The Suicide, or Nick Carter and The Lost Head, Pt 2

Nick Carter investigates the mysterious suicide of Cyrus Darling, a man who recently sold his business and converted his assets into cash. As Nick delves deeper into the case, he uncovers evidence that suggests Darling's suicide may have been staged. With the help of his team, Nick follows leads that point to a possible conspiracy involving a woman named Kate Crandall and her connection to Darling. As they race against time to uncover the truth, Nick and his team must navigate a web of deceit and betrayal. Will they be able to solve the case before it's too late?

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Transcript

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Hi friends and welcome to another episode of forward into the past. I'm JC Rede, your host and narrator. And today we're diving into the next two chapters in the Nick Carter mystery from 1915 called The Suicide or Nick Carter and The Lost Head. In the early days of the 20th century, one name dominated the dime novel racks and firing imaginations of readers across America. Nick Carter. The adventures of this consummate gentleman detective and master of disguise hit a cultural resonance that persists over a century later. Nick Carter first appeared in the inaugural issue of the New York Weekly in 1886, his creation shrouded in mystery under the house name of Nicholas Carter. For the next three decades, his capers unfolded weekly in an inexpensive story paper. By 1915, over 1000 unique Nick Carter stories had been published. And he became one of the most widely read fictional characters of all time. Part of Nick Carter's widespread popularity stemmed from his embodiment of idealized, masculinity and heroism amidst the social upheaval of industrializing America. Urbane wry and dashing, Nick modeled a new type of detective as celebrity who relied on wits and science rather than brawn. He matched his physical prowess with skills and disguise, amateur dramatics, and psychological deduction. Crafting an urbane proto-James Bond type, perfectly calibrated for male power fantasies. The formulaic yet engrossing Nick Carter stories were disposable entertainment, but their hero tapped into deeper cultural needs. His squeaky clean adventures provided thrilling escapism from the stresses of modern city life, while reassuringly reinforcing traditional gender roles and moral order. Readers could project onto this crime busting fantasy man who outwitted evildoers and saved imperiled society with intellect and pluck. American popular culture soon proved too small to contain Nick Carter's success. His adventures were syndicated globally in condensed versions, spawning foreign language translations, comic strips big little books, movies. And even nail Polish. While his boyish name and simplistic storylines dated him for later generations. Nick Carter's global fame and pop cultural sway proved surprisingly enduring, making the suave sleuth one of the first multimedia super studs of pulp fiction celebrity. And now let's dive back into one of those many stories that helped propel his popularity. This one entitled the suicide or Nick Carter and the lost head. Chapter three pointers to crime. Nick Carter made no comments upon the disappearance of the photograph or at least none that expressed his thoughts. Mrs. Darling could not say how long it had been gone from the album, nor could she conceive of any reason for its removal. He may have led a much more gay and festive life than she suspected, thought Nick, upon leaving the house after giving her a few additional instructions. He may also have been a thousand times more sly than she imagined. Another woman now has the photograph, perhaps, the gift of a recreant husband who thought it easier to give her that, than to sit for a new one. It would be worthwhile to know the woman's name in that case. And also to know what has become of Danny Maloney. Nick's mental digression occurred while he emerged from the driveway gate and found that his chauffeur was nowhere to be seen. The touring car stood at the curbing, but there was no sign of Danny. Well, that's a bit odd. Nick soliloquized gazing in each direction. I thought he might be merely stretching his legs. He must have seen someone or something that he thought it worthwhile to learn more about. He never neglects. Ah, That will explain. A scrap of paper protruding from under the chauffeur seat had caught Nick's eye as he was about to enter the car. He drew it out and read scribbled with lead pencil. Don't wait for me, chief I'll report later. Nick smiled and sprang into the car. 10 minutes later, he arrived at the residence of Dr. Lyons, whom he found alone in his office. Well, well, Nick, this is an unexpected pleasure. Said the physician after their greeting. It's ages since I've seen you. What's on your mind. I know your call is not entirely a social one. Nor do you look as if you need a prescription? No, I'm right as a trivet. Said Nick smiling. It's about the suicide of Mr. Cyrus Darling. Oh, what