CHAPTER VI--POOR MR. JANNEY!
The peace and aristocratic calm of the Janney household was disrupted.Into its dignified quietude burnt an irruption of alien activity and thegreat white light of publicity. Kissam with his minions came thatevening and reporters followed like bloodhounds on the scent. Sceneswere enacted similar to those Mr. Janney had read in novels andwitnessed at the theater, but which, in his most fevered imaginings, hehad never thought could transpire in his own home. It was unreal, like anightmare, a phantasmagoria of interviews with terrified servants,trampings up and down stairs, strange men all over the place, reporterson the steps, the telephone bell and the front door bell ringingceaselessly. Everybody was in a state of tense excitement except Mr.Janney whose condition was that of still, frozen misery. There weremoments when he was almost sorry he'd married again.
After introductory parleys with the heads of the house the searchlightof inquiry was turned on the servants. Their movements on the fatefulnight were subject of special attention. When Kissam elicited the factthat they had not returned from the village till nearly midnight he fellon it with ominous avidity. Dixon, however, had a satisfactoryexplanation, which he offered with a martyred air of forbearance. Mr.Price's man, Willitts, had that morning come up from town to CedarBrook, the next station along the line. In the afternoon he had bikedover to see them and, hearing of their plan to visit the movies, hadarranged to meet them there. This he did, afterward taking them to theMermaid Ice Cream Parlors where he had treated them to supper. They hadleft there about half past eleven, Willitts going back to Cedar Brookand the rest of them walking home to Grasslands.
From the women left in the house little was to be gathered. This wasunfortunate as the natural supposition was that the burglary had beencommitted during the hours when they were alone there. Both, feelingill, had retired early, Delia at about half-past eight, goingimmediately to bed and quickly falling asleep. Hannah was later; aboutnine, she thought. It was very quiet, not a sound, except that after shegot to her room she heard the dogs barking. They made a great row atfirst, running down across the lawn, then they quieted, "easing off withsort of whines and yaps, like it was somebody they knew." She had notbothered to look out of the window because she thought it was one of thework people from the neighborhood, making a short cut through thegrounds.
In the matter of the safe all was incomprehensible and mysterious. Fivepeople in the house knew the combination--Mr. and Mrs. Janney, Dixon andIsaac and Miss Maitland. Mrs. Janney was as certain of the honesty ofher servants and her Secretary as she was of her own. She ratherresented the detectives' close questioning of the latter. But MissMaitland showed no hesitation or annoyance, replying clearly andpromptly to everything they asked. She kept the house money and some ofher account books in the safe and on the second of the month--five daysbefore the robbery--had taken out such money as she had there to pay theworking people who did not receive checks. She managed the financialside of the establishment, she explained, paying the wages and bills anddrawing the checks for Mrs. Janney's signature.
Questioned about her movements that afternoon, her answers showed thesame intelligent frankness. She had spent the two hours after lunchaltering the dress she was to wear that evening. As it was very warm inher room she had taken part of it to her study on the ground floor. Whenshe had finished her work--about four--she had gone for a walk returningjust before the storm. After that she had retired to her room and stayedthere until she came down to go to Mr. Ferguson's dinner.
The safe and its surroundings were subjected to a minute inspectionwhich revealed nothing. Neither window had been tampered with, the lockswere intact, the sills unscratched, the floor showed no foot-mark. Therewere no traces of finger prints either upon the door or themetal-clamped boxes in which the jewel cases were kept. The mended chairwas just as Mrs. Janney remembered it, set between the safe and thewindow, in the way of any one passing along the hall.
It was on Sunday afternoon--twenty-four hours after the discovery--thatDick Ferguson appeared with one of his gardeners, who had a story totell. On Friday night the man had been to a card party in the garage ofa neighboring estate and had come home late "across lots." His finalshort cut had been through Grasslands, where he had passed round by theback of the house. He thought the time would be on toward one-thirty.Skirting the kitchen wing he had seen a light in a ground floor window,a window which he was able to indicate. He described the light as notvery strong and white, not yellow like a lamp or candle. As he looked atit he noticed that it diminished in brightness as if it was withdrawn,moved away down a hall or into a room. He could see no figure, simplythe lit oblong of the window, with the pattern of a lace curtain overit, and anyway he hadn't noticed much, supposing it to be one of theservants coming home late like himself.
This settled the hour of the robbery. It had not been committed when theplace was almost deserted, but when all its occupants were housed andsleeping. The window, pointed out by the man, was directly opposite thesafe door, the light as he described it could only have been made by anelectric lantern or torch, its gradual diminishment caused by itsremoval into the recess of the safe.
