CHAPTER XII. BLOSSOM'S SUSPICIONS
Characteristic as it was of Colonel Ashley not to show surprise, hecould hardly restrain an indication of it when he reached The Haven, andfound Miss Mary Carwell and Viola there. They were not expected untilthe next day, but while her niece was temporarily absent Miss Carwellexplained the matter.
"She couldn't stand it another minute. She insisted that I should packand come with her. Something seemed to drive her home."
"I hope," said the Colonel gently, "that she didn't imagine that Iwasn't doing all possible, under the circumstances."
"Oh, no, it wasn't anything like that. She just wanted to be at home.And I think, too," and Miss Carwell lowered her voice, after a glance atthe door, "that she wanted to see him."
"You mean--?"
"Mr. Bartlett! There's no use disguising the fact that his family andours aren't on friendly terms. I think he did a grave injustice to mybrother in a business way, and I'll never forgive him for it. I don'twant to see Viola marry him--that is I didn't. I hardly believe, now,after he has been arrested, that she will. But there is no doubt shecares for him, and would do anything to prove that this charge wasgroundless."
"Well, yes, I suppose that's natural," assented the detective. "I'd beglad, myself, to believe that Harry Bartlett had nothing to do with thedeath of Mr. Carwell."
"But you believe he did have, don't you?"
"I haven't yet made up my mind," was the cautious answer. "The golfcourse mystery, I don't mind admitting, is one of the most puzzling I'veever run across. It won't do to make up one's mind at once."
"But my brother either committed suicide, or else he was deliberatelypoisoned!" insisted Miss Carwell. "And those of us who knew him feelsure he would never take his own life. He must have been killed, and ifHarry Bartlett didn't do it who did?"
"I don't know," frankly replied the colonel. "That's what I'm going totry to find out. So Miss Viola feels much sympathy for him, does she?"
"Yes. And she wants to go to see him at the jail. Of course I know theydon't exactly call it a jail, but that's what I call it!"
Miss Carwell was nothing if not determined in her language.
"Would you let her go if you were I--go to see him?" she asked.
"I don't see how you are going to prevent it," replied the colonel."Miss Viola is of legal age, and she seems to have a will of her own.But I hardly believe that she will see Mr. Bartlett."
"Oh, but she said she was going to. That's one reason she made me comehome ahead of time, I believe. She says she's going to see him, and whatshe says she'll do she generally does."
"However I don't believe she'll see him," went on the detective. "Theprosecutor has given orders since yesterday that no one except Mr.Bartlett's legal adviser must communicate with him; so I don't believeMiss Viola will be admitted."
This proved to be correct. Viola was very insistent, but to no avail.The warden at the jail would not admit her to the witness rooms, whereHarry Bartlett paced up and down, wondering, wondering, and wondering.And much of his wonder had to do with the girl who tried so hard to seehim.
She had sent word by his lawyer that she believed in his innocence andthat she would do all she could for him, but he wanted more than that.He wanted to see her--to feast his hungry eyes on her--to hold her hand,to--Oh, well, what was the use? he wearily asked himself. Would thehorrible tangle ever be straightened out? He shook his head and resumedhis pacing of the rooms--for there were two at his disposal. He wasweary to death of the dismal view to be had through the barred windows.
"Did you see him?" asked her aunt, when Viola, much dispirited, returnedhome.
"No, and I suppose you're glad of it!"
"I am. There's no use saying I'm not."
"Aunt Mary, I think it's perfectly horrid of you to think, even for amoment, that Harry had anything to do with this terrible thing. He'dnever dream of it, not if he had quarreled with my father a dozen times.And I don't see what they quarreled about, either. I'm sure I was withHarry a good deal of the time before the game, and I didn't hear him andmy father have any words."
"Perhaps, as it was about you, they took care you shouldn't hear."
"Who says it was about me?"
"Can't you easily guess that it was, and that's why Harry doesn't wantto tell?" asked Miss Mary.
"I don't believe anything of the sort!" declared Viola.
