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  CHAPTER XIV

  Penny Wise

  When Richard set out to do a thing, he did it, and without consultinganybody he went at once for Pennington Wise, the detective, and by goodluck, succeeding in obtaining the services of that astute investigator.

  Bates told him the whole story, and Wise saw at once that though theyoung man was fearful of his aunt's implication in the matter, he waseven more alarmed at the idea of his sweetheart's mother being broughtinto it.

  "I look at it this way," Bates said; "Mrs Everett and Miss Prall are sobitterly at enmity, that either of them would be willing to further asuspicion of the other. I know neither was really guilty----"

  "Wait a minute," put in Wise, "how do you know that?"

  "Oh, I know they couldn't be! They're--they're ladies----"

  "That doesn't deny the possibility,--what else?"

  "Why,--they,--oh, they're women,--women couldn't do a thing like that!"

  "But, 'women' did do it,--according to your story."

  "Of course; but it must have been a lower class of women,--not ladies,like my aunt and Mrs Everett."

  "Is that 'feud' of which you've told me, a distinctly ladylikeperformance?"

  "No; it isn't. It's a----"

  "I gather, from your report of it, it's a regular old-fashionedhair-pulling sort of feminine spitefulness."

  "That's just what it is; and it is in bad taste and all that sort ofthing. But murder! That's different!"

  "Of course it's different, and must be treated differently. If youraunt's name is so much as hinted at in connection with crime, you mustclear it,--if possible. Here we have a murder,--a mysterious murder. Thepolice have been notified, that puts it into the public's hands. Youcan't afford to hold back anything now. Nor can you afford to conceal orgloss over anything. That would be to invite suspicion. Absolutefrankness on your part and on the part of your aunt is imperative."

  "You'll get it from me, but Solomon himself couldn't understand my auntif she chose to be secretive."

  "Why should she be secretive?"

  "Oh, it's such a mix-up, Mr Wise. You'll see when you meet the twowomen. Either of them would do or say anything,--anything at all, if itwould annoy or disturb the other."

  "I think I understand, but I think I can discriminate between the truthand the pretense."

  "You'll be pretty smart if you can," Richard sighed. "But get busy assoon as possible. Can you get over to-day?"

  "Yes; and I must bring my assistant,--a young lady."

  "You're to use Sir Herbert Binney's rooms. Where shall I put the girl?"

  "Is there a matron or housekeeper? Yes? Then the girl will attend to allthat herself. Don't bother."

  "All right, I won't. Now, see here, Mr Wise, I want you to get at thetruth, of course, but--if it leads----"

  "Stop right there, Mr Bates. If I take this case, it's to get the truth,no matter where it leads. You've mentioned the two women most importantin your life,--oh, yes, I see the importance of Mrs Everett. You are,you must be, interested in her daughter, for you showed it in your facewhen you spoke her name. Now, so far, I've nothing to connect those twowomen with the case, except that they are women, and the written paperaccuses women. I believe that paper implicitly. I've had wide experienceand no word of his murderer left by a dying victim is ever anything butthe truth. I must see the paper as soon as I can; it may be informative.But, remember, the processes of justice are inexorable,--where the truthleads, I must follow, absolutely irrespective of personal prejudice."

  "If you're sure it _is_ the truth----"

  "Right. I must be sure, beyond all doubt. And I will be before I makeany important decisions. You are sole heir?"

  "Yes, except for some minor bequests."

  "Suspicion hasn't attacked you?"

  Bates started at the question, but Pennington Wise seemed to think it acasual one, so Richard replied, frankly, "No, it hasn't,--and I ratherexpected it."

  "Yes, it would not be strange. While, as I say, I believe, so far as Iknow now, that women killed him, yet others may feel the written messageis faked."

  "Oh, it's positively Sir Herbert's writing; it doesn't need an expert tosee that."

  "Were it not for the message, I should be inclined to look into hisbusiness relations."

  "I think that's the reason he wrote the note. My uncle was a quickthinker, and I can see how, knowing he must die, he did all he could toassist justice. I've no doubt he realized that attention would be turnedtoward men, and he wrote the truth, as far as he had strength to do so,in order to facilitate the work of his avengers. Without doubt he wasintending to write the names of his murderers when his muscles or hisbrain power gave out."

