The Mysterious Mickey Finn (34 page)

‘Very careless with that crimson, you were,' Evans said, chidingly. ‘Not up to your usual standard. Greco, as you know by this time, did not use cochineal until just before his death.'

‘To continue,' said Homer, ‘Haute Costa de Bellevieu was faced with a desperate situation. He made a deal with a band of professional kidnappers of whom we have six members with us, one of them, Eloi le Mec, being dead, the others, at least for the time being, alive.

‘The hour of kidnapping was fixed with reference to the banquet of the
Société des Artistes Français,
and it was purely by chance that Mr Weiss chose to visit Mr Jansen's studio just previously. The investigating authorities, naturally, were misled into believing that Jansen and his friends, including me, were responsible, particularly as Jansen had cashed two cheques under circumstances that looked suspicious.

‘Gring had been ordered to find out, if possible, whether Mr Weiss was intending to visit picture galleries and whether he knew about the shower of Grecos by which Mr Stables was to refresh the American world of art. Gring failed to make a satisfactory report, and was intimidated by Heiss and Lourde into disclosing the identity of Paty de Pussy.

‘Mr Weiss was kidnapped, as you all know. He and Colonel Kvek were both drugged by means of a hypodermic, and were loaded, taxi and all, on the waiting barge which is so nobly bearing us home to triumph and to victory. For a time the police and the authorities generally were completely up in the air. None of the suspects had the remotest connexion with the case except Gring, and he had not known about the kidnapping. At that point I took a hand in the case because it seemed my obvious duty. I convinced Sergeant Frémont, here, to leave me at large and he had the good sense to do so and to render me every possible service. The credit should go to him.

‘Now how did Gring die, and why, and at whose hand?'

The prefect hung his head in utter despair. ‘I didn't...' he began.

‘Don't be unduly disturbed,' Evans said, kindly. ‘I know the exact extent of your guilt and of your innocence. The demise took place because of a series of coincidences that nearly baffled me, in fact, that had me gasping for air and praying for light during a considerable period of time. My barber, one Henri Duplessis, is an amorous chap with a taste for expatriate American girls. He is tender-hearted. In order not to cause his wife unnecessary worry Henri was wont, when a-wooing, to leave his spouse in a drugged and peaceful state, and for this purpose he used an old Inca remedy known in the States as a Mickey Finn.'

‘Ah,' the sergeant sighed, and barely restrained himself from a gambol or two on the deck.

‘On the day of Gring's death, Henri entered the Dingo to obtain from the bartender a Mickey Finn and was observed in the act of pocketing the phial by a member of the prefect's drug squad. The barber was nabbed and grilled, and in order to escape a serious charge was obliged to tell the prefect about the Mickey Finn and its uses and qualities. The prefect took the phial away and placed it in the third drawer, right, of his desk. Later he filled it with typewriter oil.'

The prefect, paler and more agonized, tried to rise.

‘Patience,' said Evans. ʽMeanwhile, de Bellevieu, who seemed to know everything, found out that Gring had been talking too much and decided to do away with him.

‘Now I must explain to those of you who don't know it that our prefect is an ardent royalist, and has worked for the restoration of the Bourbons many years. He was pledged to carry out the orders of his chief, Haute Costa de Bellevieu, but had never been ordered to commit murder before. He knew that if he rebelled, the matter might come to public attention, the coveted arms would never be obtained, disaster would follow. When Henri the barber turned in the Mickey Finn, the prefect thought he saw a way out. He decided to administer the knock-out drops and later have Gring shanghaied to some distant port, so badly frightened that he would never return. Haute Costa de Bellevieu would not know Gring was alive. With this in mind, the prefect went to Montparnasse, found Gring at his accustomed table, slipped the Mickey Finn into the
créme de cacao
and hurried back to the prefecture. There he found an order from the minister of justice to rearrest Gring at once. Unfortunately, Gring was dead.

‘No other case of death from a Mickey Finn has ever been reported in the course of history, but Gring's condition at the time he drank the Mickey verged on collapse. He was wild with anxiety about a girl and some oil fields, had had no proper sleep for days. The Mickey Finn, which (and the doctor will bear me out), would not kill a ladybug or a white-footed mouse, extinguished Ambrose. Dr Hyacinthe Toudoux acquitted himself with glory in the autopsy. He analysed correctly the oil of the prairie rattler and another ingredient, which in fairness to the bartending profession I must not disclose.

