Jennie Baxter, Journalist
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Robert Barr >> Jennie Baxter, Journalist
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"Oh, have it as you wish," said Alder truculently. "It doesn't matter in
the least to me. It is very provoking to work hard for two weeks, and
then have everything nullified by a foolish decision from the editor.
However, as I have said, it doesn't matter to me. I have taken service
on the _Daily Trumpet_, and you may consider my place on the _Bugle_
vacant"--saying which, the irate Mr. Alder put his hat on his head and
left the room.
Mr. Hempstead seemed distressed by the discussion, but, for the first
time, Mr. Hardwick smiled grimly.
"I always insist on accuracy," he said, "and lack of it is one of
Alder's failings."
"Nevertheless, Mr. Hardwick, you have lost one of your best men. How are
you going to replace him?" inquired the proprietor anxiously.
"There is little difficulty in replacing even the best man on any staff
in London," replied Hardwick, with a glance at Miss Baxter. "As this
young lady seems to keep her wits about her when the welfare of her
paper is concerned, I shall, if you have no objection, fill Henry
Alder's place with Miss Baxter?"
Mr. Hempstead arched his eyebrows a trifle, and looked at the girl in
some doubt.
"I thought you didn't believe in women journalists, Mr. Hardwick," he
murmured at last.
"I didn't up till to-day, but since the evening papers came out I have
had reason to change my mind. I should much rather have Miss Baxter for
me than against me."
"Do you think you can fill the position, Miss Baxter?" asked the
proprietor, doubtingly.
"Oh, I, am sure of it," answered the girl. "I have long wanted a place
on a well-edited paper like the _Bugle_." Again Mr. Hardwick smiled
grimly. The proprietor turned to him, and said, "I don't quite see,
Mr. Hardwick, what a lady can do on this paper outside of the regular
departments."
"I hardly think there will be any trouble about that, Mr. Hempstead. For
example, who could be better equipped to attempt the solution of that
knotty question about the Princess von Steinheimer's diamonds?"
"By Jove!" cried Hempstead, his eyes glittering with excitement. "That
is an inspiration. I imagine that if anyone can unravel the mystery, it
is Miss Baxter."
CHAPTER IV.
JENNIE LEARNS ABOUT THE DIAMONDS OF THE PRINCESS.
"What about the diamonds of the Princess?" asked Miss Baxter, her
curiosity piqued by the remark of the editor.
"That is rather a long story," replied Mr. Hardwick, "and before I begin
it, I would like to ask you one or two questions. Can you manipulate a
typewriter?"
"That depends on what make it is. The ordinary typewriter I understand
very thoroughly."
"Good. Have you any knowledge of shorthand?"
"A workable knowledge; I can write about one hundred words a minute."
"Admirable! admirable! Your coming to this office was indeed an
inspiration, as Mr. Hempstead remarked. You are just the person I have
been looking for."
"You didn't seem to think so yesterday, Mr. Hardwick," said the girl
with a sly glance at him.
"Well, many things have happened since yesterday. We are now dealing
with to-day, and with the Princess von Steinheimer."
"She is a German princess, of course?"
"An Austrian princess, but an American woman. She was a Miss Briggs of
Chicago; a daughter of Briggs, the railway millionaire, worth somewhere
between twenty and twenty-five millions--dollars, of course. A year or
two ago she married Prince Konrad von Steinheimer; you may remember
having read about it in the papers?"
"Oh, yes; the usual international match--the girl after the title, he
after the money."
"I suppose so; but be that as it may, she is the only daughter of old
Briggs, and had spent a good deal of her time in Europe, but she spent
more than time; she spent the old man's money as well, so during her
stay in Europe she accumulated a vast stock of diamonds, some of them
very notable stones. I don't know what the whole collection is worth,
some say a million dollars, while others say double that amount. However
that may be, Miss Briggs became the Princess von Steinheimer, and
brought to Austria with her a million dollars in gold and the diamonds,
which her father gave as dowry; but, of course, being an only child, she
will come in for the rest of his money when the railway magnate dies."
"Is he likely to die soon? I don't suppose the Prince gave himself away
for a mere million."
"Oh, you forget the diamonds. As to the likelihood of old Briggs's
death, it didn't strike me as imminent when I had a conversation with
him yesterday."
"Yesterday? Is he here in London, then?"
"Yes; he has come over to disentangle the mystery about the diamonds."
