American essays -- 19th century; American fiction -- 19th century; American poetry -- 19th century; Short stories, American
"I suggest," said the detective, "that you conceal yourself in the
store, so you can hear what they say, and when you have heard enough
you can summon witnesses and confront your husband before them."
"The very thing," said the lady. "I believe there is a policeman whose
beat is along the street the store is on who is acquainted with our
family. His duties will lead him to be in the vicinity of the store
after dark. Why not see him, explain the whole matter to him and when
I have heard enough, let you and him appear as witnesses?"
"I will speak with him," said the detective, "and persuade him to
assist us, and you will please come to my office a little before dark
tonight, so we can arrange to trap them."
* * * * *
The detective hunted up the policeman and explained the situation.
"That's funny," said the guardian of the peace. "I didn't know R----
was a gay boy at all. But, then, you can never tell about anybody. So
his wife wants to catch him tonight. Let's see, she wants to hide
herself inside the store and hear what they say. There's a little room
in the back of the store where R---- keeps his coal and old boxes. The
door between is locked, of course, but if you can get her through that
into the store she can hide somewhere. I don't like to mix up in these
affairs, but I sympathize with the lady. I've known her ever since we
were children and don't mind helping her to do what she wants."
About dusk that evening the detective's client came hurriedly to his
office. She was dressed plainly in black and wore a dark round hat and
her face was covered with a veil.
"If Charlie should see me he will not recognize me," she said.
Mr. Keeling and the lady strolled down the street opposite the jewelry
store, and about eight o'clock the young woman they were watching for
entered the store. Immediately afterwards she came out with Mr. R----,
took his arm, and they hurried away, presumably to their supper.
The detective felt the arm of the lady tremble.
"The wretch," she said bitterly. "He thinks me at home innocently
waiting for him while he is out carousing with that artful, designing
minx. Oh, the perfidy of man."
Mr. Keeling took the lady through an open hallway that led into the
back yard of the store. The outer door of the back room was unlocked,
and they entered.
"In the store," said Mrs. R----, "near the bench where my husband
works is a large table, the cover of which hangs to the floor. If I
could get under that I could hear every word that was said."
Mr. Keeling took a big bunch of skeleton keys from his pocket and in a
few minutes found one that opened the door into the jewelry store. The
gas was burning from one jet turned very low.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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