Room Number 3, and Other Detective Stories

ttracted by the many cases of well-known men found drowned in th

picked up off Governor’s Island after having been in the water for five days, and of another well-known millionaire whose name I cannot now recall, but who, I remember,

l by the same method of drowning, we soon became suspicious that a more serious verdict than that of suicide should have been rendered in the case of Henderson, Bigelow, and the oth

welry, but papers and memoranda of a nature calculated to fix the identity of the drowned man, in case the water should rob him of hi

let this matter drop when the others did, but kept my mind persistently upon it and waited,

rowned, which would serve to explain their similar fate. But all my efforts in this direction were

influence over the whole force. He was sitting in his private room, when there was ushered into his presence a young man of

a certain pawnshop in the Bowery where I had been told I could raise money on my prospects. This place — you may see it some time, so I will not enlarge upon it — did not strike me favourably; but, being very anxious for a cer

uggested that I should make an appointment with my father at a place he called Groll’s in Grand Street, where, said he, ‘your little affair will b

d two young fellows at my elbows, who held me quiet for five minutes, while the old fellow talked to me. He asked me if I came to him on a fool’s errand or really to get money; and when I admitted that I had cherished hopes of obtaining a clear two th

, I asked, with a certain weak show of being sorry for my for

t where you are to go to find him. I threw out a bait to see if you would snap a

I did not understand, but which made me more or less uneasy in regard to his intentions towa

ay we will show it to your father and that will put an end to all your hopes of future fortune.’ Then ra

hese words: ‘For moneys received, I agree to notify Rube Goodman, within the month, of the death of my father, so that he may recover

at once with what I had done, and get his advice as to whether or not I should inform the police of my adventure. He heard me with more

statement in writing, and, after getting a more accurate d

fair with much spirit. But, wishing to be sure that my possibly unwarranted conclusions were correct, I took pains to inquire, before proceeding upon my errand, into the character of the heirs who had inherited the property of Elwood Henderson and Christopher Bigelo

re alluded to, by which I was to enter the pawnshop as an emissary of the latter. Accordingly, I appeared there, one dull November after

al air of ownership I thought most likely to impose upon the self-s

ncing with suspicion at my short coat, w

n my own business, but o

d, reaching towards me the famous book, over the to

of the young gentleman on whose behalf I was supposed to be there

where sat a man with a great beard and such heavy overhanging eyebrows that

ed behind me at the open door, and above me at the partitions, which f

but who since then has had time to think the matter over, and has sent me with an apology which he hopes”— here I put

n a way to unmask me had I possessed less confide

ung gentleman’s name

fter which he began to rub his palms softly together with an unction eminently in keeping w

ggested, with just the suspicion of an ironical laugh. “Thought, perhaps, I would ex

up if I had not been very much on my guard; but it all ended, as such matters usually do, in mutual understanding, and a promise that if the young gentleman was willing to sign a certain pape

lt of my visit, I asked if his interest in ferreting out these criminals was strong enough to lead him to sign the vile document which the pawnbroker would probably have in readiness for him on the

was personifying. Making myself square with the proprietor I took up my quarters in the room of my sporting friend, and the better to deceive any spy who might be lurking about, I r

e adventure, and the lurking sense there was in it of brooding death and horror. The scene, which in these days is disturbed by elevated railroad trains and the flapping of long lines of parti-coloured clothes strung high up across the quiet tombstones, was at that time one of peaceful rest, in th

side at once. Merely glancing my way, he shuffled up to my companion, and leading him aside, drew out a paper which he l

easons which had induced the old ghoul to make use of this spot for his diabolical business, and had about decided that it was because he was a ghoul, a

y boys I had engaged to stand by me through this affair had spott

me sneaking towards me, with a gleam o

ted. “The young gentleman told me to say

nge from indifference to menace which I thought best calculated to further my plans; and shouldering the miserable

iven you!” I whispered, in a tone quite out of keepi

ind us. Instantly the young man before me rose to the occasion,

ather, saying that if he wants to know where his son loses his hundreds, he must go to the place on the dock, opposite 5 South Street, some night shortly after nine. It would n

son haunts, he must take the precaution of tying a bit of blue ribbon in his buttonhole. It is a signal meaning business, an

ack to the hotel, where I dropped “the sport,” and assumed a character and dress which enabled me to make my way undetected to the house

ttle. In the few communications I was enabled to hold with my superiors I told them of my progress and arranged with them my plan of work. As we all ag

le thought and labour. But assisted as I was by the darkness, I had but little fear of betraying myself to any chance spy who might be upon the watch, especially as Mr. L—— had a peculiar walk, which, in my short stay with him, I had learned to imitate perfectly. In the lapel of my overcoat

besides, of a vague consciousness that there was something odd in connection with it which had aroused my curiosity sufficiently in the past for me to have once formed the resolution of seeing it again under circumstances which would allow me to give it some