"And what is the mystery? You take a dreadful long time to tell a story,
Mr. Hardwick."
"The story is important, and it must be told in detail, otherwise you
may go on a long journey for nothing. Are you taking down what I say in
shorthand? That is right, and if you are wise you will not transcribe
your notes so that anyone can read them; they are safer in that form.
The von Steinheimer family have two residences, a house in Vienna and an
ancient castle in the Tyrol, situated on the heights above Meran, a most
picturesque place, I understand; but very shortly you will know more
about it than I do, because the _Bugle_ expects you to go there as its
special correspondent. Here the diamond robbery took place something
like two months ago, and the affair is still as great a mystery as ever.
The Princess was to open the season at Meran, which is a fashionable
resort, by giving a fancy dress ball in Schloss Steinheimer, to which
all the Austrian and foreign notables were invited. It was just before
the ball began that the diamonds were first missed--in fact, the
Princess was about to put them on, she representing some gorgeously
decorated character from the Arabian Nights, when the discovery was made
that the diamonds were gone. She was naturally very much upset over her
loss, and sent at once for the Prince, her husband, insisting that the
police should be notified immediately and detectives called in, as was
perfectly natural. Now here comes a strange feature of the affair, and
this is that the Prince positively forbade any publicity, refusing his
sanction when she demanded that the police should be informed, and yet
the Prince knew better than anyone else the very considerable value of
the stones."
"What reason did he give for his refusal?" asked Miss Baxter, looking up
from her notes.
"I am not quite certain about that; but I think he said it was _infra
dig._ for the Steinheimers to call in the police. Anyhow, it was an
excuse which did not satisfy the Princess; but as guests were arriving,
and as it was desirable that there should be no commotion to mar the
occasion, the Princess temporarily yielded to the wish of her husband,
and nothing was said publicly about the robbery. The great ball was the
talk of Meran for several days, and no one suspected the private trouble
that was going on underneath this notable event. During these several
days the Princess insisted that the aid of the police should be invoked,
and the Prince was equally strenuous that nothing should be said or done
about the matter. Then, quite unexpectedly, the Prince veered completely
round, and proclaimed that he would engage the best detectives in
Europe. Strange to say, when he announced this decision to his wife, she
had veered round also, and opposed the calling in of the detectives as
strenuously as he had done heretofore."
"What reason did she give for her change of front?" asked Miss Jennie.
"She said, I believe, that it was now too late; that the thieves,
whoever they were, had had time to make away with their plunder, and
there would merely be a fuss and worry for nothing."
"Do you know, I am inclined to agree with her," asserted the girl.
"Are you? Then tell me what you think of the case as far as you have got."
"What do _you_ think?"
"I sha'n't tell you at this stage, because I know of further particulars
which I will give you later on. I merely want your opinion now, so that
I may see whether what I have to tell you afterwards modifies it in any
way."
"Well, to me the case looks decidedly dark against the Prince."
"That is what Mr. Briggs thinks. He imagines his Highness has the
jewels."
"Where did you get all these particulars?"
"From Mr. Briggs, who, of course, got them by letter from his daughter."
"Then we have, as it were, a one-sided statement."
"Oh, quite so; but still you must remember the Princess does not in the
least suspect her husband of the theft."
"Well, please go on. What are the further particulars?"
"The further particulars are that the Prince made some quiet
investigations among the servants, and he found that there was a man
who, although he was a friend of his own, was much more the friend of
the Princess, and this man had, on the day the ball was given, the
entire freedom of the castle. He is a young officer and nobleman.
Lieutenant von Schaumberg, and the Prince knew that this young man was
being hard pressed for some debts of honour which he did not appear to
be in a position to liquidate. The young man went unexpectedly to Vienna
the day after the ball, and on his return settled his obligations. The
Princess, from one of her women, got word of her husband's suspicion.
She went to the Prince at once, and told him she had come to his
own opinion with regard to the lost diamonds. She would, in no
circumstances, have detectives about the place. Then he told her that he
had also changed his mind, and resolved to engage detectives. So here
they were at a deadlock again. She wrote to her father with great
indignation about the Prince's unjust suspicions, saying von Schaumberg
was a gentleman in every sense of the word. I gather that relations
between herself and her husband are somewhat strained, so I imagine
there is much more in this matter than the lost diamonds."
"You imagine, then, that she is shielding the Lieutenant?"
"Candidly, I do."