  "That's the way I see it, but I can't be sure till I see the paper.There are many motives for murder, but they can all be classed asaffairs of the heart, the mind or the purse. The first class takes inall love interests; the second, business deals, and the third, robbery.The last, I understand, we may eliminate; the second seems to be knockedout by that message, and we come back to some affair of the heart, whichmay not be love, but jealousy, revenge or a sudden, impulsive quarrel.To look for the women is not an easy task, but it is a help to bestarted in the right direction."

  And so, Penny Wise established himself in the comfortable rooms latelyoccupied by the victim of the crime he was to investigate, and Zizi, hiscapable and picturesque assistant, found her quarters in the domain ofthe housekeeper.

  Mrs Macey was a shrewd, capable woman, or she would not have beenhousekeeper at The Campanile. She looked in cold disdain at the glowinglittle face of the girl who unceremoniously invaded her room, and staredwith increasing interest as the visitor talked.

  "You see," Zizi said, nodding her correctly hatted little head, "I'vejust simply got to be taken in somewhere in the house, and it might aswell be here. I'm too young to have an apartment by myself, and I'llpromise you won't regret any 'small kindnesses' you may show me. Infact, Mr Pennington Wise, my sponsor in baptism, is the greatestrememberer of small kindnesses you ever saw!"

  "My goodness!" remarked Mrs Macey, dazzled by the girl's beauty andanimation, and bewildered by her insistent manner.

  "Yep," sauced Zizi, with her irresistible smile, "it's your goodnessthat'll turn the trick. I'll confide to you that I'm here on business,most important secret business, and if your goodness pans out well andyou put me up properly, you'll be what is known as handsomely rewarded.So, which is my room?"

  The girl whirled through a doorway and spied a neat little bedroom."This'll do," she said, and setting down her small handbag proceeded topush things around on the dresser and fling her gloves and veil into adrawer, then with what was indubitably a farewell smile, she gentlypushed Mrs Macey out, and closed the door after her, pausing only tosay, "You've good horse sense,--use it."

  "So far, so good," commented Zizi, to her pretty reflection in themirror. "That woman's a joy. Easily managed, but full of initiative.Just the sort I like."

  She flew around, adjusting the appointments to suit her taste; shetelephoned downstairs for her further luggage to be sent up, and soonshe was as fully established in the room as if she had been there weeks.

  "And now," she spoke finally to the pretty girl in her mirror, "I shallsally forth, as they call it, and see what's what in The Campanile."

  Her progress through the house was so inconspicuous and casual that noone noticed her especially. It was Zizi's forte to go around unnoticed,when she chose. Though she could, on the other hand, make a decidedstir, merely by her appearance.

  A slender wisp of a girl, black of hair and eyes, demure withoutself-consciousness, and gentle-mannered, she glided here and there asshe listed and none said her nay. She quickly learned the location ofrooms and people, the ways of the house and certain of its tenants, and,without effort, made friends with elevator girls and other employees.

  She arrived at last at the Binney rooms, now occupied by Wise.

  He was not in then and she found a chambermaid dusti
ng about.

  "I belong here," Zizi said, quietly. "I am Mr Wise's assistant; and, ashe has doubtless already told you, you are not to chatter about him ormyself. We are here on important business matters and if you carry talesyou will get into serious trouble. Do you see?"

  "Yes, miss," said the woman, impressed by Zizi's air of wisdom andauthority. "Mr Wise told me the same."

  "Very well, then; go on with your work."

  Zizi began forthwith to study the rooms. She found little of interest,for Sir Herbert had lived in them but a few months and had not cared toadd any personal comforts or luxuries to those provided by themanagement. Therefore, the appointments were the conventional ones offurnished apartments, and were quickly passed over by the girl, who waslooking for stray bits of evidence.

  She didn't go through the papers and letters still on the writing table,for she felt sure they had been examined over and over by the policedetectives and probably by Wise himself.

  She was musing when the detective came in.

  "Caught on to anything, Zizi?" he asked.

  "Nope; that is, only one small hint of a possible question to beasked,--later. Where are you?"

