IX
GEORGE LAWRENCE
The implication was awful, monstrous, and yet--there it was. Since, asJanet said, she put the chain on, and since it had been found still onby Charlotte in the morning, certainly no one could have entered theapartment during the night by that door. And as the apartment was theduplicate of our own, I knew there was no other door. There was no rearentrance, and the dumb-waiter closed with a snap lock on the kitchenside.
The inspector stated that the windows had evidently been securelyfastened through the night. Those in the sleeping-rooms, which werepartly opened for ventilation, were secured by a burglar-proof device,which fastened them at any desired point, leaving ample room for air,but far too small a space for a human being to pass through. Thus thepossibility of an intruder was eliminated, and, granting that, who hadkilled Mr. Pembroke?
Logically speaking, it must have been some one already in the apartment,and the other occupants numbered but two. It didn't seem that it couldhave been Charlotte; and my mind refused even a hint of a thought ofJanet in that connection; and yet--who?
As I sat stunned, I vaguely saw that some one had raised Miss Pembroke,and that Laura had once more taken her in charge.
I looked at the hard, impassive face of the coroner, and, like a flash,I realized that he believed Janet guilty, and that was why he hadquestioned her along the line he did.
He meant to prove first motive and then exclusive opportunity! I, as alawyer, followed the workings of his mind, and understood at last hisrigorous catechism of the poor girl.
Janet guilty! Why, it was simply a contradiction of terms. That girl wasno more capable of---- Then I remembered her manner that had so puzzledme. But that she could explain, of course. As to exclusive opportunity,that was mere foolishness. I remembered the chained door, but of coursethere must have been other ways of ingress to a professional burglar. Ihastily thought over the windows of our own apartment. There were threelarge front ones on Sixty-second Street, and the others were all onair-shafts or a fire-escape.
Ah, that was it--the fire-escape!
Then I remembered the inspector's statement. Had there been a possibleway to get in that house that night, surely he would have found it. Thatwould not require very clever detective work.
Suddenly a thought struck me, which turned my heart to ice. It was I whohad first testified that the chain was on the door when Charlotte openedit that morning! If I had not mentioned it, perhaps no one would havethought of it, and it would have been assumed that the criminal forcedhis way in at the front door.
That would have left a loophole for doubt. Now they said there was none.Oh, how could I have been so stupid as to tell of that chain? I whodesired only to serve and assist the woman I loved--I had done the onething, said the one word, that gave those men reason to say she had"exclusive opportunity"!
That, then, was why Doctor Masterson had looked so perturbed at mytestimony. That was why he was worried and nervous at Charlotte'smention of the chain. That was why he looked relieved when Lauracompleted her account without referring to that awful bit of evidence.
And why didn't Laura refer to it? Perhaps she thought it would be apoint which couldn't be explained, which was as inexplicable to her asto me, but which no more proved Miss Pembroke guilty than it proved theangels in heaven to be criminals.
Janet had regained consciousness, but still lay on the couch, withclosed eyes, and the inexorable coroner called George Lawrence.
The young man seemed to be controlling himself by a mighty effort.
"I see your implication," he said to the coroner, "and I want you toretract it. My cousin, Miss Pembroke, is incapable of such a thing asyou hint, and the mere fact of a chained front door does not precludeother modes of housebreaking. I am by no means sure the windows were allsecurely fastened last night. Indeed, I am forced to believe they werenot, since somebody came in and killed my uncle, and it was not mycousin Janet."
"There has been no accusation," said the coroner coldly. "Will you nowgive us your testimony?"
"I can tell you nothing to throw any light on the mystery," said GeorgeLawrence, who was, apparently, holding himself well in hand. "I calledhere yesterday afternoon between five and six. My uncle was very crossand grumpy, and gave me no pleasant word while I was here. He was notat that time definitely angry, but merely testy and irritable. I talkedfor a time with Janet, and went away about six.
"Where did you go then?"
"I went back to my own apartment in Washington Square."
"And then?"
"I dressed, and went to dine with some friends in Sixtieth street. Ofcourse this can be verified."
Lawrence spoke with an air of superciliousness, almost contempt, at thisdetailed questioning, but the Coroner looked at him impassively.
"We are not doubting your word," he said; "you spent the evening at thehouse where you dined?"
"Yes; I left there at eleven o'clock, and then I went directly home. Ireached my apartment at eleven twenty-five."
"How do you know the time so exactly?"
