CHAPTER X.
NICK CONFIRMS A THEORY.
The jury, who had been entering with Nick Carter and Patsy, were ushered into the bedroom where the remains of Andrew Anderton lay. Thence they were conducted to the study, and shown just how the deceased had been found lying on the floor.
After that, the coroner addressed the jury at some length, telling them all he knew about the case—which was not much—and asking them to find a verdict that would give the police something to work on.
The jury—several of whom had had experience in this sort of thing and knew what was required of them—promptly brought in a verdict that “the deceased had come to his death at the hands of some person or persons unknown.”
Doctor Farrell, the coroner, thanked the jury and told them they could go. Their foreman wrote the verdict, for record, and directly afterward there was no one left in the room but the coroner, Nick Carter, and Patsy Garvan.
“It’s the Yellow Tong, Mr. Carter,” remarked Doctor Farrell gravely. “Doctor Miles showed me the crossed needles that were found in the body, and said that the tong had been trying to get hold of certain papers prepared by Mr. Anderton, to be submitted to the government at Washington. The doctor also told me that you were interested in the case.”
“I am,” affirmed Nick.
“Glad to hear it, Mr. Carter,” responded Farrell heartily. “That means that poor Anderton will be avenged. Mind, I don’t mean to cast any reflections on the ability of the police department. But it can’t be denied that headquarters will be glad of your help.”
“I often work in coöperation with police headquarters,” was Nick’s quiet reply. “Where are the crossed needles that were found in Mr. Anderton’s chest?”
“Doctor Miles has them. He will produce them when required by the police. Do you want to examine them?”
“It is hardly necessary. I know as much about them as I require. They are charged with deadly poison, and a mere scratch is enough to cause death. What makes them the more dangerous is that they leave no marks. Even after death there is nothing to show that the poison has been used, unless there is an autopsy. I want to look about this room for a little while, however. You have finished with it, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I am glad to say. I had to come here to hold this inquest. But my investigation is only preliminary—just to comply with the form of law. The real work on the case begins where I leave off,” replied the coroner briskly. “Well, I must be going. I’ve a heap of work to do. Good morning!”
Doctor Farrell clattered down the stairs and out to the avenue, where his automobile was waiting. Nick Carter was glad to get rid of him. He sat down at the big table and took a white envelope out of the top drawer.
A moment’s comparison of the envelope with the scrap that Patsy had found on the stairs at Sun Jin’s laundry was sufficient to convince the detective that they were of the same kind. Then he looked into the wastebasket, which had never been emptied since the death of Anderton.
A low cry of satisfaction came from Nick Carter’s lips as he found some scraps of an envelope among the other torn paper.
With patience and care, the detective pieced the fragments together, until he had a sort of framework of an envelope. From the middle of it had been torn part of a name and address, which he was convinced had been that of Matthew Bentham.
“Yes,” he murmured, looking at the pieced envelope through the strong glass. “Here is the ‘M’ which he failed to tear off, and below is the whole word, ‘Brooklyn,’ with the initials ‘N. Y.’ I see. He wanted the address of Bentham, but he did not trouble to take the name of the borough. He knew it was in Brooklyn, anyhow.”
“Have you got something, chief?” asked Patsy, who had been watching in silence. “Did that bit of paper I got help at all?”
Nick Carter laughed a hearty, but silent, laugh.
“It has helped me to know where Professor Tolo has gone, or will go, I think,” he answered. “I’m going to see if I can find him. You stay here, however. I have a feeling that the mystery of Andrew Anderton’s death may be solved in or near his own home.”
“I don’t see, exactly,” replied Patsy. “But if you think Tolo had something to do with it, why don’t you nab him, and prove it on him afterward. That’s the way the police do, generally.”
“It’s a good way, too, in some cases, Patsy. But I want to get more than one man now. Besides, I don’t believe Professor Tolo actually committed this murder.”
“But he was behind it.”
“Very likely. But what I want is the rascal who killed Mr. Anderton. If once I were to show my hand by having this Japanese professor arrested, the Chinaman, or whoever it was that drove the crossed needles into his heart would take fright.”
“Either that or they would try to get you,” declared Patsy doggedly.
Nick Carter shrugged his shoulders. He believed the Yellow Tong was on his track now. That was why he wanted to strike at several of the members at once, instead of merely picking off one man—even so important a one as this Japanese professor seemed to be.
“Never mind about talking. Stay in this room till I come back. But—here is something else. I wish you would sit by that window, behind the lace curtains, and partly behind the dark ones that are drawn over the window at night.”
“I see,” threw in Patsy. “There are two sets of curtains, one inside the other. You want me to keep out of sight of anybody outside. But who is there to see me? At the back is a big, vacant lot, and we are too high for any one in the yard to look in.”
“Quite so, Patsy. I am aware that nobody in this yard could see you at the window, even if there were no curtains. But it is the next yard I want you to watch. The yard on your right as you stand at the window.”
“Oho!” exclaimed Patsy, with a low whistle. “I’m on. That’s where the chinks went when I missed them last night. They didn’t come in here, but they sneaked into the next house.”
“Probably.”
“Yes, and I bet they slipped down into the basement. There is a gate in the iron railings. I see just what they did. They went through that gate and were out of sight in the kitchen while I was watching this house. Gee! This is going to be dead easy!”
“I don’t know about that. But I hope we are getting a net around the rascals. I don’t think I shall be away more than an hour. I’m going to see Mr. Bentham, over in Brooklyn. If I don’t find anything there, I’ll come back as fast as Danny Maloney can bring me. If there is anything to keep me, I’ll telephone you right in this room from Mr. Bentham’s house. Get all that?”
“Every word. So long!”
Patsy moved over to the window and ensconced himself behind the curtain, in accordance with his instructions, and Nick Carter drove away to Brooklyn.