"And you are of opinion he stole the diamonds?"
"Yes, I am."
"I don't agree with you. I still think it was the Prince, and I think
besides this, that he dexterously managed to throw suspicion on the
Lieutenant. Have they called in the detectives yet?"
"No, they are at a deadlock, as I remarked before."
"Well, what am I expected to do?"
"Mr. Briggs cabled to his daughter--he never writes a letter--that
he would come over and straighten out the tangle in fifteen minutes.
He is certain the Prince stole the diamonds, but he did not
tell his daughter so. He informed her he was bringing her a
present of a new typewriting machine, and also a young woman from
Chicago who could write shorthand and would look after the Princess's
correspondence--act as secretary, in fact; for it seems the Princess
has a larger correspondence than she can reasonably attend to, and she
appears therefore to yearn for a typewriter. The old man tells me she is
very careless about her letters, never being able to find anything
she wants, and leaving them about a good deal, so he thinks she needs
someone to look after her affairs; and I have a suspicion that her
father fears she may leave some compromising letter about, so he wishes
to ward off a divorce case."
"No, I fancy you are mistaken there. The father hasn't the slightest
idea that there can be anything wrong with his daughter. It is probable
the Princess has written some libellous statements about her husband,
and it is quite likely the Prince is a brute and that young von
Schaumberg is a most charming person."
"Well, as I was saying," continued Hardwick, "the old man cabled his
daughter that he is bringing her a secretary and a typewriter. He
engaged a female Pinkerton detective to enter the castle as secretary to
the Princess and, if possible, to solve the diamond mystery. She is a
young woman who, when she left Chicago, was very anti-English, but
she became acquainted on the steamer with a young Englishman who was
tremendously taken with her, and so at Liverpool she quite calmly broke
her engagement with the old man and fulfilled a new engagement she had
made with the young man by promptly marrying him--special license, I am
told. Old Briggs has therefore a new typewriting machine on his hands,
and so I was going to propose to you that you take the place of the
Chicago Pinkerton person. Briggs has become so disgusted with all these
detective women that he abandoned the idea of sending a female detective
with the machine, and doesn't imagine that whoever is sent will be
either a detective or a newspaper woman. I was introduced to him the
other day by one of those lucky chances which sometimes put interesting
items of news in our way, and he told me the whole story, requesting me
to recommend someone who wrote shorthand and understood the typewriter.
I am to dine with him this evening, and I shall cordially recommend you.
I may say that Briggs has gone to that celebrated London detective Mr.
Cadbury Taylor, and has engaged him to solve the diamond mystery. So
you see you will have a clear field. If you can leave for the castle
to-morrow night, you may have the pleasure of Mr. Cadbury Taylor's
company. He isn't visiting the castle, but goes straight to Vienna; so
if you work your cards rightly, you can be in the same carriage with
him as far as Munich, and during that time you may find out perhaps what
he thinks about the case. I know only this much about his theory, and
that is he thinks the right place to begin is in Vienna, where some, at
least, of the stones are supposed to have been pawned."
"Oh, this is a delightful case, and I shall enjoy it. Has there been
anything published yet with reference to the robbery?"
"Not a word; nobody knows anything about it, except the Prince and
Princess, Briggs, myself and yourself, and perhaps one or two of the
servants in the castle--oh, yes, and Cadbury Taylor."
CHAPTER V.
JENNIE MEETS A GREAT DETECTIVE.
Miss Baxter was early at the station before the Continental train left.
She walked up and down the platform, hoping to see Mr. Cadbury Taylor,
with whose face and form she was familiar. She secured a porter who
spoke French, and pretended to him that she knew no English.
"I desire," she said, "to get into a first-class compartment with
a gentleman whom I shall point out to you. I shall give you five
shillings, so you must let me have your whole attention. My luggage has
been labelled and registered, therefore you will not need to bother
about it, but keep your eye on me and follow me into whatever carriage I
enter, bringing with you the hand-bag and this heavy package."
The heavy package was a typewriter in its case. Shortly before the train
departed, there sauntered into the station the tall, thin, well-known
form of the celebrated detective. He wore a light ulster that reached
almost to his heels, and his keen, alert face was entirely without beard
or moustache. As he came up the platform, a short, stout man accosted
him.
"I was afraid you were going to be late," said the detective's friend,
"but I see you are just in time as usual."