"I happen to be sure of the hour, because the hall boy told me the timeby the office clock. He then took me up in the elevator, and I went atonce to my rooms. I slept all night, and had not yet left my bedroomwhen my cousin telephoned for me this morning. That is my story, and, asI said, it throws no light on the case. But light shall be thrown onthe case, if I have to move heaven and earth to have it thrown. Thismystery shall be solved and my cousin freed from the slightest taint ofthis absurd suspicion!"
I had liked George Lawrence from the first, and this outburst of loyaltyto his cousin quite won my heart. It was no more than he ought to havefelt, but his spontaneous enthusiasm charmed me. I determined to add myefforts to his own, and it would go hard if between us we did not bringthe evil-doer to justice.
I admired the appearance of the young man. Of an athletic type, thoughperhaps not specially trained, he was well set up, and had that assuredair that belongs to so many young New York men.
He especially exhibited self-possession and self-control, and thoughperhaps he gave more the effect of physical force than of mentalstrength, yet to my mind he showed bravery and courage both in mannerand speech.
Though in no way conspicuous, his clothes were correct, and hung well onhis rather graceful figure. Although I had heard he was an artist, heshowed no trace of Bohemianism in his make-up. He was rather, it seemedto me, of the type that frequents our best clubs or restaurants.
But what I liked best about the man was his very evident affection andloyalty toward his cousin. As the coroner had said, there had been nodefinite accusation, and yet it was plain to be seen that as theevidence seemed to point toward either the guilt or the complicity ofJanet Pembroke, the jurymen were being influenced by it.
The coroner asked George more questions.
"You carry a latch-key to this apartment?" he asked.
"Yes. I lived here until a few months ago, and I've still kept the key.I go in and out as I like. The chain is never put on in the daytime."
"Is it always on at night?"
"Yes. When I lived here I was usually the last one in at night, and Iput on the chain. Since I left, my cousin has told me that she alwaysputs it on when she retires at night."
"You did not get on well with your uncle?"
"I did not. It was because of his bad temper that I went away to live bymyself. I hoped, too, that if I were not here to anger him, which Ioften did, he might be more gentle to Janet."
"Did it turn out that way?"
"I fear not, to any considerable extent. I think he could not controlhis temper, even if he tried, and it was his custom to vent his wrath onwhomever happened to be nearest."
"You also knew of the conditions of your uncle's will?"
"Yes. It was no secret. He had always told us we two were his soleheirs, but, though he seemed willing to leave us his money, he was notgenerous with it while alive."
"What is your business, Mr. Lawrence?"
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"I am an artist--or, at least, an illustrator. I make pictures for booksand magazines."
"You find it lucrative?"
"Sufficiently so. My tastes are not extravagant, and I earn enough by mywork to gratify my simple ambitions. I trust I shall make a worthy useof my inheritance, but I had hoped not to come into it for many yearsyet."
This last remark jarred on me. I didn't want to think the young manhypocritical, and yet that attitude as to his inheritance seemed to menot quite ingenuous.
"Did Robert Pembroke have any enemy that you know of?"
"Not that I know of definitely, and none that I would suspect of crime.But I know very little of my uncle's business affairs or hisacquaintances. He was not at all communicative, and I was not curiousabout such matters."
"He had callers occasionally?"
"Yes."
"Of what sort?"
"Business men, his lawyer, various agents who transacted business forhim, and sometimes strangers who came to ask contributions forcharitable purposes, or perhaps to interest him in financial schemes."
"He always saw these visitors?"
"Yes; Mr. Pembroke was always ready to see any one who called. Isuppose, as he never went out, it provided diversion and entertainmentfor him."
"He always treated them politely?"
"Perhaps not that, but he was decent to them. However, he frequentlyused them as targets for his ill temper."
"They resented this?"
"That depended on their errand. If they were asking favors, they werenaturally more patient than if they were there to transact my uncle'sbusiness."
"Your uncle also vented his ill-temper on his servants, I understand?"
"He certainly did. No servant ever staid very long in his employ."
"Can you think of any servant who has lived with him who might beimplicated in this crime?"
George Lawrence paused, and seemed to be thinking over the line ofservants who had come and gone. At last he shook his head; "Notdefinitely," he said. "I don't remember them individually. But therewere several who were so badly treated by my uncle that it would not besurprising if they had held revengeful thoughts toward him. However, Icould not go so far as to accuse any one of them."
"And you can't throw any light on these various articles collected fromMr. Pembroke's bedroom, and which we hope will prove to be clues to thediscovery of the criminal."
Although the Coroner's words were straightforward enough, the glance hecast on the various articles I had laid before him, proved that he hadlittle serious hope of assistance from them.
George Lawrence was even more plainly of an opinion that they werevalueless. He glanced at them with an air of utter indifference, saying:"I really know nothing of them, I assure you."
