Guy Garrick Read online

  CHAPTER III

  THE MYSTERY OF THE THICKET

  "You know my ideas on modern detective work," Garrick remarked to me,reflectively, when they had gone.

  I nodded assent, for we had often discussed the subject.

  "There must be something new in order to catch criminals, nowadays," hepursued. "The old methods are all right--as far as they go. But whilewe have been using them, criminals have kept pace with modern science."

  I had met Garrick several months before on the return trip from abroad,and had found in him a companion spirit.

  For some years I had been editing a paper which I called "TheScientific World," and it had taxed my health to the point where myphysician had told me that I must rest, or at least combine pleasurewith business. Thus I had taken the voyage across the ocean to attendthe International Electrical Congress in London, and had unexpectedlybeen thrown in with Guy Garrick, who later seemed destined to play suchan important part in my life.

  Garrick was a detective, young, university bred, of good family, alert,and an interesting personality to me. He had travelled much, especiallyin London, Paris, Berlin, and Vienna, where he had studied the amazinggrowth abroad of the new criminal science.

  Already I knew something, by hearsay, of the men he had seen, Gross,Lacassagne, Reiss, and the now immortal Bertillon. Our acquaintance,therefore, had rapidly ripened into friendship, and on our return, Ihad formed a habit of dropping in frequently on him of an evening, as Ihad this night, to smoke a pipe or two and talk over matters of commoninterest in his profession.

  He had paused a moment in what he was saying, but now resumed, lessreflectively, "Fortunately, Marshall, the crime-hunters have gone aheadfaster than the criminals. Now, it's my job to catch criminals. Yours,it seems to me, is to show people how they can never hope to beat themodern scientific detective. Let's strike a bargain."

  I was flattered by his confidence. More than that, the idea appealed tome, in fact was exactly in line with some plans I had already made forthe "World," since our first acquaintance.

  And so it came about that the case brought to him by McBirney and youngWarrington was responsible for clearing our ideas as to our mutualrelationship and thus forming this strange partnership that has existedever since.

  "Tom," he remarked, as we left the office quite late, after he hadarranged affairs as if he expected to have no time to devote to hisother work for several days, "come along and stay with me at myapartment to-night. It's too late to do anything now until to-morrow."

  I accepted his invitation without demur, for I knew that he meant it,but I doubt whether he slept much during the night. Certainly he was upand about early enough the following morning.

  "That's curious," I heard him remark, as he ran his eye hastily overthe first page of the morning paper, "but I rather expected somethingof the sort. Read that in the first column, Tom."

  The story that he indicated had all the marks of having been droppedinto place at the last moment as the city edition went to press in thesmall hours of the night.

  It was headed:

  GIRL'S BODY FOUND IN THICKET

  The despatch was from a little town in New Jersey, and, when I saw thedate line, it at once suggested to me, as it had to Guy, that this wasin the vicinity that must have been traversed in order to reach thepoint from which had come the report of the bloody car that had seemedto tally with the description of that which Warrington had lost. Itread:

  "Hidden in the underbrush, not ten feet from one of the most travelledautomobile roads in this section of the state, the body of a murderedgirl was discovered late yesterday afternoon by a gang of Italianlabourers employed on an estate nearby.

  "Suspicion was at first directed by the local authorities at thelabourers, but the manner of the finding of the body renders itimprobable. Most of them are housed in some rough shacks up the roadtoward Tuxedo and were able to prove themselves of good character.Indeed, the trampled condition of the thicket plainly indicates,according to the local coroner, that the girl was brought there,probably already dead, in an automobile which drew up off the road asfar as possible. The body then must have been thrown where it would bescreened from sight by the thick growth of trees and shrubbery.

  "There was only one wound, in the chest. It is, however, a mostpeculiar wound, and shows that a terrific force must have been exertedin order to make it. A blow could hardly have accomplished it, sojagged were its edges, and if the girl had been struck by a passinghigh-speed car, as was at first suggested, there is no way to accountfor the entire lack of other wounds which must naturally have beeninflicted by such an accident.

  "Neither is the wound exactly like a pistol or gunshot wound, for,curiously enough, there was no mark showing the exit of a bullet, norwas any bullet found in the body after the most careful examination.The local authorities are completely mystified at the possible problemsthat may arise out of the case, especially as to the manner in whichthe unfortunate girl met her death.

  "Until a late hour the body, which is of a girl perhaps twenty-three orfour, of medium height, fair, good looking, and stylishly dressed, wasstill unidentified. She was unknown in this part of the country."

  Almost before I had finished reading, Garrick had his hat and coat onand had shoved into his pocket a little detective camera.

  "Strange about the bullet," I ruminated. "I wonder who she can be?"

  "Very strange," agreed Garrick, urging me on. "I think we ought toinvestigate the case."

  As we hurried along to a restaurant for a bite of breakfast, heremarked, "The circumstances of the thing, coming so closely after thereport about Warrington's car, are very suspicious--very. I feel surethat we shall find some connection between the two affairs."

  Accordingly, we caught an early train and at the nearest railroadstation to the town mentioned in the despatch engaged a hackman whoknew the coroner, a local doctor.

