Barr Robert
Jennie Baxter, Journalist
CHAPTER XIII. JENNIE INDULGES IN TEA AND GOSSIP
On Thursday afternoon there was a brilliant assemblage in the spacious salon of the Princess von Steinheimer. The rich attire of the ladies formed a series of kinetographic pictures that were dazzling, for Viennese women are adepts in the art of dress, as are their Parisian sisters. Tea was served, not in cups and saucers, as Jennie had been accustomed to seeing it handed round, but in goblets of clear, thin Venetian glass, each set in a holder of encrusted filigree gold. There were all manner of delicious cakes, for which the city is celebrated. The tea itself had come overland through Russia from China and had not suffered the deterioration which an ocean voyage produces. The decoction was served clear, with sugar if desired, and a slice of lemon, and Jennie thought it the most delicious brew she had ever tasted.
“I am so sorry,” whispered the Princess to Jennie when an opportunity occurred, “but the Countess Stron has sent a messenger to say that she cannot be present this afternoon. It seems her husband, the Premier, is ill, and she, like a good wife, remains at home to nurse him. This rather upsets our plans, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Jennie. “It is more than likely that the wife of the Premier would be exceedingly careful not to discuss any political question in this company. I have counted more upon the wife of a lesser official than upon the Countess Stron.”
“You are right,” said the Princess, “and now come with me. I want to introduce you to the wife of the Master of the Treasury, and from her, perhaps, you can learn something of the accident that befell the lover of poor Gretlich.”
The wife of the Master of the Treasury proved to be a garrulous old lady who evidently prided herself on knowing everything that was taking place about her. Jennie and she became quite confidential over their goblets of tea, a beverage of which the old lady seemed inordinately fond. As the conversation between them drifted on, Jennie saw that here was a person who would take a delight in telling everything she knew, and the only question which now arose was whether she knew anything Jennie wished to learn. But before she tried her on high politics the girl determined to find out more about the disaster that had made such an abrupt ending to Gretlich’s young dream.
“I have been very much interested,” she said, “in one of the maids here who lost her lover some weeks ago in an accident that occurred in the Treasury. The maid doesn’t seem to know very much about what happened, and was merely told that her lover, a soldier who had been on guard there that night, was dead.”
“Oh, dear, yes!” whispered the old lady, lowering her voice, “what a dreadful thing that was, four men killed and eight or nine now in the hospital. My poor husband has had hardly a wink of sleep since the event, and the Premier is ill in bed through the worry.”
“Because of the loss of life?” asked Jennie innocently.
“Oh, no, no! the loss of life wouldn’t matter; it is the loss of the money that is the serious thing, and how they are going to replace it or account for its disappearance I am sure I don’t know. The deficiency is something over two hundred million florins. Was it not awful?”
“Was the building shattered to such an extent?” inquired Jennie, who did not stop to think that such a sum would replace any edifice in Vienna, even if it had been wiped off the face of the earth.
“The Treasury was damaged, of course, but the cost of repairs will not be great. No, my child, it is a much more disturbing affair than the destruction of any state house in the Empire. What has made the Premier ill, and what is worrying my poor husband into an untimely grave, is nothing less than the loss of the war chest.”
“The war chest!” echoed Jennie, “what is that?”
