CHAPTER XX
An Appeal for Advice
A cold plunge wiped away the last vestiges of sleepiness, and tenminutes later, I joined Godfrey in the dining-room, where he had orderedlunch for both of us, and where we could talk undisturbed, since we wereits only occupants.
"I've been up only a few minutes myself," he began as I sat down. "But Ididn't get to bed till nearly noon. There was too much to do, thismorning."
"Tell me about it," I said. "I'm anxious to hear the developments."
"There aren't any."
"But you've cleared up the mystery of the murder?"
"Cleared it up! My dear Lester, we haven't been able to take the firststep toward clearing it up! We know the unknown was shot, but as to whoshot him, and why, we're utterly at sea."
"Once establish his identity----"
"That's just what we can't do. But perhaps I'd better tell you the wholestory."
"Yes, do," I said. "That's what I want to hear."
"Well," he began, "after I left you, I hurried downtown toward thetelegraph office, and it wasn't until I'd gone quite a way that I met apatrolman. I stopped just long enough to tell him that he was needed atthe Kingdon place, for my time was getting short, and I couldn't affordto waste a minute. It wasn't until afterwards that I thought of theequivocal position you'd be in when the police arrived."
"I was certainly under suspicion," I laughed, "but there was no harmdone."
"After I got off my message, I stopped here at the hotel, and cleanedup, for I was really a sight. I learned from the clerk that you'dalready arrived in custody of a policeman. I peeped in at you, and foundyou sleeping like a log, not disturbed in the least by the presence ofthe sentinel."
"The result of a clear conscience," I pointed out.
"So I told the cop, after he'd related your adventure with the chief.Then I hurried back to the Kingdon place, and found that the coroner hadjust arrived. He's an ambitious young fellow, named Haynes, and iscleverer than the run of coroners. I introduced myself, told him what Iknew of the case and of your connection with it, and persuaded him torecall the officer who was guarding you."
"The only thing that bothered me," I said, "was to explain our presencein the house. How did you do it?"
Godfrey laughed.
"Oh, easily enough. We yellow journalists, you know, bear the reputationof pausing at nothing. We're also credited with a sort of second sightwhen it comes to nosing out news. I encouraged Haynes to believe that Ipossessed both these characteristics. I dwelt upon the suspiciouscircumstance of the light in the cellar, and led him to think that wesaw from the outside considerably more than we really did see. I didn'ttell him the whole truth, because I didn't want him to connect thisaffair in any way with Miss Lawrence's disappearance. I want to workthat out for myself--it's my private property."
I nodded; neither did I desire that Miss Lawrence's name should beconnected with this tragedy--not, at least, until there was somepositive evidence against her. And I hoped against hope, knowingGodfrey's persistence and cleverness, that no such evidence would befound.
"After I'd convinced the coroner of our disinterested motives,"continued Godfrey, "we went down to the cellar together, and, with thehelp of a couple of policemen, dug up the body. One of the policemenhappened to be Clemley, who'd been stationed at the Lawrence place, andhe identified the man at once as the one who had asked him the way tothe Kingdon house. We got him out--and a good load he was--stripped backhis clothes, and found that he'd been shot in the breast. The wound wasa very small one, and there had been little external bleeding. Therewere no burns upon the clothing, so the shot was fired from a distanceof at least five feet. The police surgeon ran in his probe, and foundthat the bullet had passed directly through the heart, so that death wasinstantaneous. From the expression of the face, I should say that thevictim had no suspicion of his danger--you remember that leer ofself-satisfaction. The course of the bullet was downward, which wouldseem to indicate that he was sitting in a chair at the time, while hismurderer was standing up. He had been dead more than twenty-four hours.The clay of the cellar was nearly as hard as rock, which accounts forthe fact that Harriet Kingdon was so long getting him buried."
"And it was she who fired the shot," I said, with conviction. "MarciaLawrence had nothing to do with it."
"Do you believe Lucy Kingdon knew anything about it?" he asked, lookingat me keenly.
"No--I'm sure she didn't."
"Then you apparently believe that one woman of only ordinary strengthcould handle a body which taxed two strong men to lift! I tell you,Lester, Harriet Kingdon unaided couldn't have taken that body to thecellar and laid it in that grave. If Lucy Kingdon didn't aid her, whodid?"
"I don't know," I answered. "But it wasn't who you think."
"Well, I hope it wasn't--but I don't see any other way out."
"You don't know all the facts, yet," I pointed out. "And I'm not so surethat Harriet Kingdon couldn't have handled the body alone. She didn'thave to lift it, but just drag it down the stairs and tumble it into thehole. She could have done that, and removed the traces afterwards."
"But the body wasn't tumbled into the hole--it was laid in. Did younotice its position--the feet were toward the inner wall. Do you supposeshe'd have dragged him by his legs?"
"She might have done anything, in her excitement," I persisted doggedly."You can't reason about what a woman would do under such circumstances."
"Perhaps not," Godfrey admitted; "but Haynes was struck with the idea,too, that Harriet Kingdon must have had an accomplice. He believes, ofcourse, that the accomplice was her sister. I let him keep on believingso--she can clear herself easily enough when the time comes; but just atpresent I want him to think he knows the whole story."
"Yes," I agreed, "that's the best--keep the bomb from bursting as longas you can."
"I'm not keeping it from bursting; but I can't explode it until I get itproperly charged. I see you're hoping I never will."
"Not with that charge!" I said fervently.