about it? Now, this is strictly between us, mind you, and must not go further. Enough said, mum's the word. You viewed the remains. I am told and pronounced it a case of suicide. Oh, certainly there was nothing else to it. Absolutely nothing. Hm. I'm not so sure of that. Said, Nick. Coming from anyone else, Nick, I should laugh derisively at that. Dr. Lyons replied with a look of surprise. Coming from you, however, it demands serious consideration. What do you mean? Well, I'm not prepared to say at this time. Nick rejoined. I've just begun to look into the case at the request of Mrs. Darling. When I learn anything definite, Lyons, I will make it a point to inform you. Well, that's good enough for me. said the physician. But I really think Nick, that you are on a wild goose chase. There is nothing to it. Darling committed suicide, Nick, as sure as you're alive. It will be wise to report nothing different at present said Nick. You may be right, of course, and I may drop the case within 24 hours. Well, I'll wager you will. I would like to know how you sized up the circumstances, nevertheless. Nick went on. Darling left a note, which stated his suicidal intention. Then went to the boat house and set it on fire immediately shooting himself. That is your opinion, I understand, briefly stated. Yes, that is about the size of it admitted the physician. Were you among the first to view the remains? Yes. I was sent for immediately. I saw all the remained of the unfortunate man. He was almost entirely cremated. You made a careful examination, I suppose. Oh, yes, certainly. Of the skull. I examined his remains thoroughly. Nick. Did you find any fractured bone or splintered as if caused by a bullet? Nick inquired. No, I did not. Did you find the bullet that killed him? No, the body was terribly burned, parts of it being entirely consumed. It was impossible to perform a satisfactory autopsy. There is no question of his identity, however, if that is what you have in mind. Darling's ring was found on his finger. He wore a double set of false teeth, which alone are enough to establish his identity. We found some of the horn buttons on his clothing, moreover, which his wife readily recognized. Really Nick, there is nothing to it. Why do you think then that he set fire to the building before shooting himself? Oh, possibly to make sure of his death in case he only wounded himself. Or perhaps the fire was caused by the flash of the revolver. There was a lot of gasoline in the building. It may have caught from the flash of the weapon. It certainly caused a very intense fire. The house and all it contained were completely consumed. I was told that you still have the revolver and the articles mentioned. Yes, that is true. May I take them temporarily. I will guarantee to return them. Oh, certainly Dr. Lyons readily consented. If the matter were a less solemn one, however, I would wager a big round roll, Nick, that you are wasting your energies on a fog bank. There is nothing in it. Cyrus Darling killed himself as sure as death and taxes. We'll let it go at that then for the present. said the detective with a smile. I will return these articles in a few days. Whenever convenient, Nick, replied the physician. He had taken them from a drawer in his desk while speaking, a parcel wrapped in thick brown paper and securely tied with a string. Nick thanked him and departed. Half an hour later, he entered the New York office of Clayton and Craig, attorneys, and was received in the private office of the senior partner. Nick found however that Clayton could add, but little to the information already imparted by Mrs. Darling. Clayton stated that he had been Darling's legal advisor for a number of years, that the latter had left no will, and that his personal estate, as far as could be discovered, consisted of less than$5,000. From several brokers with whom Darling had been in the habit of dealing nevertheless, Clayton had learned that he had sold bonds and securities within two months amounting to nearly a hundred thousand dollars. It certainly looks bad. Mr. Carter, deucedly bad. He added gravely after stating these facts. Though, I have not yet mentioned it to Mrs. Darling. I can form only one theory consistent with the circumstances and that is not entirely consistent. And what is your theory? Nick inquired. I think Mr. Darling was murdered. By whom. I have no idea, not the slightest. Do you know of any persons with whom he has had business relations, who might've committed the crime? No, I do not. I am entirely in the dark. How would you account for the letter stating his suicidal intention? That was found in his wife's bedroom. It may be a forgery. Put in the bedroom by someone else. Exactly. Well, that would have been possible perhaps, if a conspiracy existed. Nick allowed, tentatively. Conspiracy. Yes, that is just the word said the lawyer. I think that Cyrus Darling was the victim of a dastardly conspiracy, Nick, carried out with infernal cleverness. And that his fortune was the incentive to the crime? Precisely said Clayton. I don't