“My dear, every great nation has a war chest. England has one, so has France, Germany, Russia—no matter how poor a nation may be, or how difficult it is to collect the taxes, that nation must have a war chest. If war were to break out suddenly, even with the most prosperous country, there would be instant financial panic; ready money would be difficult to obtain; a loan would be practically impossible; and what war calls for the very instant it is declared is money—not promises of money, not paper money, not silver money even, but gold; therefore, every nation which is in danger of war has a store of gold coin. This store is not composed mainly, or even largely, of the coins of the nation which owns the store; it consists of the sovereigns of England, the louis of France, the Willems d’or of Holland, the eight-florin pieces of Austria, the double-crown of Germany, the half-imperials of Russia, the double-Frederics of Denmark, and so on. All gold, gold, gold! I believe that in the war chest of Austria there were deposited coins of different nations to the value of something like two hundred million florins. My husband never told me exactly how much was there, but sometimes when things looked peaceable there was less money in the war chest than when there was imminent danger of the European outbreak which we all fear. The war chest of Austria was in a stone-vaulted room, one of the strongest dungeons in the Treasury. The public are admitted into several rooms of the Treasury, but no stranger is ever allowed into that portion of the building which houses the war chest. This room is kept under guard night and day. For what happened, my husband feels that he is in no way to blame, and I don’t think his superiors are inclined to charge him with neglect of duty. It is a singular thing that the day before the disaster took place he of his own accord doubled the guard that watched over the room and also the approaches to it. The war chest was at its fullest. Never, so he tells me, was there so much money in the war chest as at that particular time. Something had occurred that in his opinion called for extra watchfulness, and so he doubled the guard. But about midnight there was a tremendous explosion. The strong door communicating with the passage was wrenched from its hinges and flung outwards into the hallway. It is said that dynamite must have been used, and that in a very large quantity. Not a vestige of the chest remained but a few splintered pieces of iron. The four soldiers in the room were blown literally to pieces, and those in the passage-way were stunned by the shock. The fact that they were unconscious for some minutes seems to have given the criminal, whoever he was, his chance of escape. For, although an instant alarm was sent out, and none but those who had a right to be on the premises were allowed out of or in the Treasury, yet no one was caught, nor has anyone been caught up to this day.”
“But the gold, the gold?” cried Jennie eagerly.
“There was not a florin of it left. Every piece has disappeared. It is at once the most clever and the most gigantic robbery of money that has taken place within our knowledge.”
“But such a quantity of gold,” said Jennie, “must have been of enormous weight. Two hundred million florins! Why, that is twenty million pounds, isn’t it? It would take a regiment of thieves to carry so much away. How has that been done? And where is the gold concealed?”
“Ah, my child, if you can answer your own questions the Austrian Government will pay you almost any sum you like to name. The police are completely baffled. Of course, nothing has been said of this gigantic robbery; but every exit from Vienna is watched, and not only that, but each frontier is guarded. What the Government wants, of course, is to get back its gold, the result of years of taxation, which cannot very easily be re-levied.”
“And when did this robbery take place?” asked Jennie.
“On the night of the 17th.”
“On the night of the 17th,” repeated the girl, more to herself than to the voluble old woman; “and it was on the 16th that the Premier made his war speech.”
“Exactly,” said the old lady, who overheard the remark not intended for her ears; “and don’t you think there was something striking in the coincidence?”
“I don’t quite understand. What coincidence?”
“Well, you know the speech of the Premier was against England. It was not a speech made on the spur of the moment, but was doubtless the result of many consultations, perhaps with Russia, perhaps with Germany, or with France—who knows? We have been growing very friendly with Russia of late; and as England has spies all over the world, doubtless her Government knew before the speech was made that it was coming; so the police appear to think that the whole resources of the British Government were set at the task of crippling Austria at a critical moment.”
“Surely you don’t mean, madame, that the Government of England would descend to burglary, robbery—yes, and murder, even, for the poor soldiers who guarded the treasure were as effectually murdered as if they had been assassinated in the street? You don’t imagine that the British Government would stoop to such deeds as these?”
The old lady shook her head wisely.
“By the time you are my age, my dear, and have seen as much of politics as I have, you will know that Governments stop at nothing to accomplish their ends. No private association of thieves could have laid such plans as would have done away with two hundred millions of florins in gold, unless they had not only ample resources, but also a master brain to direct them. Nations hesitate at nothing where their interests are concerned. It was to the interest of no other Empire but England to deplete Austria at this moment, and see how complete her machinations are. No nation trusts another, and if Austria had proof that England is at the bottom of this robbery, she dare not say anything, because her war chest is empty. Then, again, she cannot allow either Germany or Russia to know how effectually she has been robbed, for no one could tell what either of these nations might do under the circumstances. The Government fears to let even its own people know what has happened. It is a stroke of vengeance marvellous in its finality. Austria is crippled for years to come, unless she finds the stolen gold on her own territory.”