"Well," sighed Miss Carwell, "I don't know what to believe. If yourpoor, dear father wasn't a suicide, some one must have killed him, andit may well have been--"
"Don't dare say it was Harry!" cried Viola excitedly. "Oh, this isterrible! I'm going to see Colonel Ashley and ask him if he can't endthis horrible suspense."
"I wish that as eagerly as you do," said Miss Mary. "You'll find thecolonel in the library. He's poring over some papers, and Shag, thatfunny colored man, is getting some fish lines ready; so it's easy enoughto guess where the colonel is going. If you want to speak to himyou'd better hurry. But there's another matter I want to call to yourattention. What about our business affairs? Have we money enough to goon living here and keeping up our big winter house? We must think ofthat, Viola."
"Yes, we must think of that," agreed the girl. "That's one of thereasons why I wanted to come back. Father's affairs must be gone intocarefully. He left no will, and the lawyer says it will take quite awhile to find out just how things stand. If only Harry were here tohelp. He's such a good business man."
"There are others," sniffed Miss Mary. "Why don't you ask thecolonel--or Captain Poland?"
"Captain Poland!" exclaimed Viola, startled.
"Yes. He helped us out in the matter of the bank when morecollateral was asked for, and he'll be glad to go over the affairswith us, I'm sure."
"I don't want him to!" snapped Viola. "Mr. Blossom is the proper oneto do that. He is the chief clerk, and since he was going to form apartnership with father he will, most likely, know all the details.We'll have him up here and ask him how matters stand."
"Perhaps that will be wise," agreed Miss Carwell. "But I can't forgethow careless LeGrand Blossom was in the matter of the loan your fatherhad from the bank. If he's that careless, his word won't be worth much,I'm afraid."
"Oh, any one is likely to make a mistake," said Viola. "I'll telephoneto Mr. Blossom and ask him to come here and have a talk with us. It willgive me something to think about. Besides--"
She did not finish, but went to the instrument and was soon talking tothe chief clerk in the office Mr. Carwell maintained while at his summerhome.
"He'll be up within an hour," Viola reported. "Now I'm going to have atalk with the colonel," and she hastened to the library.
The old detective was smoking a cigar, which he hastened to lay asidewhen Viola made her entrance, but she raised a restraining hand.
"Smoke as much as you like," she said. "I am used to it."
"Thank you," and he pulled forward a chair for her.
"Oh, haven't you found out anything yet?" she burst out. "Can't you sayanything definite?"
Colonel Ashley shook his head in negation.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm just as sorry about it as you are.But I have seldom had a case in which there were so many clews that leadinto blind allies. I was just trying to arrange a plan of procedure thatI thought might lead to something."
"Can you?" she asked eagerly.
"I haven't finished yet. What I need most is a book on poisons-acomprehensive chemistry would do, but I haven't been able to find onearound here," and he glanced at the books lining the library walls."Your father didn't go in for that sort of thing."
"No. But can't you send to New York for one?"
"I suppose I could--yes. I wonder if they might have one in the locallibrary?"
"I'm sure I don't know," and Viola leaned over to pick a thread from thecarpet. "I don't draw books from there. When it was first opened I tookout a card, but when I saw how unclean some of the volumes were I neverafterward patronized the place."
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"Then you wouldn't know whether they had a book on poisons, or poisonplants or not?"
"I wouldn't in the least," she answered, as she arose. "As I said, Idon't believe I have been in the place more than twice, and that was twoyears ago."
"Then I'll have to inquire myself," said the colonel, and he remainedstanding while Viola left the room. And for some little time he stoodlooking at the door as it closed after her. And on Colonel Ashley's facethere was a peculiar look.
LeGrand Blossom came to The Haven bearing a bundle of books and papers,and with rather a wry face--for he had no heart for business of thisnature. Miss Mary Carwell sat down at the table with him and Viola.
"We want to know just where we stand financially," said Viola. "What isthe condition of my father's affairs, Mr. Blossom?"
The confidential clerk hesitated a moment before answering. Then he saidslowly:
"Well, the affairs are anything but good. There is a great deal of moneygone, and some of the securities left are pledged for loans."
