CHAPTER V
THE HOUND AND THE SCENT
The next morning at a trifle past nine, Bat Scanlon once more presentedhimself in Ashton-Kirk's study. He found the investigator attired in awell-fitting suit of rough, gray material; a light stick and a cap layupon a table, while their owner, his hands deep in his trousers pockets,paced the floor.
"I've been through a half dozen newspapers since breakfast," said he."The reporters and the city editors have had a great deal to say aboutwhat they call the 'Stanwick Mystery'; but they have unearthed nothingthat's at all suggestive."
"Not a thing," verified Bat. "At least, nothing that I haven't seen orheard myself--except that the sick girl--Mary Burton--has taken to herbed."
"That's bad," said his friend. "But, you see, the arrest of her brotherwas sure to have some such effect."
"Well, it's turned a little trick for me, anyway," said Bat "The girlbeing suddenly taken down has got to Nora; and she called me thismorning to talk about it. She's going down there this afternoon. It washer own idea. And so I won't have to do any 'under cover' stuff withher."
"Good," said the investigator. "It's always much better to have a thingcome about naturally, if possible."
A big motor car waited for them at the door; it carried them swiftly outof the city proper into the suburb of Stanwick, and finally drew up infront of 620 Duncan Street.
The same policeman stood at the gate who had guarded it the day before.
"Hello, back again!" he saluted at sight of Scanlon.
"Yes; thought another look would do no harm," returned Bat. "Any oneinside?"
"Osborne's there," replied the policeman. "But no one else--outside thefamily."
"Were you present when young Burton was arrested?" asked Ashton-Kirk.
"A little," grinned the policeman, "seeing as I was the party whobrought him out to the wagon."
"Did he have anything to say when accused?"
"Not much. He didn't seem surprised, though. Osborne says to him: 'We'llhave to hold you in this case till we get further evidence.' And hesays: 'I didn't do it. If I had thought of it, maybe I would. But Ididn't do it.'"
The investigator and Bat Scanlon walked up the path; as they reachedthe door, it was opened for them, and they saw the burly form of Osbornestanding in the hall.
"How are you?" greeted the headquarters man, good-humoredly. "Saw youfrom the window, and felt so honored that I'm letting you in myself." Heshook Ashton-Kirk by the hand, warmly enough. "Kind of a surprise to seeyou down here."
The two men entered and the door closed behind them; then they madetheir way into the sitting-room, following Osborne. The body of themurdered man was no longer there; the rug stiffened with blood was gone;the room was now quiet and conventional--a peaceful calm filled it.
Ashton-Kirk's keen glance went about; he talked steadily to Osborne allthe while, but Bat Scanlon observed that not a single detail of theapartment escaped him. The headquarters man wore a look of frankcuriosity as he, too, watched the investigator, and saw him fixing theposition of things in his mind.
"Just where did the body lie when the policeman arrived on the night ofthe crime?" he asked.
"Right here," and Osborne indicated the spot "The head was here. Thewound was made with a candlestick--quite a heavy one; and the blow wasmeant to stop the victim for good."
"Any further marks on him besides the one on the head?"
"No," said Osborne. "We looked for something of that kind, but there wasnone."
Ashton-Kirk went to a window overlooking the stretch of green sod at theside of the house.
"I understand you found the candlestick just under this?"
"Yes. The window was a little open; and I guess, after he'd finished thejob, the murderer wanted to get rid of the weapon. So he dropped itoutside."
"Nothing to be had here," said Ashton-Kirk, after a few moments' studyof the sitting-room. "At least not just now."
He threw up the window and stepped out, followed by Scanlon; standingupon the paved walk the investigator looked about. The Burton house,like the others on Duncan Street, sat fairly in the center of a plot ofground perhaps two hundred feet square. Along the division fence betweenthat and the next house was a stretch of smooth sod, with grass, stillgreen. At one place upon this was a sort of rose arbor, the browned,hardy shoots of a perennial twining thickly around it.
"There have been a half dozen policemen walking about here," saidAshton-Kirk, pointing to the soft earth under the window. "And that isfatal to any sort of close work, even had there been anything in thefirst place."
However, in spite of this, he went over every yard of the space aboutthe house; at the rose arbor he paused.
"Directly in line with the sitting-room window," he said. "No doubtyoung Burton placed it with that in mind; the invalid sister would loveto see the roses in early summer."
He walked behind the structure, and then Bat Scanlon saw him pausesuddenly and bend over, rigid with eagerness.
"What is it?" asked the big man.
For answer the criminologist pointed to the ground; sharply indented inthe sod were the marks of a small, high heeled shoe; and Scanlon stoodstaring at them perplexed.
"What do they signify?" asked he. "There are likely to be footprints allover the place--male and female. I'll venture to say that half theresidents of the street have been prowling about in this space since themurder was done."
"That is a possibility always to be guarded against," said Ashton-Kirk,quietly. "But there has been a policeman on guard all the time, so, yousee, the chances are greatly reduced." He studied the narrow imprintswith great care; they were firmly pressed into the damp sod, the highheels making a decided puncture. "The night before last was a brightone," he added, finally, as he straightened up and looked at Scanlon."At about the time the murder was committed the moon hung about there,full and unobstructed, if you remember. Now, suppose you, for somesecret reason, entered the grounds at that time. The whole space on thisside was flooded with light; and yet you desired to get a view of whatwas going on in the sitting-room; at the same time you were most anxiousnot to be seen. What would you be most likely to do?"
