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

      “I can see just how it happened. Pat angered Jarvis with the words that Klein heard. Jarvis rushed upon him, knocked him down with the spade, and then beat him like a maniac in his rage.”

      “And then buried him, eh?” said Nick, in a doubtful voice.

      Chick looked inquiringly at his chief. He had never seen Nick conduct a case in that way before.

      Instead of taking the lead in the investigation, the great detective seemed to wait for suggestions. After his first glance at the body, he had stood irresolute, as if he could not make up his mind about the value of the evidence.

      This conduct of his chief interested Chick deeply.

      “Watch Nick Carter,” he said to himself, “and you’ll always be learning something.”

      “Of course he didn’t bury him then,” Deever replied to Nick’s question. “Haskell saw him digging the grave after midnight.”

      “Where do you suppose your brother’s body was in the meantime?” asked Nick.

      “Hidden in the garden somewhere.”

      Nick shook his head.

      “There is no place in the garden where it could have been hidden. I have searched the place thoroughly.”

      “He may have taken it into the hospital; into his laboratory, perhaps.”

      “That can’t be,” said Nick. “You remember that Burns met the doctor coming in from the garden. If he had already brought in the body he wouldn’t have come out again. On the other hand, the body couldn’t have been in the garden, or Burns would have seen it. He looked all around for your brother.”

      For the first time Deever looked puzzled. He hesitated a long time before he replied. Then he said:

      “Jarvis must have thrown Pat’s body over the wall. He must have hidden it among the bushes in the direction of the river.”

      “Yes,” Nick rejoined; “that seems probable.”

      “Well,” cried Deever, “will you make the arrest?”

      “I think not. The evidence does not seem to warrant it.”

      Deever threw up his hands in utter amazement.

      “Not sufficient!” he exclaimed. “What remains to be proved?”

      “I should like some evidence bearing on the question where the body was hidden during the evening, and how it was got back to the garden.”

      “You don’t mean to say that you will wait for that before taking this man into custody?”

      “Yes,” said Nick, slowly; “I shall wait for that.”

      “But, meanwhile, how will you guard against his escape?”

      “I will take him back to the hospital, where one of my assistants is waiting. I will put him in charge of that officer, who will remain with him until I feel justified in taking him to headquarters.”

      “Then you practically put him under arrest,” said Deever, with evident satisfaction.

      “Yes; but it will not be known except to us who are here. I expect your friends to be silent for the present.”

      “I’ll answer for them,” said Deever. “I know them all well, except that man—where is that man?”

      He looked around for Chick, but that individual had disappeared. He had caught a glance from Nick when the latter had spoken of his assistant at the hospital, and had immediately slipped away under the shadow of the trees.

      “That fellow will give it away,” cried Deever. “That’s what he sneaked for. He’ll sell the news to the papers.”

      “If he does we can’t help it,” said Nick. “And as for you, I judge that you would not be sorry if he did.”

      “You are right,” said Deever, looking grimly at Dr. Jarvis, “the sooner this murderer is held up before the public the better I’ll be pleased.”

      “I shall be sorry,” said Nick, “and yet perhaps it will not make much difference. In the meantime we will do what we can to keep the secret on our part.”

      Deever chuckled. It was evident that he regarded the secret as already out, and that he was entirely satisfied.

      “Now come with me,” said Nick to Jarvis, “and you others wait for me here.”

      He led the doctor to his room in the hospital, where, of course, they found Chick, in a different disguise, waiting for them.

      Jarvis acted like a man in a trance, he was so thoroughly overpowered by the horror of his situation. In his room, he seemed to forget the presence of the two detectives. He flung himself down upon his cot, and appeared to sink almost instantly into a stupor.

      After a word or two with Chick, Nick made his way back to the little group around the dead body.

      “Get a carriage up to the wall,” said Nick, “and remove the corpse to your house. I will see a coroner, and get the necessary permit. I will be answerable for the removal in advance of the permit.”

      In spite of Deever’s distrust of Nick, the great detective’s manner, when he spoke with decision, was such as to secure instant obedience.

      The body was carried to the wall; two men were left to guard it, while Deever, with Klein, went for the carriage.

      Nick separated himself from the party. He did not go to see a coroner, however. He went to Lawrence Deever’s house, which he entered secretly, and searched from top to bottom, but without finding anything of interest.

      Then he went to his own house, where he waked Patsy.

      “Go to Lawrence Deever’s country-house near Nyack,” he said to his youthful assistant. “Watch it, and see that no man leaves it.”

      Morning was breaking as Nick secretly entered St. Agnes’ Hospital, and made his way to Dr. Jarvis’ room.

      He pushed the door open softly, believing that the doctor would be still asleep, and Chick on guard.

      The room was empty.

      Nick was at first amazed, and then he reflected that it was quite possible that some disclosure of the prisoner had led Chick to accompany him in search of evidence.

      He passed out into the laboratory. It was darker at this hour of dawn than at midnight with the moonlight in it.

      The sheeted figure still lay upon the slab. Was it a body obtained in the usual way, under the sanction of the law, or had it a criminal history? Nobody knew better than Nick the secrets that may lurk in the dissecting-room.

      With such thoughts, he paused a moment beside the body. He was about to lift the sheet in order to satisfy some doubts which still lingered in his mind when he was attracted by a slight noise in the cellar.

      He quickly stepped to the head of the stairs. Certainly there was some person below.

      Nick cautiously descended the steps. The electric lights were not shining, but the furnace sent up a glow in which the surrounding objects were dimly visible.

      The first of these objects to command Nick’s attention was no other than the white face of Dr. Jarvis bending over the furnace.

      He had removed some portion of the arch above the raging fire, and just as Nick’s eye fell upon him, he put a human arm into the white flame.

      In that fierce heat it was almost instantly consumed, and only the faintest smell of burning flesh escaped into the cellar.

      The corpse from which the arm had been taken lay upon the floor. Nick could not see it plainly, but his heart leaped wildly.

      There