The Story of the chief of Police.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 94, 22 April 1911, Page 10

The Story of the chief of Police.

By WILLIAM LB QUEUX. [All Eights Reserved.]

Ojms is truly a life crammed full of i adventure. I had been despatched on a secret mission -to N?ce, the town of violets, mimosa and maxrons glaces. Carnival was at its height, and as on that sonny February afternoon I sat with my friend Paolo Ferri, the worldfamous Chief of Italian Secret Police, sipping a mazagran *>ri, tbe pavement- before the Cafe de la Begence, a gay laughter-loving world surged up and down; the iree-lined Avenue de la Gare. My •companion, a refined, gentlemanlyloojang, weU-dreesed man with a pair ,of *" shwnsid brown 1 eyes ' and dark brown beard, Tmoked Ms favourite*; Tascano' cigar and smiled at two laughing girls of Jfiiß people wnoj^in" carnival dress as pierrettes, -had tripped past arm-in-arm on ..their way to the Battle of Flowers -which was about to open down the palmlined. Promenade dcs, Anglais, "beside* the bliie-iideless sea. " ' "" ' ' Firri. of course, fcnew my position in the Secret^ Service, just- as I his.M<k&- than onc&'Sn .'the co"urse-bf enquiries had we assisted each other. Though I had not told him the reason I -waor_in Nice, just as he himself had been eilest regarding the motive of his own .presence there, yet I had been despatched from "Whitehall at almost a snojnent's notice with instructions to endeavour to solve- a- mo&t- .obscure •■ and s delicate problem.' " * ■ «•> As Henry HaQierleigh, author and traveller, I wandered -over the,-" Continent, careless, ecratic, and irresjon-^ eible, in order to "pick up" material -for' my books, , therefore my true calling as secret service agent was never suspected. The telegrams I so constantly Bent to my devoted brother in London .usually had a pre-arranged meaning, and were handed' on by. special messenger -to the' calm, clever, discriminating chief of »he confidential Jiranch of .the. sexyice< „ "Presently, draining our-glasses, -we -strolled acrose the pretty Place ■ "Mesiena — wh'eiein stood the giant enthroned efngy of King Carnival — until, we reached the grand stand erected. - in the- P-romenade. —i „.. w~-~<~^-j- .--.-».<. ->»i. TfiK.faiifim^l: .JBatQe;or;;S;i«^4rB J h>a. already commenced. The; occupants <rf^. the>doni>le line of decorated* 'carriagejffr slowly passing ..other werejengaged' in .a'Jaattle 3»yal with' _btmch|S>of violets,., carpations, ( and other spring flowers,, *ha!e ac, they passed "t-He grand stand -wet alfitfjoinedin the fray. The gay'^ofld £ad; lunrJEiot ;<m that brillians after"-/ £oe% w jrs - -r. Ig^t!*fo*Tvnole; -milee tiierft^were^rows^ of iS^gSSig^?? acefi. ! TEs"snn!,^Brajsrb*iigliftiJ ahdtisi^~-'tne~'Be£-&' 'biSKa-nt blue; 'and theg^-ladffli^with 'the sweet fEagr3hce - ,of : pffl3fto£cs *&nu -^dolete. -^ - «&<— i SiaiMiSigT-'fbgßtKec, we7,h&T'beerir fori Bom^i^m«Ct^Ra^idng. the^cpntmuons,.pr.ct-i cession of'beauilfuUy decorated equipages /when of a sodden, seated in a victoria beneath... a caaiopy of .roses, the .whole Carriage "hidden by the blossoms, tp the' Epokes of the wheels, came art extremely iraidsomey-daik-haTred girl in a cream gown of the- latest mode with a big hat to match. She was not throwing flowers, but held up her sunshade-in order to ward off th© many bunches of L vioifits flung at her. • .2" '. Her appearance waa the signal -for a tremendous outburst of applause, for 'her carriage eclipsed all others ia^pomfi '^of. taste, while ste*"i herself .Was, far, ..morief beautiful than -'any in^ifliat~-.cK>wd. I '<'of pretty women about na.«~- *T.Zl~£^L.~" : .. As she passed 'Bhe.rclsKeea i "to i -catcE" eight of me and smiled* whereat'£E4iffced!. piy hat. ' ""*-,' "Ah! Then you 'know t-I/a Contessina'—the Lj#le,, Q»ioteß6-^ll^rrsxcljeuned jS'errir-inr'EnslishT' looking air-Tee -in sur--"If-ea© knew that -I. were here, in Nice, she would not dare show herself like that \ She would fly "by the next train —or probably by ' steamer to ■Amwiica,. J\. am 3iere to watch, her, and ■ — weU^l^Bjajy*^ 3PJJ}I b® frank with you^ my fagad- J t-^Ee~wMspered in my ear> 'to arrest her on a charge of murder." "Murder!" I gasped., staring at him, ' r Why, my dear Ferri, Olga Ofiferow is a great friend of inine4 She .is sorely not. guilty otthatl"* t " \ Z./IZ U £~'jT i But nty companion- smiled mystenousjly, replug : If itjjwere not to arrest her, caro puo, I should not be-here, in, Nice." And ifae eyes of both "of us* followed the roses-embowered carriage as