Carden, Crook Comedian/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III.
A PECULIAR ROBBERY.
MR. GORDON BURLINGTON stirred in his sleep, rolled over in the bed, fought against slumber like a man who half realizes that he is in danger, and finally opened his eyes.
A dazzling light was shining straight into them. Burlington gave an exclamation and sat up in the bed, blinking his eyes to keep out the glare. He could not understand what it meant. Something seemed to be wrong. And then a voice came to his ears from behind the bright light.
“Take it easy! And don’t speak a word, unless you want a bullet in your system where it’ll do the most harm!”
Burlington shuddered. His presence of mind was returning. He sensed, now, that there was an intruder in his chamber, and he felt a bit of fear. Gordon Burlington always had lived a what might be termed a “sheltered life.” He guessed that the intruder was a criminal, and Burlington knew nothing of criminals except what he had read. He had an idea that all law-breakers went around with revolver held ready, eager for an excuse to take a human life.
“What—what” Burlington managed to stammer.
“No talk at present, please! Put your hands up above your head and hold them there until I snap on the lights!”
Burlington did as he had been ordered. He heard the other man walk across the floor, there came a soft click, and the lights in the room flashed on,
Gordon Burlington saw a man standing near the wall by the light switch: The man was tall and slender, wore ordinary dark clothes, and had a black mask over his face. Burlington shuddered when he saw the mask. It confirmed his worst fears. The intruder was a criminal, and Burlington-was in grave danger.
“What—do you—want?” the man in the bed gasped.
“Take it easy, now! Get up and put on your dressing gown and slippers, and be quick about it. And remember that I am holding this revolver, and that I am a dead shot.”
Burlington shuddered again. He swung his legs out of the bed, and with trembling hands picked up the dressing gown and drew it on, then managed to get the slippers on his feet. He looked up at the other man.
“You are—er—a criminal?” he asked.
A chuckle came from behind the mask, and the full, even voice replied to him.
“I’m called that in certain circles. I call myself something else, but it isn’t necessary to mention it now.”
“And what—do you want?”
“I came here for valuables, naturally.”
“And how—how did you get into the house—and into this room?’ Gordon Burlington asked suddenly, remembering something. “I didn’t think that a criminal”
“Didn’t think anybody could get into your house at night, eh?” Joe Carden asked him. “I don’t suppose an ordinary sneak thief could, my dear sir, but I am not an ordinary sneak thief, I assure you. I am always well prepared when I start out on a certain enterprise. I did not attempt to raise one of your windows, sir, and so turn in an alarm that would have brought the police down on me.”
“Indeed?” Burlington gasped.
“I merely cut out a pane of glass, and when I got through I was careful not to touch the casement. You see, Mr. Burlington, I know practically all there is to know about your burglar alarms. And when I came up the stairs a few minutes ago, I was very particular to avoid stepping on the fourth step from the bottom. Nor did I touch the railing on the landing, just where nine men out of ten would touch it. Your alarms are excellent, sir, but useless when a man has knowledge of them.”
“And how did you discover these things?”
“Sorry, but I can’t answer that,” Joe Carden told him. “And I haven’t time to talk about it, either. I am here for business, not for a visit.”
“What do you wish?”
“You are going down the stairs with me, to your library, or whatever you call that big room where your safe is. You are going to walk one step ahead of me, and warn me regarding any traps you may have in the house. I think that I know all of them, but I’m not sure. And you are going to be very careful, for if you allow an alarm to be given I’m going to fill you full of lead. Do you understand?”
“I—I’ll be careful about the alarms,” Burlington promised.
“Very well; then we’ll start. I’ll snap out these lights and use the electric torch. If we should happen to run across a prowling servant, you’ll call out immediately that everything is all right. And do not forget the revolver I’m holding.”
Gordon Burlington shuddered again as he started toward the door. Joe Carden snapped out the lights and followed at the other man’s heels. Down the broad stairs they went, Burlington being careful to warn Carden, in whispers, about the alarms they passed on the way.
On the lower floor they marched along the hall, and Burlington opened the door of the library and walked inside.
“Do not step on that small rug,” he whispered. “There is an alarm plate beneath it.”
“Good thing you warned me!” Joe Carden replied. “If an alarm goes in, they may get me, but I’ll get you first—and don’t you forget it. Draw all the shades and snap on the lights!”
Gordon Burlington did as Carden commanded. He was growing more frightened every minute. Perspiration was standing out on his forehead, and he was trembling. He recalled all the stories he had ever read about the brutalities of criminals, and of wealthy men being found dead in their own homes, nobody knowing the assassin or the motive. Gordon Burlington was not ready to die, though he was close to sixty.
The shades drawn and the lights turned on, Burlington faced Joe Carden and trembled as he saw the latter’s eyes glittering through the mask.
“What—what do you want to steal?” Burlington asked. “If it is money you want”
“Thanks, but I don’t want any of your money,” Joe Carden said.
“Then”
“You have other things worth the taking, haven’t you? A certain Chinese vase, for instance”
“The vase!” Burlington gasped. “Surely you would not take my vase? I will give you money—much money.”
“I came for the Chinese vase, and I want nothing else,” Joe Carden declared.
