Arsene Lupin Intervenes

For Barnett had a brain and used it; a sense of humor, and rejoiced in it. He was independent of revolvers and racing cars and hypodermic syringes. He made a confidant of no manÑor woman. He was an unassisted conjurer, as it were, performing his little tricks always in the full glare of the limelight, relying entirely on his own lightning skill to vanish his watches and evolve his rabbits.

A curious, memorable figure, Jim Barnett. By profession, a private detective, principal of the Barnett Agency in the rue Laborde, with a modest ground-floor office for his headquarters. Unlike others of his trade, he worked entirely alone. He employed no spies, and saved himself their possible treachery. He had no secretary for the simple reason that he kept no records. His telephone rang infrequently, and when it did he answered it himself.

In appearance, Barnett was something of a problem. He gave the impression of a man who is wilfully badly dressed, intentionally careless of his attire. His coatÕs sole claim to respect was its indubitable antiquity. His trousersÑbut we will spare possible heartbreak to the tailors who read this description. He wore his incongruous monocle like some exotic bloomÑits startling aristocracy in conjunction with the rest of his get-up was that of an orchid in an onion patch.

What a contrast to his friend, Inspector BŽchoux, that immaculate sprig of the Paris Police Force. BŽchoux was frankly a dandy, devoting all his off-time to the adornment of his person. Yet he was no fool. Only, his brain moved in the channels of detective routine, whereas BarnettÕs leaped nimbly from point to point of a mystery until it plucked out the heart.

Be it said to Inspector BŽchouxÕs undying honor that he recognized BarnettÕs gifts quite openly. He even resorted to asking his help in various problems, and it is the inner history of some of these that this book now reveals for the first time to the world at large.

The peculiar feature of all the BŽchoux-Barnett cases was always either their apparent insolubility (e.g., the Disappearance of the Twelve Little Nigger Boys) or the fact that they seemed solved at the outset (as in the case of the Man with the Gold Teeth). And the finale of each presented certain similar featuresÑa dramatic and quite unexpected eleventh-hour dŽnouement; a swift adjustment of account between the innocent and guilty parties; andÑa highly satisfactory windfall for Barnett.