Nick Carter's Ghost Story, Pt 1

This episode begins a new chapter in the Nick Carter Mysteries, Nick Carter's Ghost Story as it appeared in Street & Smith's Magnet Library book, The Crime of the French Cafe and Other Stories - which is available on Project Gutenberg's site to download completely free!

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Transcript

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Hi, everyone. And welcome to another episode of forward into the past. I'm your host and narrator JC Rede. And today we'll be starting another exciting episode of the Nick Carter mysteries as it appeared in the weekly story paper, the New York weekly way back in 1900. As I'm sure you know, by now all of these stories are taken from project Gutenberg and are completely free of copyright. The story, we just finished the crime of the French cafe by Nicholas Carter, was written way back in 1893. The story we're about to start now, Nick Carter's Ghost story, appeared in the New York weekly one year later in 1894, again, written by Nicholas Carter, a street and Smith publishing house pseudonym for any writers contributing to the Nick Carter mysteries. Now on this podcast, you've heard me mention things like: story papers, dime novels, thick books, pulp magazines, and lots of other things. Am I always talking about the same things. Well, yes. And no. Story papers have been around since the mid 18 hundreds, even before the civil war. Many of the Nick Carter stories and some of the other ones that I will hopefully be sharing with you in future podcasts are almost all taken from the story papers in one way or another. Story papers were like newspapers. Newspapers gave you the news and story papers gave you stories. Now, depending on the publisher, the story paper could be magazine sized or newspaper sized, but the weekly paper was always eight pages worth of stories front and back. If the character had a strong following, like Nick Carter. All chapters of the story might appear in the very same paper. Sometimes it would be serialized, meaning that the story would be broken up over several weeks. Many times this was not a popular option because families could not always purchase a paper every week. It was still of course a luxury, but an affordable one. Story papers carried with them a kind of stigma. Because they were a very affordable way for a person to get entertained. The stories within them were often looked at as mindless drivel and definitely not literature. However, the stories contained within those pages, as we've proven in our last story, we're very well-written and served to entertain the masses. This is one of the reasons that I'm guessing that Nick Carter wasn't as big a literary figure as I feel he could've, or should've been. Well, we'll just have to continue plugging through, despite what critics may have said about our hero. Here at forward into the past, we're going to place him on a virtual pedestal and give the detective a chance to reclaim some of his former glory. Nick Carter's ghost story was written in 1894 and appeared in the weekly story paper, the New York weekly. It is currently part of a compilation of three Nick Carter stories in one paperback book. The crime of the French cafe and other stories first published by street and Smith's magnet library and republished under the same title for their new magnet library series. The version found on project Gutenberg is the magnet library version published around 1900. Chapter one. The vanishing thief. 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 people nowadays will own that they believe in ghosts Yet. Most of us would be less sure about it in a graveyard at midnight, than on Broadway at noon. A man who can tell a reasonable story about having seen a ghost may not find many believers, but he will get plenty of listeners for, we are all eager to hear about such things. So Nick who always likes to oblige his friends does not deny the existence of spirits when he is asked whether he ever saw any on the contrary, if he has the time to spare, he usually tells the following story. A broad shouldered, square jaw, bright young man called on Nick one afternoon and was ushered into the study. His card had gone up ahead of him and it bore the name. Horace G Richmond. Nick ran his eye over his visitor and decided that he was a fellow who knew the world and was getting everything out of it, that there is in it. He met Nick's eye with the air of a man who was going to do something unusual and wants to announce it at the start that he can back it up. I have a case for you, Mr. Carter, if you will take it, he said. Hmm. State it, replied Nick. It's a robbery case and a mighty queer one. I don't pretend to understand it or any part of it. Who's been robbed. My uncle Colonel Richmond, or should I say his daughter? Mrs. Pond? Uh, but the robbery affects my uncle perhaps more seriously that his daughter. It is on his account that I am here. Tell the story. I'll do it, but first let me say that whatever others may think of the case, I believe it's just simply theft. Mrs. Pond has a lot of jewelry and somebody stealing it a piece at a time, That's my view, but my uncles is different. He says that these robberies are not the work of human hands. Now as for me, I try to keep my feet on the earth all the time. I want you to understand right at the start that I don't believe in any stuff about ghosts and hobgoblins. In my opinion, ghosts that steal diamonds ought to be in the jug and will probably get there unless they turn over a new leaf. My