CHAPTER XVII--MISS MAITLAND IN A NEW LIGHT
At the entrance of the great building which housed the Whitney officethe two motors came to a halt. Ferguson went in with the others sayinghe would see if he could be of any use, and if he was not wanted wouldreturn to the street level and wait. In the elevator Mr. Janney, who hadbeen informed en route of Molly's real status, eyed her morosely, butwhen the car stopped forgot everything but the urgencies of the moment,and crowded out, tremulous and stumbling, on his wife's heels.
They were met by Wilbur Whitney who in a large efficient way,distributed them:--Ferguson was sent back to the street to wait, Mollywaved to a chair in the hall, and the old people conducted up thepassage to his private office. In a room opening from it Suzanne laystretched on a sofa, restoratives and stimulants at hand, and a girlstenographer to fan her. She had revolted against the presence ofEsther, who had been removed from her sight and shut in the sanctum of ajunior partner.
Mrs. Janney went in to see her and the old man fell upon Whitney. It wasPrice's doing--they were certain of it, his wife had said so at once. Hewas bound to get back at them some way, he'd said he would--he'd leftGrasslands swearing vengeance, and had been only waiting hisopportunity. The lawyer nodded in understanding agreement and, Mrs.Janney returning, they drew up to the table and conferred in low voices.
What Whitney said confirmed the Janneys' belief. He told of hisinterview with Price; the man's anger and threats. Nevertheless he wasof the opinion that the plot to kidnap the child had not been undertakenin sudden passion, but had probably been for some time germinating inChapman's mind. The news of Bebita's loss, telephoned to the office byMiss Maitland, while it had shocked, had not altogether surprised him,though he had hardly thought the young man's desire to get square wouldhave carried him to such lengths. Immediately after Esther'scommunication, George had telephoned to Price's office receiving theanswer that he was not there but could probably be found at theHartleys' at Cedar Brook. From the Hartleys they had learned that Mr.Price was in town, and had sent word that morning he would not come outthis week-end.
There were other circumstances which the lawyer said pointed to Price.These they could hear from Mrs. Babbitts who had made some importantdiscoveries. He rose to send for her, but Mrs. Janney stayed him with agesture--before they went into that she would like to see Miss Maitlandand hear from her exactly what had occurred. Mr. Whitney, suavelyagreeable, sent a summons for Esther, then softly closed the door intothe room where Suzanne lay.
"Mrs. Price is very bitter against her," he said in explanation.
Mrs. Janney, too wrought up for polite hypocrisies, said brusquely:
"Oh, that's exactly like Suzanne. She has no balance at all. Of coursewe can't blame Miss Maitland--it's not her fault."
Mr. Whitney dropped back into his revolving desk chair and swung ittoward her with a lurch of his body:
"She tells a very clear story--extremely clear. I'll let you get yourown impression of it and then we'll have a talk with Mrs. Babbitts andyou can see--"
A knock on the door interrupted him; in answer to his "Come in," Estherentered. She halted a moment on the threshold, her eyes touching thefaces of her employers questioningly, as if she was not sure of herreception. But Mrs. Janney's quick, "Oh, Miss Maitland, I want to seeyou," brought her across the sill. Though she looked harassed anddistressed, her manner showed a restrained composure. She took a chairfacing them, meeting their glances with a steady directness. Mrs.Janney's demand for information was promptly answered; indeed hernarrative was so devoid of unnecessary detail, so confined toessentials, that it suggested something gone over and put in readinessfor the telling.
She had taken Bebita to the dressmaker and the oculist, the childaccompanying her into both places. At the third stop, Justin's, she hadpersuaded Bebita to stay in the taxi. She had left it at the curb andhad not been more than ten minutes in the store. When she came out itwas gone. She had spent some time looking for it, searched up and downthe street, and, though she was frightened, she could not believeanything had happened. Her idea had been that Bebita, tired of waitingor wanting to play a joke on her, had prevailed on the driver to returnto the Fifth Avenue house. She had hailed a cab and gone back there andit was not till she saw Mrs. Price that she realized the real extent ofthe calamity. Mrs. Price had been utterly overwhelmed, and, not knowingwhat else to do, she had called up Grasslands for instructions.