  The coroner was glad to assist us, though we were careful not to tellhim too much of our own connection with the case. On the way over tothe village undertaker's where the body had been moved, he volunteeredthe information that the New York police, whom he had notifiedimmediately, had already sent a man up there, who had taken adescription of the girl and finger prints, but had not, so far atleast, succeeded in identifying the girl, at any rate on any of thelists of those reported missing.

  "You see," remarked Garrick to me, "that is where the police have us ata disadvantage. They have organization on their side. A good manydetectives make the mistake of antagonizing the police. But if you wantresults, that's fatal."

  "Yes," I agreed, "it's impossible, just as it is to antagonize thenewspapers."

  "Exactly," returned Garrick. "My idea of the thing, Marshall, is that Ishould work with, not against, the regular detectives. They are allright, in fact indispensable. Half the secret of success nowadays isefficiency and organization. What I do believe is that organizationplus science is what is necessary."

  The local undertaking establishment was rather poorly equipped to takethe place of a morgue and the authorities were making preparations tomove the body to the nearest large city pending the disposal of thecase. Local detectives had set to work, but so far had turned upnothing, not even the report which we had already received fromMcBirney regarding the blood-stained car that resembled Warrington's.

  We arrived with the coroner fortunately just before the removal of thebody to the city and by his courtesy were able to see it without anytrouble.

  Death, and especially violent death, are at best grewsome subjects, butwhen to that are added the sordid surroundings of a countryundertaker's and the fact that the victim is a woman, it all becomesdoubly tragic.

  She was a rather flashily dressed girl, but remarkably good looking, inspite of the rouge and powder which had long since spoiled what mightotherwise have been a clear and fine complexion. The roots of her hairshowed plainly that it had been bleached.

  Garrick examined the body closely, and more especially the jagge
d woundin the breast. I bent over also. It seemed utterly inexplicable. Therewas, he soon discovered, a sort of greasy, oleaginous deposit in theclotted blood of the huge cavity in the flesh. It interested him, andhe studied it carefully for a long time, without saying a word.

  "Some have said she was wounded by some kind of blunt instrument," putin the coroner. "Others that she was struck by a car. But it's myopinion that she was killed by a rifle bullet of some kind, althoughwhat could have become of the bullet is beyond me. I've probed for it,but it isn't there."

  Garrick finished his minute examination of the wound without passingany comment on it of his own.

  "Now, if you will be kind enough to take us around to the place wherethe body was discovered," he concluded, "I think we shall not trespasson your time further."

  In his own car, the coroner drove us up the road in the direction ofthe New York state boundary to the spot where the body had been found.It was a fine, well-oiled road and I noticed the number and highquality of the cars which passed us.

  When we arrived at the spot where the body of the unfortunate girl hadbeen discovered, Garrick began a minute search. I do not think for amoment that he expected to find any weapon, or even the trace of one.It seemed hopeless also to attempt to pick out any of the footprints.The earth was soft and even muddy, but so many feet had trodden it downsince the first alarm had been given that it would have been impossibleto extricate one set of footprints from another, much less to tellwhether any of them had been made by the perpetrators of the crime.

  Still, there seemed to be something in the mud, just off the side ofthe road, that did interest Garrick. Very carefully, so as not todestroy anything himself which more careless searchers might have left,he began a minute study of the ground.

  Apparently he was rewarded, for, although he said nothing, he took ahasty glance at the direction of the sun, up-ended the camera he hadbrought, and began to photograph the ground itself, or rather somecurious marks on it which I could barely distinguish.

  The coroner and I looked on without saying a word. He, at least, I amsure, thought that Garrick had suddenly taken leave of his senses.

  That concluded Garrick's investigation, and, after thanking thecoroner, who had gone out of his way to accommodate us, we started backto town.

  "Well," I remarked, as we settled ourselves for the tedious ride intothe city in the suburban train, "we don't seem to have added much tothe sum of human knowledge by this trip."

  "Oh, yes, we have," he returned, almost cheerfully, patting the blackcamera which he had folded and slipped into his pocket. "We'll justpreserve the records which I have here. Did you notice what it was thatI photographed?"

  "I saw something," I replied, "but I couldn't tell you what it was."

  "Well," he explained slowly as I opened my eyes wide in amazement atthe minuteness of his researches, "those were the marks of the tire ofan automobile that had been run up into the bushes from the road. Youknow every automobile tire leaves its own distinctive mark, its thumbprint, as it were. When I have developed my films, you will see thatthe marks that have been left there are precisely like those left bythe make of tires used on Warrington's car, according to theadvertisement sent out by McBirney. Of course, that mere fact alonedoesn't prove anything. Many cars may use that make of tires. Still, itis an interesting coincidence, and if the make had been different Ishould not feel half so encouraged about going ahead with this clew. Wecan't say anything definite, however, until I can compare the actualmarks made by the tires on the stolen car with these marks which I havephotographed and preserved."

  If any one other than Garrick had conceived such a notion as the "thumbprint" of an automobile tire, I might possibly have ventured to doubtit. As it was it gave food enough for thought to last the remainder ofthe journey back to town.