"Well, we won't talk about it now," said Godfrey, smiling at myearnestness. "After the coroner had looked over the ground and got hisdata, we lugged the body upstairs and examined it. It was that of a manof about fifty, well-preserved, but showing marks of dissipation. Thetip of the little finger on his left hand was missing, as Clemley hadsaid. From his complexion, hair, and general appearance I should saythat he was undoubtedly an Italian. I've already told you how he waskilled."
"And you couldn't identify him."
"No."
"Nothing in his clothes--no letter, or anything of that sort?"
"Not a thing. There was some loose money in the trousers pockets, aknife, a small comb, and a few other odds and ends, but no watch norpocketbook nor papers. However, I believe there had been. I fancied thatthe inside pocket of the coat had been turned out and then hastilyshoved in again. One of the vest buttons was unbuttoned, and the lowerleft-hand pocket of the vest certainly showed that a watch had beencarried in it."
"You mean these things had been removed?"
"I certainly do."
"But what was the motive of it all?" I demanded desperately.
"I don't know; I can't see clearly; but I'm sure of one thing, and thatis that it will lead back to Marcia Lawrence."
"I don't believe it!" I retorted. "I don't----"
The door opened and the clerk came in.
"Somebody wants you at the 'phone, Mr. Lester," he said; "longdistance," and he led the way to the booth.
It was Mr. Royce, and not until that moment did I remember that myabsence from the office was unexplained.
"I _was_ a little worried at first," he said, in answer to my question,"but when I saw that special from Elizabeth in the _Record_ thismorning, I began to understand, especially when I called up yourlandlady, and found you'd left the house in a hurry last night aftergetting a telegram."
"Yes, it was from Godfrey."
"What's up? The clerk down there told m
e this morning that you'd come inabout daybreak looking like you'd been digging a sewer, and that apoliceman was guarding you in your room."
"Yes, I was suspected of murder for a while, but I'm not under guard anylonger. I'll get back to the office as soon as I can."
"Oh, take your time--I'm getting along fairly well. Of course I've readthe papers--there's no connection between this affair and that otherone, is there, Lester?"
"Godfrey thinks so," I answered, glancing around to make sure that thedoor of the booth was securely closed. "He thinks the dead man was MissL.'s husband, and half believes she killed him."
I could hear Mr. Royce's inarticulate exclamation of disgust and anger.
"But of course that's all moonshine," I added.
"Moonshine! I should say so! Now, Lester, I want you to stay there tillyou get this thing straightened out, if only for Curtiss's sake. I knowyou can prove that any such theory as that is all bosh."
"I'll try to," I answered him, and hung up the receiver; but I confessthat I was not at all sure of my ability to accomplish the task.
As I left the booth, the clerk came toward me.
"There's a gentleman inquiring for you, Mr. Lester," he said. "He washere about noon asking for you, but wouldn't have you disturbed. He'sover here in the parlour, waiting for you."
I followed him to the door of the parlour.
"This is Mr. Lester," he said to a white-haired old man who was pacingnervously up and down, and left us alone together.
For a moment I did not recognise him, then as he came forward into theclearer light, I found myself looking down into the face of Dr.Schuyler.
"My dear Mr. Lester," he said, advancing with outstretched hand, "I hopeyou will pardon this intrusion."
"It's not in the least an intrusion," I said, honestly glad to see him.
"Thank you. Let us sit down over here by the window, if you will. I donot wish to run any risk of being overheard," and he glanced aboutanxiously.
As I looked at him more closely, I saw that he was labouring under somedeep trouble or anxiety. His face was pale and haggard, and he fingeredhis glasses with a nervousness which I knew was not habitual.
"The truth of the matter is," he went on, "that I feel the need ofadvice--legal advice. I have friends here, of course, to whom I couldhave gone; but I was told that you were interested in this case, andfrom what I saw of you the other evening, I felt that I should like tolay my difficulty before you. It is, as I said, a purely legal question,or I should not have felt the need of any earthly counsel."
I thanked him for his confidence and begged him to continue.
"As I understand the law," he went on, "an insane person cannot bepunished for a crime."
"No," I said, "except by being confined in an asylum until cured--andeven that is largely discretionary."
"And what, in law, is considered insanity--what is the test for it?"
"Inability to distinguish right from wrong is the usual test. No man isexcused from responsibility for a crime, if he has the capacity andreason sufficient to enable him to distinguish between right and wrong,as to the particular act he is then doing."
I fancied I heard the clergyman breathe a sigh of relief.
"A person, then, may be sane as regards some things, and insane asregards others?"
"Undoubtedly."
"Would the fact that a person had at one time been confined in anasylum, and had occasional lapses from sanity afterward, tend to provethat he was insane at the time of committing a crime?"
"It would tend to prove it very strongly; especially if thecircumstances under which the crime was committed were related in anyway to the cause of the insanity."
He paused a moment in deep thought.
"I cannot go that far," he said slowly, at last. "And yet--and yet--itmay be that you've hit upon the clue, Mr. Lester. I must have time tothink it over. Will you come to see me this evening?"
"Gladly," I said; "I only hope I can be of service."
"Thank you. I shall look for you between seven and eight. It may be thatI shall have something to tell you."
I watched him as he left the room, with a curious mixture of emotions.What was it he would have to tell me? Who was it was insane? Was it----
And suddenly I seemed to catch a glimmer of the truth; I felt that,however slowly and uncertainly, I was at last groping toward the light.