it disappeared' around the bend. I took- him aside, away from the laughing? crowd, and as we walked over the wid« asphalted promenade be&ide the sea, 'l asked him to tell me in con/idence something concerning the affair. "Well,? it's a complete,.. mystery,", a he said. "Briefly explained, it is- this. The •Countess .rAlga, with her brother, occupies a pretty flat — -" , - _„ "In the Via Lombardia,' in Rome. I've been- there,'O[ said quickly.' '- v "On the twenty-first of last month there arrived at the Grand Hotel a ■Frenchmaai named Jules Delannoy, from iXolay, iii- the Cote J'Or. Apparently he was a Mend of the fair Russian, for 'it •is known* "that she had called and dined with him- at his hotel two years ago, and that ehe^had been seen driving with him lv the Gorso. On the morning following hie -arrival at r the Grand- the-con-cierge of" th© house" an . whjcli she livescame to^the Questurfc, and t jnade a curious statement to me. He said that on ■the previ&us evening, about eight o'clock, he was passing up the staircase when he heard they sounds of a violent altercation .in the CounteW& flat.- -He listened -and heard distinctly a female voice uttering areproachSs and threats. Following that, he heardpa man's loud- cry of pain, and then all 3E)ecairifi-silentC 'Inetfead of^Tais^ ing an aj&rm at once he had descended the stairs, and watched for somebody to leave the .place. In an hour theTDounteeb herself c&me"down,:'orde*ed a cab; and, carrying only a handbag, left. TJndeci-, d«d--h&W",to act,- the-old fellow,, who-is somewhat lacking in intelligence, waited i^l the morning before he informed ' me oft the occurrence. I, at once, drove a-Sjind to the place with^two agents of tlfe brigade mobile, and. on breaking open the door of the flat found concealed in- a ismall box-room at the rear, th© body of tho Frenchman, Delannoy. He had been etabbed to the heart. " " ft f 'Did you discover any motiye?"_ .. ' On examining 'the -dead man's S~"ess-coat, I found that the lining across c back had beeni-fili, with a 'knife, while there jvas another slit behind- the » le#> lappel. "".The victim evidently carried somethiag- 'in eecret, and had been killed in order to secure it." "Killed " by the _ Qc-nteesina, you allege?" _ - "■"'., "Yee. She was- the'only person there, her "maid Anna having- been given leave to.-go'-to'her, home Cologne ',on the previous day, while' her - brother — I have ascertained by cabling to Chicago— is there on bu&iuese. She was the only percon in the flat, and the only person [who, T lef6' it/ 2 „ 'ilAncLehe. came here?".! I '!Her '-baggage "came, on to Nice three c days previously. She- had made every preparation for aTbiig "aßeeace, having toldlhe concierge two days earlier that ehe was going to Russia, and would^not return"' to "again this "winter."* ) spent nine 'days in' making" full enauiry jbere., -She hag^ I'^ £<

I rented >the ;yiHa-- Stephanie up at CarabaceF and engaged "its etaff of servants. She is always popular here, if seems, during Carnival." "Your story surprises me," I exclaimed. _ "Suspicion must be very strong against her, or you would not be 6O confident, I know." " Theie seems no doubt, caro- mio, that the pretty countess has possessed herself of something belonging to this Jules Delannoy, who, as. far as I'm able -to make out-, was himself something of a mystery. lam making enquiries regarding him, but cannot find out much, the particulars he gave when registering himself at his hotel being evidently incorrect. Fortunately, however, the contessina-forgot to destroy one thing before her flight. In her photograph album was hie -picture, and 1 found it. "Here it is," arid he took a carte-de-visit© portrait, from his pocket-book ' and handed it to jne. ' > I halted, staggered by its eight.' "What!" he cried; "you know him !" ' "Yes," was my reply. "But aro you sure — quite certain that this photograph is of the dead man?" " Positive. I myself compared it with i 'the features of the victim." [__ ' ** Then you*; 1 ;are " wrong, my dear Ferri."