Nick Carter Detective Library, No. 1

Nick Carter Detective Library, No. 1
The Solution of a Remarkable Case

NOTE.-The following story was told to the writer by Nick Carter as
being the most remarkable, and in many respects, the most mysterious
case in his experience. It baffled the shrewdest detectives on the regular
force, and had practically been abandoned when Nick Carter took hold
of it. I tell the story in my own way and in the third person, but the
facts, scenes and incidents are reproduced as nearly as possible in the
great detective's own words.
THE AUTHOR.
CHAPTER I.
THE MURDER IN FORTY-SEVENTH STREET.
The city of New York was electrified one evening by the news that one
of its greatest favorites had been foully murdered.
Eugenie La Verde had been found dead in her room and the murderer
had not left a single clew, however slight, by which he could be traced.
Mademoiselle La Verde had been before the public for two seasons as a
danseuse, and by her remarkable beauty and modesty, as well as by the
unparalleled grace with which she executed her inimitable steps she
had won her way to the hearts of all.
On the evening preceding her death she had danced as usual, winning
round after round of applause, and a deluge of flowers.
Immediately after the performance she had been driven to her home in
Forty-seventh street, accompanied only by her maid, who had been

with her for many years, and who scarcely ever left her presence.
The maid had attended her as usual that night; had remained with her
until she had disrobed, and then, at her mistress' request, had given her
a book, and retired.
Eugenie had bade her servant good-night as usual, adding the
injunction that she did not wish to be disturbed before ten o'clock on
the following morning.
At ten o'clock precisely on the morning of the succeeding day, the maid,
whose name was Delia Dent, had gone to her mistress' room to assist
her in dressing, and upon entering, had been so horrified by the sight
that met her gaze that she had swooned away then and there.
Eugenie La Verde was lying upon her bed, clad in the soft wrapper
which the maid had helped her to don before leaving her on the
preceding night.
Her face was distorted and swollen almost beyond recognition, and in
spots was highly discolored, where the blood had coagulated beneath
the skin. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were wide and staring,
even yet filled with an expression of the horror through which she had
passed just before her death. Her delicate hands, pretty enough for an
artist's model, were clenched until the finger-nails had sunk into the
tender flesh and drawn blood. The figure bore every evidence of a wild
and terrific Struggle to escape from the grasp in which she had been
seized, while the dull blue mark around her throat told only too plainly
how her death had been accomplished.
The bed bore every evidence of a wild and terrific struggle. The
coverings were tumbled in great confusion, one pillow had fallen upon
the floor, and the book which the murdered girl had been engaged in
reading when the grip of the assassin had seized her, was torn and
crumpled.
Eugenie was dead, and everything in the room bore mute evidence that
she had died horribly, and that she had struggled desperately to free

herself from the attack of her slayer.
In searching for evidence of the presence of the murderer, not a clew of
any kind could be found.
How he had gained access to the room where the danseuse was reading,
or how he had left it after consummating the horrible deed, were
mysteries which the keenest detectives failed to fathom
Theories were as plenty as mosquitoes in June, but there was positively
no proof in support of any of, them, and one by one they fell to the
ground and were abandoned as useless or absurd.
As a last resort, Delia Dent, the maid, fell under the ban of suspicion.
But only for a time. The most stupid of investigators could not long
believe her guilty of a crime so heinous, while, moreover, it was certain
that she was not possessed of the necessary physical strength to
accomplish the deed.
Neither had she the will power, for beyond her love for her dead
mistress, the woman was weak and yielding in her nature.
Delia Dent did not long survive her mistress.
The terrible shock caused by the discovery of Eugenie's dead body was
more than her frail strength could bear. She was prostrated nervously,
and after growing steadily worse for a period of four weeks, she died at
the hospital where she had been taken.
One theory, which