The old lady had worked herself up into such a state of excitement during her recital that she did not notice that most of her companion visitors had taken their leave, and when the Princess approached the two, she arose with some trepidation.
“My dear Princess,” she said, “your tea has been so good, and the company of your young compatriot has been so charming, that I have done nothing but chatter, chatter, chatter away about things which should only be spoken of under one’s breath, and now I must hurry away. May I venture to hope that you will honour me with your presence at one of my receptions if I send you a card?”
“I shall be delighted to do so,” replied the Princess, with that gracious condescension which became her so well.
The garrulous old lady was the last to take her leave, and when the Princess was left alone with her guest, she cried,—
“Jennie, I have found out absolutely nothing, what have you discovered?”
“Everything!” replied the girl, walking up and down the floor in excitement over the unearthing of such a bonanza of news.
“You don’t tell me so! Now do sit down and let me know the full particulars at once.”
When Jennie’s exciting story was finished she said,—
“You see, this robbery explains why the Premier did not follow up his warlike speech. The police seem to think that England has had a hand in this robbery, but of course that is absurd.”
“I am not so sure of that,” replied the Princess, taking as she spoke, the Chicago point of view, and forgetting for the moment her position among the aristocracy of Europe. “England takes most things it can get its hands on, and she is not too slow to pick up a gold mine here and there, so why should she hesitate when the gold is already minted for her?”
“It is too absurd for argument,” continued Jennie calmly, “so we won’t talk of that phase of the subject. I must get away to England instantly. Let us find out when the first train leaves.”
“Nonsense!” protested the Princess; “what do you need to go to England for? You have seen nothing of Vienna.”
“Oh, I can see Vienna another time; I must get to England with this account of the robbery.”
“Won’t your paper pay for telegraphing such an important piece of news?
“Oh, yes; there would be no difficulty about that, but I dare not trust either the post or the telegraph in a case like this. The police are on the watch.”
“But couldn’t you send it through by a code? My father always used to do his cabling by code; it saved a lot of money and also kept other people from knowing what his business was.”
“I have a code, but I hesitate about trusting even to that.”
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said the Princess. “I want you to stay in Vienna.”
“Oh, I shall return,” said Jennie. “I’ve only just had a taste of this delightful city. I’ll come right back.”
“I can’t trust you to do anything of the kind. When you get to London you will stay there. Now here is what I propose, and it will have the additional advantage of saving your paper a day. We will run down together into Italy—to Venice; then you can take along your code and telegraph from there in perfect safety. When that is done you will return here to Vienna with me. And another thing, you may be sure your editor will want you to stay right here on the spot to let him know of any outcome of this sensational dénouement.”
“That isn’t a bad idea,” murmured Jennie. “How long will it take us to get to Venice?”
“I don’t know, but I am sure it will save you hours compared with going to London. I shall get the exact time for you in a moment.”
Jennie followed the suggestion of the Princess, and together the two went to the ever-entrancing city of Venice. By the time they reached there, Jennie had her account written and coded. The long message was handed in at the telegraph office as soon as the two arrived in Venice. Jennie also sent the editor a private despatch giving her address in Venice, and also telling him the reason for sending the telegram from Italy rather than from Austria or Germany. In the evening she received a reply from Mr. Hardwick. “This is magnificent,” the telegram said. “I doubt if anything like it has ever been done before. We will startle the world to-morrow morning. Please return to Vienna, for, as you have discovered this much, I am perfectly certain that you will be able to capture the robbers. Of course all the police and all the papers of Europe will be on the same scent, but I am sure that you will prove a match for the whole combination.”
“Oh, dear!” cried Jennie, as she handed the message to her friend. “What a bothersome world this is; there is no finality about anything. One piece of work simply leads to another. Here I thought I had earned at least a good month’s rest, but, instead of that, a further demand is made upon me. I am like the genii in fairy tales: no sooner is one apparently impossible task accomplished than another is set.”
