The Albert Gate Mystery

Louis Tracy

The Albert Gate Mystery, by Louis Tracy

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Title: The Albert Gate Mystery Being Further Adventures of Reginald Brett, Barrister Detective
Author: Louis Tracy
Release Date: October 22, 2007 [EBook #23150]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE ALBERT GATE MYSTERY
Being Further Adventures of REGINALD BRETT, Barrister Detective
BY LOUIS TRACY
Author of "WINGS OF THE MORNING," "THE STOW-MARKET MYSTERY," "THE FINAL WAR," ETC., ETC.
R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 9 & 11 East 16th Street, New York :: 1904

Copyright, 1904
BY R. F. FENNO & COMPANY
[Illustration: Hussein-ul-Mulk. --Frontispiece.]

Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I A MYSTERIOUS CRIME 7
II MEHEMET ALI'S NOTE 18
III WHAT THE POLICE SAW 29
IV THE MURDERS 42
V A STARTLING CLUE 51
VI A JOURNEY TO PARIS 69
VII THE HOUSE IN THE RUE BARBETTE 87
VIII WHAT HAPPENED IN THE RUE BARBETTE 100
IX A MONTMARTRE ROMANCE 115
X ON GUARD 125
XI A DISCONCERTED COMMISSARY 140
XII THE INNKEEPER 161
XIII THE RELEASE 176
XIV "TOUT VA BIEN" 198
XV "MARIE" 209
XVI THE HALL-PORTER'S DOUBTS 223
XVII THE YACHT "BLUE-BELL" 235
XVIII TALBOT'S ADVENTURES 247
XIX THE RACE 259
XX CLOSE QUARTERS 269
XXI THE FIGHT 281
XXII PIECING THE PUZZLE 292

THE ALBERT GATE MYSTERY
CHAPTER I
A MYSTERIOUS CRIME
Reginald Brett, barrister-at-law and amateur detective, had seldom been more at peace with the world and his own conscience than when he entered the dining-room of his cosy flat this bright October morning.
Since the famous affair of Lady Delia Lyle's disappearance and death, he had not been busy, and the joy of healthy idleness is only known to the hard worker. Again, while dressing, he had received a letter inviting him to a quiet shoot at a delightful place in the country.
All these things blended with happy inconsequence to render Brett contented in mind and affable in manner.
"It's a fine morning, Smith," he said cheerily, as he settled himself at the table where his "man" was already pouring out the coffee.
"Bee-utiful, sir," said Smith.
"Smith!"
"Yessir."
"Not even the best English autumn weather can stand being called 'bee-utiful.' Don't do it. You will open the flood-gates of Heaven."
Smith laughed decorously. He had not the slightest idea what his master meant, but if it pleased Mr. Brett to be jocose, it was the duty of a servant who knew his place to be responsive.
The barrister fully understood Smith's delicate appreciation--and its limits. He instantly noticed that the morning paper, instead of reposing next to his folded napkin, was placed out of reach on a sideboard, and that the eggs and bacon made their appearance half a minute too soon.
As an expert swordsman delights to execute a pass en tierce with an umbrella, so did the cleverest analytical detective of the age resolve to amaze his servitor.
"Smith," he said suddenly, composing his features to their most severe cross-examination aspect, "I think the arrangement is an excellent one."
"What arrangement, sir."
"That Mrs. Smith and yourself should have a few days' holiday, while Mrs. Smith's brother takes your place during my forthcoming visit to Lord Northallerton's--why, man, what is the matter? Is it too hot?"--for the cover Smith had lifted off the bacon and eggs clattered violently on the table.
"'Ot, sir. 'Ot isn't the word. You're a fair licker, that's what you are."
Smith invariably dropped his h's when he became excited.
"Smith, I insist that you shall not call me names. Pass the paper."
"But, sir----"
"Pass the paper. Utter another word and I refuse to accept Mrs. Smith's brother as your locum tenens."
Smith was silenced by the last terrible epithet. Yet he was so manifestly nervous that Brett resolved o enlighten him before plunging into the day's news.
"For the last time, Smith," he said, "I will explain to you why it is hopeless for you to think of concealing tradesmen's commissions from me."
The shot went home, but the enemy was acquainted with this method of attack, and did not wince.
"You knew that Lord Northallerton had recently invited me to his October pheasant-shooting. During the last few days a youth, who grotesquely reproduces Mrs. Smith's most prominent features, has mysteriously tenanted the kitchen, ill-cleaned my boots, and bungled over the studs in my shirts. This morning a letter came with the crest and the Northallerton postmark. Really, Smith, considering that you have now breathed the same air as myself for eight long years, I did not expect to be called on for an explanation. Besides, you have destroyed a masterpiece."
"Sir----" began Smith.
"Oh, I understand; there is nothing broken but your reputation.
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