# The Marathon Mystery/Part 5/Chapter 5
### CHAPTER V
#### A Horror in the Dark

THE necklace; of course, the necklace!
“But then,” I objected after a moment, “if your theory’s correct, we’re going right away from the necklace. You said that Tremaine had hidden it at Edgemere.”
“Yes; but he’s no such fool as to come away and leave it hidden there. He’s not the man to make the mistake Miss Croydon made—to conceal a thing in a place where he can’t get it again without exciting suspicion. No, no; he took the necklace with him to New York; he ran no risk in doing that; everything had happened just as he hoped it would. There was absolutely no suspicion against him.”
“He may have hidden it somewhere else in the meantime,” I observed.
“Yes, he may have done that,” admitted Godfrey; “and yet, why should he? He has no reason to believe that any suspicion attaches to him. He’ll naturally wish to keep the pearls by him until he has a chance to sell them, one by one. He can’t do that yet—he’ll probably arrange a trip to Europe to get rid of them. If the necklace is concealed at all, it’s concealed somewhere in his rooms. And if it’s there, we’ll find it!”
“Long Island City!” yelled the guard, slamming open the door. “Change for New York!”
​We took the Thirty-fourth Street ferry, and ten minutes later were in a cab hurrying downtown.
“We’ll get Simmonds first,” said Godfrey. “I’ve a sort of reciprocity treaty with him. Besides, we’ve got to have an officer to make the arrest. Here we are.”
He jumped out, paid the driver, and hastened up the steps, I after him. As we entered the room, I saw that a clock registered half-past ten.
“Hello, Simmonds,” said Godfrey, to a grizzled, stockily built man, who had sprung to his feet as we entered. “All alone?”
“Yes—the other boys have turned in.”
“That’s good—I’ve got something big for you.”
Simmonds’s face flushed with sudden emotion.
“Really?” he stammered. “Have you really?”
“The biggest catch that’s been made in many a day. But remember our agreement—yours the glory, mine the scoop. Not a word of this to anybody before daybreak.”
“Of course not; of course not,” assented Simmonds, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “What is it?”
“You’ve read about that murder and robbery at the Delroy place near Babylon?”
“Yes, certainly; they’ve got the murderer in jail down there.”
“No, they haven’t,” retorted Godfrey sharply. “We’re going to have him in jail here inside of twenty minutes.”
Simmonds’s eyes began to glisten.
“That would be a big thing,” he said. “Are you sure of the man?”
​“Dead sure; but see here, Simmonds, I haven’t time to tell you the whole story now; only I assure you, on my word, that I’ve evidence against the man which will convict him of one murder and perhaps of two. Is that enough?”
“Yes,” said Simmonds instantly, and he opened a drawer, from which he took a pistol and a pair of handcuffs. “All right,” he added, turning back to us.
“That’s good! Better have a lantern, too, though.”
“Think so?”
He took down a little dark lantern, lighted it, tested it, and put it in his pocket.
“Now I’m ready. Have we far to go?”
“Oh, no; just across the street.”
Simmonds started with astonishment “You don’t mean the Marathon!” he said.
“Just that.”
“But who is it we’re going after?”
“A fellow named Tremaine.”
“Tremaine!” Simmonds’s face grew blanker and blanker. “Why, I know him; he’s been in here to see me. He doesn’t seem at all the kind of fellow who would——”
“So ho!” cried Godfrey. “It was you who told him about the clippings!”
Simmonds coloured to the eyes.
“Who told you that?” he stammered.
“No matter; it didn’t do any harm; played right into our hands, in fact. But you didn’t show your usual perspicacity there, Simmonds. That fellow is the most remarkable scoundrel I’ve ever run ​across—perhaps it’s just as well I never met him, or he’d have hypnotised me, too. Come along.”
Simmonds followed meekly. Evidently he felt his indiscretion deeply; though I didn’t think him greatly to blame. Who, to look at him, would have conceived any suspicion of Tremaine? Even yet, I found it difficult to believe him guilty of any crime; this chain which Godfrey had so laboriously forged about him-would it really hold-was it really strong in every link? Or was there some fatal weakness in it, some unsuspected flaw…
Higgins was just shutting the inner doors. He recognized Simmonds at once.
“Hello,” he said; “what’s up now? No more murders, I hope?”
“Do you know whether or not Mr. Tremaine is in his rooms?” asked Godfrey.
“Yes, sir; he went up about an hour ago.”
“You have a key to his door?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We want you to go up with us and open the door.”
“Oh, come!” protested Higgins. “That’s going it pretty strong. What’s Mr. Tremaine done?”
“No matter. There’s no use holding off, Higgins. Simmonds here can place you under arrest and force you to go.”
“Well, see here,” said Higgins, turning a little pale, “if you break in on him like that, there’s apt t’ be some bullets flyin’ around—he’s hot-headed, he is! I wish you’d excuse me. Here’s the key—why can’t you open th’ door yourself?”
​“That ’ll do,” assented Godfrey, and took the key. “Now, you stay down here.”
“No fear,” said Higgins promptly. “Though,” he added gloomily, “mebbe I’d better telephone fer some ambulances.”
We went softly up the stair and down the dimly lighted corridor to Tremaine’s door. We could see by the transom that the room was dark.
“I want to surprise him,” whispered Godfrey. “If he has two or three minutes’ warning, he may be able to get rid of some evidence. He’s probably in bed and we must get to the bedroom door without his hearing us. How does the bedroom door lie, Lester, with reference to this one?”
“Straight ahead,” I answered hoarsely.
“That’s good; are you ready?”
“Yes,” said Simmonds, and cocked his revolver.
As for me, I grasped my stick more firmly, glad that it was a stout one.
“All right,” said Godfrey, and he threw back the bolt and opened the door.
The room was in absolute darkness, save for the dim stream of light from the hall. We entered cautiously, Godfrey in the lead.
“Have your lantern ready, Simmonds,” he whispered, and I caught the odour of heated metal as Simmonds obeyed the order.
Two, three, four steps we advanced, feeling our way—then I heard a startled cry from Godfrey—an instant’s pause…
“Quick, Simmonds, quick!” he cried, in a stifled voice. “The lantern!”
​Instantly a brilliant band of light shot across the room, wavered, wagged to and fro—then settled upon Godfrey bending above some shapeless object on the floor.
“What is it?” I cried, running to him, shivering with horror.
“It’s Tremaine,” and he knelt on the floor and stripped back the clothing from the breast “He’s dead,” he added after a moment.
“Dead? But why? How?”
He was in pajamas—I can see them yet—striped blue and white…
Then I heard Godfrey’s voice again.
“My God!” he was saying, with an accent of utter horror. “My God! Bring the light closer, Simmonds!”
I looked down, too. The face was in bright relief now—but was it Tremaine? Could it be Tremaine? That staring, distorted thing, with wide-open mouth? Then my eyes fell on the hand, clasped across the breast…
“What is it?” I asked again, inarticulately, frozen with dread. “What has happened?”
I saw Godfrey stand erect with a sudden movement of loathing.
“It’s the fer-de-lance!” he said hoarsely. “He’s been bitten by it. And it’s still loose in the room somewhere!”