The Stolen Cigar Case
By A. CO--N D--LEI found Hemlock Jones in the old Brook Street lodgings, musingbefore the fire. With the freedom of an old friend I at once threwmyself in my usual familiar attitude at his feet, and gentlycaressed his boot. I was induced to do this for two reasons: one,that it enabled me to get a good look at his bent, concentratedface, and the other, that it seemed to indicate my reverence forhis superhuman insight. So absorbed was he even then, in trackingsome mysterious clue, that he did not seem to notice me. Buttherein I was wrong--as I always was in my attempt to understandthat powerful intellect."It is raining," he said, without lifting his head."You have been out, then?" I said quickly."No. But I see that your umbrella is wet, and that your overcoathas drops of water on it."I sat aghast at his penetration. After a pause he said carelessly,as if dismissing the subject: "Besides, I hear the rain on thewindow. Listen."I listened. I could scarcely credit my ears, but there was thesoft pattering of drops on the panes. It was evident there was nodeceiving this man!"Have you been busy lately?" I asked, changing the subject. "Whatnew problem--given up by Scotland Yard as inscrutable--has occupiedthat gigantic intellect?"He drew back his foot slightly, and seemed to hesitate ere hereturned it to its original position. Then he answered wearily:"Mere trifles--nothing to speak of. The Prince Kupoli has beenhere to get my advice regarding the disappearance of certain rubiesfrom the Kremlin; the Rajah of Pootibad, after vainly beheading hisentire bodyguard, has been obliged to seek my assistance to recovera jeweled sword. The Grand Duchess of Pretzel-Brauntswig isdesirous of discovering where her husband was on the night ofFebruary 14; and last night"--he lowered his voice slightly--"alodger in this very house, meeting me on the stairs, wanted to knowwhy they didn't answer his bell."I could not help smiling--until I saw a frown gathering on hisinscrutable forehead."Pray remember," he said coldly, "that it was through such anapparently trivial question that I found out Why Paul FerrollKilled His Wife, and What Happened to Jones!"I became dumb at once. He paused for a moment, and then suddenlychanging back to his usual pitiless, analytical style, he said:"When I say these are trifles, they are so in comparison to anaffair that is now before me. A crime has been committed,--and,singularly enough, against myself. You start," he said. "Youwonder who would have dared to attempt it. So did I; nevertheless,it has been done. I have been ROBBED!"YOU robbed! You, Hemlock Jones, the Terror of Peculators!" Igasped in amazement, arising and gripping the table as I faced him."Yes! Listen. I would confess it to no other. But YOU who havefollowed my career, who know my methods; you, for whom I havepartly lifted the veil that conceals my plans from ordinaryhumanity,--you, who have for years rapturously accepted myconfidences, passionately admired my inductions and inferences,placed yourself at my beck and call, become my slave, groveled atmy feet, given up your practice except those few unremunerative andrapidly decreasing patients to whom, in moments of abstraction overMY problems, you have administered strychnine for quinine andarsenic for Epsom salts; you, who have sacrificed anything andeverybody to me,--YOU I make my confidant!"I arose and embraced him warmly, yet he was already so engrossed inthought that at the same moment he mechanically placed his handupon his watch chain as if to consult the time. "Sit down," hesaid. "Have a cigar?""I have given up cigar smoking," I said."Why?" he asked.I hesitated, and perhaps colored. I had really given it upbecause, with my diminished practice, it was too expensive. Icould afford only a pipe. "I prefer a pipe," I said laughingly."But tell me of this robbery. What have you lost?"He arose, and planting himself before the fire with his hands underhis coattails, looked down upon me reflectively for a moment. "Doyou remember the cigar case presented to me by the TurkishAmbassador for discovering the missing favorite of the Grand Vizierin the fifth chorus girl at the Hilarity Theatre? It was that one.I mean the cigar case. It was incrusted with diamonds.""And the largest one had been supplanted by paste," I said."Ah," he said, with a reflective smile, you know that?""You told me yourself. I remember considering it a proof of yourextraordinary perception. But, by Jove, you don't mean to say youhave lost it?"He was silent for a moment. "No; it has been stolen, it is true,but I shall still find it. And by myself alone! In yourprofession, my dear fellow, when a member is seriously ill, he doesnot