XXIX.
AMELIA BECOMES PEREMPTORY.
"Madam, I hope I see you satisfied?"
This was Mr. Gryce's greeting as he entered my parlor on that memorablemorning.
"Satisfied?" I repeated, rising and facing him with what he afterwardsdescribed as a stony glare.
"Pardon me! I suppose you would have been still more satisfied if we hadwaited for _you_ to point out the guilty man to _us_. But you must makesome allowances for professional egotism, Miss Butterworth. We reallycould not allow you to take the initiatory step in a matter of suchimportance."
"Oh!" was my sole response; but he has since told me that there was agreat deal in that _oh_; so much, that even he was startled by it.
"You set to-day for a talk with me," he went on; "probably relying uponwhat you intended to assure yourself of yesterday. But our discovery atthe same time as yourself of the rings in Mr. Van Burnam's office, neednot interfere with your giving us your full confidence. The work youhave done has been excellent, and we are disposed to give youconsiderable credit for it."
"Indeed!"
I had no choice but to thus indulge in ejaculations. The communicationhe had just made was so startling, and his assumption of my completeunderstanding of and participation in the discovery he professed to havemade, so puzzling, that I dared not venture beyond these simpleexclamations, lest he should see the state of mind into which he hadthrown me, and shut up like an oyster.
"We have kept counsel over what we have found," the wary old detectivecontinued, with a smile, which I wish I could imitate, but whichunhappily belongs to him alone. "I hope that you, or your maid, I shouldsay, have been equally discreet."
My maid!
"I see you are touched; but women find it so hard to keep a secret. Butit does not matter. To-night the whole town will know that the older andnot the younger brother has had these rings in his keeping."
"It will be nuts for the papers," I commented; then making an effort, Iremarked: "You are a most judicious man, Mr. Gryce, and must have otherreasons than the discovery of these rings for your threatened arrest ofa man of such excellent repute as Silas Van Burnam's eldest son. Ishould like to hear them, Mr. Gryce. I should like to hear them verymuch."
My attempt to seem at ease under these embarrassing conditions must havegiven a certain sharpness to my tone; for, instead of replying, heremarked, with well simulated concern and a fatherly humoring of myfolly peculiarly exasperating to one of my temperament: "You aredispleased, Miss Butterworth, because we did not let _you_ find therings."
"Perhaps; but we were engaged in an open field. I could not expect thepolice to stand aside for me."
"Exactly! Especially when you have the secret satisfaction of having putthe police on the track of these jewels."
"How?"
"We were simply fortunate in laying our hands on them first. You, oryour maid rather, showed us where to look for them."
Lena again.
I was so dumfounded by this last assertion, I did not attempt to reply.Fortunately, he misinterpreted my silence and the "stony glare" withwhich it was accompanied.
"I know that it must seem to you altogether too bad, to be tripped up atthe moment of your anticipated triumph. But if apologies will suffice toexpress our sense of presumption, then I pray you to accept them, MissButterworth, both on my own part and on that of the Superintendent ofPolice."
I did not understand in the least what he was talking about, but Irecognized the sarcasm of his final expression, and had spirit enough toreply:
"The subject is too important for any more nonsense. Whereabouts inFranklin Van Burnam's desk were these rings found, and how do you knowthat his brother did not put them there?"
"Your ignorance is refreshing, Miss Butterworth. If you will ask acertain young girl dressed in gray, upon what object connected with Mr.Van Burnam's desk she laid her hands yesterday morning, you will havean answer to your first question. The second one is still more easilyanswered. Mr. Howard Van Burnam did not conceal the rings in the DuaneStreet office for the reason that he has not been in that office sincehis wife was killed. Regarding this fact we are as well advised asyourself. Now you change color, Miss Butterworth. But there is nonecessity. For an amateur you have made less trouble and fewer mistakesthan were to be expected."
Worse and worse! He was patronizing me now, and for results I had donenothing to bring about. I surveyed him in absolute amazement. Was heamusing himself with me, or was he himself deceived as to the nature andtrend of my late investigations. This was a question to settle, and atonce; and as duplicity had hitherto proved my best weapon in dealingwith Mr. Gryce, I concluded to resort to it in this emergency. Clearingmy brow, I regarded with a more amenable air the little Hungarian vasehe had taken up on entering the room, and into which he had been talkingever since he thought it worth while to compliment its owner.
"I do not wish," said I, "to be published to the world as the discovererof Franklin Van Burnam's guilt. But I do want credit with the police, ifonly because one of their number has chosen to look upon my efforts withdisdain. I mean you, Mr. Gryce; so, if you are in earnest"--he smiled atthe vase most genially--"I will accept your apologies just so far as youhonor me with your confidence. I know you are anxious to hear whatevidence I have collected, or you would not be wasting time on me thisbusy morning."
"Shrewd!" was the short ejaculation he shot into the mouth of the vasehe was handling.
"If that term of admiration is intended for me," I remarked, "I am sureI am only too sensible of the honor. But flattery has never succeeded inmaking me talk against my better judgment. I may be shrewd, but a foolcould see what you are after this morning. Compliment me when I havedeserved it. I can wait."