know how it was framed up, of course, nor who are involved. I do believe that Darling was terribly jockeyed in some way, however, and either persuaded or forced to turn all of his bonds and securities into cash. I know positively that he did so, for all of the brokers with whom he dealt are well-acquainted with him and are absolutely sure of his identity at the time. He certainly is the man who made the sales and received the money. There is no question about that. Admitting that said Nick. What more do you suspect? I think that Darling was bunkoed out of it by some means and later lured to the boathouse and killed. The rascals, covering their tracks by setting fire to the house and contriving to leave a forged letter pointing to the suicide. Either that is the case, Nick or else he got in wrong and lost all of his money and then really committed suicide. You think either theory is tenable? questioned Nick smiling a bit oddly. I do think so. Hmm. Well, I'm going to look a little deeper into the case. I am glad to hear that Carter on my word. Clayton quickly declared. No man would be more likely to ferret out the true solution of the mystery. There is no solution Clayton, but the true solution. Nick replied. I may require some little time. Meanwhile kindly say and do nothing about the matter nor reveal anything that would add to Mrs. Darling's distress. She appears to be a fine woman. Oh, she is a fine woman, Nick, that goes without saying, and I know what I'm talking about. Has Darling lived happily with her? Oh, surely Clayton replied. Why not indeed. She is just the type of woman to steady a man of his temperament. He liked a good time, you know, and was easily influenced. But for her Nick, he might've gone clean over the traces. She was his balance wheel. She kept him going nicely instead of off on a tangent. Yes. Yes. Yes. They lived happily all right. Or I would have heard of it. No doubt. Nick allowed. He took his hat and arose to go. Chapter four. The angle of reflection. As Nick Carter had inferred even before finding the terse explanatory note of his chauffeur there was a very good reason for the disappearance of Danny Maloney. There were equally good reasons too, for the brevity of his note and his delay in reporting at the home office. Seated alone in the touring car after Nick had entered the Darling residence, Danny fell to watching a gang of men at work in the near distance then installing the wires for an electric lighting system to one of which Nick had jestingly referred when approaching the place. Scarce five minutes had passed however, when something of much more importance caught Danny's eye and instantly claimed his attention. It was the sudden appearance and significant actions of a man who rounded a corner, some 30 yards back of the motionless car. One might wonder perhaps how Danny not having eyes in the back of his head caught sight of the man the moment he turned the corner. As a matter of fact, however, Danny saw him reflected in the chauffeur's mirror clamped to the frame of the windshield, in which he could distinctly see objects back of the car. This led to a somewhat curious situation. The man saw the car and it's solitary occupant, but he did not observe the mirror. And he evidently supposed that Danny facing straight ahead could not see him. Danny easily saw the reflection, however, without turning his head. He saw the stranger stop short the moment he rounded the corner and saw the car at which he gazed suspiciously, which in turn was enough to arouse Danny's suspicions. Gee, what's eating him? He muttered, watching him intently. Here's a reflex, back action discovery for fair. He don't know, I can see him, but who the Dickens is he and what struck him? The man stood gazing intently first at the car then at the Darling residence, several times from one to the other. He appeared in doubt, uncertain what to do. Presently frowning darkly, he took a pencil and a letter from his pocket and made a memorandum of the envelope. Then he turned and retraced his steps and vanished around the corner as quickly as he had come. Gee whiz. There's nothing to it. thought Danny, that fellow was going to the Darling residence. He was alarmed when he saw this car and he has taken the number of it. He don't know who owns it then. So why did he change his mind? He certainly must be off color or he would not have feared to enter the house, but why. Why be hanged? It's up to me by gracious to find out why. Danny abruptly ended his vain speculations. He quickly wrote the brief note that Nick found a little later. Then sprang from the car and started after the departing stranger. Danny discovered him nearly a block away after rounding the corner. An erect finely built man, fashionably clad, having all of the outward indications of a gentlemen. He was about 30 years old with dark eyes and hair and clean cut features. In many respects a strikingly handsome man. Danny shadowed him to the city. He saw him enter an automobile garage and consult a reference book, one containing the license numbers of