prescribe for himself, but calls in a brother doctor. Thereinwe differ. I shall take this matter in my own hands.""And where could you find better?" I said enthusiastically. "Ishould say the cigar case is as good as recovered already.""I shall remind you of that again," he said lightly. "And now, toshow you my confidence in your judgment, in spite of mydetermination to pursue this alone, I am willing to listen to anysuggestions from you."He drew a memorandum book from his pocket and, with a grave smile,took up his pencil.I could scarcely believe my senses. He, the great Hemlock Jones,accepting suggestions from a humble individual like myself! Ikissed his hand reverently, and began in a joyous tone:"First, I should advertise, offering a reward; I should give thesame intimation in hand-bills, distributed at the 'pubs' and thepastry-cooks'. I should next visit the different pawnbrokers; Ishould give notice at the police station. I should examine theservants. I should thoroughly search the house and my own pockets.I speak relatively," I added, with a laugh. "Of course I mean YOURown."He gravely made an entry of these details."Perhaps," I added, "you have already done this?""Perhaps," he returned enigmatically. "Now, my dear friend," hecontinued, putting the note-book in his pocket and rising, "wouldyou excuse me for a few moments? Make yourself perfectly at homeuntil I return; there may be some things," he added with a sweep ofhis hand toward his heterogeneously filled shelves, "that mayinterest you and while away the time. There are pipes and tobaccoin that corner."Then nodding to me with the same inscrutable face he left the room.I was too well accustomed to his methods to think much of hisunceremonious withdrawal, and made no doubt he was off toinvestigate some clue which had suddenly occurred to his activeintelligence.Left to myself I cast a cursory glance over his shelves. Therewere a number of small glass jars containing earthy substances,labeled "Pavement and Road Sweepings," from the principalthoroughfares and suburbs of London, with the sub-directions "foridentifying foot-tracks." There were several other jars, labeled"Fluff from Omnibus and Road Car Seats," "Cocoanut Fibre and RopeStrands from Mattings in Public Places," "Cigarette Stumps andMatch Ends from Floor of Palace Theatre, Row A, 1 to 50."Everywhere were evidences of this wonderful man's system andperspicacity.I was thus engaged when I heard the slight creaking of a door, andI looked up as a stranger entered. He was a rough-looking man,with a shabby overcoat and a still more disreputable muffler aroundhis throat and the lower part of his face. Considerably annoyed athis intrusion, I turned upon him rather sharply, when, with amumbled, growling apology for mistaking the room, he shuffled outagain and closed the door. I followed him quickly to the landingand saw that he disappeared down the stairs. With my mind full ofthe robbery, the incident made a singular impression upon me. Iknew my friend's habit of hasty absences from his room in hismoments of deep inspiration; it was only too probable that, withhis powerful intellect and magnificent perceptive geniusconcentrated on one subject, he should be careless of his ownbelongings, and no doubt even forget to take the ordinaryprecaution of locking up his drawers. I tried one or two and foundthat I was right, although for some reason I was unable to open oneto its fullest extent. The handles were sticky, as if some one hadopened them with dirty fingers. Knowing Hemlock's fastidiouscleanliness, I resolved to inform him of this circumstance, but Iforgot it, alas! until--but I am anticipating my story.His absence was strangely prolonged. I at last seated myself bythe fire, and lulled by warmth and the patter of the rain on thewindow, I fell asleep. I may have dreamt, for during my sleep Ihad a vague semi-consciousness as of hands being softly pressed onmy pockets--no doubt induced by the story of the robbery. When Icame fully to my senses, I found Hemlock Jones sitting on the otherside of the hearth, his deeply concentrated gaze fixed on the fire."I found you so comfortably asleep that I could not bear to awakenyou," he said, with a smile.I rubbed my eyes. "And what news?" I asked. "How have yousucceeded?""Better than I expected," he said, "and I think," he added, tappinghis note-book, "I owe much to YOU."Deeply gratified, I awaited more. But in vain. I ought to haveremembered that in his moods Hemlock Jones was reticence itself. Itold him simply of the strange intrusion, but he only laughed.Later, when I arose to go, he looked at me playfully. "If you werea married man," he said, "I would advise you not to go home untilyou