uncle doesn't see, as straight as that. Uh, perhaps you remember that. Three or four years ago, he fell into the hands of a couple of sharks who pretended to be mediums. He had always believed in spiritualism. And these crooks caught him just right. They called up the spooks of all the dead people he could think of. They got messages from the spirit land, seven nights in the week and two matinees. My uncle simply went wild about it. You remember it was all in the papers. They worked him beautifully. And if I had not stepped in and exposed them just in time, they'd have got every cent he had. That would have been quite a haul, said Nick, Well, I should remark! He's worth more than $4 million. I tell you those bogus mediums thought they'd struck something very soft. However I showed them up and convinced my uncle that they were rank frauds. They're in Sing-sing now. My uncle did not give up his belief in spirits. He said, these people are frauds, but there are others who honestly, and truly hold communication with the departed. I tell you we've had a hard time keeping him out of the hands of sharpers since then. But we've succeeded. And now by bad luck, this queer affair has come up and all my uncle's faith has returned. He wants to consult mediums and all that sort of thing. That's the only serious part of it. The jewels that have been stolen aren't worth over a couple of thousand dollars, all told. Of course, it's a nuisance to have such a thing happen in anybody's house, but we wouldn't care much if the mysterious circumstances would not driving my uncle's mind back to his pet delusion. What are these mysterious circumstances? Asked the detective. Why it's like this. Colonel Richmond's aunt Ms. Lavina Richmond was a queer old lady who was once very rich. At that time she had a passion for collecting jewels. She used to invest her money in diamonds. Uh, just as another person might buy houses or railroad stock. Only about a 10th, part of a fortune was invested so that she got any income out of it. In the last part of her life, she lost all that part of her property. So that she hadn't anything of the world, but her jewels. She wouldn't sell one. And there she was as poor in one sense, as a lodger in city hall square for she hadn't a cent of money and yet owning diamonds and other precious stones worth nearly a million dollars. She wouldn't borrow on them. She wouldn't do anything, but keep them locked up. And so she had to depend absolutely on my uncle for the necessities of life. He didn't mind that, of course, for he had plenty. She lived at his house and eventually died there. She, and my uncle never got along in spite of his kindness to her. And she had no friends. Except for a Mrs. Stephens and her daughter. They're related to the Richmond's, but the money is all in the Colonel's branch of the family. Mrs. Stevens and Millie, uh, her daughter are poor. They have just enough to live on. The Colonel would take care of them, but they won't have it. They're too proud. Now. Everybody thought that old miss Levina Richmond would leave her tremendous pile of diamonds to Millie Stevens. Indeed. Ms. Richmond used to say so continually. I've heard her say in the Colonel's presence that Mrs. Stephens should have the jewels that such was her wish. Well, she died suddenly a year or more ago. And the only will that could be found was dated many years back and left everything she possessed to the Colonel's daughter. It was the greatest surprise that you can imagine. We all knew that such a will had been made, but we hadn't the slightest idea that it still existed. And that she had made no other. On the contrary. We knew positively that she had made a much later will in favor of Millie Stephens. But the document couldn't be found. And so the old one was submitted for probate. The Colonel expected a contest, but the Stevenses did not make a murmur. It must've been a tremendous disappointment to them, but they bore it with perfect good nature. They didn't seem to feel half so badly about it as my uncle did. If he had had his way, he would have given all the jewels to Ms. Stephens. He'd said over and over again. That he believed it was his aunt's wish that the girl should have them. And I can tell you there's no man so particular as he is about respecting the wishes of the dead. Mrs Pond would have turned over the whole lot to Millie Stevens. I believe if it hadn't been for her husband. Mr pond isn't a rich man and he didn't feel that he could afford to yield up a million dollars worth of property that had been thrown at him in that way. And to speak plainly he isn't the sort of man to let go of anything that comes within his reach. My uncle offered to do the fair thing out of his own pocket. But as I've said, the Stevenses wouldn't touch his money and they're the cases stood ever since. The most valuable of the jewels are in the vaults of the central safe deposit company in this city. Some of the smaller pieces are in Mrs. Pond's possession. She is a woman who likes to wear a lot of jewelry and by Jupiter, she can do it. Now, if she likes for, she owns more diamonds than the Astor's. Mr. And Mrs. Pond live in Cleveland. Mrs Pond as I've told you is now visiting her father. You know, he bought the old Plummer place on the shore of Hempstead Harbor, long island. She's been with him for about two weeks. She has two rooms on the second floor of that house, a sitting room and a bedroom. Uh, the bedroom opens off the hall. It has only one other door, which leads to her sitting room. The first robbery occurred on the