CHAPTER IV. VIOLA'S DECISION
"That is the very question we have been asking ourselves, my dearCaptain," said Dr. Lambert wearily. "And we are no nearer an answer nowthan, apparently, you are. Why did he do it?"
The three men, two gravely professional, one, the younger, more so thanhis elder colleague, and the third plainly upset over the surprisingnews, looked at one another behind the closed door of the little roomoff the imposing reception hall at The Haven. They were in the house ofdeath, and they had to do with more than death, for there was, in thereputed action of Horace Carwell, the hint of disgrace which suicidealways engenders.
"I suppose," began Captain Poland, rather weakly, "that there can be nochance of error He looked from one medical man to the other.
"Not the least in the world!" quickly exclaimed Baird. "We made a mostcareful examination of the deceased's organs. They plainly show tracesof a violent poison, though whether it was irritant or one of theneurotics, we are not yet prepared to say."
"It couldn't have been an irritant," said Dr. Lambert gently. It wasas though he had corrected a too zealous student reciting in class. Dr.Baird was painfully young, though much in earnest.
"Perhaps not an irritant," he agreed. "Though I know of no neurotic thatwould produce such effects as we saw.
"You are right there," said Dr. Lambert. "Whatever poison was used itwas one the effects of which I have never seen before. But we have notyet finished our analysis. We have only reached a certain conclusionthat may ultimately be changed."
"You mean as to whether or not it was suicide?" asked Captain Polandeagerly.
"No, I don't see how we can get away from that," said Dr. Lambert. "Thatfact remains. But if we establish the kind of poison used it may lead usto the motive. That is what we must find."
"And we will find the kind of poison!" declared Dr. Baird.
The older medical man shook his head.
"There are some animal and vegetable poisons for which there is no knowntest," he said gently. "It may turn out to be one of these."
"Then may it not develop that Mr. Carwell, assuming that he did takepoison, did it by mistake?" asked the captain.
"I hope so," murmured Dr. Lambert.
"But from the action of the poison, as shown by the condition of themucous coat of the alimentary canal, I hardly see how Mr. Carwell couldnot have known that he took poison," declared Dr. Baird.
"Yet he seemed all right except for a little pardonable exhilarationduring the game of golf," remarked Captain Poland. "He was feeling'pretty good' as we say. I don't see how he could have taken poisonknowingly or unknowingly."
"There are some poisons which, taken in combination, might mix and forma comparatively harmless mixture," said Dr. Lambert. "Though I confessthis is a very remote possibility. Some poisons are neutralized by analcoholic condition. And some persons, who may have been habitual usersof a drug, may take a dose of it that would kill several persons not soaddicted."
"Do you mean that Mr. Carwell was a drug user?" demanded the captain.
"I would hesitate very long before saying so," answered Dr. Lambert,"and I have known him many years."
"Then what was it? What in the world does it all mean?" asked CaptainPoland. "What's the answers in other words?"
"I wish I knew," replied Dr. Lambert, and he shook his head. Somethingmore than the weight of years seemed bowing him down. Dr. Baird seemedduly impressed by the circumstances that had brought him--a young and asyet unestablished physician--to a connection with such a startling casein the well known and wealthy Carwell family.
As for Captain Gerry Poland, he was clearly startled by the news thephysicians had brought. He looked toward the closed door as thoughseeking to see beyond it--into the room where Viola was waiting. To her,sooner or later, the tragic verdict must be told.
"Can't you say anything?" he asked, a bit sharply, looking from onephysician to the other "Is this all you came to tell--that Mr. Carwellwas a suicide? Isn't there any mitigating circumstance?"
"I believe he poisoned himself before he began his championship game,"said Dr. Baird, with startling frankness--almost brutal it seemed.
"But why should he do such a thing?" demanded the captain, ratherpetulantly.
"He may have taken some dope, thinking it would brace him up," went on theyoung medical man, "and it had the opposite effect--a depressing actionon the heart. Or, he may have taken a overdose of his favorite drug.That is what we shall have to find out by making suitable inquiries ofmembers of the family."
"Oh, must we tell them," exclaimed Captain Poland in startled tones.And it was easy to determine by his voice that by "them" he meant Viola."Must we tell?" he repeated.
"I must do my duty as a physician both to the public and to the family,"said Dr. Lambert, and he straightened up as though ready to assume theburden he knew would fall heavily on his shoulders. "I must also thinkof Viola. I feel like another father to her now. I have always, more orless, regarded her as my little girl, though she is a young ladynow. But the facts must come out. Even if I were disposed to aid ina concealment--which I am far from doing--Dr. Rowland, the countyphysician, was present at the autopsy. He knows."
"Does he know the poison used?" asked Captain Poland quickly, and then,almost as soon as the words had left his lips, he seemed sorry he haduttered them.
"No, no more than we," said Dr. Baird. "It will require some nicework in medical jurisprudence, and also a very delicate analysis, todetermine that. I am inclined to think--"
But what he thought no one heard or cared to hear at that moment, for,even as he spoke, the door of the little room was thrown hastily andsomewhat violently open, and Viola Carwell confronted the three men. Herface showed traces of grief, but it had lost little of the beauty forwhich she was noted.