New York cars and the names of their owners. His face when he departed, wore a darker cloud, a look of increasing apprehensions. Gee, he's found out that the car belongs to Nick Carter. Danny readily reasoned. That don't seem to please him worth a cent, which shows that my suspicions are all to the good. I'll not lose sight of it by gracious until I learn who he is and where he hangs out. Danny then shadowed him to a leading hotel where his quarry spent nearly an hour at lunch in the cafe. Afterwards sauntering out and bringing up 10 minutes later near a large west side apartment house, then known as the Ashburton Chambers. This house evidently was his destination for he gazed up at one of the side windows when crossing a street on the corner of which the lofty building stood. He's got a date with someone thought Danny watching him from the opposite side of the avenue. Or maybe he has a suite there and... no by ginger, I was right. He's here to see that woman. She emerged from a side door of the house just as the man was crossing the street. A finely formed woman in a stylish walking costume. A figure so striking and graceful that Danny at once felt sure that he had seen her before. Her face was partly hidden under a polka dotted veil, however, precluding immediate recognition. They caught sight of one another at the same moment and the man stopped on the corner while the woman hastened to join him. Remaining there apparently heedless of numerous passing pedestrians they entered into a subdued and earnest conversation the gravity of which was obvious. I've got to have a nearer look at her, thought Danny. I'm dead sure I've seen her before. Maybe too I can get a line on what they're talking about by passing near them. Retracing his steps, he quickly crossed the avenue and then slowly approached the couple sauntering by them. He then saw the woman's face distinctly, her large lustrous eyes, glowing darkly through the meshes of her veil, her attractive features and clear velvety complexion, her finely formed mouth and rounded chin. A strikingly handsome face of that type and character for which men sometimes lose their heads. Great guns, Danny muttered. It's Kate Crandall. That fly beauty who figured in that Maybrick case. She tried to throw down the church rector because he would not marry her. She must've found an easier way to get money and plenty of it, if fine feathers cut any ice. Danny paused in the broad, main entrance to the house and furtively watched the couple. He had tried in vain to catch a word or two of their conversation. He now saw the man show Kate Crandall the memorandum made on his letter and he rightly inferred that they were talking about the touring car and its owner. Presently parting abruptly, the man hailed a taxi cab and rode away while Kate Crandall quickly approached the front entrance to the house. Danny as quickly withdrew to the office where he began an examination of the register. Kate Crandall entered and approached the counter speaking to the clerk. If Ralph Sheldon comes in, Tom, send him up to my suite will you. She said familiarly. Certainly. Replied the clerk. Does that go until evening? It goes until he shows up, replied Kate with significant emphasis. I will be at home all of this evening. I'll keep him in mind. Thank you. Kate turned quickly away and entered the elevator. Danny decided that he had picked up all that was coming to him and he started for home. It was nearly six o'clock when he entered the house and found Nick in his business office with his two chief assistants, Chick Carter, and Patsy Garvin. On the office table lay the several articles Nick had obtained from Dr. Lyons, which he was just beginning to examine already having told Chick and Patsy about the case as thus far set forth. It took Danny only a few minutes to report what he had seen and heard. And it was very nearly in line with what Nick had expected. Good work, Danny. Very good work. He said approvingly. It will help some my lad, even more than you imagine. I have left the car at the curbing. Take charge of it, please. Sure thing, Mr. Carter cried Danny, glad to feel that he had been of service. So. Kate Crandall is at the Ashburton Chambers, eh? Remarked Nick with a thoughtful frown. I have wondered what became of her after that Maybrick affair. She is about as attractive a woman as one often meets, but she has an infernally evil streak in her. You think she figures in this affair, Chick enquired. I certainly do Nick declared. Danny undoubtedly is right in thinking that the unknown man was going to the Darling residence. The fact that he has an interest there and also in Kate Crandall, denotes plainly enough that Cyrus Darling also had an interest in the woman. The stranger in view of his conduct forms a connecting link between the other two, so to speak. I see the point. Chick replied. Gee, that point is plain enough put in Patsy, but holy smoke, it must be a case of suicide. How else can you size it up chief? Darling had been in the dumps for two or three months as down on the mouth as