second day after she had arrived. It was late in the afternoon. Mrs pond had been out riding. When she returned, she hurried up to her room to dress for dinner. She took off some of her jewelry. Uh, some rings pins and that sort of thing, and laid them on the dressing table. Then she went to her sitting room. Now remember. I'm telling this just as she told it how much of it is fact and how much of it is hysterics. I can't say. She was scared half out of her wits by what happened afterwards and may have got mixed up in her narrative. Now this is what she told us. When she had been in the sitting room about a minute. She turned toward the bedroom and saw the door slowly shutting. She was surprised at this for, she had locked the other door of the bedroom and it did not seem possible for anybody to be in there. In fact, such a thing did not come into her mind. She supposed that a draft of air was swinging the door. She hastened toward it. But it closed before she got there. She turned the knob and tried to open the door, but was unable to do so. It did not seem to resist firmly as it would have if it had been fastened. Instead, it gave slightly as if some person had been holding it. If that was the case, he was stronger than she was for. She didn't succeed in opening the door. Then she screamed such a yell. I've never heard another woman utter. I was in my own room, which is over hers and I jumped nearly out of my skin. It startled me so! I was dressing and was in my underclothes. So it took me a minute, I should say, to get a pair of pantaloons on. Then I ran out into the hall and down the stairs. At the same moment, my uncle ran up from the ground floor. I mentioned these facts because they seem to me to be important. You see, we approach that room by two ways by the only two ways, except that by which Mrs. Pond came. Just as I got to the hall door of her bedroom, she opened it and fell into my arms in a faint. She lost consciousness only for a moment. And oncoming to herself. She cried out that a thief had been in her room. By this time there were three or four servants in the hall below. One of them stayed there by my uncles orders. The others went outside and made a circuit of the house. We led Mrs. Pawn back into her room and she pointed to her dressing table. There lay two or three rings and a pin. But the most valuable ring that she had put there was gone. It was a queer old fashioned ring in the form of a snake. And in its mouth was a Ruby worth about $250. The eyes were made of small diamonds. She declared that she had left the ring there. She told us how the door between the two rooms had closed. It appears that after she had struggled to open it for several minutes, it's suddenly yielded and she almost fell into the room. Of course, she expected to rush straight upon the thief. He had been holding the door and naturally he couldn't have gone far after releasing it. She was inside just as soon as the pressure on the other side was removed, but the room was empty. She thought of her jewels at once. She rushed to her dressing table and instantly missed the Ruby ring. Now. That's all that is to it. We hunted high and low for the thief and did not find a trace of him. How did he get away? That's where I give up the riddle. The door in the hall was locked on the inside and practically guarded by my uncle and myself. At the other door. Stood Mrs. Pond. There is only one window. It looks out on a sort of court with the house on three sides of it. A man with a wagon was almost under the window all the time. He was delivering groceries to the cook. It's absurd to suppose that anybody got in or out by that window. No thief would have been fool enough to try it at that time of day. And as I've told you, there were two persons who would have been perfectly sure to have seen him if he had. And he couldn't have got in or out without a ladder. I admit that it looked very queer. What do you make of it mr. Carter? Are you sure the ring was really taken. Couldn't she have been mistaken about it. That's the idea that occurred to me, but it happens that when Mrs. Pawn came back from the drive, my uncle banded her out of the carriage and he distinctly remembers seeing the ring on her finger. She went straight to her room and she couldn't have lost the ring by the way for there was a guard ring on the outside of it. And that we found on the dressing table. Of course we hunted for the Ruby ring. We took up the carpets. We made such a search as I've never saw before. The ring was not there. I don't think there's a shadow of doubt that the ring was stolen, but I can't form an idea of how it was done. The more I think about it, the more confused I get. To my mind, the queerest part of it is that somebody held the door and then let go of it and vanished in a quarter of a second. How are we going to explain that? Didn't the thief, put something against the door. I thought of that and try to work out that theory, but it's impossible. Not a piece of furniture was out of place and there wasn't a stick or a prop of any kind in that room that could have been used for such a purpose. Hm. Well, that's strange. I must admit set Nick. I guess it will be necessary for me to go down and look the ground over. That's just what we want. Come along then. I'm ready. Chapter two. Nick is boldly challenged. Nick knew the old Plummer mansion well. There is not a house to match it in this country. A hundred years and more ago, it must have been the scene of strange adventures. It was built certainly by one who did not expect a peaceful and