Tall and dark, with hair of that blue--black sheen so rarely observed,with violet eyes and a poise and grace that made her much observed,Viola Carwell was at the height of her beauty. In a sense she had thegentle grace of her mother and with that the verve and sprightliness ofher father mingled perfectly. It was no wonder that Captain Poland andHarry Bartlett and many others, for that matter, were rivals for herfavors.
"I thought you were here," she said quietly to Dr. Lambert. "Oh, UncleAdd, what is it? Tell me the truth!" she begged as she placed a hand onhis arm, a hand that trembled in spite of her determination to remaincalm. "Please tell me the truth!"
"The truth, Viola?" he questioned gently.
"Yes. I'm afraid you are trying to keep something back from me. Thislooks like it--you men in here talking--consulting as to what is best todo. Tell me. My father is dead. But that, I know, is not the worst thatcan happen. Tell me! Is there-is there any disgrace? I know--"
Viola stopped as though she herself feared the words she was about toutter. Dr. Lambert quickly spoke.
"There has been no disgrace, my dear Viola," he said, gently. "We havejust come from the--from having made an investigation--Dr. Baird andmyself and Dr. Rowland. We discovered that your father was poisoned,and--"
"Poisoned?" she gasped, and started back as though struck, while herrapid glances went from face to face, resting longest on the countenanceof Captain Poland. It was as though, in this great emergency, she lookedto him for comfort more than to the old doctor who had ushered her intothe world.
"I am sorry to have to say it, Viola, but such is the case," wenton the family physician. "Your father was poisoned. But the kind ofpoison we have not yet determined."
"But who gave it to him?" she cried. "Oh, it doesn't seem that anyone would hate him so, not even his worst enemy. And he had so manyfriends-too many, perhaps."
"We don't know that any one gave him the poison, Viola," said Dr.Lambert, gently. "In fact, it does not seem that any one did, or yourfather would have known it. Certainly if any one had tried to makehim take poison there would have been a struggle that he would havementioned. But he died of poison, nevertheless."
"Then there can be but one other
explanation," she murmured, and hervoice was tense and strained. "He must have--"
"We fear he took it himself," blurted out Dr. Baird, in spite of thewarning look cast at him by his colleague.
"Oh, I won't believe that! It can't be true!" cried Viola, and she burstinto a storm of sobs. Dr. Lambert placed his arms about her.
"Tell me it isn't true, Uncle Add! Tell me it isn't true!" she sobbed.
The three men, looking at one another--Dr. Lambert's glance coming overthe bowed head of Viola--said nothing for a few moments. Then as hersobs died away, and she became calmer, the old physician said:
"You must not take on so, Vi. I know it is hard, but you must meet theissue squarely. At the same time you must realize that even the mostsuspicious circumstances may be explained away. While it does look asthough your father had deliberately taken the poison, it may easily beestablished by an investigation that it was an accident--an accident ofwhich even your father was ignorant."
"There are so many poisons that do not manifest themselves for a longtime--often days--after they are taken, that there is every chance ofproving this to have been an accident."
"Then there must be an investigation!" was Viola's quick decision.There were still tears in her eyes, but she looked through them now,as through a veil that must be torn aside. "I can not believe that myfather was a--a suicide--" she halted at the awful word. "I will notbelieve it!" she went on more firmly. "It can not be true!"
Hardly had she uttered the last word than a figure passed through thehall, flitting past the half-opened door of the little room where Violastood with the three men.
"Who is there?" she called sharply, for she had spoken rather loudly,and she did not want any of the servants to hear. "Who is there?"
"It is I--Minnie," was the answer. "Dear Viola, I have come to see if Icould do anything. I rang and rang, but no one answered the bell, and,as the door was open, I walked in."
"I'm afraid I didn't close it when I let you in," said Captain Poland toDr. Lambert.
"Dear Viola!" said Minnie Webb, as she placed cheek against that of herfriend. "Is there anything I can do in your terrible trouble? Please letme do something!"
"Thank you, Minnie. You are very kind. I don't know. We are in suchdistress. Tell me--" and Viola seemed to nerve herself for some effort."Tell me! Did you hear what I said just now--as you passed the door?"
"Do you mean about not believing that your father was a suicide?" askedMinnie, in a low voice.
"Yes."
"I--I heard you."
"Then the only thing you can do is to help me prove otherwise," saidViola. "That would be the greatest help. It can't be true, and we wantthat made plain. Father never killed himself. He was not that kind ofman. He did not fear death, but he would not go deliberately to meet it.It is not true that he killed himself!" and Viola's voice seemed to ringout.
A strange look came over the face of Minnie Webb. There was a great pityshining in her eyes as she said:
"I--I am sorry, Viola, but--but I am afraid it may be true."
"What! That my father committed suicide?"
"Yes," whispered Minnie. "I--I'm afraid it may be true!"