XIX.
A DECIDED STEP FORWARD.
I felt that I had made an advance. It was a small one, no doubt, but itwas an advance. It would not do to rest there, however, or to drawdefinite conclusions from what I had seen without further facts to guideme. Mrs. Boppert could supply these facts, or so I believed. AccordinglyI decided to visit Mrs. Boppert.
Not knowing whether Mr. Gryce had thought it best to put a watch over mymovements, but taking it for granted that it would be like him to do so,I made a couple of formal calls on the avenue before I started eastward.I had learned Mrs. Boppert's address before leaving home, but I did notride directly to the tenement where she lived. I chose, instead, to getout at a little fancy store I saw in the neighborhood.
It was a curious place. I never saw so many or such variety of things inone small spot in my life, but I did not waste any time upon this quaintinterior, but stepped immediately up to the good woman I saw leaningover the counter.
"Do you know a Mrs. Boppert who lives at 803?" I asked.
The woman's look was too quick and suspicious for denial; but she wasabout to attempt it, when I cut her short by saying:
"I wish to see Mrs. Boppert very much, but not in her own rooms. I willpay any one well who will assist me to five minutes' conversation withher in such a place, say, as that I see behind the glass door at the endof this very shop."
The woman, startled by so unexpected a proposition, drew back a step,and was about to shake her head, when I laid on the counter before her(shall I say how much? Yes, for it was not thrown away) a five-dollarbill, which she no sooner saw than she gave a gasp of delight.
"Will you give me _that_?" she cried.
For answer I pushed it towards her, but before her fingers could clutchit, I resolutely said:
"Mrs. Boppert must not know there is anybody waiting here to see her, orshe will not come. I have no ill-will towards her, and mean her onlygood, but she's a timid sort of person, and----"
"I know she's timid," broke in the good woman, eagerly. "And she's hadenough to make her so! What with policemen drumming her up at night, andinnocent-looking girls and boys luring her into corners to tell themwhat she saw in that grand house where the murder took place, she'sgrown that feared of her shadow you can hardly get her out aftersundown. But I think I can get her here; and if you mean her no harm,why, ma'am----" Her fingers were on the bill, and charmed with the feelof it, she forgot to finish her sentence.
"Is there any one in the room back there?" I asked, anxious to recallher to herself.
"No, ma'am, no one at all. I am a poor widder, and not used to suchcompany as you; but if you will sit down, I will make myself look morefit and have Mrs. Boppert over here in a minute." And calling to someone of the name of Susie to look after the shop, she led the way towardsthe glass door I have mentioned.
Relieved to find everything working so smoothly and determined to getthe worth of my money out of Mrs. Boppert when I saw her, I followed thewoman into the most crowded room I ever entered. The shop was nothing toit; there you could move without hitting anything; here you could not.There were tables against every wall, and chairs where there were notables. Opposite me was a window-ledge filled with flowering plants, andat my right a grate and mantel-piece covered, that is the latter, withinnumerable small articles which had evidently passed a long and forlornprobation on the shop shelves before being brought in here. While I waslooking at them and marvelling at the small quantity of dust I found,the woman herself disappeared behind a stack of boxes, for which therewas undoubtedly no room in the shop. Could she have gone for Mrs.Boppert already, or had she slipped into another room to hide the moneywhich had come so unexpectedly into her hands?
I was not long left in doubt, for in another moment she returned with aflower-bedecked cap on her smooth gray head, that transformed her into afigure at once so complacent and so ridiculous that, had my nerves notbeen made of iron, I should certainly have betrayed my amusement. Withit she had also put on her company manner, and what with the smiles shebestowed upon me and her perfect satisfaction with her own appearance, Ihad all I could do to hold my own and keep her to the matter in hand.Finally she managed to take in my anxiety and her own duty, and sayingthat Mrs. Boppert could never refuse a cup of tea, offered to send heran invitation to supper. As this struck me favorably, I nodded, at whichshe cocked her head on one side and insinuatingly whispered:
"And would you pay for the tea, ma'am?"