Mr. Janney, who had been twisting and turning on his chair, burst outwith:
"The man--the driver--did you notice him?"
She lifted her hands and dropped them in her lap.
"Oh, Mr. Janney, _of course_ I didn't. Does any one _ever_ look at thosemen? He never got off his seat, opened the door by stretching his armround from the front. I have a sort of vague memory of his face when Icalled him off the stand, and I think--but I can't be sure--that he woregoggles."
"It's needless to ask if you remember the number," Mrs. Janney said.
The girl answered with a hopeless shake of the head.
"You say you ran about looking for the taxi"--it was Mr. Janneyagain--"Why did you waste that time?"
"Mr. Janney," she leaned toward him insistent, but with patience for hisafflicted state, "I thought it had gone somewhere farther along. Youknow how they won't let the vehicles stand in Fifth Avenue. I supposedit was down the block or round the corner on a side street. I asked thedoorman but he hadn't noticed. I looked in every direction and even whenI finally gave up and went after her I hadn't an idea that she'd been_stolen_."
"Time lost--all that time lost!" wailed the old man and began to cry.
"Come, come, Mr. Janney," said Whitney, "don't despond. It's not as badas all that, and I'm pretty confident we'll have her back all rightbefore very long."
Mr. Janney, with his face in his handkerchief, emitted sounds that noone could understand. His wife silenced him with a peremptory, "Bequiet, Sam," and returned to Miss Maitland:
"You say you dissuaded her from going into Justin's. Why did you dothat?"
For the first time the girl lost her even poise. As she answered hervoice was unsteady: "We were so pressed for time and I knew I could getthrough much quicker without her. That's why I did it--begged her tostay in the taxi and she said she would,"--she stopped, biting on herunder lip, evidently unable to go on.
There was a moment's silence broken by Mrs. Janney's voice low and grim:
"The man heard you and knew that was his chance."
Miss Maitland, her eyes down, the bitten lip showing red against itsfellow, said huskily:
"You must blame me--you can't help it--but I'd rather have died than hadsuch a thing happen."
Mr. Janney began to give forth inarticulate sounds again and his wifesaid with a sort of dreary resignation:
"Oh, I don't blame you, Miss Maitland. Nobody does. Mrs. Price is notresponsible; she doesn't know what she's saying."
"Of course, of course," came in Whitney's deep, bland voice, "we allunderstand Mrs. Price's feelings--quite natural under the circumstances.And Miss Maitland's too." He rose and pressed a bell near the door. "Nowif you've heard all you want I'll call in George and we'll talk thisover. And Miss Maitland," he turned to her, urbanely kind and courteous,"could I trouble you to go back to Mr. Quincy's office; just for alittle while? We won't keep you waiting very long this time."
A very dapper young man had answered the summons and under his escortEsther withdrew. Whitney went to a third door connecting with his son'srooms, opened it and said in a low voice:
"George, go and get Molly. We're ready for her now."
Coming back, he stood for a moment by the desk, and swept the faces ofhis clients with a meaning look:
"What you're going to hear from Mrs. Babbitts will be something of ashock. She's unearthed several rather startling facts that in my opinionbear on this present event and what led up to it. It's a peculiarsituation and involves not only Price but Miss Maitland."
Mrs. Janney stared:
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"Miss Maitland and Chapman! What sort of a situation?"
"At this stage I'll simply say mysterious. But I'm afraid, my dearfriend, that your confidence in the young woman has been misplaced.However, before I go any further I'll let you hear what Mrs. Babbittshas to say and draw your own conclusions."
What Mrs. Babbitts had to say came not as one shock but as a series.Mrs. Janney could not at first believe it; she had to be shown the notesof the telephone message, and dropped them in her lap, staring from herhusband to Wilbur Whitney in aghast question. Mr. Janney seemed stunned,shrunk in his clothes like a turtle in its shell. It was not until thelawyer, alluding to the loss of the jewels, mentioned Miss Maitland'spossible participation either as the actual thief or as an accomplice,that he displayed a suddenly vitalized interest. His body stretchedforward, and his neck craned up from its collar gave him more than everthe appearance of a turtle reaching out of its shell, his voice comingwith a stammering urgency:
"But--but--no one can be sure. We mustn't be too hasty. We can't condemnthe girl without sufficient evidence. Some one else may have been thereand--"
Mrs. Janney shut him off with an exasperated impatience:
"Oh, Sam, don't go back over all that. I don't care who took them; Idon't care if I never see them again. It's only the child that matters."Then to Whitney the inconsequential disposed of, "We must make a move atonce, but we must do it quietly without anything getting into thepapers."
