CHAPTER XIV
CAUGHT IN THE NET
Doris looked down in great, dry-eyed horror upon the body of thiswithered old man whom she had loved, and the thin thread of lifewithin her all but snapped. It had come; the premonition of disasterhad been fulfilled; the last of her blood had been sacrificed to themercilessly glittering diamonds--father, brother and now him! Mr.Wynne's face went white, and his teeth closed fiercely; he had lovedthis old man, too; then the shock passed and he turned anxiously toDoris to receive the limp, inert figure in his arms. She hadfainted.
"Well, what do _you_ know about it?" inquired Chief Arkwrightabruptly.
Mr. Wynne was himself again instantly--the calm, self-certainperfectly poised young man of affairs. He glanced at the chief,then shot a quick, inquiring look at Mr. Czenki. Almostimperceptibly the diamond expert shook his head. Then Mr. Wynne'seyes turned upon Mr. Birnes. There had been triumph in thedetective's face until that moment, but, under the steady, meaningglare which was directed at him, triumph faded to a sort of wonder,followed by a vague sense of uneasiness, and he read a command in thefixed eyes--a command to silence. Curiously enough it reminded himthat he was in the employ of Mr. Latham, and that there were certainbusiness secrets to be protected. He regarded the coroner'sphysician, hastily summoned for a perfunctory examination.
"Well?" demanded the chief again.
"Nothing--of this," replied Mr. Wynne. "I think, Doctor," and headdressed the physician, "that she needs you more than he does. Weknow only too well what's the matter with him."
The physician arose obediently. Mr. Wynne gathered up the slender,still figure in his arms, and bore it away to another room. Thedoctor bent over Doris, and tested the fluttering heart.
"Only shock," he said finally, when he looked up. "She'll comeround all right in a little while."
"Thank God!" the young man breathed softly.
He stooped and pressed reverent lips to the marble-white brow, thenstraightened up and, after one long, lingering look at her, turnedquickly and left the room.
"I have no statement to make," Mr. Czenki was saying, in that level,unemotional way of his, when Mr. Wynne reentered the room where laythe dead.
"We are to assume that you are guilty, then?" demanded ChiefArkwright with cold finality.
"I have nothing to say," replied the expert. His gaze met that ofMr. Wynne for a moment, then settled on the venerable face of theold man.
"Guilty?" interposed Mr. Wynne quickly. "Guilty of what?"
Chief Arkwright, without speaking, waved his hand toward the body onthe floor. There was a flash of amazement in the young man's face, asudden bewilderment; the diamond expert's countenance wasexpressionless.
"You don't deny that you killed him?" persisted the chief accusingly.
"I have nothing to say," said the expert again.
"And you don't deny that you were Red Haney's accomplice?"
"I have nothing to say," was the monotonous answer.
The chief shrugged his shoulders impatiently. Some illuminatingthought shone for an instant in Mr. Wynne's clear eyes and he noddedas if a question in his mind had been answered.
"Perhaps, Chief, there may be some mistake?" he protested half-heartedly."Perhaps this gentleman--what motive would--"
"There's motive enough," interrupted the chief briskly. "We havethis man's description straight from his accomplice, Red Haney,even to the scar on his face--" He paused abruptly, and regardedMr. Wynne through half-closed lids. "By the way," he continueddeliberately, "who are _you?_ What do _you_ know about it?"
"My name is Wynne--E. van Cortlandt Wynne" was the ready response."I am directly interested in this case through a long-standingfriendship for Mr. Kellner here, and through the additional factthat his granddaughter in the adjoining room is soon to become mywife." There was a little pause. "I may add that I live in NewYork, and that Miss Kellner has been stopping there for several days.She has been accustomed to hearing from her grandfather at least oncea day by telephone, but she was unable to get an answer eitheryesterday or to-day, so she came to my home, and together we came outhere."
Mr. Birnes looked up quickly. It had suddenly occurred to him towonder as to the whereabouts of Claflin and Sutton, who had been onwatch at the Thirty-seventh Street house. The young man interpretedthe expression of his face aright, and favored him with a meaningglance.
"We came alone," he supplemented.
Mr. Birnes silently pondered it.