had brushed your sleeve. There are a few short brown sealskinhairs on the inner side of your forearm, just where they would haveadhered if your arm had encircled a seal-skin coat with somepressure!""For once you are at fault," I said triumphantly; "the hair is myown, as you will perceive; I have just had it cut at thehairdresser's, and no doubt this arm projected beyond the apron."He frowned slightly, yet, nevertheless, on my turning to go heembraced me warmly--a rare exhibition in that man of ice. He evenhelped me on with my overcoat and pulled out and smoothed down theflaps of my pockets. He was particular, too, in fitting my arm inmy overcoat sleeve, shaking the sleeve down from the armhole to thecuff with his deft fingers. "Come again soon!" he said, clappingme on the back."At any and all times," I said enthusiastically; "I only ask tenminutes twice a day to eat a crust at my office, and four hours'sleep at night, and the rest of my time is devoted to you always,as you know.""It is indeed," he said, with his impenetrable smile.Nevertheless, I did not find him at home when I next called. Oneafternoon, when nearing my own home, I met him in one of hisfavorite disguises,--a long blue swallow-tailed coat, stripedcotton trousers, large turn-over collar, blacked face, and whitehat, carrying a tambourine. Of course to others the disguise wasperfect, although it was known to myself, and I passed him--according to an old understanding between us--without the slightestrecognition, trusting to a later explanation. At another time, asI was making a professional visit to the wife of a publican at theEast End, I saw him, in the disguise of a broken-down artisan,looking into the window of an adjacent pawnshop. I was delightedto see that he was evidently following my suggestions, and in myjoy I ventured to tip him a wink; it was abstractedly returned.Two days later I received a note appointing a meeting at hislodgings that night. That meeting, alas! was the one memorableoccurrence of my life, and the last meeting I ever had with HemlockJones! I will try to set it down calmly, though my pulses stillthrob with the recollection of it.I found him standing before the fire, with that look upon his facewhich I had seen only once or twice in our acquaintance--a lookwhich I may call an absolute concatenation of inductive anddeductive ratiocination--from which all that was human, tender, orsympathetic was absolutely discharged. He was simply an icyalgebraic symbol! Indeed, his whole being was concentrated to thatextent that his clothes fitted loosely, and his head was absolutelyso much reduced in size by his mental compression that his hattipped back from his forehead and literally hung on his massiveears.After I had entered he locked the doors, fastened the windows, andeven placed a chair before the chimney. As I watched thesesignificant precautions with absorbing interest, he suddenly drew arevolver and, presenting it to my temple, said in low, icy tones:"Hand over that cigar case!"Even in my bewilderment my reply was truthful, spontaneous, andinvoluntary. "I haven't got it," I said.He smiled bitterly, and threw down his revolver. "I expected thatreply! Then let me now confront you with something more awful,more deadly, more relentless and convincing than that mere lethalweapon,--the damning inductive and deductive proofs of your guilt!"He drew from his pocket a roll of paper and a note-book."But surely," I gasped, "you are joking! You could not for amoment believe"--"Silence! Sit down!" I obeyed."You have condemned yourself," he went on pitilessly. "Condemnedyourself on my processes,--processes familiar to you, applauded byyou, accepted by you for years! We will go back to the time whenyou first saw the cigar case. Your expressions," he said in cold,deliberate tones, consulting his paper, were, 'How beautiful! Iwish it were mine.' This was your first step in crime--and myfirst indication. From 'I WISH it were mine' to 'I WILL have itmine,' and the mere detail, 'HOW CAN I make it mine?' the advancewas obvious. Silence! But as in my methods it was necessary thatthere should be an overwhelming inducement to the crime, thatunholy admiration of yours for the mere trinket itself was notenough. You are a smoker of cigars.""But," I burst out passionately, "I told you I had given up smokingcigars.""Fool!" he said coldly, "that is the SECOND time you have committedyourself. Of course you told me! What more natural than for youto blazon forth that prepared and unsolicited statement to PREVENTaccusation. Yet, as I said before, even that wretched attempt tocover up your tracks was not enough. I still had to find thatoverwhelming, impelling motive necessary to