a sick horse, according to his wife's story. Crooks could not have forced him to feign despondency for that length of time. In my opinion, chief, he just about blew in all of his money with some other woman and blew out his brains when the bundle was gone. That's how I size it up. Really. queried Nick dryly. That's what! He certainly shot himself. Chief. If what Dr. Lyons told you is true. If what Dr. Lyons told me is true, Patsy. You are probably wrong. Wrong. It's a hundred to one. Why so Chief? Because in 99 cases out of a hundred the person who commits suicide with a revolver, shoots himself in the head. Said Nick. That is the most natural spot for a suicide to select. He knows that a bullet in the brain will instantly render him insensible and preclude conscious suffering. Even if he does not stop to reason about it, he instinctively selects his head in which to send that fatal bullet. The records corroborate me. How often do you hear of a man shooting himself in the heart or the lungs? Very seldom indeed. Chick agreed. I don't know that I've ever heard of a case. But what of that? question Patsy argumentatively. I don't see how that cuts any ice. Darling could have shot himself in the head. I admit that he could, but he did not. Nick said dryly. Why are you so sure of that, Chief? Because the bullet would have made a hole in the skull. Even if sent into his mouth or through an eye, it surely would have passed through the brain and have fractured at least the back of the skull. Dr. Lyons is positive however that the skull was intact. I questioned him particularly about that. Admitting that my premises are correct then, it's a hundred to one that Cyrus Darling did not shoot himself. Ah, gee, there's no getting around that argument. Patsy thoughtfully allowed. You must be right chief after all. I think so. But how came the revolver near him? Someone else must have shot him. In that case, chief. He must have been murdered as Dr. Lyons and the lawyer Clayton suspect. On the contrary, Patsy. Both of them are wrong. Nick said confidently. Cyrus Darling was not shot at all. Not shot at all. Echoed Patsy incredulously. That is my opinion. Gee, that beats me. Why was the revolver there, then? Why... Stop a moment, Nick interrupted. You have just said, Patsy, that crooks could not have forced Darling to feign despondency for eight consecutive weeks. If so then his despondency must have been voluntarily feigned or else it must've been genuine. Well sure thing, chief that's plain enough. One fact, however, indicates that it was not genuine. Nick proceeded. I refer to the fact that he recently spent many evenings in town, far more than in the past. His wife thinks he sought diversion to relieve his depression. He did not however, permit her to accompany him. That is a very significant point. It is wholly inconsistent in a husband seeking such relief. He would have wanted his wife to cheer him up and help divert his mind. Bearing one contingency. Namely chief? Another attraction. Gee, there may be something in that, said Patsy quick to see the point. You mean another woman? Exactly. Kate Crandall. Quite likely Patsy in view of what Danny discovered. Oh, gee whiz things are shaping up. Said Patsy laughing. I begin to think you are right chief. Let's see now in how far this is confirmed by Darling's conduct during the past three months. Said Nick. It was then that his wife first notice his reticence and lack of customary affection. He must have been bestowing it upon the other. Quite likely. Nick dryly agreed. Then came a long period of increasing depression, relieved by frequent evenings in town, ostensibly alone. Later he sold his business. Also his bonds and securities. Obviously he wanted all of his funds in cash. Finally came the suicide, the letter stating his intention and the burning of the boathouse, which nearly consumed the corpse and precluded absolute identification. By Jove Nick, you evidently think the whole business was faked, said Chick abruptly. That is precisely what I think. And that Cyrus Darling is not dead. Exactly. But the body. One obtained for a blind. Nick interrupted. Really Chick this entire combination of circumstances admits of no other conclusion. Darling's conduct during the past three months as I have just sized it up. The selection of the boathouse for the supposed suicide where the arrangements for such a fraud could have been easily and secretly made, as well as a quick and undetected getaway on the river, after the trick was turned, the setting fire to the building in order to cremate the corpse and preclude identification, except by means of articles placed on it. The garments, ring, and even the false teeth of the supposed victim, all point to one conclusion Chick. That the job was a frame-up from beginning to end. By Jove it's a curious case, Nick, if you are right. Chick answered. Not so very curious, it's a case of a lost head. A lost head? Exactly. That of a man who has lost his head. It's up to us to help him find it and set it back on his shoulders. If not too late. Lost