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THE MYSTERY OF THE BOULE CABINET
_A Detective Story_
BY
BURTON E. STEVENSON
With Illustrations by THOMAS FOGARTY
1911
To
A.B.M.Fellow-Sherlockian
CONTENTS
I A CONNOISSEUR'S VAGARY II THE FIRST TRAGEDY III THE WOUNDED HAND IV THE THUNDERBOLT V GRADY TAKES A HAND VI THE WOMAN IN THE CASE VII ROGERS GETS A SHOCK VIII PRECAUTIONS IX GUESSES AT THE RIDDLE X PREPARATIONS XI THE BURNING EYES XII GODFREY IS FRIGHTENED XIII A DISTINGUISHED CALLER XIV THE VEILED LADY XV THE SECRET OF THE UNKNOWN FRENCHMAN XVI PHILIP VANTINE'S CALLER XVII ENTER M. ARMAND XVIII I PART WITH THE BOULE CABINET XIX "LA MORT!" XX THE ESCAPE XXI GODFREY WEAVES A ROMANCE XXII "CROCHARD, L'INVINCIBLE!" XXIII WE MEET M. PIGOT XXIV THE SECRET OF THE CABINET XXV THE MICHAELOVITCH DIAMONDS XXVI THE FATE OF M. PIGOT XXVII THE LAST ACT OF THE DRAMA XXVIII CROCHARD WRITES AN EPILOGUE
ILLUSTRATIONS
CLUTCHING AT HIS THROAT, HE HALF-TURNED AND FELL
"I GRABBED HER AGAIN, AND JUST THEN MR. VANTINE OPENED THE DOOR ANDCAME OUT INTO THE HALL."
"A MOMENT LATER M. FELIX ARMAND WAS SHOWN IN"
WITH HIS BACK TO THE DOOR, STOOD A MAN RIPPING SAVAGELY AWAY THESTRIPS OF BURLAP
CHAPTER I
A CONNOISSEUR'S VAGARY
"Hello!" I said, as I took down the receiver of my desk 'phone, inanswer to the call.
"Mr. Vantine wishes to speak to you, sir," said the office-boy.
"All right," and I heard the snap of the connection.
"Is that you, Lester?" asked Philip Vantine's voice.
"Yes. So you're back again?"
"Got in yesterday. Can you come up to the house and lunch with meto-day?"
"I'll be glad to," I said, and meant it, for I liked Philip Vantine.
"I'll look for you, then, about one-thirty."
And that is how it happened that, an hour later, I was walking overtoward Washington Square, just above which, on the Avenue, the oldVantine mansion stood. It was almost the last survival of the oldregime; for the tide of business had long since overflowed from theneighbouring streets into the Avenue and swept its fashionable folkfar uptown. Tall office and loft buildings had replaced thebrownstone houses; only here and there did some old family hold on,like a sullen and desperate rear-guard defying the advancing enemy.
Philip Vantine was one of these. He had been born in the house wherehe still lived, and declared that he would die there. He had no onebut himself to please in the matter, since he was unmarried and livedalone, and he mitigated the increasing roar and dust of theneighbourhood by long absences abroad. It was from one of these thathe had just returned.
I may as well complete this pencil-sketch. Vantine was about fiftyyears of age, the possessor of a comfortable fortune, something of aconnoisseur in art matters, a collector of old furniture, a littleeccentric--though now that I have written the word, I find that Imust qualify it, for his only eccentricity was that he persisted, inspite of many temptations, in remaining a bachelor. Marriageablewomen had long since ceased to consider him; mothers with maturingdaughters dismissed him with a significant shake of the head. It wasfrom them that he got the reputation of being an eccentric. But hisreasons for remaining single in no way concerned his lawyers--aposition which our firm had held for many years, and the active workof which had come gradually into my hands.
It was not very arduous work, consisting for the most part of thedrawing of leases, the collecting of rents, the reinvestment offunds, and the adjustment of minor differences with tenants--all ofwhich were left to our discretion. But occasionally it was necessaryto consult our client on some matter of unusual importance, or to gethis signature to some paper, and, at such times, I always enjoyed thetalk which followed the completion of the business; for Vantine was agood talker, with a knowledge of men and of the world gained by muchtravel and by a detached, humourous and penetrating habit of mind.
