person in the house who has seen Mr. Lynne at all to-day. I am his personal attendant, as you know. I wait upon him and look after his wants, and he has been so long accustomed to waiting upon himself that only his weakness from his recent illness permits that. He does not like to have any one else around him.”

“Yes, I have heard him say as much. Whose duty is it to attend to the door? How many servants are there in the house?”

“There are only four of us, sir: The housekeeper, the cook, the footman, and myself. The footman attends the door when the necessity arises, but we have had very few callers since we came here to live, as you are doubtless aware.”

“Yes.”

“You questioned the footman, you say?”

“Yes, sir. He was, during all that time, within sight of the front door, and within sound of the bell, for I had told him of the expected caller. No one came, and he did not see Mr. Lynne. And I might add, Mr. Carter, that I was personally within sight and sound of the door and the bell, also, and that I neither heard nor saw anything.”

“There are two side entrances to the house, Thomas.”

“Both are locked and bolted on the inside, sir, and have been all the time.”

“There is the rear entrance, also.”

“Yes, sir; but to pass out from the house that way, Mr. Lynne would have been obliged to walk around by the cemented walk to the front of the residence in order to go upon the street. The gardener has been employed all day close to that walk, and he has seen nothing of Mr. Lynne. Besides--oh, well, sir, I am sure that he did not go out that way.”

“Still he may have done so, and gone to the garage.”

“No, sir. The chauffeur has been there all day. He has seen nothing of Mr. Lynne.”

The detective seated himself upon one of the chairs near at hand and looked long and earnestly into the face of the servant who was relating this remarkable tale. At last he said:

“Thomas, nine men out of ten, listening to your story, would accuse you of doing some deliberate lying, having been directed to do so by your master, who, for some reason chose to create this mystery; or having your own private and personal reasons for doing it.”

“I am telling you nothing but the truth, sir, so far as I know it.”

Nick made no reply. The servant continued:

“Why should Mr. Lynne wish to create such a mystery, even if he were in good health, and had the strength and agility to get around unaided?--which you know he had not. And what possible incentive could I have----”

“I was turning those very questions over in my mind, Thomas. It is quite evident that Mr. Lynne is not here.”

“Quite so, sir; nor anywhere else in the house. I have searched everywhere.”

“Well, if he did not leave it by any of the routes we have mentioned, how could he have gone out?”

“That is just the puzzle, sir. There isn’t any way.”

“Well, if there isn’t any way to go out, he has not gone out. That’s a cinch!” It was Patsy, who had remained silent hitherto, who made this remark; and then, after a very short interval of silence, he added: “And if he did go out, it follows that there is a way for him to have done it.”

“Patsy,” said the detective, “that ingenious statement on your part deserves a medal. Now, Thomas?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring me the letters that you took to Mr. Lynne this morning. That announcement that he was to receive a caller must be contained in one of them.”

“Yes, sir. He said as much as that when he told me about it. Here they are, Mr. Carter.”

Thomas took four letters from a taboret beside the chair that Lynne was in the habit of using, and the very first one that the detective examined, addressed in a handwriting which Nick recognized instantly, was as follows:

“DEAR MR. LYNNE: I shall call upon you to-morrow shortly after
noon. You may expect me without fail; and also you may expect to
hear something of vital interest to you, and to others, also.

“Wednesday.

MADGE HURD-BABBINGTON.”