  "Progressing with the opening chapter. That's about all. But it's acorker of a case. I've seen the paper left by the dying man, and I'dstake my reputation that it's the real thing. I mean that it is thedying statement of a murdered man, and was written in a desperate effortto help along the discovery of his murderers. If he'd only been able togo on with it and tell the names!"

  "Then there wouldn't have been any case, and we wouldn't be here. Go on,Wiseacre."

  "Well, the two women at feud,--I told you of them,--are great! MissPrall, spinster, and aggressively unmarried, loathes and despises MrsEverett, a fascinating widow."

  "Fascinating to whom."

  "Dunno. Except to herself. But she's the dressy sort and is a blondecat, while the Prall person is--well, I understand they call her theGrenadier."

  "Who calls her that?"

  "Dunno. It's in the air."

  "How about these two women being the women meant on the paper message?"

  "No. I thought of that, but I can't see yet how they could have joinedforces, even though they both wanted the old chap out of the way. Norcan I connect them with the case separately,--as yet. But it seems to methat one faction or the other must be at fault, for there are no otherwomen on the horizon."

  "Chorus girls? Elevator girls?"

  "I can't see it. To be sure, I've only dipped into things so far, butthe crime is so skillfully planned and carried out----"

  "It might have been impulsive and unpremeditated----"

  "At the time it happened, yes. I mean, it may not have been planned forthat moment, but it was planned beforehand and the criminal sprang totake his chance when it offered."

  "Her chance."

  "I use the common pronoun. When I say his or him, I merely mean the handthat struck the blow."

  "Have you seen the paper,--the message?"

  "I have it with me."

  Wise produced the glass-protected paper and together they studied thewriting.

  "It's positively Binney's," Wise declared. "I've compared lots of hiswriting with it, and it's surely his. Again, it was surely written atthe moment of his death, for Moore found him dying, and the pencil justdropping from his fingers."

  "Oh, I don't doubt all that," Zizi said, impatiently, "but what does itmean? I've gone past the fact that women did it; I thoroughly believethat,--in fact, I think it means that women used the knife, but it maynot, it may be merely that they were the primary causes. However, heknew, he was _sure_ of the criminals who were to be punished. Now, ifthat _bo_ means 'get both' there were only two. If it means somethingelse there may be more than two women implicated."

  "Oh, Lord, Ziz, don't gather in more than two suspects. Women don't forma club for murder."

  "Women don't murder, as a rule, anyway. You know yourself, the smallproportion of feminine murderers."

  "That ought to make it easier."

  "Not at all. These weren't professionals, who might be listed; they werewomen, two, most likely, who had a personal matter to settle with theEnglishman, and--settled it."

  "I grant you all that, except the personal matter. I can't help thinkingthe bun business is a factor, and though women did the murder, it may bethey were interested in the sale of the buns."

  "Reasons?"

  "Because Sir Herbert Binney was a man who jollied round with littlechorus youngsters and such, and they couldn't and wouldn't kill anybody.Don't look for the impossible, or so improbable as to amount to the samething."

  "I agree."

  "Nothing has turned up to hint at Sir Herbert's connection, evenacquaintance, with any older women or indeed any woman of a differentstamp, of his own station in life, or in society at all. No woman whocould be mentioned by name has ever had to do with Sir Herbert since hecame to New York,--that we know of."

  "There might be somebody though."

  "Of course, there might. If there is, we'll find her. But we can't hunta needle in a haystack. If she materializes, we'll spot her."

  "Then, excluding the squabs, the only women tagged onto the case are thetwo Feudists."

  "You've said it."

  "And they didn't act in collusion?"

  "Never!"

  "Then it comes down to a decision between Miss Prall and her companionor Mrs Everett and her maid."

  "Not necessarily her maid."

  "Crickets! Not her daughter!"

  "Oh, I don't know. I've just started, Ziz. Help me, don't jump aroundso."

  "Well, bless his heart, he shouldn't be tormented. He should just beguided, counselored and befriended by his faithful helper. Now, to startstraight, what's the motive in each of these two cases?"