He came forward to meet me, as I gave his man my hat and stick, andwe shook hands heartily. I was glad to see him, and I think he wasglad to see me. He was looking in excellent health, and brown fromthe voyage over.
"It's plain to see that the trip did you good," I said.
"Yes," he agreed; "I never felt more fit. But come along; we can talkat table. There's a little difficulty I want you to untangle for me."I followed him upstairs to his study, where a table laid for two hadbeen placed near a low window.
"I had lunch served up here," Vantine explained, as we sat down,"because this is the only really pleasant room left in the house. IfI didn't own that plot of ground next door, this place would beimpossible. As it is, I can keep the sky-scrapers far enough away toget a little sunshine now and then. I've had to put in an air filter,too; and double windows in the bedrooms to keep out the noise; but Idare say I can manage to hang on."
"I can understand how you'd hate to move into a new house," I said.
Vantine made a grimace.
"I couldn't endure a new house. I'm used to this one--I can find myway about in it; I know where things are. I've grown up here, youknow; and, as a man gets older, he values such associations more andmore. Besides, a new house would mean new fittings, new furniture--"
He paused and glanced about the room. Every piece of furniture in itwas the work of a master.
"I suppose you found some new things while you were away?" I said."You always do. Your luck's proverbial."
"Yes--and it's that I wanted to talk to you about, I brought back sixor eight pieces; I'll show them to you presently. They are all prettygood, and one is a thing of beauty. It's more than that--it's anabsolutely unique work of art. Only, unfortunately, it isn't mine."
"It isn't yours?"
"No; and I don't know whose it is. If I did, I'd go buy it. That'swhat I want you to do for me. It's a Boule cabinet--the mostexquisite I ever saw."
"Where did it come from?" I questioned, more and more surprised.
"It came from Paris, and it was addressed to me. The only explanationI can think of is that my shippers at Paris made a mistake, sent me acabinet belonging to some one else, and sent mine to the otherperson."
"You had bought one, then?"
"Yes; and it hasn't turned up. But beside this one, it's a mere daub.My man Parks got it through the customs yesterday. As there was aBoule cabinet on my manifest, the mistake wasn't discovered until thewhole lot was brought up here and uncrated this morning."
"Weren't they uncrated in the customs?"
"No; I've been bringing things in for a good many years, and thecustoms people know I'm not a thief."
"That's quite a compliment," I pointed out. "They've been tearingthings wide open lately."
"They've had a tip of some sort, I suppose. Come in," he added,answering a tap at the door.
The door opened and Vantine's man came in.
"A gentleman to see you, sir," he said, and handed Vantine a card.
Vantine looked at it a little blankly.
"I don't know him," he said. "What does he want?"
"He wants to see you, sir; very bad, I should say."
"What about?"
"Well, I couldn't just make out, sir; but it seems to be important."
"Couldn't make out? What do you mean, Parks?"
"I think he's a Frenchman, sir; anyway, he don't know much English.He ain't much of a looker, sir--I've seen hundreds like him sittingout in front of the cafes along the boulevards, taking all aft
ernoonto drink a bock."
Vantine seemed struck by a sudden idea, and he looked at the cardagain. Then he tapped it meditatively on the table.
"Shall I show him out, sir?" asked Parks, at last.
"No," said Vantine, after an instant's hesitation. "Tell him towait," and he dropped the card on the table beside his plate.
"I tell you, Lester," he went on, as Parks withdrew, "when I wentdownstairs this morning and saw that cabinet, I could hardly believemy eyes. I thought I knew furniture, but I hadn't any idea such acabinet existed. The most beautiful I had ever seen is at the Louvre.It stands in the Salle Louis Fourteenth, to the left as you enter. Itbelonged to Louis himself. Of course I can't be certain without acareful examination, but I believe that cabinet, beautiful as it is,is merely the counterpart of this one."
He paused and looked at me, his eyes bright with the enthusiasm ofthe connoisseur.