If before this Mr. Janney's mental state was painful, it now becameagonized. He was afraid to be with the detectives for fear of what hewould hear, and he was afraid to leave them alone, for fear of what hemight miss. When Mrs. Janney conferred with Kissam he sat by her side,swallowing on a dry throat, and trying to control the inner tremblingthat attacked him every time the man opened his lips. He gave way tosecret, futile cursings of the jewels, distracted prayers that theynever might be found. For if they were, the theft might be traced to itsauthor--and _then_ what? It would be the end of his wife, her proud headwould be lowered forever, her strong heart broken. Sleep entirelyforsook him and the people who came to call treated him with a soothinggentleness as if they thought he was dying.
His misery reached a climax when something he remembered, and every oneelse had forgotten, came to light. It was one day in the library whenKissam asked Mrs. Janney if there had ever been any one else in thehouse--a discharged employee or relation--who had known the combination.Mrs. Janney said no and then recollected that Chapman Price did, he hadkept his tobacco in the safe as the damp spoiled it. Kissam showed nointerest--he knew Chapman Price was her son-in-law and was no longer aninmate--and then suddenly asked what had been done with the writtencombination.
At that question Mr. Janney felt like a shipwrecked mariner deprived ofthe spar to which he has been clinging. He saw his wife's face chargedwith aroused interest--she'd forgotten it, it was in Mr. Janney's desk,had always been kept there. They went to the desk and found it under asheaf of papers in a drawer that was unlocked. Kissam looked at it, feltand studied the papers, then put it back in a silence that made Mr.Janney feel sick.
After that he was prepared for anything to happen, but nothing did. Hegot some comfort from the papers, which assumed the robbery to have beenan "outside job"; no one in the house fitting the character of asuspect. It was the work of experts, who had entered by the secondstory, and were of that class of burglar known as "tumblers" Mr. Janney,who had never heard of a "tumbler" save as a vessel from which to drink,now learned that it was a crackman, who from a sensitive touch and longtraining, could manipulate the locks and work out the combination. Hefound himself thanking heaven that such men existed.
When a week passed and nothing of moment came to the surface, the Janneyjewel robbery slipped back to the inside page, and, save in the environsof Berkeley, ceased to occupy the public mind. Mr. Janney could oncemore walk in his own grounds without fear of reporters leaping on himfrom the shrubberies or emerging from behind statues and garden benches.His tense state relaxed, he began to breathe freely, and, in thisrestoration to the normal, he was able to think of what he ought to do.Somehow, some day, he would have to face Suzanne with his knowledge andget the jewels back. It would be a day of fearful reckoning; it was soappalling to contemplate that he shrank from it even in though
t. He saidhe wasn't strong enough yet, would work up to it, get some more sleepand his nerves in better shape. And she might--there was always thehope--she might get frightened and return them herself.
So he rested in a sort of breathing spell between the first, grindingagony and the formidably looming future. But it was not to last--eventswere shaping to an end that he had never suspected and that came uponhim like a bolt from the blue.
It happened one afternoon eight days after the robbery. Mrs. Janney andSuzanne had gone for a drive and he was alone in the library, listlesslygoing over the morning papers. His zest in the news had left him--theChicago murder offered no interest, the stabbed policeman in desperatecase from blood poisoning, his assailant still at large, could notconjure away his dark anxieties. With his glasses dangling from hisfinger, his eyes on the green sweep of the lawn, he was roused by aknock on the door. It was Dixon announcing Mr. Kissam, who had walked upfrom the village and wanted to see him.
Kissam, with a brief phrase of greeting, closed the door and sat down.Mr. Janney thought his manner, which was always hard and brusque, wassoftened by a suggestion of confidence, something of intimacy as one whospeaks man to man. It made him nervous and his uneasiness was notrelieved in the least by the detective's words.
"I'm glad to find you alone, Mr. Janney. I 'phoned up and heard fromDixon that the ladies were out and that's why I came. I want to consultyou before I say anything to Mrs. Janney."
"That's quite right," said Mr. Janney, then added with a feeble attemptat lightness, "Are you, as the children say, getting any warmer?"
"We're very warm. In fact I think we've almost got there. But it'srather a ticklish situation."
Mr. Janney did not answer; he glanced at his shoes, then at the silveron the desk. For the moment he was too perturbed to look at Kissam'sshrewd, attentive face.
"It's so out of the ordinary run," the man went on, "and _so much_ isinvolved that I decided not to move without first telling you. Thefamily being so prominent--"
"The family!" Mr. Janney spoke before he thought, his limp handssuddenly clenching on the arms of the chair.
The detective's eyes steadied on the gripped fingers.
"What do you mean? Let me have it straight," said the old man huskily.
Kissam put his hand in his hip pocket and drew out an electric torchwhich he put on the desk.
