The Detective’s Trick
The series of burglaries which startled the public in the autumn and early winter of the year 186- was of a description to alarm any household. The general features of each robbery were the same. In each case a gang of from seven to eleven masked men had broken into an isolated dwelling containing an unusual amount of silver or jewels; had intimidated the inmates by threatening them with fire-arms; mastered them, secured them, gagged them, then quietly proceeded methodically to strip the house of all the valuables it contained.
My own position filled me with anxiety. My house is six miles from town, set in the centre of wide grounds, remote from any habitation but the gardener’s cottage at the gate. Both my wife and myself had inherited a large amount of bulky family plate. Had my own wishes been carried out every ounce of silver and every jewel we owned would have been sent into town to my bankers’, but my wife objected, laughed at my apprehensions, and begged me not to worry.
But I continued to worry, and perplexed myself with conflicting plans for safety, and one day while in town I went to the head-quarters of the police, and inquired for Betts, the detective engaged on this case.
“Bye the bye,” said he, after we had talked a few moments, “how many servants have you, Mr. Powers? Please tell me about them individually.”
I went over their names, and the detective checked them off in his memorandum-book as I gave the facts connected with them. Saunders, the butler had been with us seventeen years; the cook, five years; coachman and groom, seven; and the chambermaid, three – all fixtures in the household but Marie, my wife’s maid, who had come within the last four weeks.
“Ah!” exclaimed Betts, “where did you get Marie? Was she well recommended?”
“Oh yes; she is French, and has just come to this country with a family by the… Read More