‘Let us now review the search for Hugo Weiss.'

‘Not too much at once, boy,' the ambassador said. ‘Let's snatch a quick drink.'

‘Da, da,' roared Colonel Kvek, and the prisoners croaked their approval. Everyone had a drink except Sergeant Frémont, who passed the recess cutting capers in the bow.

When all were in their seats again, Evans glanced from one to the other and resumed his explanation. ‘In order to get Mr Weiss out of the way, de Bellevieu got in touch with a notorious gang known as the St Julien rollers, whose specialty had been jewel robberies. This gang was one of the few in Paris which used the river as a means of escape and the transportation of stolen diamonds toward Antwerp. The leader is one Barnabé Vieuxchamp, the third from the left among the prisoners, and a distant relative, I believe, of the illustrious Barney Oldfield, the American speed king. Am I right, Monsieur Vieuxchamp?'

‘I'm not saying a word,' the head gangster said.

‘Of course, Weiss was shadowed. A car blocked the passage of the Colonel's taxi on the Pont Royal, it was easy to jab the victims with a hypodermic, take possession of the taxi, drive it on the quay and load it with its unconscious driver and passenger. I was able, quite early in the game, with the help of Miss Leonard, to eliminate all other avenues of egress from the city excepting the Seine. At that time I didn't know which gang was involved, so I couldn't say for sure whether they had gone up river or down toward Havre. Colonel Kvek's ingenuity, in sending me the message, saved the day.'

‘It was nothing,' the colonel said. ‘I punched a hole in the forehead with a small stick I found in the hay and tossed it overboard on the chance that someone would find it and recognize the subject. I had only faint hopes that it would come into your hands but anything was worth trying.'

‘Once I had fixed the town of Frontville as the hiding place, the rest was simple, although mishaps occurred,' Evans said. ‘Hjalmar knew about the island and that it had been an aramunition dump during the war. The obsolete type of hand grenade thrown at us in the Rendez-vous des Imprévoyants led me to fear that explosives had been left in the dugouts and were at the gang's disposal. That being the case, I surmised correctly that the dugouts would be mined and wired for destruction if danger threatened. Had not the horse of Miss Leonard, our trigger-woman, tripped over a brier there would have been no explosion at all, but in that instance our luck, which had been running well, deserted us.

‘It was not at first the intention of Haute Costa de Bellevieu to murder Mr Weiss or later to kidnap and try to do away with Miss Leonard, the prefect, and M. de Pussy. He had to act hastily, and once the kidnapping was done he soon saw that the jig was up if Weiss should return. These undesirable citizens of the St Julien mob did not agree to kill Mr Weiss and were double-crossed by de Bellevieu and threatened with denunciation and arrest on other charges if they would not put Weiss to death.'

Homer turned to the sergeant. ‘I hope, Sergeant, you will have the prosecution take that factor into account. If our fellow voyagers are guillotined they will never see Devil's Island. That would be a pity.'

‘Ah, boa constrictors, tarantulas, Corsicans with whips, stale bread ….' the sergeant intoned.

‘Don't rub it in,' said Vieuxchamp, defiantly. ‘And let me tell you wise guys something. If Devil's Island's tough, we'll make it tougher.' And he spat within an inch of the prefect's toe.

‘Ho, ho,' chuckled the ambassador, nudging the minister of justice in the ribs.

‘We now come to Monsieur Paty de Pussy,' Evans said, smiling at the furious old aristocrat.

‘Swords, pistols. What you like. In the Bois, early morning,' the old man muttered. Evans smiled.

‘I was led to the studio of Paty de Pussy by a series of coincidences, although I should have found it sooner or later. You see, when Messrs Heiss and Lourde, now deceased, were released from the
préfecture,
marked for death, they left behind six false Grecos which had been intended for immediate shipment. I interviewed Dinde, got a look at the books, and for reasons of my own which Mr Weiss will understand, retrieved the false Grecos from the prefect and shipped them to their several destinations. In doing so, I was surprised to learn that identical shipments had just been sent to the six museums in question. I found the expressman who had carted them, got the address of the house where he had picked them up and was astonished to find they had come from the studio of Paty de Pussy and that Abel and Dodo were hiding there.'