"I'm not sure I understand your jargon," I said. "What do you mean by'counterpart?'"
"Boule furniture," he explained, "is usually of ebony inlaid withtortoise-shell, and incrusted with arabesques in metals of variouskinds. The incrustation had to be very exact, and to get it so, theartist clamped together two plates of equal size and thickness, oneof metal, the other of tortoise-shell, traced his design on the topone, and then cut them both out together. The result was twocombinations, the original, with a tortoise-shell ground and metalapplications; and the counterpart, applique metal with tortoise-shellarabesques. The original was really the one which the artist designedand whose effects he studied; the counterpart was merely a resultantaccident with which he was not especially concerned. Understand?"
"Yes, I think so," I said. "It's a good deal as though MichaelAngelo, when he made one of his sketches, white on black, put a sheetof carbon under his paper and made a copy at the same time, black onwhite."
"Precisely. And it's the original which has the real artistic value.Of course, the counterpart is often beautiful, too, but in a muchlower degree."
"I can understand that," I said.
"And now, Lester," Vantine went on, his eyes shining more and more,"if my supposition is correct--if the Grand Louis was content withthe counterpart of this cabinet for the long gallery at Versailles,who do you suppose owned the original?"
I saw what he was driving at.
"You mean one of his mistresses?"
"Yes, and I think I know which one--it belonged to Madame deMontespan."
I stared at him in astonishment, as he sat back in his chair, smilingacross at me.
"But," I objected, "you can't be sure--"
"Of course I'm not sure," he agreed quickly. "That is to say, Icouldn't prove it. But there is some--ah--contributory evidence, Ithink you lawyers call it Boule and the Montespan were in their gloryat the same time, and I can imagine that flamboyant creaturecommissioning the flamboyant artist to build her just such acabinet."
"Really, Vantine," I exclaimed, "I didn't know you were so romantic.You quite take my breath away."
He flushed a little at the words, and I saw how deeply in earnest hewas.
"The craze of the collector takes him a long way sometimes," he said."But I believe I know what I'm talking about. I am going to make acareful examination of the cabinet as soon as I can. Perhaps I'llfind something--there ought to be a monogram on it somewhere. What Iwant you to do is to cable my shippers, Armand et Fils, Rue duTemple, find out who owns this cabinet, and buy it for me."
"Perhaps the owner won't sell," I suggested.
"Oh yes, he will. Anything can be bought--for a price."
"You mean you're going to have this cabinet, whatever the cost?"
"I mean just that."
"But, surely, there's a limit."
"No, there isn't."
"At least you'll tell me where to begin," I said. "I don't knowanything of the value of such things."
"Well," said Vantine, "suppose you begin at ten thousand francs. Wemustn't seem too eager. It's because I'm so eager, I want you tocarry it through for me. I can't trust myself."
"And the other end?"
"There isn't any other end. Of course, strictly speaking, there is,because my money isn't unlimited; but I don't believe you will haveto go over five hundred thousand francs."
I gasped.
"You mean you're willing to give a hundred thousand dollars for thiscabinet?"
Vantine nodded.
"Maybe a little more. If the owner won't accept that, you must let meknow before you break off negotiations. I'm a little mad about it, Ifancy--all collectors are a little mad. But I want that cabinet, andI'm going to have it."
I did not reply. I only looked at him. And he laughed as he caught myglance.
"I can see you share that opinion, Lester," he said. "You fear forme. I don't blame you--but come and see it."
He led the way out of the room and down the stairs; but when wereached the lower hall, he paused.
"Perhaps I'd better see my visitor first," he said. "You'll find anew picture or two over there in the music-room--I'll be with you ina minute."
I started on, and he turned through a doorway at the left.
An instant later, I heard a sharp exclamation; then his voice callingme.
"Lester! Come here!" he cried.
I ran back along the hall, into the room which he had entered. He wasstanding just inside the door.
"Look there," he said, with a queer catch in his voice, and pointedwith a trembling hand to a dark object on the floor.
I moved aside to see it better. Then my heart gave a sickening throb;for the object on the floor was the body of a man.