The Mansion of Mystery | Page 2

Chester K. Steele
on important business."
The man at the desk drew a long breath and looked up from a slip of
paper which he had been studying through a microscope. "Raymond
Case, eh? All right, Letty, show him in."
In another moment the visitor was in the private office. Adam Adams
arose and gave him a warm handshake.
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Case," he said cordially. "I knew your late
father quite well--a fine man--a very fine man, indeed. Have a chair and
make yourself at home." He noted that his visitor was much agitated
and flushed. "Sit down by the window; there is a nice breeze there from
across the park."
"Mr. Adams, I would like to see you in private," returned the young
man, as he took a seat and mopped his forehead with his handkerchief.
"Very well," and the office door was carefully closed. Then came a
brief pause, during which Raymond Case cleared his throat several
times.
"Mr. Adams, you do not know much about me, but I know a great deal
about you," he commenced. "Three or four years ago you recovered
some stolen mining shares for my father, and last year you cleared up
the Sandford mystery, after the police and the other detectives had
failed completely."
Adam Adams bowed. He rarely spoke unless there was occasion for it.
"May I ask if you are now at liberty?" pursued the young man.
"At liberty? Bless you, no! I have half a dozen cases on hand. Two here
in the city--one over in New Jersey--one in Yonkers, and--"
"But you will undertake a case for me, if I pay you well for it, won't

you?" interrupted the young man eagerly. "Don't say no--please don't!"
And there was a ring of agony in his speech. "I am depending upon
you!"
The detective paused before replying, and looked the young man over
with care. The clean-cut features showed not a sign of dissipation, and
the expression was honesty itself. Certainly the young man had not
gotten into trouble on his own account.
"I should want to know something about the case before I promised to
do anything."
"Certainly--of course--" The young man cleared his throat again.
"You can tell me what the trouble is and if I decline to take the case I
will give you my promise not to say a word to any outsider of what has
passed between us."
"Oh, I know I can trust you, Mr. Adams, otherwise I should not have
called here. My father said you were the squarest man he had ever dealt
with. I came to see you about the Langmore affair."
"You mean the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Barry Langmore at Beechwood
Hill?"
"Yes."
Adam Adams was surprised, although he did not show it. What had this
rich young man, who lived in Orange, New Jersey, and did business in
Wall Street, to do with that double tragedy which had so shocked the
community?
"I presume you know some of the particulars of the sad affair,"
resumed Raymond Case. "The newspapers have been full of it."
"I know that the pair were found murdered. I have not looked into
details, being so busy with other matters."
"It was an outrageous deed, Mr. Adams!" cried the young man,

jumping up and beginning to pace the floor. "One of the foulest of
which I have ever heard."
"A murder is always foul, no matter under what circumstances it is
committed. What do you wish me to do?"
"Find the murderer."
"That may not be easy. Are not other detectives already working on the
case?"
"Yes, but they are only local men and not worth their salt."
"They may be doing all that can be done. It is a mistake to presume that
every mystery of this sort can be solved. Here in New York men go to
their death every year and nobody ever finds out how, or by what
hand."
"But the local men simply jump at conclusions. They are a set of blind
fools, and--" The young man stopped short.
Adam Adams smiled faintly. He knew something of the bungling work
done by detectives of small caliber. Had he not himself once saved a
poor Jew from hanging after several country detectives had apparently
proved the fellow guilty? And had not those same sleuths of the law
been angry at him ever since?
"Excuse me, Mr. Case, but how is it that you take an interest in this
affair?" he asked. "Are you related to the Langmores in any way?"
"I am not." The young man began to blush. "Is it necessary that I tell
you why?" he stammered.
"It is not necessary for you to tell me anything," responded the
detective dryly.
"I didn't mean to say--"
"Let me
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