Scanlon looked around and considered.
"About the only thing to do in a case like that," said he, "would be totake cover behind this rose arbor."
"Right!" approved the investigator. "And now, consider: once behind it,the only place from which you could fully overlook the window desiredwould be here," indicating a certain spot; "the vine has 'made wood' tooheavily at all the other points to permit of uninterrupted vision. Andright here, you will notice these footprints are the most oftenrepeated; they are also deeper, showing that the woman, whoever she was,stood here for some little time."
Scanlon was impressed; but at the same time there was a dubious look inhis eye.
"A woman _did_ stand there," he agreed; "and maybe she was looking in atthe window. But what do you draw from that?"
Ashton-Kirk smiled.
"Nothing--as yet. We'll just note the fact, old chap, and pass on to thenext. Later we'll put the two together, and see if any meaning is to behad from the combination."
He was silent after that, moving here and there over the ground, hishead bent and his attention fixed. Scanlon chuckled as he watched him,and marveled at the similarity between the movements of his friend andthose of a thoroughbred hound.
"And almost with his nose to the ground," observed Bat. "He's so fixedin what he's doing that the European war could move into the nextcounty, and he'd never know it."
Once more the investigator came to a stop; from beneath the divisionfence where the grass was rather long, he picked a shining object whichat once brought Bat Scanlon to his side.
"A revolver!" exclaimed the big man, amazed.
"EVERY CHAMBER LOADED"]
"With every chamber loaded," said the investigator. "It's a Smith andWesson; it's of a small calibre, commonly called a 'ladies' revolver.'"
"Funny how it got
there, ain't it?" said Bat. "For it couldn't have hadanything to do with the killing of the 'Bounder,' seeing that he passedout through being bumped with a candlestick."
"Nevertheless," said Ashton-Kirk, as he slipped the weapon into hispocket, "the thing being here, and at this time, is ratherinteresting."
He proceeded with his inspection of the ground, striking off toward thefront of the house as though following a trail. Bat lost sight of himfor a few moments; then, as he, too, reached the front of the house, hesaw the other standing, his hands in his pockets, a puzzled look on hisface.
"Well," said Scanlon, "what now?"
"Suppose we have a look at the other side of the building," replied theother.
Here the police had also done some going to and fro; the broad foot ofOsborne was distinctly marked everywhere.
"And here is the sergeant's," said Ashton-Kirk, pointing. "Thepoliceman's shoe is not to be mistaken, and Sergeant Nailor always wearssoles that have been pegged."
Under one of the windows the investigator came to a halt. It was awindow smaller than any of the others and much higher in the wall.Beneath it was a cellar opening with an iron grating.
"Look there," said the investigator, as he pointed to this latter.
Bat Scanlon looked, and saw a little ridge of mud upon one of the bars.
"From some one's foot," declared he. "It scraped off on the grating whenthey climbed up on it, maybe to reach the window."
Ashton-Kirk studied the particles clinging to the bar with muchinterest, an eager look in his eyes.
"It may be a coincidence," said he, "but I'm inclined to think not."
"What may be a coincidence?" asked Scanlon, as the other carefullyscraped the particles from the grading into a compartment of a paperfold. But Ashton-Kirk made no reply except:
"Give me a 'boost' up to that window."
The big man obediently did so; on the ledge were the marks of fingers inthe dust which damp had caused to stick there.
"And newly done," said Ashton-Kirk, as he dropped to the ground, a glintin his eye. "Very little dust has attached itself since they were made."
He began searching the surface of the ground under the window; finallyhe took a strong lens from his pocket and with increased interestresumed the inspection.
"Very likely one of the cops did this," said Scanlon. "Wanted to see ifthe window was fast."
Ashton-Kirk got up from his stooping position and slipped the lens backinto his pocket.
"They would have tried the window from the inside in that case," saidhe. "It would have been easier to get at." He stood for a moment,reflecting; then he continued: "There seems to be very little more to behoped for. Let us speak to Osborne before we go."
The big headquarters man was in the room across the hall from the onein which the crime had been committed.
"Well, all through?" he asked, genially, and with the manner of onewhose position is assured.
"Yes, I think so," said Ashton-Kirk.
"We covered it all pretty well outside there," nodded Osborne,complacently, "and we got nothing from it. Depend on it, this thing wasan inside job. The party that did it belonged right here in the house."
"Too bad," mused Ashton-Kirk, as he looked about the comfortable,homelike room. "Too bad! That will mean that another home is wrecked;and this one seems decidedly worth keeping together--nice etching andrugs and some very good bits of old brass." He took up a candlestickfrom the end of a shelf. "Here is a real old Colonial candlestick whichmust weigh at least five pounds."
Osborne looked at the piece, grimly.
"If Tom Burton were alive," said he, "he might be able to tell yousomething about the weight of such things. It was with just such anotherhe was killed."
"Oh, indeed!" Ashton-Kirk replaced the candlestick upon the shelf anddusted his fingers with a handkerchief. "Well, we'll be running along,Osborne." They shook hands with the detective. "Sorry we hadn't anybetter luck."
"So am I," said Osborne, still complacently. "But it breaks that waysometimes. We can't turn up new stuff where it doesn't exist."
"True," said Ashton-Kirk, as he descended from the porch to the pavedwalk. "That's very true. But thank you just the same. And good-bye."
And so with Scanlon at his side, he set off at a smart pace toward therailroad station.