CHAPTER II.
THE MISSING RECTOR.
Nick Carter had more than one reason for complying with the request of the young lady who had arrived at his residence just as he was departing.
Nick was influenced not only by her manifest anxiety and agitation, but also by the fact that her wealthy father, Archibald Farley, who had died about a year before, leaving her something like five millions, had been a personal friend, and had frequently entertained him in his magnificent Westchester mansion.
Nick knew, moreover, that Harriet Farley was a remarkably sensible, level-headed girl, and that she would not thus have appealed to him without very serious occasion. He conducted her into his library, therefore, instead of to his business office, that he might suffer no interruption.
“Take an armchair, Miss Farley,” said he, placing one for her. “Compose yourself, too, for I see that you are quite nervous. What is the trouble?”
“I ought not to have come in here, Mr. Carter, for I want you to go with me,” she replied. “It may be just as well, however, if I first tell you the cause of my anxiety.”
“I think so,” said Nick, taking a chair near her.
She was a very beautiful girl, in the twenties, of light complexion, and with wonderfully blue, expressive eyes. Her features were of a refined and classic cast, evincing culture and strength of character. Her head was finely poised and crowned with an abundance of wavy auburn hair. She was above medium height, with a supple, graceful figure, the attractive lines of which were accentuated by her close-fitting, fashionable garments.
“You must not think my fear is foolish. Mr. Carter, nor my interest in this matter presumptuous,” she said earnestly, replying to the detective’s remark. “I have serious reasons for both, and I shall insist upon your investigating the matter immediately, if I can prevail upon you to do so.”
“Your father and I were very good friends, Miss Farley,” Nick replied. “I would be very glad to be of service to you.”
“I felt sure of it, Mr. Carter, thank you.”
“What is the matter to which you refer?”
“It relates to the disappearance of quite a noted young clergyman, the Reverend Austin Maybrick, rector of St. Lawrence Church, which I attend. I know that he has met with evil of some kind.”
“I know Mr. Maybrick very well by reputation,” said Nick. “He is fast becoming noted for his eloquence, his advanced ideas, and his charitable work among the lowest classes. He has a very wealthy parish, I believe?”
“Yes, very; it includes some of the richest residents of Westchester County.”
“You say that Mr. Maybrick is mysteriously missing?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since nine o’clock last evening.”
“But that is not long,” said Nick significantly. “Surely, Miss Farley——”
“I know what you would say, Mr. Carter, but it would have no weight with me,” she hurriedly interposed. “I am absolutely sure that he is the victim of knavery of some kind.”
“But why are you so sure of it? Have you any definite reasons?”
“Yes, many.”
“Tell me,” said Nick, “what are your reasons, and the circumstances in connection with his disappearance.”
Miss Farley drew up in her chair. A wave of red appeared in her cheeks and dispelled her paleness. She met Nick’s grave scrutiny with outward composure, however, and replied with characteristic frankness:
“I must begin, Mr. Carter, with telling you of my relations with Mr. Maybrick. He has been very kind to me since my father died a year ago, leaving me very wealthy, but deplorably alone in the world. Mr. Maybrick called often during my father’s illness, and his visits have been even more frequent since his death. They have given rise to rumors, Mr. Carter, that Mr. Maybrick and I are in love, and likely to be married.”
“Is there any truth in them?” Nick inquired.
“Yes.”
“Are you engaged to Mr. Maybrick?”
“I am, Mr. Carter, though the engagement has not been announced,” said Harriet. “I have been in mourning for a year, you know, discarding it only a week ago.”
“I understand,” said Nick.
“I have been very careful during my period of mourning that nothing should be said about my engagement, and I know that Mr. Maybrick has not disclosed it by so much as a hint. He is absolutely reliable.”
“No doubt.”
“The truth is suspected, nevertheless, and bitterly resented.”
“Resented by whom?”
“By a woman with whom Mr. Maybrick was on terms of friendly intimacy before falling in love with me,” said Miss Farley, coloring again. “He assures me that their friendship was entirely proper, which I fully believe, but the woman evidently intends to take advantage of it, and make trouble for him. She has threatened him with a lawsuit, to say nothing of other vengeful proceedings, unless he ends his relations with me and consents to marry her.”
“Who informed you of her feelings and intentions?” Nick inquired.
“Mr. Maybrick.”
“How does he regard her threats?”
“He has ignored them, Mr. Carter, and very properly, too,” said Miss Farley. “He knows that she has been stealthily watching him, nevertheless, spying by night near the rectory, though with what design he cannot conjecture.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“For more than a week, evidently, culminating in what occurred last night.”
“What was that?”
“Would to Heaven I could tell you,” Miss Farley fervently exclaimed. “Don’t ask me, Mr. Carter. That is what I want you to find out—and what has become of him.”
“You mean—— Stop a moment!” Nick abruptly digressed. “Who is this jealous woman, who evidently feels that she has been wronged by Mr. Maybrick?”
“Her name is Kate Crandall.”
“A resident in your town?”
“Yes.”
“What do you know about her? Is she young and attractive, of good character and habits, or——”
Miss Farley checked him with a gesture.