his head for a woman. Is that what you mean? Precisely. But why do you think we may be too late? Because though a week has passed since the supposed suicide, the cat has not jumped. Said Nick enigmatically. I don't get you. Nor I, Chief, put in Patsy. What cat has not jumped. The two legged cat responsible for the whole business, Nick explained. We can safely assume the foregoing being correct, that Darling turned his fortune into cash with a view to leaving the country with the woman that he aimed to create a belief that he is dead, presumably to prevent investigations, pursuit, and a possible lawsuit with consequent alimony and that he intended living abroad under a fictitious name with the woman. That now seems perfectly reasonable. Chick agreed. The question is then, assuming Kate Crandall to be the woman, why have they not jumped the country? Nick added. Why the delay. Why is she established in the Ashburton Chambers? Why the continued interest in the darling residence as appears in what Danny saw and heard. That shows plainly enough that she is the woman involved. It is confirmed by her acquaintance with Ralph Sheldon mentioned by Mrs. Darling, as a friend of her husband. His friendship may be of the left-handed kind. Most likely Nick. All this then denotes that something has gone wrong. Why has Darling not fled with the woman? Has he been given the double cross? He may have been bunkoed out of his big bundle of cash and. Well, there's no telling what has become of him. It's up to us to find out. I get you now, Nick. Chick nodded. He may after all be the man found dead in the boathouse. Nick quickly shook his head. I don't think so, said he. If there were evidence showing positively that he was shot rather than the contrary. I might think the rascals killed him. His going there voluntarily however, his feigning despondency for close upon two months, apparently paving the way to get by with a fake suicide all convinces me that he was not killed. I see. This is further confirmed by the removal of his photograph, which Mrs. Darling thinks is the only one in existence. What was his object in removing it. To prevent broadcast publication of it in the newspapers, in case the truth was suspected said Nick. Verbal descriptions cut no great ice. A picture, however, has brought many, a knave to the ring bolt. He was heading off that means of identification, exposure, and arrest. Gee that listens good to me chief. Said Patsy. 10 to one, it hits the nail on the head. I feel reasonably sure of it. But what are your plans? Chick enquired. If Darling is up against a gang, as you suspect and they discover that his wife has put us on the case. It's long odds that they will lose no time in bolting. That's the very point I was coming to. Nick said more forcibly. They must have discovered it. Danny's report convinces me of that. Kate Crandall knows it, also the unknown man who informed her, he must be identified. We have Danny's description of him, which will probably be recognized by persons employed in the Ashburton Chambers, if he has been in the habit of visiting Kate Crandall. No doubt. You tackle that part of the work Chick and we'll get after these suspects before they can make a successful getaway. But Kate Crandall said she would be in her apartments all of this evening, chief. Patsy reminded him. That don't look much like bolting. That may have only been a blind. Nick replied. She may have feared that she already was being watched or that the clerk might be questioned later. Be that as it may, we'll lose no time in seeking tangible proof of my suspicions. While Chick is hunting up the unknown man. Patsy, you see what you can learn about Ralph Sheldon and Phillip Floyd. I got you chief. If the former visits Kate Crandall, as she directed, we may be lucky enough to clinch the case and round up the entire gang this very evening. Nick added rising abruptly. I will tackle Kate Crandall personally. I'll find out in short order, what she knows about Cyrus Darling. That's the stuff, Chief, cried Patsy. We'll be off at once then. Danny is still waiting. We can make the Ashburton Chambers in 20 minutes. What does Kate Crandall know about the disappearance of Cyrus Darling? And who exactly is the unknown man. We'll find out next time on episode three of The Suicide or Nick Carter and the Lost Head. Well friends, that's it for this episode of Forward Into The Past. Thanks for joining us on our journey, through the stories of the public domain. If you enjoyed this episode, be sure to subscribe to the show on your favorite podcast platform so you never miss an installment. You can also visit forwardintothepastpodcast.com for links to our merchandise shop where you can pick up Forward Into The Past t-shirts, mugs and other great gear. While you're there why not follow us on social media to stay up-to-date on news and some behind the scenes glimpses of the podcast. Well, we'll travel to another fascinating story next time. But until then, Thanks for listening. Keep sharing the stories and be a good human. Bye for now.