I uttered an indignant "No!" which seemed to surprise her. Immediatelybecoming humble again, she replied it was no matter, that she had teaenough and that the shop would supply cakes and crackers; to all ofwhich I responded with a look which awed her so completely that shealmost dropped the dishes with which she was endeavoring to set one ofthe tables.
"She does so hate to talk about the murder that it will be a perfectgodsend to her to drop into good company like this with no pryingneighbors about. Shall I set a chair for you, ma'am?"
I declined the honor, saying that I would remain seated where I was,adding, as I saw her about to go:
"Let her walk straight in, and she will be in the middle of the roombefore she sees me. That will suit her and me too; for after she hasonce seen me, she won't be frightened. _But you are not to listen at thedoor._"
This I said with great severity, for I saw the woman was becoming verycurious, and having said it, I waved her peremptorily away.
She didn't like it, but a thought of the five dollars comforted her.Casting one final look at the table, which was far from uninvitinglyset, she slipped out and I was left to contemplate the dozen or sophotographs that covered the walls. I found them so atrocious and theirarrangement so distracting to my bump of order, which is of a pronouncedcharacter, that I finally shut my eyes on the whole scene, and in thisattitude began to piece my thoughts together. But before I had proceededfar, steps were heard in the shop, and the next moment the door flewopen and in popped Mrs. Boppert, with a face like a peony in fullblossom. She stopped when she saw me and stared.
"Why, if it isn't the lady----"
"Hush! Shut the door. I have something very particular to say to you."
"O," she began, looking as if she wanted to back out. But I was tooquick for her. I shut the door myself and, taking her by the arm, seatedher in the corner.
"You don't show much gratitude," I remarked.
I did not know what she had to be grateful to me for, but she had soplainly intimated at our first interview that she regarded me as havingdone her some favor, that I was disposed to make what use of it I could,to gain her confidence.
"I know, ma'am, but if you could see how I've been harried, ma'am. It'sthe murder, and nothing but the murder all the time; and it was to getaway from the talk about it that I came here, ma'am, and now it's you Isee, and you'll be talking about it too, or why be in such a place asthis, ma'am?"
"And what if I do talk about it? You know I'm your friend, or I neverwould have done you that good turn the morning we came upon the poorgirl's body."
"I know, ma'am, and grateful I am for it, too; but I've never understoodit, ma'am. Was it to save me from being blamed by the wicked police, orwas it a dream you had, and the gentleman had, for I've heard what hesaid at the inquest, and it's muddled my head till I don't know whereI'm standing."
What I had said and what the gentleman had said! What did the poor thingmean? As I did not dare to show my ignorance, I merely shook my head.
"Never mind what caused us to speak as we did, as long as we helped_you_. And we did help you? The police never found out what you had todo with this woman's death, did they?"
"No, ma'am, O no, ma'am. When such a respectable lady as you said thatyou saw the young lady come into the house in the middle of the night,how was they to disbelieve it. They never asked me if I knew anydifferent."
"No," said I, almost struck dumb by my success, but letting no hint ofmy complacency escape me. "And I did not mean they should. You are adecent woman, Mrs. Boppert,
and should not be troubled."
"Thank you, ma'am. But how did you know she had come to the house beforeI left. Did you see her?"
I hate a lie as I do poison, but I had to exercise all my Christianprinciples not to tell one then.
"No," said I, "I didn't see her, but I don't always have to use my eyesto know what is going on in my neighbor's houses." Which is true enough,if it is somewhat humiliating to confess it.
"O ma'am, how smart you are, ma'am! I wish I had some smartness in me.But my husband had all that. He was a man--O what's that?"
"Nothing but the tea-caddy; I knocked it over with my elbow."
"How I do jump at everything! I'm afraid of my own shadow ever since Isaw that poor thing lying under that heap of crockery."
"I don't wonder."
"She must have pulled those things over herself, don't you think so,ma'am? No one went in there to murder her. But how came she to havethose clothes on. She was dressed quite different when I let her in. Isay it's all a muddle, ma'am, and it will be a smart man as can explainit."
"Or a smart woman," I thought.
"Did I do wrong, ma'am? That's what plagues me. She begged so hard tocome in, I didn't know how to shut the door on her. Besides her name wasVan Burnam, or so she told me."