- -1 said decisively. "Tho contessina did not kill him. He was- one of her best friends. To him she owed much — her very life, in fact." " Va, b&ne. You are her champion," laughed the famous Chief of Police. ".But tell me who and what was this Delannoy." I hesitated;, To explain was to commit a breach of confidence. Yet I felt that at _all / hazards I must prevent the arrest and -accusation of that woman wJao -wao one of my personal friends. Truth to tell,- Olga Ostrow, the pretty dark-haired daughter of Count Paul Ostrow, of Vilna, was an agent of the British Secret Service who had on several occasions supplied us with important information regarding political undercurrents both in Russia and France. "Well," I said, rather lameW "Delannoy is a man I know — an Englishman of French parentage. His name was George Girdlestone." " Benissimo," cried my friend. " This -is most fortunate .' What causes you to ..bo, so-ipertain^that JLha.v«_jnade a mis'take^seh? ' What k proof is there"'of her They were- friends. She -knew , .;that he. 'carried . something concealed in his clothes. They quarrelled and she struck him down. I have the knife-^-an ancient Venetian stiletto — >vhich. has beeri identified as hers !" " If,' ah© killed him, then what did •she intend doing with the body?" "Probably intended to i return; in a few weeks withVa big trunk, ostensibly .toXTemoVe , SfiWe other belongings, and to send -it away, by rail inHhat."' £And, replacing* the photograph, he lit and.tfnrned 'his, . face towards where th© .sutf^was "Blowiy -setting in the < calm eea behind Antibes. "Was 'lie wealthy?" he asked a moment later. "Where shall I find trace of him?" "You will find no trace of him, my friend," was my slow reply. " You are concealing something, Signor Hatherleigh. Why?" he asked, looking at me sharply. "Of necessity," I said. "This charge iigainst the contessina has rather upset me,*" I added, apologetically. ■ "Naturally," replied the Chief of Police. "Five of my cleverest officers have been engaged on the case; and all •are- unanimous. In the house Hve only three, oiffier families — all of them tighly respectable Italians. There' was nfxrback -way-out of the house, and^the. question ,of descending irbm-the-window^.Joy a ladder , fiati ."already been dismissed as impoesjblej^rNoj,- depend -upon jfc~that j-our "little -Sussian friend, whom' all the gay w6rlS*here "tVfdSy 1 is 'cheering^' -tilled this man, George Girdetetorie, jn, order to steal-either some money or documents which ' she knew he carried. "'-The two cuts in the lining of his coat are sufficient evidence that search was made Abr it." I wanted time to think. What Eerri had just told me had revealed to me something of which I had never dreamed. The truth was that Girdleston«, a captain in the Engineers,, was, Met mySelf, "a. member of ttie British •"Secret' 'Service. He. was miesjng, and webelieved he had disappeared- in NiceIt was from' that place he Shad last beenjheard of, i;hlerefore I had Ibeen sent south;* to try and obtain news of him. Yet here was undeniable evidence that he had fallen a victim of a plot, and had been foully done to deatn ! Together we strolled back towards the grand stand close to the Jetee Promenade, or pier) and there we waitched the judges award the "prizes — thej< first to the Countess Olga Ostrow. \ , Flushed, with pleasure and excitement the sweet-faced young woman drove slowly up to the judge's tribune, and there received the white and ,'_gold silk banner for the- best decorated carriage — 'a - prize she had " secured annually for three seasons in succession. '„' A thousand throats acclaimed, her, and amid mucn clapping of hands "and throwing of flowers she slowly passed, again laughing gaily at me over her shoulder, triumphant once more. At the door of the Municipal Casino I parted company with my friend, arranging to meet him again at seven, and go over to Monte Carlo to, dine and spend the evening. Then I walked back j to the Hotel de Franc 6 where "I stood j pondering. ' - - . . What -'had poor Girdlestone carried concealed "in the lining of his dress coat?. .What could its nature have been 'that he should have been killed for its possession ? Poor fellow ! He had been one .of my closest and best f riends — a splendid linguist, .a smart . officer, and a cosmopolitan to the bacic-bone. That night I dined with the famous Chief of Police at the Hotel de Paris at Monte Carlo, and afterwards idled about the rooms, Hot and overcrowded as they always are in height of the season. - v - ' "What do you intend doing regarding Olga Ostrow?" I asked him pointblank, as we descended through the moon-lit "gardens to the station. \ "I have aheady done as I intended," was his brief reply. "She is under arTest." , "Arrested?" I gasped, staring at Mm. /'Si? signore. She is detained at the central -police Bureau in Nice, and I hav,e applied ior her immediate extra.dition, and she will be sent to our frontier at Ventimiglia to-morrow. From thence"l shall convey her back to Rome." "This is injudicious !" I declared. L "But if you have arrested her I ask one thing— l ask' it as her frifeud. Let there for 1 the present be no publicity." "There has been none. I have made th&i -concierge at the Via Lombardia promise secrecy. Nothing, has leaked 'out. to .the , press." While we walked up and down the railway platform awaiting the express for Nice he told me a number of additional facts concerning tho tragedy — facts which I was compelled to admit jvithin myself were very convincing of Olga's guilt. My intention was to have called at the Villa Stephanie that night, but Ferri had forestalled me by arresting her immediately after her triumph at the Battle of the FlowersOh my return to my hotel I. packed my traps, scribbled a note to my friend, -and at 8 o'clock neat.morning -left di-

reel for ■ Rome by ' way - of Genoa and Pisa. Quickly I went to the big white house with the green sun shutters in the Via Lombardia and discovered the names of the three other residents, none of whom had any knowledge of the strange tragedy which had occurred in the Countess's apartment. They were all persons of the highest repute. One was Orlandini, the Deputy for Forli, andother Floris, a banker, and the third a well-known member of the Bourse. The further I carried my enquiries, however, the blacker became the suspicion against the. Countess. Yet what motive could she have for killing the man who had acted as her friend — tht> man who on one occasion in Moscow had given her warning of impending arrest after the recent rioting, and enabled her pa escape from the country. What Avas it th?t had been abstracted from the dead man's coat? FerrL had Toturned to Ptome, and had brought with him the pretty Russian who was awaiting trial. Nobody in the Eternal City waa aware of her Teturn, otherwise a "great sensation would have been>| caused in "society, where she was so well known. .1 saw .the Chief of Secret Police at the Bureau, and he told me that she had protested her innocence, declaring that she was totally unaware of Girdlestone's death. "She endeavours to prove an extraordinary alibi," he- laughed, as he puffed at his cigarette; "one that certainly will not hold water at the Assize. Court." "You, have not discovered what was stolen from his coat?" "Unfortunately, no," was my friend's reply, as he slowly stroked his beaTd. "She will make no admission, thougn I have repeatedly interrogated her." Next morning I called upon the banker Floria at his office at the Via Vittoria and, representing myself as an agent' of an insurance company, enquirled whether he knew his neighbour, the Countess. He told me that he was not on visiting 1 terms with her. She was a lady who kept herself very much to herself, and the only person; in the house she visited was the Signora Orlandini, wife of the Deputy. That afternoon I called upon the lady in question, who lived in the flat above the Countess, and, full of apologies, made enquiry regarding her neighbour, who, I informed her in confidence, was about to- insure her life for a considerable amount. '•Certainly, aignore," replied the stout elderly wife of the Deputy. "I know -the Countess. She is most charming — wealthy, 1^ believe, for she only spends the- winter months in Rome. I became Acquainted 'with her through my brother Hugo Halfinger, who sometimes comes to visit me." . ' "Halfinger, "j I repeated. "Yes. He Eves in Zurich. Do you know him?" she asked quickly. "Her© is his photograph," and she pointed to a framed cabinet standing. , upon a table in the shadow. I^glanoed at it, and then, after a few j moments' reflection, remarked : I "The Countess is on the Riviera just now, I believe." i "Yes. She left quite recently, and will return this season. She cam© to j say good-bye to me before leaving. •Hugo chanced' to be staying with us. He was passing through on has way to Palermo. He and she are great friends." The Deputy's wife was evidently very proud of her acquaintance with th« "Little Countess." So, after some further conversation!, I demanded pardon for my apparent inquisitiveness and left, driving"- straight to a telegraph office, wherd I despatched 1 a message in cipher to London, asking for an immediate response. It was handed to me mi my hotel just before midnight, and when I slowly deqiphered it I sat staggered' at the amazing truth that had • now become revealed. Next. day I hastened to the Bureau of Police, and on entering TTerri's private cabinet, that sombre, green-painted room of 'secrets, asked- a favour — that he would interrogate the Countess in my presence. At first he demurred, but when I explained thai I desired to clear up one or two important points he at last acceded, and ringing his bell, told the police-officer who entered to bring" the accused before him. '.