"This torch I myself found two days ago in a desk in Mrs. Price's room.It was pushed back in a drawer which was full of letters and papers. Itfits the description of the torch that was lost by Mrs. Price's littlegirl."
Mr. Janney's head sunk forward on his breast, and Kissam knew now thathis suspicions were correct and that the old man had known all along. Hewas sorry for him:
"Mrs. Price not being your daughter, Mr. Janney, I decided to come toyou. I suspected her after the second day and I'll tell you why. I had aprivate interview with that woman Elspeth, Mrs. Janney's maid, and shetold me of a quarrel she had overheard between Mrs. Janney and herdaughter. The subject of the quarrel was money, Mrs. Price asking for alarge sum to meet certain debts and losses in the stock market whichMrs. Janney refused to give her. That supplied the motive and gave methe lead. The loss of the torch was also significant. The child wasconfident--and children are very accurate--that she had left it on thetable in her nursery when she went to bed. The proximity of the tworooms made the theft of the torch an easy matter. What puzzled me washow Mrs. Price had gained access to the safe, but that was cleared upwhen the written combination was found in your desk here; and finally Iran across what I should call perfectly conclusive evidence in Mrs.Price's room. I don't refer only to the torch, but to the fact that awrapper that was hanging in the back of one of the closets showed asmudge of varnish on the skirt."
Mr. Janney leaned forward over his clasped hands, feeling wan andshriveled.
"If your surmise is right," he said, "where has she put them?"
"If!" echoed the other. "I don't see any if about it. You can't suspecteither of the men servants--reliable people of establishedcharacter--nor Miss Maitland. A girl in her position--even if shehappened to be dishonest, which I don't for a moment think sheis--wouldn't tackle a job as big as that. Come, Mr. Janney, we don'tneed to dodge around the stump. As soon as I'd spoken I saw you thoughtMrs. Price had done it."
The old man nodded and said sadly:
"I did."
"Would you mind telling me why you did?"
There was nothing for it but to tell, and he told, the detectivesuppressing a grin of triumph. It cleared up everything, was asconclusive as if they'd seen her commit the act.
"As for where she put them," he said, "she may have a hiding place inthe house that we haven't discovered, or cached them outside. In matterslike this women sometimes show a remarkable cunning. I've looked up hermovements on the Saturday and it's possible she hid them somewhere inthe woods. She left the house at twelve, carrying a silk work bag,walked past Ferguson's place and talked there with him in the garden forabout fifteen minutes, went on to the beach, sat there a while, and thenwalked to the Fairfax house on the bluff, where she stayed to lunch,coming back here about half-past four. She had ample opportunity duringthat time and in the places she passed through to find a cache forthem."
Mr. Janney raised a gray, pitiful face:
"Mr. Kissam, if Mrs. Janney knew this it would kill her."
Kissam gave back an understanding look:
"That's why I came to you."
"Then it must stop here--with me." The old man spoke with a sudden,fierce vehemence. "It _can't_ go further. The girl's been a torment anda trouble for years. I won't let her end by breaking her mother's heart,bringing her gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Good God, I'd rathersay I did it myself."
"There's no need for that. We can let it fizzle out, die downgradually." He gave a slight, sardonic smile. "I've happened on thissort of thing before, Mr. Janney. The rich have their skeletons in thecloset, and I've helped to keep 'em there, shut in tight."
"Then for heaven's sake do it in this case--help me hide this skeleton.Keep up the search for a while so that Mrs. Janney won't suspectanything; play your part. Mr. Kissam, if you'll aid me in keeping thisdark there's nothing I wouldn't do to repay you."
Kissam disclaimed all desire for reward. His professional pride wasjustified; he had made good to his own satisfaction. And, as he hadsaid, the case presented no startling novelty to his seasonedexperience. Many times he had helped distracted families to suppressugly revelations, presented an impregnable front to the press, and seen,with a cynical amusement, columns shrink to paragraphs and the public'scuriosity fade to the vanishing point. He promised he would aid in theslow quenching of the Janney sensation, gradually let it flicker out,keep his men on the job for a while longer for Mrs. Janney's benefit,and finally let the matter decline to the status of an "unsolvedmystery."
As to the restoration of the jewels he gave advice. Say nothing for atime, sit quiet and give no sign. If she was as thoroughly scared as sheought to be, she would probably return them--they would wake one finemorning and find everything back in the safe. If, however, she tried torealize on them it would be easy to trace them--he would be on thewatch--and then Mr. Janney could confront her with his knowledge andhave her under his thumb forever.
Mr. Janney was extremely grateful--not at the prospect of having Suzanneunder his thumb, that was too complete a reversal of positions to becomfortable--but at the detective's kindly comprehension and aid. Withtears in his eyes he wrung Kissam's hand and honored him by a personalescort to the front door.