“I know nothing about her morals,” she replied. “She is quite a handsome woman, about thirty years old. She is not a person of means. She is in business as a public stenographer, and has been frequently employed by the day in that capacity by Mr. Maybrick. She took his sermons in shorthand, and prepared a typewritten copy for him. She has been accustomed to doing that work at the rectory. I do not feel it necessary to look deeper into their relations, Mr. Carter, for I have absolute faith in Mr. Maybrick’s honor and integrity. After what now has occurred, moreover——”
“Let’s drop everything else and come to that,” Nick interposed. “What can you tell me about it? You say that Mr. Maybrick was at home last evening?”
“Yes. He left the rectory about half past eight, as near as Mrs. Soule, his housekeeper, can inform me. She is the only servant employed by Mr. Maybrick, who has no near relatives. He is a man still under thirty, Mr. Carter.”
“Did he leave home alone?”
“Yes.”
“Without telling Mrs. Soule where he was going, or when he would return?”
“Neither,” said Miss Farley. “I will state all of the known circumstances, Mr. Carter, as briefly as possible.”
“Do so,” said Nick.
“On Tuesday evening, night before last, a woman called at the rectory to see Mr. Maybrick,” Miss Farley began. “Mrs. Soule admitted her, but she could not identify her, for the woman was closely veiled. Judging from her figure and carriage, however, she thinks it may have been Kate Crandall, but is not sure of it.”
“Continue,” said Nick. “I follow you.”
“Mr. Maybrick received the woman in his library, closing the door, and she remained with him for nearly an hour,” Miss Farley proceeded. “There would have been nothing strange in that, perhaps, but for what he did the following day, yesterday.”
“What was that?”
“He drew five hundred dollars from the bank in the morning. Mrs. Soule saw the bank notes on his desk while he was at lunch. In the afternoon, Mr. Carter, he borrowed a leather suit case from a man friend living near by. He has one of his own, also, and he put both of them near the front door in the hall. Mrs. Soule saw them there, and asked him if he was going away. He replied that he was, but that he was not going far.”
“Go on,” said Nick.
“When at dinner, about half past six, however, he told Mrs. Soule that she need not leave a light for him, as he might be out unusually late. He said not a word concerning his mission or designs. He left the rectory about half past eight, as I have said, taking both suit cases.”
“Containing some of his garments, I suppose?”
“On the contrary, Mr. Carter, both suit cases were—empty.”
“Empty!” echoed Nick, with more thoughtful gaze. “That indicates that he expected to bring back something in them?”
“Presumably.”
“How do you know they were empty?”
“Mrs. Soule had occasion to move one of them just before Mr. Maybrick departed,” Miss Farley explained. “She knew by its weight that it must be empty. She thought it strange that he had packed nothing in it, and she then lifted the other. That was empty, also, and Mr. Maybrick did not touch them again until he left the house.”
“H’m, I see!” Nick said quietly. “Anything more?”
“Not until this morning,” replied Miss Farley. “Mrs. Soule became anxious about nine o’clock, and she telephoned to me, asking me whether I knew why Mr. Maybrick was absent. I did not, of course, and, upon learning of the circumstances, I at once went to the rectory. I found Mr. Maybrick’s desk open, and I ventured to search for a letter, or something that might explain his absence.”
“Did you find anything?”
“Only something that greatly increased my anxiety.”
“What was that?”
“An empty revolver case in one of the drawers. I knew that he had such a weapon, Mr. Carter, for he has told me so, and I now feel sure that he took the revolver with him last evening. If I am right, it admits of only one interpretation, that he apprehended danger.”
“I agree with you,” said Nick. “Did you find the money mentioned, the five hundred dollars?”
“I did not,” Miss Farley said gravely. “It was not in his desk, nor in his bedroom. I think he took it with him, as well as the revolver, and I cannot but feel that he has met with foul play. He surely would have told Mrs. Soule if he had not intended to return before morning.”
“That does appear quite probable.”
“Oh, I am sure of it, Mr. Carter. It is not at all like Mr. Maybrick to have been negligent in that way.”
“Have you taken any other steps in the matter?” Nick inquired.
“I telephoned to the bank to learn whether Mr. Maybrick had said why he needed so large a sum as five hundred dollars,” said Miss Farley. “The teller could not inform me. Mr. Maybrick presented his check and drew the money, but he had no conversation with the teller.”
“I see.”
“I also communicated with the gentleman from whom he borrowed the suit case. He said that Mr. Maybrick did not inform him why he wanted it, but promised to return it this morning. That further convinces me, Mr. Carter, that he expected to return during the night.”
“I agree with you again,” said Nick. “Did he depart in a conveyance, or on foot?”
“On foot.”
“And you know nothing more of his movements?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“How long ago were you at the rectory?”
“About an hour ago. I came directly here in my limousine.”
“I will call up Mrs. Soule and you may talk with her,” said Nick, turning to the telephone on his library table. “Find out whether Mr. Maybrick has returned since you left the rectory. If not, tell Mrs. Soule that you have conferred with me, and that I will call there in about an hour. Direct her to say and do nothing more until I arrive.”
“I understand,” Miss Farley said, complying eagerly.
“I will take one of my assistants along, also, and get you to take us out there,” Nick added.
“I will gladly do so, Mr. Carter.”
“Very good. You probably know Mr. Maybrick’s number. Talk with Mrs. Soule as I have directed.”
Miss Farley hastened to obey, quickly obtaining only negative information from the anxious housekeeper.
The Reverend Austin Maybrick had not returned.
Nick Carter rang for Joseph and sent for Patsy Garvan, his junior assistant.
Five minutes later, in company with Miss Farley and her chauffeur, they were speeding toward Westchester County and the home of the missing rector.