Here was a coil. Subduing my surprise, I remarked:
"If she asked you to let her in, I do not see how you could refuse her.Was it in the morning or late in the afternoon she came?"
"Don't you know, ma'am? I thought you knew all about it from the way youtalked."
Had I been indiscreet? Could she not bear questioning? Eying her withsome severity, I declared in a less familiar tone than any I had yetused:
"Nobody knows more about it than I do, but I do not know just the hourat which this lady came to the house. But I do not ask you to tell me ifyou do not want to."
"O ma'am," she humbly remonstrated, "I am sure I am willing to tell youeverything. It was in the afternoon while I was doing the front basementfloor."
"And she came to the basement door?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And asked to be let in?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Young Mrs. Van Burnam?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Dressed in a black and white plaid silk, and wearing a hat covered withflowers?"
"Yes, ma'am, or something like that. I know it was very bright andbecoming."
"And why did she come to the basement door--a lady dressed like that?"
"Because she knew I couldn't open the front door; that I hadn't the key.O she talked beautiful, ma'am, and wasn't proud with me a bit. She mademe let her stay in the house, and when I said it would be dark after awhile and that I hadn't done nothing to the rooms upstairs, she laughedand said she didn't care, that she wasn't afraid of the dark and hadjust as lieve as not stay in the big house alone all night, for she hada book--Did you say anything, ma'am?"
"No, no, go on, she had a book."
"Which she could read till she got sleepy. I never thought anythingwould happen to her."
"Of course not, why should you? And so you let her into the house andleft her there when you went out of it? Well, I don't wonder you wereshocked to see her lying dead on the floor next morning."
"Awful, ma'am. I was afraid they would blame me for what had happened.But I didn't do nothing to make her die. I only let her stay in thehouse. Do you think they will do anything to me if they know it?"
"No," said I, trying to understand this woman's ignorant fears, "theydon't punish such things. More's the pity!"--this in confidence tomyself. "How could you know that a piece of furniture would fall on herbefore morning. Did you lock her in when you left the house?"
"Yes, ma'am. She told me to."
Then she was a prisoner.
Confounded by the mystery of the whole affair, I sat so still the womanlooked up in wonder, and I saw I had better continue my questions.
"What reason did she give for wanting to stay in the house all night?"
"What reason, ma'am? I don't know. Something about her having to bethere when Mr. Van Burnam came home. I didn't make it out, and I didn'ttry to. I was too busy wondering what she would have to eat."
"And what did she have?"
"I don't know, ma'am. She said she had something, but I didn't see it."
"Perhaps you were blinded by the money she gave you. She gave you some,of course?"
"O, not much, ma'am, not much. And I wouldn't have taken a cent if ithad not seemed to make her so happy to give it. The pretty, prettything! A real lady, whatever they say about her!"
"And happy? You said she was happy, cheerful-looking, and pretty."
"O yes, ma'am; _she_ didn't know what was going to happen. I even heardher sing after she went up-stairs."
I wished that my ears had been attending to their duty that day, and Imight have heard her sing too. But the walls between my house and thatof the Van Burnams are very thick, as I have had occasion to observemore than once.
"Then she went up-stairs before you left?"
"To be sure, ma'am; what would she do in the kitchen?"
"And you didn't see her again?"
"No, ma'am; but I heard her walking around."
"In the parlors, you mean?"
"Yes, ma'am, in the parlors."
"You did not go up yourself?"
"No, ma'am, I had enough to do below."
"Didn't you go up when you went away?"
"No, ma'am; I didn't like to."
"When did you go?"
"At five, ma'am; I always go at five."
"How did you know it was five?"
"The kitchen clock told me; I wound it, ma'am and set it when thewhistles blew at twelve."
"Was that the only clock you wound?"
"Only clock? Do you think I'd be going around the house winding anyothers?"
Her face showed such surprise, and her eyes met mine so frankly, that Iwas convinced she spoke the truth. Gratified--I don't know why,--Ibestowed upon her my first smile, which seemed to affect her, for herface softened, and she looked at me quite eagerly for a minute beforeshe said:
"You don't think so very bad of me, do you, ma'am?"