“But what a magnificent thing it would be if you could discover the robber or robbers.”
“Magnificent enough, yes; but that isn’t to be done by inviting a lot of old women to tea, is it?”
“True, so we shall have to set our wits together in another direction. I tell you, Jennie, I know I have influence enough to have you made a member of the special police. Shall I introduce you as from America, and say that you have made a speciality of solving mysteries? An appointment to the special police would allow you to have unrestricted entrance to the secret portion of the Treasury building. You would see the rooms damaged by the explosion, and you would learn what the police have discovered. With that knowledge to begin with, we might then do something towards solving the problem.”
“Madame la Princesse,” cried Jennie enthusiastically, “you are inspired! The very thing. Let us get back to Vienna.” And accordingly the two conspirators left Italy by the night train for Austria.
CHAPTER XIV. JENNIE BECOMES A SPECIAL POLICE OFFICER
When Jennie returned to Vienna, and was once more installed in her luxurious rooms at the Palace Steinheimer, she received in due time a copy of the Daily Bugle, sent to her under cover as a registered letter. The girl could not complain that the editor had failed to make the most of the news she had sent him. As she opened out the paper she saw the great black headlines that extended across two columns, and the news itself dated not from Venice, but from Vienna, was in type much larger than that ordinarily used in the paper, and was double-leaded. The headings were startling enough:—
PHANTOM GOLD.
THE MOST GIGANTIC ROBBERY OF MODERN TIMES.
THE AUSTRIAN WAR CHEST DYNAMITED.
TWENTY MILLION POUNDS IN COIN LOOTED.
APPALLING DISASTER AT THE TREASURY IN VIENNA.
FOUR MEN KILLED, AND SIXTEEN OTHERS MORE OR LESS SERIOUSLY INJURED.
“Dear me!” the Princess cried, peering over Jennie’s shoulder at these amazing headings, “how like home that looks. The Bugle doesn’t at all resemble a London journal; it reminds me of a Chicago paper’s account of a baseball match; a baseball match when Chicago was winning, of course, and when Anson had lined out the ball from the plate to the lake front, and brought three men in on a home run at a critical point in the game.”
“Good gracious!” cried Jennie, “what language are you speaking? Is it slang, or some foreign tongue?”
“It is pure Chicagoese, Jennie, into which I occasionally lapse even here in prim Vienna. I would like to see a good baseball match, with the Chicago nine going strong. Let us abandon this effete monarchy, Jennie, and pay a visit to America.”
“I’ll go with pleasure if you will tell me first who robbed the war chest. If you can place your dainty forefinger on the spot that conceals two hundred million florins in gold, I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“Oh, yes, that reminds me. I spoke to my husband this morning, and asked him if he could get you enrolled as a special detective, and he said there would be some difficulty in obtaining such an appointment for a woman. Would you have any objection to dressing up as a nice young man, Jennie?”
“I would very much rather not; I hope you didn’t suggest that to the Prince.”
The Princess laughed merrily and shook her head.
“No, I told him that I believed that you would solve the mystery if anyone could, and, remembering what you had done in that affair of my diamonds, my husband has the greatest faith in your powers as an investigator; but he fears the authorities here will be reluctant to allow a woman to have any part in the search. They have very old-fashioned ideas about women in Austria, and think her proper place is presiding over a tea-table.”
“Well, if they only knew it,” said Jennie archly, “some things have been discovered over a teacup within our own memories.”
“That is quite true,” replied the Princess, “but we can hardly give the incident as a recommendation to the Austrian authorities. By the way, have you noticed that no paper in Vienna has said a single word about the robbery of the war chest?”
“It must have been telegraphed here very promptly from London, and yet they do not even deny it, which is the usual way of meeting the truth.”
While they were talking, a message came from his Highness, asking if he might take the liberty of breaking in upon their conference. A few moments after, the Prince himself entered the apartment and bowed with courtly deference to the two ladies.