quiet life within it. The thick stone walls, which look so unnecessarily massive are really double. There are secret passages and movable panels and trap doors enough in that house to hide a man if a regiment of soldiers was after him. Evidently such a place offered every chance to shrewd criminals who might have a motive for playing upon the superstitious belief of the present proprietor. Anybody who couldn't get up a respectable ghost in the old plumber house must be a very poor faker. The mere fact that all the doors and windows of a room were closed, did not prevent any person from going in or out at will. If he knew the secrets of the house. Nick thought of these things as he rode down there in the cars and he prepared himself for an interesting time, chasing bogus ghosts through the secret doors and panels. But a surprise awaited him upon his arrival. Colonel Richmond met him at the door and by Nick's request, took him at once to the room from which the articles had been stolen. It was a modern room in a new part of the house. Nick was entirely unprepared for this. He did not know that the Colonel had built any additions to the old mansion. Colonel Richmond spoke of this remarkable feature of the case at once. If this thing had happened in the old part of the house, he said, I shouldn't have thought that it was anything but an ordinary robbery. Every room there can be entered in a secret manner and no doubt, there are plenty of panels and passages, which even, I do not know, but there's nothing of the kind here. This wing was built under my eye. And from my own design, I saw the beams laid and the floors nailed down. There is absolutely no way to enter the room in which we now stand. Except by the two doors and the window. My nephew has told you about the robberies. You know that the doors and the windows were practically guarded all the time. I don't believe that any mortal being could have got in here and out again without being seen. As for myself, I understand the case perfectly. My belief will seem strange to you because you do not see with the eye of the spirit. Everything has to be done by human hands. According to your matter of fact notion. I know better. And I tell you that these jewels were taken by the spirit of my deceased aunt and that she did it to show me that my daughter was wrongfully in possession of them. When a healthy hearty old man who seems to be as sane as anybody else in the world stands up and talks such nonsense as this. What can one say to him? It is useless to tell him that he is wrong about the whole matter. It is folly to attempt to reason with them. The only way to do is to show him a perfectly natural explanation of the mystery. And simply make him see it. That was the task which Nick had before him. And it must be owned that. At the first glance, he did not see how he was going to accomplish it. He examined the room and satisfied himself that it had no secret entrances. Such being the case. Nick was unable to form a theory of the robbery, which would fit the facts as they had been stated to him. After looking at the rooms, he went with Colonel Richmond to the parlor on the ground floor. And there proceeded to question him about the mysterious occurrences. There have been three robberies in all, said the Colonel. And they have been exactly, alike. In every case, my daughter has left some articles of jewelry on the dressing table in her bedroom. And one of them has vanished, never more than one at a time. Twice it happened while she was in the adjoining room. The bedroom door, which opens into the hall was locked on these occasions. The third time she was in the hall talking with my nephew. He was standing in the upper hall, leaning over the banister rail. They were discussing a plan for a drive out to the country. Quite a party was to go. Horace had just received word from a gentlemen whom they had invited that he would now be unable to go. He had read the note in his room. And he called downstairs to my daughter to tell her about it. That was how they happened to be standing in the hall. Presently, she went back into her room and almost immediately notice that a small locket set with diamonds had been taken. She screamed at Horace and I came running to her room. We searched it thoroughly. There was nobody there. The door between the bedroom and the sitting room was open. But the other door of the sitting room, which opens into the old portion of the house was locked and bolted on the inside. Now. I submit to you, Mr. Carter, whether in that case, any other way of entrance or exit was possible? Except by the windows. I'm bound to admit, responded Nick, that if the doors were in the condition, you describe no person could have entered or left those rooms except by the windows. Well, it had been raining hard and the ground was soft. We looked carefully under all the windows. There was no sign of a footprint and nobody could have walked there without making tracks. Oh, it is clear enough. Why do we waste your time in a search for invisible spirits of the dead? He rambled on in this way for several minutes. And Nick did not try to stop him. The Colonel was at last interrupted, however, by the entrance of his daughter, Mrs pond had been out driving. She learned on her return that a stranger had come to the house and she hurried into the parlor suspecting who was there. I am delighted to see you, Mr. Carter. She exclaimed. You will clear up this abominable mystery and relieve my father's mind from these delusions. Then you do not share his opinions, said Nick. Mrs pond