The Photographer's Evidence: Clever but Crooked
9781465646262
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
“Mr. Carter, can I trust you?” It was in the great detective’s own house that this question was asked. “Well,” was Nick’s quiet answer, “if you had any doubt on that matter, why did you come to me?” His caller looked nervously at the floor. “There’s no use in talking to me,” Nick went on, “unless you do trust me. A detective can do nothing for a client who does not give him his confidence absolutely.” “Of course,” the other assented; “I did not mean to offend you.” “You haven’t offended me.” “I am so disturbed by it, you see. So much depends on secrecy. It is so terribly important that I found itdifficult to make up my mind to consult anybody on the matter; and yet I know by your reputation that you are a perfectly trustworthy man. There is nobody in the States more so.” While the man was speaking Nick was studying him. In fact, the detective had been doing that from the moment the man entered. He was apparently about fifty years old; a well-dressed, prosperous-looking man, who might be a merchant, or a lawyer, or a banker. Nick did no guessing. The man might be anything else. He had given his name as George Snell, but he had not sent in his card, and he had not said where he belonged. Word had simply been taken to Nick by a servant that a Mr. George Snell wanted to see him on “most important business.” “He isn’t an American,” was Nick’s only conclusion from what had been said thus far. “An American would not have spoken simply of ‘the States,’ as he did.” There had been a pause after the caller’s last remarks. “Well,” he exclaimed then, “I’m not coming more than two-thirds of the way across the continent for nothing. I set out to consult you, and I will do so.” “That’s better,” said the detective; and, willing to help him tell his story, he asked: “What kind of a case is it, Mr. Snell?” “I suppose you’d call it kidnaping; but there’s robbery combined with it, and—and also—also blackmail.” Mr. Snell hesitated and stammered a little at the end of this speech. Nick merely nodded. “To begin with,” continued Mr. Snell, “I come from Wenonah. You may not be aware that the Government of England has made a large section of Western British America into a province and called it Wenonah.” “Yes,” said Nick, “I am aware of that.” “You are a well-informed man. Few Americans would know the fact, for the province is so young that it isn’t down on the maps yet. You know, also, I suppose, that the capital of the province is a town called Manchester?” “Yes.” “That is where the crime was committed. It happened a month ago. The governor of the province, Bradley is his name, gave a party at his house. All the prominent families of the town and country around attended. There was dancing till a late hour.