affect a man like you.That motive I found in the strongest of all impulses--Love, Isuppose you would call it," he added bitterly, "that night youcalled! You had brought the most conclusive proofs of it on yoursleeve.""But--" I almost screamed."Silence!" he thundered. "I know what you would say. You wouldsay that even if you had embraced some Young Person in a sealskincoat, what had that to do with the robbery? Let me tell you, then,that that sealskin coat represented the quality and character ofyour fatal entanglement! You bartered your honor for it--thatstolen cigar case was the purchaser of the sealskin coat!"Silence! Having thoroughly established your motive, I now proceedto the commission of the crime itself. Ordinary people would havebegun with that--with an attempt to discover the whereabouts of themissing object. These are not MY methods."So overpowering was his penetration that, although I knew myselfinnocent, I licked my lips with avidity to hear the further detailsof this lucid exposition of my crime."You committed that theft the night I showed you the cigar case,and after I had carelessly thrown it in that drawer. You weresitting in that chair, and I had arisen to take something from thatshelf. In that instant you secured your booty without rising.Silence! Do you remember when I helped you on with your overcoatthe other night? I was particular about fitting your arm in.While doing so I measured your arm with a spring tape measure, fromthe shoulder to the cuff. A later visit to your tailor confirmedthat measurement. It proved to be THE EXACT DISTANCE BETWEEN YOURCHAIR AND THAT DRAWER!"I sat stunned."The rest are mere corroborative details! You were again tamperingwith the drawer when I discovered you doing so! Do not start! Thestranger that blundered into the room with a muffler on--wasmyself! More, I had placed a little soap on the drawer handleswhen I purposely left you alone. The soap was on your hand when Ishook it at parting. I softly felt your pockets, when you wereasleep, for further developments. I embraced you when you left--that I might feel if you had the cigar case or any other articleshidden on your body. This confirmed me in the belief that you hadalready disposed of it in the manner and for the purpose I haveshown you. As I still believed you capable of remorse andconfession, I twice allowed you to see I was on your track: once inthe garb of an itinerant negro minstrel, and the second time as aworkman looking in the window of the pawnshop where you pledgedyour booty.""But," I burst out, "if you had asked the pawnbroker, you wouldhave seen how unjust"--"Fool!" he hissed, "that was one of YOUR suggestions--to search thepawnshops! Do you suppose I followed any of your suggestions, thesuggestions of the thief? On the contrary, they told me what toavoid.""And I suppose," I said bitterly, "you have not even searched yourdrawer?""No," he said calmly.I was for the first time really vexed. I went to the nearestdrawer and pulled it out sharply. It stuck as it had before,leaving a part of the drawer unopened. By working it, however, Idiscovered that it was impeded by some obstacle that had slipped tothe upper part of the drawer, and held it firmly fast. Insertingmy hand, I pulled out the impeding object. It was the missingcigar case! I turned to him with a cry of joy.But I was appalled at his expression. A look of contempt was nowadded to his acute, penetrating gaze. "I have been mistaken," hesaid slowly; "I had not allowed for your weakness and cowardice! Ithought too highly of you even in your guilt! But I see now whyyou tampered with that drawer the other night. By someinexplicable means--possibly another theft--you took the cigar caseout of pawn and, like a whipped hound, restored it to me in thisfeeble, clumsy fashion. You thought to deceive me, Hemlock Jones!More, you thought to destroy my infallibility. Go! I give youyour liberty. I shall not summon the three policemen who wait inthe adjoining room--but out of my sight forever!"As I stood once more dazed and petrified, he took me firmly by theear and led me into the hall, closing the door behind him. Thisreopened presently, wide enough to permit him to thrust out my hat,overcoat, umbrella, and overshoes, and then closed against meforever!I never saw him again. I am bound to say, however, that thereaftermy business increased, I recovered much of my old practice, and afew of my patients recovered also. I became rich. I had abrougham and a house in the West End. But I often wondered,pondering on that wonderful man's penetration and insight, if, insome lapse of consciousness, I had not really stolen his cigarcase!
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