hrough which shone a light, inviting enough to one chilled by the keen November air and oppressed by the desolate appearance of the almost deserted str

ice boat they had promised to have in readiness in case I needed rescue from the waterside. Otherwise the surroundings were as usual, and saving the gruff

ituation on the dock, and the ghostly effect of the hoisting-beam projecting from the upper story like a gibbet. And yet this beam was common to many a warehouse in the vicinity, though in none of them were there any such signs of life as proc

atmosphere into which I stepped, but presently I was able to distinguish the vague outlines of an oyster bar in the distance, and the motionless figures of some half-dozen men, whose movements

en once used as a ship chandlery, and on the walls, which were but partly plastered, there still hung old bits of marlin

end of the room near a window, through whose small, square panes I caught a glimps

igures in the contracted space of this long and narrow room, and my heart gave a bound of joy as I recognise

so were the two other waterside characters I could faintly disce

about his thin drawn lips there lay, for all his conciliatory smile, an expression so cold and yet so ferocious that I spotted him at once as the man to whose genius we were indebted for the new scheme of murder which I was jeopardisi

he asked, letting his glance fall for th

ently comprehended, “my son has, and I have made up my mind to know just what deviltr

u want a private room from which you can watch the young scapegrace. I understand,

nto his hand. “Now take me where I shall be safe,” I suggested, “and yet in full sight of

ee I do not ask you the young gentleman’s name. I take your money and leave all the res

only for an instant. I had friends about me and a pistol at half-cock in the pocket

precaution? I glanced towards my two friends playing cards, took another note of their broad shoulders and brawny arms, and prepared to follow my

, and knotted ends of tarred ropes, which swung to and fro as the sharp November blast struck the building, giving out a weird and strangely muffled sound. Why did this sound,

look up as I passed them, I noticed that they were alert and ready for any signal I might choose to give them. B

suddenly vanished, and we found ourselves in total darkness. The door at the foot had been clo

ll, while my companion, exclaiming, “Damn that fellow! What does he mean by shutting the door before we’re hal

small landing at the top of the stairs. An open door was before me, in which he stood bowing,

with the exception of one small light situated so high up in the corner made by the jutting staircase that I wondered at its use, and was only relieved of extreme apprehension at the prison

ed to make reassuring and friendly. “That is your post of observation, sir,” he whispered, with a great show

st, I merely smiled a little grimly, and cast a glance at

red; “not such stuff as we gi

ers and he slowly ba

uiet,” I suggested, with a careless wave o

e yet. They begin to stra

er, “I am likely, then, to

made a swift motio

tablishment is at your service.” And with one final grin that remains in my mind as the most threateni

althy feet descend the stair. But when I sought to follow, I found myself for the second time overwhelmed by darkness. The gas jet, which had hitherto burned with great brightness in the small room, had

d began feeling for the knob I could no longer see. Finding it after a few futile attempts, I was relieved to discover that this door at least was n

et mine as to how men passed from this room into the watery gra

, in mortal peril. Would it come in the form of a bullet, or a deadly thrust from an unseen knife? I did not think so. For, to say nothing of the darkne

handed treachery which would rob me of consciousness and make the precipitation of my body into the water both safe and easy. Perhaps it was in the bottle of br

, mounted, and was about to peer through, when the light in that apartment was put out also. Angry and overwhelmed, I leaped down, and, stretching out my hands till they touched the wain

er or put to my mouth the whistle upon which I depended for assistance and safety? It was hard to tell, but I determined to cling to my first intention a little longer, and so stood waiting and

ranged between us. But the lack of windows in the room had made all such arrangements futile, so I knew as little

en the suspense grew intolerable I struck a match and let its blue flame flicker for a moment over the face of my watch. But the mat

t the top of the stairs, and, stretching out my arms, I felt for the boarding on either hand, guiding myself by it, and began to desce

my feet slipped and I slid forward, plunging and reaching out with hands whose frenzied grasp found nothing to cling to, down a steep inclined plane — or what to my bewildered senses ap

. But happily for me the splash I made told the story

nd confound the obliging host with a sight of my dripping garments and accusing face. And, indeed, in all my professional experience I have never beheld a more sudden merging of the bully into a coward than w

saw it; and Ebenezer G

ers to run the finished sails into the waiting yawls below. At the time of my adventure, and for some time before, the possibilities of the place had been discovered by mine host, who had ingeniously put a partition up the entire stairway, dividing the steps from

the other, naturally gave the impression that there was but one door. When this adroit villain called my attention to the little window around the corner, he no doubt removed the knob from the stairs’ door and quickly place

rgotten the horror of the moment when my feet slipped from under me, and I felt myself sliding downward, without hope

m the whole method of operating this death-trap, together with every detail of