“I have succeeded,” he said, “beyond my expectations. It seems that a newspaper in London has published an account of the whole affair, and the police, who were at their wits end before, are even more flustered now that the account of the robbery has been made public. By the way, how did you learn anything about this robbery? It did not strike me at the time you spoke about Miss Baxter’s commission this morning, but I have been wondering ever since.”
“Jennie received a paper from London,” said the Princess hurriedly, “which said the war chest of Austria had been robbed of two hundred million florins, but there is nothing about it in the Vienna Press.”
“No,” replied the Prince; “nor is there likely to be. The robbery is now known to all the world except Austria, and I imagine nothing will be said about it here.”
“Is there, then, any truth in the report?” asked the Princess innocently.
“Truth! It’s all truth; that is just where the trouble is. There is little use of our denying it, because this London paper is evidently well informed, and to deny it we should have to publish something about the robbery itself, which we are not inclined to do. It is known, however, who the two correspondents of this London paper are, and I believe the police are going to make it so interesting for those two gentlemen that they will be glad to leave Vienna, for a time at least. Of course, nothing can be done openly, because Englishmen make such a fuss when their liberties are encroached upon. One of the young men has been lured across the frontier by a bogus telegram, and I think the authorities will see that he does not get back in a hurry; the other we expect to be rid of before long. Of course, we could expel him, but if we did, it would be thought that we had done so because he had found out the truth about the explosion.”
“How did you learn of the explosion?” asked the Princess.
“Oh, I have known all about the affair ever since it happened.”
The Princess gave Jennie a quick look, which said as plainly as words, “Here was the news that we wanted in our household, and we never suspected it.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” cried the Princess indignantly.
“Well, you see, my dear, you never took much interest in politics, and I did not think the news would have any attraction for you; besides,” he added, with a smile, “we were all cautioned to keep the matter as secret as possible.”
“And wonderfully well you have managed it!” exclaimed the Princess. “That shows what comes of trusting a secret to a lot of men; here it is, published to all the world.”
“Not quite all the world my dear. As I have said, Austria will know nothing regarding it.”
“The Princess tells me,” said Jennie, “that you were kind enough to endeavour to get me permission to make some investigation into this mystery. Have you succeeded?”
“Yes, Miss Baxter, as I said, I have succeeded quite beyond my expectations, for the lady detective is comparatively an innovation in Vienna. However, the truth is, the police are completely in a fog, and they are ready to welcome help from whatever quarter it comes. Here is a written permit from the very highest authority, which you do not need to use except in a case of emergency. Here is also an order from the Chief of Police, which will open for you every door in Vienna; and finally, here is a badge which you can pin on some not too conspicuous portion of your clothing. This badge, I understand, is rarely given out. It is partly civil and partly military. You can show it to any guard, who will, on seeing it, give you the right-of-way. In case he does not, appeal to his superior officer, and allow him to read your police permit. Should that fail, then play your trump card, which is this highly important document. The Director of the Police, who is a very shrewd man, seemed anxious to make your acquaintance before you began your investigation. He asked me if you would call upon him, but seemed taken aback when I told him you were my wife’s friend and a guest at our house, so he suggested that you would in all probability wish first to see the scene of the explosion, and proposed that he should call here with his carriage and accompany you to the Treasury. He wished to know if four o’clock in the afternoon would suit your convenience!”
“Oh, yes!” replied Jennie. “I am eager to begin at once, and, of course, I shall be much obliged to him if he will act as my guide in the vaults of the Treasury, and tell me how much they have already discovered.”
“You must not expect much information from the police—in fact, I doubt if they have discovered anything. Still, if they have, they are more than likely to keep it to themselves; and I imagine they will hold a pretty close watch on you, being more anxious to learn what you discover, and thus take the credit if they can, than to furnish you with any knowledge of the affair they may happen to possess.”
“That is quite natural, and only what one has a right to expect. I don’t wish to rob the police of whatever repute there is to be gained from this investigation, and I am quite willing to turn over to them any clues I may happen to chance upon.”