“Do not take it, man!” Burlington begged. “I have been trying for several years to get it, and finally succeeded. A hundred men were after it. It isn’t only its value. Perhaps you would not understand. But I love that vase. I look at it by the hour. To me it is one of the greatest works of art in the world.”
“I know all about it.”
“Tl give you its value in other things. But please do not take the vase. And what good would it do you?” Burlington asked. ‘You would not dare offer it for sale. It is the only one of its kind in the world. Every collector would know it was stolen. You couldn’t sell it.”
“I’ll take care of that part of it. All you have to do is get me the vase,” Carden said. “And I don’t intend to stand here and talk about it, either. If you force me to use this revolver”
“Wait—wait!” Burlington implored. “Won’t you take money?”
“I came for the vase, and that is what I want!”
Gordon Burlington sighed and turned away. He walked across the room to a little cabinet. In the cabinet, on a shelf, was a vase that Joe Carden identified at once from the pictures he had seen.
“Be quick about it!” he urged. “And remember what I said about setting off alarms. I’ll fill you full of lead”
Burlington shuffled back to his desk and got a key from a drawer there. He unlocked the cabinet and took out the vase, and carried it carefully to the table in the middle of the room.
He sat down, the vase in his hands, and gloated over it. There were tears in his eyes as he looked up at Joe Carden again.
“I don’t suppose you understand what it means for a man to love things like that,” he said. “Let me ask you again to take something else, and leave me this vase. I can get you money, or jewels”
“No use in arguing with me,” Carden said. “I came for the vase, and that’s all. And I do know how you feel. I know that you are a genuine art lover. But I’ve got to have the vase.”
“You can’t sell it.”
“Don’t worry about that. And let’s have an end of this talk. Wrap that vase up in a piece of newspaper.”
“That precious vase in newspaper?”
“That’s the way I want it,” Carden declared. “I don’t care to advertise what I’m carrying around. And keep on remembering what I said would happen to you if you try any tricks on me. I may mention that my assistant is standing just outside the window through which I entered, in case he is needed.”
Burlington started to beg and plead again, but Joe Carden would not listen. The art lover wrapped his precious vase in newspaper, and Carden took the package from him.
“Now you’ll walk with me to the window, and there I’ll tell you something interesting,” Joe Carden said. “Snap off the lights, and we’ll use my torch again.”
Burlington was almost sobbing now, and the crook comedian knew that he had nothing to fear from him. But he wanted to make sure.
“In case you should touch anything that will send in an alarm, the vase will be gone forever,” he said. “If I am disturbed while I am here, I shall simply smash this vase into a thousand pieces.”
“You’d smash the precious vase—the only one of its kind in the world?” Burlington gasped.
“Into a thousand and one bits, if I am bothered. So don’t set off any alarms.”
“I’ll not! I’ll not attempt it!” Burlington said. “Though I cannot have my vase, I do not want it destroyed and lost to the world. But, if you’d let me give you money or jewels—things that you could sell”
“We’ve had enough of that talk! Come along!”
Once more they went through the hall, this time to the front of the house, and into a room to one side. There was the window that had been cut cut, the shade pulled down and fastened. Joe Carden stopped just in front of it, and hissed peculiarly. On the outside, Nifty Burke answered.
Then Carden turned and stepped close to Gordon Burlington again.
“I’ll make a deal with you, Mr. Burlington,” he said. “It would be natural if you telephoned the police as soon as I went away. You may, if you wish. But, if you do not report this affair to the police for three days, I’ll return your vase.”
“Return it!” Burlington cried. “What do you mean?”
“Just that. Forget this incident for three days, and on the third night from now I’ll come back with your vase, else telephone you and return it in some other manner. I want your vase for only a few days, understand.”
“But”
“No argument! And I’ll tell you nothing more! In fact, I insist on this deal. I need the vase for a time, but you are a genuine collector and should not be robbed of it for always. Keep this robbery to yourself, and I’ll return the vase as soon as possible—say three nights from now. Telephone the police—and you’ll never see the vase again, nor will any other man. For I’ll smash it to bits and throw the bits into some trash can”
“No—no! I’ll do as you say!” Burlington gasped.
“Very well. I know you are a man of your word. Go back to bed, now, and don’t worry about your vase.”
“You’ll take good care of it?”
“You may be sure of that. And I’ll keep my word, too. I may be what you call a criminal, but I always keep my word.”
Joe Carden extinguished his torch, raised the shade slowly and carefully, and got through the window. Nifty Burke was waiting for him in the darkness close to the side of the house.
“Get it?” he asked.
“Easy!” Joe Carden declared. “Everything running along according to plans. Now we’ll get down to the Razelus shop and begin to collect. This is going to be some stunt, Nifty.”
“You said it, boss.”
“And, in the end, nobody will be stung except dirty thieves. I wouldn’t steal from a regular crook, of course, Nifty. But take a man like Razelus, who pretends to be an honest citizen and is not—I certainly do love to sting a man like that. And Roger Belcher, with his fortune and his big house, pretending to be one of the big men of the city, yet as crooked as you can find them—I certainly do love to sting that sort of man, too. An honest crook comes out in the open—admits he is a crook and sticks to it. But men like Razelus and Roger Belcher”
“Serve ’em right!” said Burke.