‘They forced their way in,' said Paty de Pussy. ‘Served them right to be hanged. Don't know who did it, but I approve.'

‘Rather drastic punishment for small-time peccadillos,' Evans said. ‘I believe, with the Mikado, that the punishment should fit the crime.'

‘You're an interloper and a busybody,' Paty de Pussy said.

Evans flushed. ‘I'm afraid that is true,' he said. ‘I assure you that I shall never try sleuthing again. But to resume. What puzzled and excited me most was the speed with which de Pussy turned out Old Masters.'

At this, Hugo Weiss was all attention. ‘How, my boy? Tell us how?'

‘Monsieur Paty de Pussy had had long practice with Greco's palette. For him to match colours was easy, and he has remarkable talent for imitating the Master's brush strokes. It seems that Abel Heiss and Dodo Lourde had got track of a process by which canvas may be sensitized to receive a photographic impression.'

‘I'll be damned,' Weiss said. ‘Not even a straightforward copy.'

Paty de Pussy could contain himself no longer.

‘That shameful expedient was forced on me by those ruffians. I had never stooped to such a trick before. Indeed, my draughtmanship has passed for Rembrandt's, Titian's, a score of masters, and hangs on many museum walls,' he said.

‘That's interesting,' Evans said. ‘You were aware, then, that the copies were to be used for illegitimate purposes?'

The old man spluttered. ‘If I'd known the prices that scoundrel, Haute Costa de Bellevieu, received, I would have called him out. I got five hundred francs a metre, not a cent more. I never knew what de Bellevieu was up to until he had me tied up by his lackeys.'

‘I understand that,' Evans said. ‘You were approached by Gring with orders for copies. He delivered them and brought you your inadequate pay. Up to the evening of their death, you had never seen Heiss and Lourde? Am I right?'

‘That is correct,' admitted Paty de Pussy.

‘It may make you feel better to know that the late Haute Costa de Bellevieu sealed his doom when he telephoned you, preparatory to having you mishandled and trussed up,' Evans said. ‘The man had been fiendishly clever in covering his tracks. Not even M. Crayon de Crayon was aware of the machinations of his leader, nor the miraculous sources from which dollars poured into the coffers of the royalist cause.'

The prefect groaned.

‘M. le Prefect is next in order,' Evans said. ‘I am not a moralist but an observer of human antics. M. Crayon de Crayon will pardon me if I remark at the outset that he is a psychological curiosity. He has sown no wild oats in his youth, formed no pernicious habits, has been in minor matters punctiliously honest. Yet he could serve one government in a responsible post, while planning and working for its overthrow.'

Crayon de Crayon made a gesture as if to interrupt.

‘I know what you are about to say,' Evans continued. ‘You believe in the divine right of kings, that a monarchy would improve the lot of the people of France. That is your conviction. Whether a man as ignorant of history and economy as you are has a right to form opinions or convictions is a moot point. We cannot discuss it here. The problem with which we have to deal centres around the death of Ambrose Gring. Gring died from a mild soporific administered by the prefect of police. M. Crayon de Crayon, however, in slipping the .Mickey Finn into Gring's glass thought he was doing the chap a favour, in fact the prefect intended to save the life he unwittingly destroyed. In the case of Heiss and Lourde, the prefect got them out of custody as quickly as he could, fearing any moment that he would be ordered to execute them. Later, they were hanged by de Bellevieu, whose false phone call had trapped de Pussy.

‘That the prefect is implicated in the attempt to smuggle arms into France and to start a bloody revolution is unquestionable. That he will resign before leaving this barge is also unquestionable. He is dangerous because of arrested development and perverse education. Who can say what punishment is just and reasonable for having been born among has-beens and having absorbed their ideas?'

The ambassador, who had been increasingly moved to pity by the prefect's discomfiture, said: ‘Not too brutal, my boy. None of us are any too bright, you know. Make a frightful hash of everything.'

‘Da, da. Another drink. I've just remembered it's my name day. Everyone must drink. I insist on it. We are all unfortunates and sinners. Brandy ! Whisky ! Applejack ! On my saint's day no one must be sad,' bellowed Colonel Kvek.