DETECTIVE NICK CARTER'S CASES - 7 Book Collection: The Great Spy System, The Mystery of St. Agnes' Hospital, The Crime of the French Café, With Links of Steel, Nick Carter's Ghost Story…. John R. Coryell

her husband was.

      “Hammond has told how she listened to the voices, and how she got rid of him.

      “What followed can be easily understood. She got into room A. She drew her pistol and attempted to shoot either her faithless husband or his companion.

      “Jones disarmed her and shot her with her own pistol.

      “Then he carried her into room B, and put her in that chair.

      “At that moment Corbut entered, for the door of room B was not locked.

      “In some way they bribed him to keep silence. They sent him into room A, where he locked the connecting door on that side.

      “Jones fastened it on the side of room B and fled. It was then that Gaspard saw him coming out of room B. And that’s what mixed the case so badly.

      “It gave us the wrong arrangement of men in those rooms. That was the only reason why I ever doubted Jones’ guilt. I was convinced that the man who had brought the woman to the house was not the man who had shot her.

      “You did not know, Mr. Hammond, that when you told me, in my house, that you were the man in room A, that you practically confessed to being the murderer.”

      At these words, Hammond gave a dry and painful gasp. He saw what an escape he had had.

      “As to the two women,” Nick continued, “it is easy to read the secret.

      “Jones had two wives. The real wife, now dead, lived in the flat the address of which Jones gave me. This woman lived in the Fifty-eighth street flat, where Corbut was murdered.

      “Jones divided his time between them. He really loved this one and wished to be rid of the other.

      “His true wife surprised his secret at last, and it led her to her death.

      “That night after the murder the plan was formed by which this woman was to personate the other. The striking similarity in the hair, which was the most conspicuous beauty of each, suggested the plot.

      “Perhaps Jones had thought of such a thing long before. That may have led him to keep his real wife practically unknown in this city, while he was frequently seen with this woman.

      “As to the dresses, this woman, who is a very clever dressmaker, as I am told, doubtless had time to copy the other’s costume in the night and the day following the crime.

      “She did most of the work in Albany, where she went as soon as possible. Then wearing the duplicate dress, she went to her friends in Maysville, and afterward came here.

      “Is it all plain now?”

      “It is clear as a bell, Mr. Carter,” said the superintendent.

      “Wait a moment!”

      It was the woman’s voice. She spoke calmly, and looked straight into Nick’s face.

      “You have made one grave error,” she said. “It was not John who killed that woman; it was I.

      “She tried to shoot him, and I wrenched the pistol from her hand. I shot her dead.

      “The plot was all mine. It was I who bribed Corbut. It was I who killed him.

      “John brought him to our flat. I sent my husband away, and when he returned a few minutes later, Corbut was dead. John had no guilty hand in either crime.

      “He fainted at the sight of Corbut’s body. When he came to himself, the body was no longer to be seen. I had put it into the trunks. It was I who afterward sent them to Gaspard.

      “These crimes I committed for love of this man. I had been his wife for five years, and for three of them I did not know he had another.

      “And when I found it out, I did not do as this woman did. I simply loved him more.

      “I love him still, and because I love him I tell the truth to save him. Yes, more, because I love him, I will shed more blood. He shall not see me imprisoned or condemned to death. I will spare him that pain.”

      As she spoke, she drew a little ornamental dagger from her dress. It was a mere toy. Nobody would have supposed it to be a deadly weapon.

      However, Nick sprang forward to prevent her from doing herself an injury.

      He was too late. She plunged the dagger into her brain.

      So firm and true was her hand that the slender blade pierced the thin bone of her right temple, and was driven in until the hilt made an impression on her white skin like a seal upon wax.

      Jones uttered a scream of horror at this sight. He, too, had attempted to stay her hand, but had been too slow.

      As she fell, he plucked the dagger from the wound and attempted to drive it into his own brain. But Nick caught his arm and wrested the blood-stained weapon from him.

      Deprived thus of the means for ending his life, Jones fell upon his knees before the woman and covered her hands with kisses, nor could he be taken away, until the hands were chilled by death.

      And that was the strange end of the affair. The woman’s confession, though it may not have been true, will doubtless save Jones’ life.

      At the time of this writing the district attorney is of the opinion that a plea of murder in the second degree had better be accepted. There is no indication that the prisoner will fight the case.

      So Jones will spend his days in prison, though he will escape the death chair.

      A word should be added about the witness, Gaspard. He has been cleared of all reproach, and has sailed for France with his bride.

      NICK CARTER’S GHOST STORY

       Table of Contents

       Chapter I. The Vanishing Thief

       Chapter II. Nick Is Boldly Challenged

       Chapter III. How Nick Found the Jewels

       Chapter IV. Millie Stevens

       Chapter V. Colonel Richmond’s Night Adventure

       Chapter VI. A Round-Up of Spook-Artists

       Chapter VII. A Really Competent Ghost

       Chapter VIII. Patsy’s Story and the Test Proposed

       Chapter IX. The Diamond Clasp

       Chapter X. Some Clever Tricks Explained

      Chapter I.

       The Vanishing Thief

       Table of Contents

      Nick Carter’s friends often ask him whether, in the course of his remarkable experience as a detective, he has ever encountered anything which could not have been the work of human hands.

      Few