The Crime of the French Café and Other Stories | Page 6

his guilt.
"By the way," said the suspect, as they descended the stairs, "I forgot to
give you my card."
He handed it to Nick as he spoke, and the detective read this:
MR. JOHN JONES.
ALLEN, MORSE & JONES, Electrical Fixtures, The "Sunlight" Lamp.
"What did I tell you!" exclaimed Gaspard, who was looking over Nick's
shoulder. "It is the name that was on the register. He is the man."
But Nick took a different view. He was of the opinion that Mr. Jones
had presented very strong evidence of his complete innocence.
Anybody else might have signed himself "John Jones," but the real
John Jones, never!
It would be mighty hard to convince a jury that a man meditating
murder had recorded his correct name for the benefit of the police.
The coincidence was certainly astonishing, but it was in Jones' favor.
They walked over to the office of Allen, Morse & Jones.
Mr. Allen was there.
"Good-morning, Mr. Allen," said Jones, "My name has got me into
trouble again."
"How is that?"
"Did you read about that French restaurant murder last night?"
"Well, I glanced at the story in one of the papers."

"This Frenchman here is a waiter in the place. He saw me in an
elevated train just now, and told this other man, who is a detective, that
I was the party who took that woman to the restaurant.
"That was bad enough, but when they found out what my name was,
they convicted me immediately. It appears that the visitor to the
restaurant signed the very uncommon name of John Jones on the
books."
"Why, what the devil!" exclaimed Allen, looking wrathfully at poor
Gaspard, who was shaking in his shoes. "Don't you know that this is a
serious matter? What do you mean?"
"He is the man," cried Gaspard. "If I were dying, I would swear with
my last breath that he is the man."
"But who's the woman?" asked Allen, turning to Nick. "And what has
she to do with my partner?"
"That I cannot say," replied Nick; "she has not been identified."
"Then you have absolutely nothing to go upon except this fellow's
word?"
"Nothing."
"Why, this is nonsense."
"Perhaps so," said Nick, "but you will admit that I would be false to my
duty if I did not make an investigation."
"Investigate all you wish," laughed Jones. "But don't bother me any
more than you have to. This is my busy day."
"I'm going right away," said Nick. "All I want of you is that you will
give me your address, and meet me at your home in the latter part of
the afternoon."
"Very well," said Jones, and he scribbled on a piece of paper. "I'll be

there at half-past four o'clock."
Nick thanked Mr. Jones for his courtesy, and immediately withdrew.
But he did not go far.
In a convenient doorway he wrote a note to Chick, on the back of the
scrap of paper which Jones had given him, and sealed it in an envelope.
Then he sent Gaspard with it to Chick, who was on the lookout in the
undertaker's room, where the body lay.
Having dispatched this message, Nick changed his disguise and kept
watch over the establishment of Allen, Morse & Jones.
Nothing of importance happened until a little after noon, when a reply
came from Chick.
Translated from the detective's cipher, it read as follows:
"The address is that of a good flat house. Jones lives there with his
wife.
"They have been there only about two months. Nobody in the house
knows anything about them.
"They had one servant, who was taken sick about two weeks ago and
carried to a hospital, where she died.
"Since then they have lived absolutely alone. There was nobody in the
house who had seen Mrs. Jones' face. She always wore a heavy veil.
"The only description I could get tallied with that of the body. The
principal point was the hair.
"I have just found a woman who saw Mr. and Mrs. Jones go out
yesterday afternoon. She remembers Mrs. Jones' dress. The description
agrees with that found on the corpse.
"Jones carried an alligator-skin traveling-bag. Nobody saw either of

them come back to the house, but Jones evidently slept there.
"I shall take the woman who saw them go out to the room where the
body lies.
"Will send Patsy down with the result of this effort at identification. I
believe it will show the woman to be Mrs. Jones. I send this that you
may have warning."
"CHICK."
Nick read this note and then glanced across the street toward the office
of Allen, Morse & Jones.
Through the window he could see Jones calmly writing a letter. Could
it be possible that this man was