"All that being true," Chief Arkwright suggested tentatively,"perhaps you can give us some information as to the diamonds thatwere stolen? How much were they worth? How many were there?" Heheld up the uncut stones that had been found on the floor.
"I don't know their exact number," was the reply. "Their value, Ishould say, was about sixty thousand dollars. Except for this littlehouse, and the grounds adjoining, practically all of Mr. Kellner'smoney was invested in diamonds. Those you have there are part of anaccumulation of many years, imported in the rough, one or two at atime."
Mr. Czenki was gazing abstractedly out of a window, but theexpression on his lean face indicated the keenest interest, and--andsomething else; apprehension, maybe. The chief stared straight intothe young man's eyes for an instant, and then:
"And Mr. Kellner's family?" he inquired.
"There is no one, except his granddaughter, Doris."
Some change, sudden as it was pronounced, came over the chief, andhis whole attitude altered. He dropped into a chair near the door.
"Have a seat, Mr. Wynne," he invited courteously, "and let'sunderstand this thing clearly. Over there, please," and he indicateda chair partly facing that in which Mr. Czenki sat.
Mr. Wynne sat down.
"Now you don't seem to believe," the chief went on pleasantly, "thatCzenki here killed Mr. Kellner?"
"Well, no," the young man admitted.
Mr. Czenki glanced at him quickly, warningly. The chief was notlooking, but he knew the glance had passed.
"And _why_ don't you believe it?" he continued.
"In the first place," Mr. Wynne began without hesitation, "thediamonds were worth only about sixty thousand dollars, and Mr. Czenkihere draws a salary of twenty-five thousand dollars a year. Theproportion is wrong, you see. Again, Mr. Czenki is a man ofunquestioned integrity. As diamond expert of the Henry LathamCompany he handles millions of dollars' worth of precious stones eachyear, and has practically unlimited opportunities for theft, withoutmurder, if he were seeking to steal. He has been with that companyfor several years, and that fact alone is certainly to his credit."
"Very good," commented the chief ambiguously. He paused an instantto study this little man with an interest aroused by the sum of hissalary. "And what of Haney's description? His accusation?" heasked.
"Haney might have lied, you know," retorted Mr. Wynne. "Men in hisposition have been known to lie."
"I understood you to say," the chief resumed, heedless of the note ofirony in the other's voice, "that you and Miss Kellner are to bemarried?"
"Yes."
"And that she is the only heir of her grandfather?"
"Yes."
"Therefore, at his death, the diamonds would become her property?"
For one instant Mr. Wynne seemed startled, and turned his clear eyesfull upon his interrogator, seeking the hidden meaning.
"Yes, but--" he began slowly.
"That's true, isn't it?" demanded the chief, with quick violence.
"Yes, that's true," Mr. Wynne admitted calmly.
"Therefore, indirectly, it would have been to _your_ advantage if Mr.Kellner had died or had been killed?"
"In that the diamonds would have come to my intended wife, yes," wasthe reply.
Mr. Czenki clasped and unclasped his thin hands nervously. His facewas again expressionless, and the beady eyes were fastened immovablyon Chief Arkwright's. Mr. Birnes was frankly amazed at thisunexpected turn of the affair. Suddenly Chief Arkwright brought hi
shand down on the arm of his chair with a bang.
"Suppose, for the moment, that Red Haney lied, and that Mr. Czenki is_not_ the murderer, then--As a matter of fact _your_ salary isn'ttwenty-five thousand a year, is it?"
He was on his feet now, with blazing eyes, and one hand was thrustaccusingly into Mr. Wynne's face. It was simulation; Mr. Birnesunderstood it; a police method of exhausting possibilities. Therewas not the slightest movement by Mr. Wynne to indicate uneasiness atthe charge, not a tremor in his voice when he spoke again.
"I understand perfectly, Chief," he remarked coldly. "Just what wasthe time of the crime, may I ask?"
"Answer my question," insisted the Chief thunderously.
"Now look here, Chief," Mr. Wynne went on frigidly, "I am not a childto be frightened into making any absurd statements. I do _not_ drawa salary of twenty-five thousand a year, no. I am in business formyself, and make more than that. You may satisfy yourself byexamining the books in my office if you like. By intimation, atleast, you are accusing me of murder. Now answer me a question,please. What was the time of the crime?"