Whitney nodded:
"That's my idea."
"What are you going to do--go directly to him?"
"No, not yet. Our first step will be made as you suggest, very quietly.We're going to keep the matter out of the papers and away from thepolice. Keep it to ourselves--do it ourselves. And I think--I don't wantto raise any false hopes--but I think we can lay our hands on Bebitato-night."
"How--where?" Mr. Janney's head was thrust forward, his blurred eyesalight.
"If you don't mind, I'm not going to tell you. I'm going to ask you toleave it to me and let me see if my surmises are correct. If Chapman hasher where I think he has, I'll give her over to you by ten o'clock. IfI'm mistaken it will only mean a short postponement. He can't keep herand he knows it."
"The blackguard!" groaned the old man in helpless wrath.
Mrs. Janney wasted neither time nor energy in futile passion. Sheattacked another side of the situation.
"What are we to do with Miss Maitland? You can't arrest her."
"Certainly not. She's a very important person and we must have her underour eye. You must treat her as if you entirely exonerated her from allblame--maintain the attitude you took just now when talking with her. Ifmy immediate plan should fail our best chance of getting Bebita withoutpublicity and an ugly scandal will be through her. She must have no hintof what we think, must believe herself unsuspected, and free to come andgo as she pleases."
"You mean she's to stay on with us?" Mr. Janney's voice was high withindignant protest.
"Exactly--she remains the trusted employee with whose painful positionyou sympathize. It won't be difficult, for you won't see much of her.You'll naturally stay here in town till Bebita is found. What I intendto do with her is to send her back to Grasslands with a competentjailer--" he paused and pointed where Molly sat, silent and almostforgotten.
For a moment the Janneys eyed her, questioning and dubious, then Mrs.Janney voiced their mutual thought:
"Is Mrs. Babbitts, alone, a sufficient guard?"
The lawyer smiled.
"Quite. Miss Maitland doesn't want to run away. She knows too much forthat. No position could be better for our purpose than to leaveher--apparently unsuspected--alone in that big house. She will beconfident, possibly take chances." He turned on Molly, glowering at herfrom under his overhanging brows. "The safest and quickest means ofcommunication with Grasslands, when the family is in town and theservants ignorant of the situation, would be the telephone."
That ended the conference. Mrs. Janney went to get Suzanne and Mollyreceived her final instructions. She was to return to Grasslands withMiss Maitland, Ferguson could take them in his motor. She was to sit inthe back seat with the lady and casually drop the information that shehad come to town in answer to a wire from the Whitney office. She mighthave seen suspicious characters lurking about the grounds or in thewoods. On no account was she to let her companion guess that Price wassuspected, and any remarks which might place the young woman morecompletely at her ease, allay all sense of danger, would be valuable.
They left the room and went into the entrance hall where Esther, andpresently Mrs. Janney, joined them. Whitney struck the note of areassuring friendliness in his manner to the girl, and the old people,rather reservedly chimed in. She seemed grateful, thanked them,reiterating her distress. In the elevator, going down, Molly noticedthat she fell into a staring abstraction, starting nervously as the irongate swung back at the ground floor.
Ferguson, waiting on the curb, saw them as they emerged from thedoorway. His eyes leaped at the girl, and, as she crossed the sidewalk,were riveted on her. Their expression was plain, yearning and passion nolonger disguised. If she saw the look she gave no sign, nodded to him,and, leaving Molly to explain, climbed into the back seat and sunk in acorner. Though the afternoon was hot she picked up the cloak lying onthe floor and drew it round her shoulders.
The drive home was very silent. Molly gave the prescribed reasons forher presence and heard them answered with the brief comments ofinattention. She also touched on the other matters and found hercompanion so unresponsive that she desisted. It was evident that EstherMaitland wanted to be left to her own thoughts. Huddled in the cloak,her eyes fixed on the road in front, she sat as silent and enigmatic asa sphinx.