- Tern minutes later the LHifcle Countess, dressed in Black, very pale and wan, entered' between two carabineers. When she saw me she started 1 , exclaiming in French : - "Ah! M'sieur Hatherleigh.! You— you know me — you will speak in my favour; will you not? I beg of you 1 ." - ~"^Ehe Signor Hatherleigh dessxres to *ask L 'you one/or two, questions, Contes-' sina," said Ferri in tihat^ cold formal' I voice of his. • " "Yes," I said, standing beside th« Chief of Police, who' was seated at his ■table. "You were friendly, Contessina, with Jules .Delannoy — or to call him by his right name George Girdlestone." , i ""I was. , Ho was on» of my besti friends. They say he was found dead in my apartment after I left ! But it is amazing. I never saw, him. He has not been in Rome 'for nearly two years — to my knowledge." - "When did you last see him?" "In ]2M"is, last October. He was staying at the Elysee Palace Hotel." ' 'Describe your actions during, say, the last hour you were in Rome, immediately before you left for Nice," i urged. "The last hour," she repeated, hesitating reflectively. "Well, I ascended to the next floor to wish farewell to my friend, the Signora Orlandini. Her husband was at a sitting of the Chamber, but her brothei', Herr Halfinger, was there." "You knew Halfinger — eh? What was his real name?" ' "Isaac Goldberg," she replied. "I have known him for some years. While we were sitting together Signor ' Orlandini entered and wished me- farewell, his wife leaving the room to speak with the servants." "And who is this Goldberg?" I asked, adding : "You can tell Signor Fern all that you know. "I have ascertained oniy recently that he is a German secret agent." "And now," I said, turning to 'She Chief of Police, "1 think I can explain the mystery. Last October, in Paris, the Contessina introduced this mau Goldberg — who is an unscrupulous adventurer — to poor Girdlestone, who is in the same service as myself. Goldberg had ascertained Girdlestone's intention to visit Rome, and call unexpectedly upon the Contessina. He came at once and told his sister of the impending visit. On the night in question, while the Contessina was wishing farewell to them, the Deputy's wife, standing at the window, watched Girdlestone alight from a cab, whereupon she at once made excuse to leave the room, and descending to the Contessina's flat entered with a false key with which she had already provided herself. When j Girdlestone rang the bell, the woman Orlandini opened the door. At first the meeting was a cold one, but quickly there were recriminations regarding an affair which had occurred in Germany, when suddenly, without warning, the woman struck him down with the old Venetian stiletto which had hung on the wall in the hall. Then, after securing what tsho had .desired, she hid the body in the back room where the Contessina would not sse it before her departure, and removed all traces of her crime. Afterwards she quickly slipped upstairs and rejoined her guest." -"And. what .actual proof have) you oil

this?" enquired the famous official, his dark brows narrowing. "This," and I produced a decipher of my secret message, which stated that confidential information from Berlin had been received by our department to the effect that the secret agent, Isaac Goldberg, had, a few days ago, sold to the German Intelligence Deyivhneitt for twenty thousand marks a copy of 1 the cipher used by our British Secret Service, which had been the property of Mr. George Girdlestone. The poor fellow was known to have usually carried the thin little cipher-book sewn in the lining o-f his dress-coat. The Little Countess, who gave answers, to Ferri's rapid questions, waa a few minutes later • accorded her liberty, while Ferri drove at once to the Via Lomba-rdia to arrest the sister of Isaac Goldberg. He found the door of her bedroom locked, and, on forcing it open, discovered the guilty woman lying in her chair, dead from an overdose of chloral. For some months Goldberg was hunted by Ferri and his agents backwards and forwards across Europe, eventually being cornered in Rotterdam, where he committed suicide by throwing himself into the harbour at the Boomnjes. On account of poor Girdlestone's death and the theft of the cipher, an entirely new one has now been placed in operation. t