"You have no idea who is the J. S. who signed his initials to thistelegram?"
To my surprise, and I doubt not, also to the surprise of all present,George Lawrence turned to his cousin and smiled. It was a flashingsmile, as if caused by a humorous thought, and it seemed so out of keywith the proceedings, that it jarred on my sense of the fitness ofthings.
But I was even more surprised when Miss Pembroke flashed back ananswering smile, showing entire comprehension of her cousin's meaning.
"You know something of the matter," affirmed the coroner, looking alittle annoyed at the attitude of his witness.
"I am not sure that I do," said Lawrence, "but I will tell you what isin my mind. For many years my uncle lived in fear of a personage whom hecalled J. S. Though rarely in humorous mood, my uncle would sometimesmake jesting references to this J. S., as if he were in fear of him.When we asked him what name the initials stood for, he told us JohnStrong, but told us in such a way that he gave us clearly to understandthat was not the real name of J. S. And so we came to look upon JohnStrong as a sort of mythical personage, and as the only one of whom myuncle was afraid. He has sometimes said to us, 'J. S. will catch me yet,if I'm not careful,' or, 'J. S. must never know of this.' It is ouropinion, though uncorroborated by any known facts, that this man wasonce a partner of my uncle in business."
"A long time ago?"
"Yes; many years ago. These matters should be explained to you by myuncle's lawyer, but since he is not here, I will tell you what I know ofthis thing, though it is not much. As nearly as I could piece ittogether from the few hints my uncle let fall, I gathered that he andthis J. S. bought a cotton plantation together, many years ago. At firstthe investment was unsuccessful. Then my uncle bought out John Strong'sshare, and after that the property became exceedingly valuable. I amperfectly sure my uncle dealt justly by his partner so far as thelegality of the transaction was concerned. But John Strong seemed tothink that my uncle was under a sort of moral obligation to give him aportion of the later profits. Now this is all I know about it, and I amnot sure that these details are quite accurate. But I do know that thepartner's name was not really John Strong, and that my uncle used thatname because the man had a strong hold over him in some way."
"But you think the partner's initials were J. S.?"
"I think so, yes; but I am not sure."
"You have never seen the man?"
"Not to my knowledge. My uncle often had callers who were strangers tomy cousin and myself."
"This matter seems to me to be important," said the Coroner, lookingagain at the telegram which was signed J. S.; "This message is datedyesterday and advised Mr. Pembroke to 'expect J. S. tonight,' that is,last evening. It certainly must be looked into."
"It certainly should," agreed George Lawrence. "When you have asevidence a telegram from a man known to be an enemy, it seems as if itought to be investigated."
"But, on the other hand," went on the Coroner, looking very serious, "weknow that this J. S. did not come last evening, in accordance with hisannouncement. We have Miss Pembroke's evidence, in addition to that ofthe servant, that there was no caller here last evening. Then after MissPembroke put the night-chain on the door and retired, there was nopossibility of the entrance of an intruder. Therefore, we are bound toconclude that J. S. did not keep his engagement with Mr. Pembroke,--ifindeed this is a genuine message from him."
At this remark of the Coroner's I looked aghast. He had practically casta doubt on the genuineness of the telegram, and this implied that it wasmanufactured evidence, and so pointed to deeper and more complicatedvillainy than the crime itself. Moreover Mr. Ross's face expressedincredulity at the whole story of the mythical John Strong.
I was indignant at this, for the very frankness with which Lawrence toldthe story, the unmistakable approval and agreement of Janet in all thathe said, and the slightly amused air of both of them all seemed to me toprove that the John Strong episode, whether important or not, whetherfor or against the cause I had espoused, was at least a true story, andhonestly set forth.
But there was no doubt that the Coroner, the Inspector, and the Jurymen,took views entirely opposite to my own.
"I have heard your story, Mr. Lawrence," Mr. Ross said, calmly, "and thejurors have heard it It is recommended to their thoughtfulconsideration. The telegram signed J. S., may or may not be from thisperson whom you call John Strong, but whose name you say is somethingdifferent. However as this person did not call last evening before MissPembroke put the chain on the front door, and as he could not haveentered this apartment afterward, I cannot feel that we should attachgreat importance to this message. The evidence given goes to prove thatthe crime must have been committed after eleven o'clock last night, and,in the opinion of the doctors, by or before midnight. This narrows thetime down to a very definite hour, and we see that the deed must havetaken place shortly after Miss Pembroke had retired for the night."
George Lawrence was then excused from the witness stand, the inquest wasclosed, and the jurors dismissed to consider their verdict.