laughed nervously. No indeed, she said. And yet I must admit that I am quite unable to explain the facts. I suppose you have heard the story. Yes. What do you think about it? It is much too early in the case for me to express an opinion. But there are one or two questions that I should like to ask you. Oh, do so by all means! It was at my request that you were called in. At your request? Yes. I talked with Horace about it and at last we agreed to ask you to take the case. He didn't believe in it at first for, he did not want to let anybody into our family secrets. She glanced at her father as she spoke. It was evident that the family was a good deal ashamed of Colonel Richmond's spiritualistic delusions and wanted to keep quiet about them. I talked Horace into it after a while. Mrs. Pond continued. And at last he became as enthusiastic as myself. We know that you will find the thief. Thank you responded, Nick. Uh, there is one point, which seems peculiar to me. After you had been robbed once, why did you continue to leave the jewels unwatched in the very place from which one of them had been previously taken? I insisted upon it said Colonel Richmond. I told my daughter that she must make no change in her habit of wearing or caring for my aunts jewels. I wish to show that we were not foolishly trying to hide them from the eye of a spirit, but that we wish to learn the desire of my departed aunt as soon as possible. It was by your order then, said Nick. That your daughter continued to put the jewels on her dressing table when she laid them aside for any reason? It was. I have just left some of them there now. said Mrs pond. I went to my room after my ride and took off a light cloak, which was fastened with three pins. Each having a diamond in its head. I stuck them all into a cushion on that dressing table. Is the room locked. Asked Nick. Yes replied Mrs. Pond and she produced the key of the door, which opened from the hall above. Will you allow me to go up there now? Certainly. She handed the key to Nick. He took it and walked out of the parlor. Nick had already formed a sort of working theory in the case. He scarcely believed that it would hold water, but it would do for a starter. The most probable explanation that had come to him was that Mrs. Pond had not really been robbed at all. It might be that she had some motive for making these articles vanish. Perhaps she had some need of money and was secretly selling them against the wish of her husband and her father. So, when Nick took that key and went toward the room. He did not expect to find the three diamond pins in the position described by the lady. He found the door locked and he opened it by means of the key. Then he locked it behind him leaving the key in the lock. He turned at once to a dressing table. The three pins were there just as Mrs. Pond had said. Nick laughed softly to himself. That looks bad for my first shot at this queer case, he said, but perhaps she didn't dare work the game while I was in the house. He glanced out of the window of the room. Two servants were in the yard. They seem to be explaining the robberies to a new driver of a grocery man's wagon. For, they had one of his arms, apiece and were pointing to the window. Nick walked into the sitting room and spent some minutes examining the walls and especially the door leading toward the old part of the house. He found nothing at all to reward his search. There absolutely was no secret entrance. The detective decided that nothing further could be done in that room. He walked toward the other. To his astonishment. He found that the door had been closed while he had been busy with his investigations. He sprang against it. The door yielded a little and yet he could not open it. Some person stronger than he seemed to be holding it on the other side. He drew back for a spring. That door would have gone to splinters if it had stood in his way again. Instead it swung open the instant he touched it. And the force of his lunge took him nearly to the middle of the room. In an instant, he was on guard. But he saw no one. The room was quiet and it was empty. The door into the hall was locked as he had left it. All was the same, except that on the dressing table was the cushion bearing. To diamond pins instead of three. The robbery had been done as one might say, under the nose. Of the greatest detective in the world. Well, this takes my breath away, Said Nick to himself. It's the nerviest challenge that was ever sprung on me. Wow. What in the heck's going on? Did Nick actually encounter a ghost? What do you think is going on? Send me a message on Facebook or the podcast website with your thoughts. Did you know, you can also leave a voicemail there. It's true. Well, I guess we'll have to wait until the next episode to continue the story of Nick Carter's ghost story. Once again, a huge shout out to the tireless volunteers for project Gutenberg for providing this and all additional stories for this podcast and for your own personal enjoyment. Like the podcast. Tell a friend. Don't like the podcast. Tell me please. You can send me a message at the podcast website. Forward into the past podcast.com. Or visit me on my Facebook page. You can also support the show there by following the link that says, buy me a coffee. Which allows you to do just that. Buy me a coffee, or you can subscribe to a monthly subscription service. I appreciate all the support you've given me and my little podcast. Well until next time, folks. Thanks for listening. Keep sharing the stories and be a good human. Bye for now.