"A railway station," said Mr. Cadbury Taylor, "is not the most inspiring
place in London for the spending of a spare half hour; besides, I had
some facts to get together, which are now tabulated in my note-book, and
I'm quite ready to go, if the train is."
"I have secured a smoking compartment here where we shall be alone."
"That's right, Smith," said Cadbury Taylor. "You are always so
thoughtful," and the two men entered the compartment together.
Just as the guards were shouting, "Take your seats, please," Miss Baxter
made a bolt for the compartment in which the detective and his friend
sat together in opposite corners.
"I beg your pardon," said Smith, "this is a smoking compartment." The
lady replied to him volubly in French, and next instant the porter
heaved the typewriter and hand-bag on the seat beside her. Smith seemed
to resent the intrusion, and appeared about to blame the porter, but the
man answered rapidly as he banged the door shut, "The lady doesn't speak
any English," and the next moment the train moved out of the station.
"There was no need," said the detective, "my dear Smith, to depend upon
the porter for the information that the lady could not speak English.
She is the secretary to a very rich employer in Chicago, and came from
that city to New York, where she sailed on the _Servia_ alone, coming to
England to transact some special business, of which I could here give
you full particulars, if it were worth while. She came from Liverpool to
London over the Great Western Railway, and is now on her way to Paris.
All this, of course, is obvious to the most casual observer, and so, my
dear Smith, we may discuss our case with as much security as though we
were entirely alone."
"But, good heavens, Cadbury!" cried Smith in amazement, "how can you
tell all that?"
"My dear fellow," said the detective wearily, "no one travels with a
typewriting machine unless that person is a typewriter. The girl, if
you will notice, is now engaged in filling the leaves of her book with
shorthand, therefore that proves her occupation. That she is secretary
to a rich man is evidenced by the fact that she crossed in the _Servia_
first cabin, as you may see by glancing at the label on the case; that
she came alone, which is to say her employer was not with her, is
indicated by the typewriter being marked 'Not Wanted,' so it was put
down into the hold. If a Chicago business man had been travelling with
his secretary, the typewriter case would have been labelled instead,
'Cabin, wanted,' for a Chicago man of business would have to write some
hundreds of letters, even on the ocean, to be ready for posting the
moment he came ashore. The typewriter case is evidently new, and is
stamped with the name and address of its sellers in Chicago. That she
came by the Great Western is shown by the fact that 'Chester' appears
on still another label. That she has special business in England we may
well believe, otherwise she would have crossed on the French line direct
from New York to Havre. So you see, my dear boy, these are all matters
of observation, and quite patent to anyone who cares to use his eyes."
"Yes, it all seems very simple now that you have explained it," growled
Smith.
"I should be a much more mysterious person than I am," remarked the
detective complacently, "if I did not explain so much. This explanation
habit is becoming a vice with me, and I fear I must abandon it."
"I hope for my sake you won't," said Smith more good-naturedly, "for if
left to myself I never could find out how you arrive at your wonderful
conclusions. Do you expect the Austrian diamond mystery to prove
difficult?"
"Difficult? Oh, dear no! To tell the truth, I have solved it already,
but in order to give the American a run for his money--and surely he
ought not to object to that, because he is a millionaire who has made his
fortune by giving other people runs for their money, being a railway
man--I am now on my way to Vienna. If I solved the problem off-hand for
him in London, he would have no more appreciation of my talent than you
had a moment ago when I explained why I knew this French girl came from
Chicago."
"You mustn't mind that, Cadbury," said Smith contritely. "I confess I
was irritated for a moment because it all seemed so simple."
"My dear fellow, every puzzle in this world is simple except one, and
that is to find any problem which is difficult."
"Then who stole the diamonds? The lieutenant?"
The detective smiled and gazed upwards for a few tantalizing moments at
the roof of the carriage.
"Here we have," he said at last, "an impecunious prince who marries an
American heiress, as so many of them do. The girl begins life in Austria
on one million dollars, say two hundred thousand pounds, and a case
of diamonds said to be worth another two hundred thousand at
least--probably more. Not much danger of running through that very
speedily, is there, Smith?"
"No, I should think not."
"So the average man would think," continued the detective. "However, I
have long since got out of the habit of thinking; therefore I make sure.
The first problem I set to myself is this: How much money have the
Prince and Princess spent since they were married? I find that the
repairs on the Schloss Steinheimer, situated in the Tyrol, cost
something like forty thousand pounds. It is a huge place, and the
Steinheimers have not had an heiress in the family for many centuries.