“Well, if you can convince the Director of that, you will have all the assistance he can give you. It wouldn’t be bad tactics to let him know that you are acting merely in an amateur way, and that you have no desire to rob the police of their glory when it comes to the solving of the problem.” Promptly at four o’clock the Director of the Police put in an appearance at the Palace Steinheimer. He appeared to be a most obsequious, highly decorated old gentleman, in a very resplendent uniform, and he could hardly conceal his surprise at learning that the lady detective was a woman so young and so pretty. Charmed as he was to find himself in the company of one so engaging, it was nevertheless evident to Jennie that he placed no very high estimate on the assistance she might be able to give in solving the mystery of the Treasury. This trend of mind, she thought, had its advantages, for the Director would be less loth to give her full particulars of what had already been accomplished by the police.
Jennie accompanied the Director to that extensive mass of buildings of which the Treasury forms a part. The carriage drew up at a doorway, and here the Director and his companion got out. He led the way into the edifice, then, descending a stair, entered an arched corridor, at the door of which two soldiers stood on guard, who saluted as the Chief passed them.
“Does this lead to the room where the explosion took place?” asked Jennie. “Yes.” “And is this the only entrance?” “The only entrance, madame.” “Were the men on guard in this doorway injured by the explosion?” “Yes. They were not seriously injured, but were rendered incapable for a time of attending to their duties.” “Then a person could have escaped without their seeing him?” “A whole regiment of persons might have escaped. You will understand the situation exactly if I compare this corridor to a long cannon, the room at the end being the breech-loading chamber. Two guards were inside the room, and two others stood outside the door that communicated with this corridor. These four men were killed instantly. Of the guards inside the room not a vestige has been found. The door, one of the strongest that can be made, somewhat similar to the door of a safe, was flung outward and crushed to the floor the two guards who stood outside it in the corridor. Between the chamber in which the chest lay and the outside entrance were sixteen men on guard. Every one of these was flung down, for the blast, if I may call it so, travelled through this straight corridor like the charge along the inside of the muzzle of a gun. The guards nearest the treasure chamber were, of course, the more seriously injured, but those further out did not escape the shock, and the door by which we entered this corridor, while not blown from its hinges, was nevertheless forced open, its strong bolts snapping like matches. So when you see the great distance that intervened between the chamber and that door, you will have some idea of the force of the explosion.”
“There is no exit, then, from the treasure chamber except along this corridor?”
“No, madame. The walls at the outside of the chamber are of enormous strength, because, of course, it was expected that if an attempt at robbery were ever made, it would be made from the outside, and it is scarcely possible that even the most expert of thieves could succeed in passing two guards at the door, sixteen officers and soldiers along the corridor, two outside the Treasury door, and two in the chamber itself. Such a large number of soldiers were kept here so that any attempt at bribery would be impossible. Among such a number one or two were sure to be incorruptible, and the guards were constantly changed. Seldom was either officer or man twice on duty here during the month. With such a large amount at stake every precaution was taken.”
“Are there any rooms at the right or left of this corridor in which the thieves could have concealed themselves while they fired the mine?”
“No, the corridor leads to the treasure chamber alone.”
“Then,” said Jennie, “I can’t see how it was possible for a number of men to have made away with the treasure in such circumstances as exist here.”
“Nevertheless, my dear young lady, the treasure is gone. We think that the mine was laid with the connivance of one or more officers on duty here. You see the amount at stake was so large that a share of it would tempt any nine human beings out of any ten. Our theory is that the train was laid, possibly electric wires being used, which would be unnoticed along the edge of the corridor, and that the bribed officer exploded the dynamite by bringing the ends of the wires into contact. We think the explosion was a great deal more severe than was anticipated. Probably, it was expected that the shock would break a hole from the treasure chamber to the street, but so strong were the walls that no impression was made upon them, and a cabman who was driving past at the time heard nothing of the sound of the explosion, though he felt a trembling of the ground, and thought for a moment there had been a shock of earthquake.”
“You think, then, that the thieves were outside?”
“That seems the only possible opinion to hold.”
“The outside doors were locked and bolted, of course?”