"You mean my father spent a lot of money just before he died?" askedViola.
"He either spent it or--Well, yes, he must have spent it, for it isgone. The car cost ten thousand, and he spent as much, if not more, onthe yacht."
"But they can be sold. I don't want either of them. I'm afraid in thebig car," said Viola, "and the yacht isn't seaworthy, I've heard. Iwouldn't take a trip in her."
"I don't know anything about that," said LeGrand Blossom. "But evenif the car and yacht were sold at a forced sale they would not bringanything like what they cost. I have gone carefully over your father'saffairs, as you requested me, and I tell you frankly they are in badshape."
"What can be done?" asked Miss Carwell.
"I don't know," LeGrand Blossom frankly admitted. "You may call in anexpert, if you like, to go over the books; but I don't believe he wouldcome to any other conclusion than I have. As a matter of fact, I had asomewhat selfish motive in looking into your father's affairs of late.You know I was thinking of going into partnership with him, and--and--"He did not finish.
Viola nodded.
"Perhaps I might say that he was good enough to offer me the chance,"the young man went on. "And, as I was to invest what was, to me, alarge sum, I wanted to see how matters were. So I examined the bookscarefully, as your father pressed me to do. At that time his affairswere in good shape. But of late he had lost a lot of money."
"Will it make any difference to us?" and Viola included her aunt in hergesture.
"Well, you, Miss Carwell," and Blossom nodded to the older lady, "haveyour own money in trust funds. Mr. Carwell could not touch them. But hedid use part of the fortune left you by your mother," he added to Viola.
"I don't mind that," was her steady answer. "If my father needed mymoney he was welcome to it. That is past and gone. What now remains tome?"
"Very little," answered LeGrand Blossom. "I may be able to pull thebusiness through and save something, but there is a lot of moneylost--spent or gone somewhere. I haven't yet found out. Your fatherspeculated too much, and unwisely. I told him, but he would pay no heedto me."
"Do you think he knew, before his death, that his affairs were in suchbad shape?" asked the dead man's sister.
"He must have, for I saw him going over the books several times."
"Do you think this knowledge impelled him to--to end his life?" falteredViola.
LeGrand Blossom considered a moment before answering. Then he slowlysaid:
"It was either that, or--or, well, some one killed him. There are no twoways about it."
"I believe some one killed him!" burst out Viola. "But I think theauthorities have made a horrible mistake in detaining Mr. Bartlett," sheadded. "Don't you, Mr. Blossom?"
"I--er--I don't know what to think. Your father had some enemies, it istrue. Every business man has. And a person with a temper easily aroused,such as--"
LeGrand Blossom stopped suddenly.
"You were about to name some one?" asked Viola.
"Well, I was about to give, merely as an instance, Jean Forette thechauffeur. Not that I think the Frenchman had a thing to do with thematter. But he has a violent temper at times, and again he is as meek asany one I ever knew. But say a person did give way to violent passion,such as I have seen him do at times when something went wrong with thebig, new car, might not such a person, for a fancied wrong, take meansof ending the life of a person who had angered him?"
"I never liked Jean Forette," put in Miss Carwell, "and I was glad whenI heard Horace was to let him go."
"Do you think--do you believe he had anything to do with my father'sdeath?" asked Viola quickly.
"Not the least in the world," answered the head clerk hastily. "I justused him as an illustration."
"But he quarreled with my father," the girl went on. "They had words, Iknow."
"Yes, they did, and I heard some of them," admitted LeGrand Blossom."But that passed over, and they were friendly enough the day of thegolf game. So there could not have been murder in the heart of thatFrenchman. No, I don't mean even to hint at him: but I believe some one,angry at, and with a grudge against, your father, ended his life."
"I believe that, too!" declared Viola firmly. "And while I feel, as youdo, about Jean, still it is a clew that must not be overlooked. I'lltell Colonel Ashley."
"I fancy he knows it already," said LeGrand Blossom. "There isn't muchthat escapes that fisherman."