"I begin to think that what you withhold so resolutely has more thancommon value, Miss Butterworth. If this is so, I must not be the onlyone to listen to your explanations. Is not that a carriage I hearstopping? I am expecting Inspector Z----. If that is he you have beenwise to delay your communications till he came."
A carriage _was_ stopping, and it was the Inspector who alighted fromit. I began to feel my importance in a way that was truly gratifying,and cast my eyes up at the portrait of my father with a secret longingthat its original stood by to witness the verification of his prophecy.
But I was not so distracted by these thoughts as not to make one attemptto get something from Mr. Gryce before the Inspector joined us.
"Why do you speak to me of my maid in one breath and of a girl in grayin another? Did you think Lena----"
"Hush!" he enjoined, "we will have ample opportunities to discuss thissubject later."
"Will we?" thought I. "We will discuss nothing till I know morepositively what you are aiming at."
But I showed nothing of this determination in my face. On the contrary,I became all affability as the Inspector entered, and I did the honorsof the house in a way I hope my father would have approved of, had hebeen alive and present.
Mr. Gryce continued to stare into the vase.
"Miss Butterworth,"--it was the Inspector who was speaking,--"I havebeen told that you take great interest in the Van Burnam murder, andthat you have even gone so far as to collect some facts in connectionwith it which you have not as yet given to the police."
"You have heard correctly," I returned. "I have taken a deep interest inthis tragedy, and have come into possession of some facts in referenceto it which as yet I have imparted to no living soul."
Mr. Gryce's interest in my poor little vase increased marvellously.Seeing this, I complacently continued:
"I could not have accomplished so much had I indulged in a confidant.Such work as I have attempted depends for its success upon the secrecywith which it is carried on. That is why amateur work is sometimes moreeffective than professional. No one suspected me of making inquiries,unless it was this gentleman, and he was forewarned of my possibleinterference. I told him that in case Howard Van Burnam was put underarrest, I should take it upon myself to s
tir up matters; and I have."
"Then you do not believe in Mr. Van Burnam's guilt? Not even in hiscomplicity, I suppose?" ventured the Inspector.
"I do not know anything about his complicity; but I do not believe thestroke given to his wife came from his hand."
"I see, I see. You believe it the work of his brother."
I stole a look at Mr. Gryce before replying. He had turned the vaseupside down, and was intently studying its label; but he could notconceal his expectation of an affirmative answer. Greatly relieved, Iimmediately took the position I had resolved upon, and calmly butvigorously observed:
"What I believe, and what I have learned in support of my belief, willsound as well in your ears ten minutes hence as now. Before I give youthe result of such inquiries as I have been enabled to make, I requireto know what evidence you have yourself collected against the gentlemanyou have just named, and in what respect it is as criminating as thatagainst his brother?"
"Is not that peremptory, Miss Butterworth? And do you think us calledupon to part with all or any of the secrets of our office? We haveinformed you that we have new and startling evidence against the olderbrother; should not that be sufficient for you?"
"Perhaps so if I were an assistant of yours, or even in your employ. ButI am neither; I stand alone, and although I am a woman and unused tothis business, I have earned, as I think you will acknowledge later, theright to some consideration on your part. I cannot present the facts Ihave to relate in a proper manner till I know just how the case stands."
"It is not curiosity that troubles Miss Butterworth--Madam, I said itwas not curiosity--but a laudable desire to have the whole matterarranged with precision," dropped now in his dryest tones from thedetective's lips.
"Mr. Gryce has a most excellent understanding of my character," Igravely observed.
The Inspector looked nonplussed. He glanced at Mr. Gryce and he glancedat me, but the smile of the former was inscrutable, and my expression,if I showed any, must have betrayed but little relenting.
"If called as a witness, Miss Butterworth,"--this was how he sought tomanage me,--"you will have no choice in the matter. You will becompelled to speak or show contempt of court."
"That is true," I acknowledged. "But it is not what I might feel myselfcalled upon to say then, but what I can say now, that is of interest toyou at this present moment. So be generous, gentlemen, and satisfy mycuriosity, for such Mr. Gryce considers it, in spite of his assertionsto the contrary. Will it not all come out in the papers a few hourshence, and have I not earned as much at your hands as the reporters?"
"The reporters are our bane. Do not liken yourself to the reporters."
"Yet they sometimes give you a valuable clue."
Mr. Gryce looked as if he would like to disclaim this, but he was ajudicious soul, and merely gave a twist to the vase which I thoughtwould cost me that small article of vertu.
"Shall we humor Miss Butterworth?" asked the Inspector.
"We will do better," answered Mr. Gryce, setting the vase down with aprecision that made me jump; for I am a worshipper of _bric-a-brac_, andprize the few articles I own, possibly beyond their real value. "We willtreat her as a coadjutor, which, by the way, she says she is not, and bythe trust we place in her, secure that discretionary use of ourconfidence which she shows with so much spirit in regard to her own."
"Begin then," said I.
"I will," said he, "but first allow me to acknowledge that you are theperson who first put us on the track of Franklin Van Burnam."