The Prince owed a good deal of money when he was married, and it took
something like sixty thousand pounds to settle those debts; rather
expensive as Continental princes go, but if one must have luxuries, one
cannot save money. Not to weary you with details, I found that the two
hundred thousand pounds were exhausted somewhat more than two months
ago; in fact, just before the alleged robbery. The Prince is, of course,
without money, otherwise he would not have married a Chicago heiress,
and the Princess being without money, what does she naturally do?"
"Pawns her own diamonds!" cried Smith enthusiastically.
The detective smiled.
"I thought it much more probable she would apply to her father for
money. I asked him if this was the case, giving him the date, roughly
speaking, when such a letter had been sent. The old man opened his eyes
at this, and told me he had received such a letter. 'But you did not
send the money?' I ventured, 'No,' he said, 'I did not. The fact is,
money is very tight in Chicago just now, and so I cabled her to run on
her debts for a while.' This exactly bore out the conclusion at which I
had already arrived. So now, having failed to get money from her father,
the lady turns to her diamonds, the only security she possesses. The
chances are that she did so before her father's cable message came, and
that was the reason she so confidently wished information to be given to
the police. She expected to have money to redeem her jewels, and being a
bright woman, she knew the traditional stupidity of the official police,
and so thought there was no danger of her little ruse being discovered.
But when the cable message came saying no money would be sent her, a
different complexion was put upon the whole affair, for she did not know
but if the police were given plenty of time they might stumble on the
diamonds."
"But, my dear Cadbury, why should she not have taken the diamonds openly
and raised money on them?"
"My dear fellow, there are a dozen reasons, any one of which will
suffice where a woman is in the case. In the first place, she might fear
to offend the family pride of the von Steinheimers; in the second place,
we cannot tell what her relations with her husband were. She may not
have wished him to know that she was short of money. But that she has
stolen her own diamonds there is not the slightest question in my mind.
All that is necessary for me to do now is to find out how many persons
there are in Vienna who would lend large sums of money on valuable
jewels. The second is to find with which one of those the Princess
pawned her diamonds."
"But, my dear Cadbury, the lady is in Meran, and Vienna is some hundreds
of miles away. How could a lady in the Tyrol pawn diamonds in Vienna
without her absence being commented on? or do you think she had an agent
to do it for her?" Again the detective smiled indulgently.
"No, she had no agent. The diamonds never left Vienna. You see, the ball
had been announced, and immediate money was urgently needed. She pawned
the diamonds before she left the capital of Austria, and the chances are
she did not intend anyone to know they were missing; but on the eve of
the ball her husband insisted that she should wear her diamonds, and
therefore, being a quick-witted woman, she announced they had been
stolen. After having made such a statement, she, of course, had to
stick to it; and now, failing to get the money from America, she
is exceedingly anxious that no real detective shall be employed in
investigation."
At Dover Miss Baxter, having notes of this interesting conversation in
shorthand, witnessed the detective bid good-bye to his friend Smith, who
returned to London by a later train. After that she saw no more of Mr.
Cadbury Taylor, and reached the Schloss Steinheimer at Meran without
further adventure.
CHAPTER VI.
JENNIE SOLVES THE DIAMOND MYSTERY.
Miss Baxter found life at the Schloss much different from what she had
expected. The Princess was a young and charming lady, very handsome, but
in a state of constant depression. Once or twice Miss Baxter came upon
her with apparent traces of weeping on her face. The Prince was not
an old man, as she had imagined, but young and of a manly, stalwart
appearance. He evidently possessed a fiendish temper, and moped about
the castle with a constant frown upon his brow.
The correspondence of the Princess was in the utmost disorder. There
were hundreds upon hundreds of letters, and Miss Baxter set to work
tabulating and arranging them. Meanwhile the young newspaper woman kept
her eyes open. She wandered about the castle unmolested, poked into odd
corners, talked with the servants, and, in fact, with everyone, but
never did she come upon a clue which promised to lead to a solution of
the diamond difficulty. Once she penetrated into a turret room, and
came unexpectedly upon the Prince, who was sitting on the window-ledge,
looking absently out on the broad and smiling valley that lay for miles
below the castle. He sprang to his feet and stared so fiercely at the
intruder that the girl's heart failed her, and she had not even the
presence of mind to turn and run.
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