  "Merely to get rid of the man who was for furthering the marriage of thetwo young people. Miss Prall knew that if Sir Herbert were dead, hisfortune would be young Bates' without any conditions and the boy couldgo on with his inventing in peace. Then, she felt, he'd get so engrossedhe'd forget about the Everett girl, and as the Everett mother plans tomove away all would be well."

  "If the Everetts are leaving, why should Miss Prall go to the trouble ofeliminating the Bun man?"

  "Point well taken, Zizi; but, you see, as long as the Bun man was aroundhe nagged at nephew to go into Buns and give up his more congenialoccupation."

  "Pretty slim reason for a real live murder, I think."

  "So do I. But it's the best we can get in that direction. Now, coming tothe Everett suspects, the widow may have more reason for wishing SirHerbert dead than we yet know of."

  "All we know of is so he can't push along the romance of theyoungsters."

  "Exactly. And here's the conclusion of the whole matter. I conclude thatthose two women are the ones to be looked up, not, of course, actingtogether, but one or the other of them. If we can get anything oneither, let's do so."

  "And the business men?"

  "I want to look those up, too. There's one Crippen, who consideredbuying out Sir Herbert's business. Also, he was an old beau of the twoenemy women. There may be a complication worth studying there."

  "What is this bun business? I mean, does he merely sell the goodwill,--of what?"

  "Oh, no; he sells his recipe. It's a secret process,--the making ofBinney's Buns,--and the recipe is the thing. No one has ever been ableto imitate them successfully. All attempts are dismal failures. But withthe formula any one can make them. It's Sir Herbert's great source ofanxiety lest the recipe, or formula, whatever they call it, should bediscovered."

  "Or stolen!"

  "Stolen?"

  "Yes, don't you see, he had the recipe and he was murdered for it."

  "Oh, don't go off wild-goose chasing! It might be,--or it might be hewas murdered for his watch and chain, which they didn't take afterall,--but we have to have some shred of evidence to go upon."

  "Sure we do. And, therefore, I ask you, where _is_ this recipe?"
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  "Why, I don't know,--truly I don't."

  Wise smiled at her as at a foolish child, but the saucy little brownface looked very sober as she said, seriously: "and you call yourself adetective! Why, Penny-piece of Wisdom, that recipe is the bone ofcontention. At least, if it isn't found, it is."

  "And did the women murder him for that?"

  "Like as not."

  "Zizi, you're a smart little girl, but sometimes you don't see straight.Now, drop the recipe, or consider it by yourself some other time. Yourstunt is to interest friend Bates."

  "The nephew?"

  "Yes. Don't flirt with him,--that isn't the _role_, but talk kindly tohim, and thereby find out all you can about the Everett bunch. If youadmire his sweetheart----"

  "Haven't seen her yet."

  "Well, you will. And then be real nice and girly-chummy with her, and soget both the lovers on your side. Then we can find out things otherwiseout of our reach."

  "Meaning the oldsters won't give up."

  "Of course not, if they're guilty. I'll take hold of the Crippenend,--and then, if your hunch about the recipe has anything to it, itwill come out,--and you sidle up to the lovers. We want to get quickaction, for the murderer may get scared and run away."

  "Shall I insinuate anything about the older women to----"

  "Mercy, no! You see, Bates is scared to death now, for fear it was hisaunt, and even more scared for fear it was Dorcas' mother! And thosevery real fears let Bates himself out,--if anybody ever had a thought ofhim."

  "Oh, nobody could."

  "No; well, there's your work cut out for you. Also----"

  "Also I'll keep at the servants. I've got the housekeeper just where Iwant her, but there's a head chambermaid who'll bear watching and I'mrather interested in the night porter."

  "Yes, he's a knowing one. Flirt with him----"

  "Oh, no, he's not that sort. And, too, he's engaged to a Tartar namedJulie, who would scratch out my not altogether unattractive eyes."

  "Vanity Box! Well, your eyes do set off what would otherwise be acommonplace face."

  Zizi made a face at him that was far from commonplace, and the talk wenton.

  They were indefatigable workers, these two, and what they plannedcarefully they carried out with equal care.

  And even while she talked, Zizi was looking about the room for apossible hiding-place for the recipe, which, so far as she knew, existedonly in her imagination,--and, she had a dim idea that she had found adirection in which to look.