But I had been struck by a thought which made me for the momentoblivious to her question. _She_ had wound the clock in the kitchen forher own uses, and why may not the lady above have wound the one in theparlor for hers? Filled with this startling idea, I remarked:
"The young lady wore a watch, of course?"
But the suggestion passed unheeded. Mrs. Boppert was as much absorbed inher own thoughts as I was.
"Did young Mrs. Van Burnam wear a watch?" I persisted.
Mrs. Boppert's face remained a blank.
Provoked at her impassibility, I shook her with an angry hand,imperatively demanding:
"What are you thinking of? Why don't you answer my questions?"
She was herself again in an instant.
"O ma'am, I beg your pardon. I was wondering if you meant the parlorclock."
I calmed myself, looked severe to hide my more than eager interest, andsharply cried:
"Of course I mean the parlor clock. Did you wind it?"
"O no, no, no, I would as soon think of touching gold or silver. But theyoung lady did, I'm sure, ma'am, for I heard it strike when she wassetting of it."
Ah! If my nature had not been an undemonstrative one, and if I had notbeen bred to a strong sense of social distinctions, I might havebetrayed my satisfaction at this announcement in a way that would havemade this homely German woman start. As it was I sat stock-still, andeven made her think I had not heard her. Venturing to rouse _me_ a bit,she spoke again after a minute's silence.
"She might have been lonely, you know, ma'am; and the ticking of a clockis such company."
"Yes," I answered with more than my accustomed vivacity, for she jumpedas if I had struck her. "You have hit the nail on the head, Mrs.Boppert, and are a much smarter woman than I thought. But when did shewind the clock?"
r /> "At five o'clock, ma'am; just before I left the house."
"O, and did she know you were going?"
"I think so, ma'am, for I called up, just before I put on my bonnet,that it was five o'clock and that I was going."
"O, you did. And did she answer back?"
"Yes, ma'am. I heard her step in the hall and then her voice. She askedif I was sure it was five, and I told her yes, because I had set thekitchen clock at twelve. She didn't say any more, but just after that Iheard the parlor clock begin to strike."
O, thought I, what cannot be got out of the most stupid and unwillingwitness by patience and a judicious use of questions. To know that thisclock was started after five o'clock, that is, after the hour at whichthe hands pointed when it fell, and that it was set correctly instarting, and so would give indisputable testimony of the hour when theshelves fell, were points of the greatest importance. I was so pleased Igave the woman another smile.
Instantly she cried:
"But you won't say anything about it, will you, ma'am? They might makeme pay for all the things that were broke."
My smile this time was not one of encouragement simply. But it mighthave been anything for all effect it had on her. The intricacies of theaffair had disturbed her poor brain again, and all her powers of mindwere given up to lament.
"O," she bemoaned, "I wish I had never seen her! My head wouldn't acheso with the muddle of it. Why, ma'am, her husband said he came to thehouse at midnight with his wife! How could he when she was inside of itall the time. But then perhaps he said that, just as you did, to save meblame. But why should a gentleman like him do that?"
"It isn't worth while for you to bother your head about it," Iexpostulated. "It is enough that _my_ head aches over it."
I don't suppose she understood me or tried to. Her wits had been sorelytried and my rather severe questioning had not tended to clear them. Atall events she went on in another moment as if I had not spoken:
"But what became of her pretty dress? I was never so astonished in mylife as when I saw that dark skirt on her."
"She might have left her fine gown upstairs," I ventured, not wishing togo into the niceties of evidence with this woman.
"So she might, so she might, and that may have been her petticoat wesaw." But in another moment she saw the impossibility of this, for sheadded: "But I saw her petticoat, and it was a brown silk one. She showedit when she lifted her skirt to get at her purse. I don't understand it,ma'am."
As her face by this time was almost purple, I thought it a mercy toclose the interview; so I uttered some few words of a soothing andencouraging nature, and then seeing that something more tangible wasnecessary to restore her to any proper condition of spirits, I took outmy pocket-book and bestowed on her some of my loose silver.
This was something she _could_ understand. She brightened immediately,and before she was well through her expressions of delight, I hadquitted the room and in a few minutes later the shop.
I hope the two women had their cup of tea after that.