Read The Leavenworth Case Page 5


  V. EXPERT TESTIMONY

  “And often-times, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence.”

  Macbeth.

  IN the midst of the universal gloom thus awakened there came a sharpring at the bell. Instantly all eyes turned toward the parlor door,just as it slowly opened, and the officer who had been sent off somysteriously by the coroner an hour before entered, in company with ayoung man, whose sleek appearance, intelligent eye, and general air oftrustworthiness, seemed to proclaim him to be, what in fact he was, theconfidential clerk of a responsible mercantile house.

  Advancing without apparent embarrassment, though each and every eye inthe room was fixed upon him with lively curiosity, he made a slight bowto the coroner.

  “You have sent for a man from Bohn & Co.,” he said.

  Strong and immediate excitement. Bohn & Co. was the well-known pistoland ammunition store of ---- Broadway.

  “Yes, sir,” returned the coroner. “We have here a bullet, which we mustask you to examine, You are fully acquainted with all matters connectedwith your business?”

  The young man, merely elevating an expressive eyebrow, took the bulletcarelessly in his hand.

  “Can you tell us from what make of pistol that was delivered?”

  The young man rolled it slowly round between his thumb and forefinger,and then laid it down. “It is a No. 32 ball, usually sold with the smallpistol made by Smith & Wesson.”

  “A small pistol!” exclaimed the butler, jumping up from his seat.“Master used to keep a little pistol in his stand drawer. I have oftenseen it. We all knew about it.”

  Great and irrepressible excitement, especially among the servants.“That’s so!” I heard a heavy voice exclaim. “I saw it oncemyself--master was cleaning it.” It was the cook who spoke.

  “In his stand drawer?” the coroner inquired.

  “Yes, sir; at the head of his bed.”

  An officer was sent to examine the stand drawer. In a few moments hereturned, bringing a small pistol which he laid down on the coroner’stable, saying, “Here it is.”

  Immediately, every one sprang to his feet, but the coroner, handingit over to the clerk from Bonn’s, inquired if that was the make beforementioned. Without hesitation he replied, “Yes, Smith & Wesson; you cansee for yourself,” and he proceeded to examine it.

  “Where did you find this pistol?” asked the coroner of the officer.

  “In the top drawer of a shaving table standing near the head of Mr.Leavenworth’s bed. It was lying in a velvet case together with a boxof cartridges, one of which I bring as a sample,” and he laid it downbeside the bullet.

  “Was the drawer locked?”

  “Yes, sir; but the key was not taken out.”

  Interest had now reached its climax. A universal cry swept through theroom, “Is it loaded?”

  The coroner, frowning on the assembly, with a look of great dignity,remarked:

  “I was about to ask that question myself, but first I must requestorder.”

  An immediate calm followed. Every one was too much interested tointerpose any obstacle in the way of gratifying his curiosity.

  “Now, sir!” exclaimed the coroner.

  The clerk from Bonn’s, taking out the cylinder, held it up. “There areseven chambers here, and they are all loaded.”

  A murmur of disappointment followed this assertion.

  “But,” he quietly added after a momentary examination of the face ofthe cylinder, “they have not all been loaded long. A bullet has beenrecently shot from one of these chambers.”

  “How do you know?” cried one of the jury.

  “How do I know? Sir,” said he, turning to the coroner, “will you be kindenough to examine the condition of this pistol?” and he handed it overto that gentleman. “Look first at the barrel; it is clean and bright,and shows no evidence of a bullet having passed out of it very lately;that is because it has been cleaned. But now, observe the face of thecylinder: what do you see there?”

  “I see a faint line of smut near one of the chambers.”

  “Just so; show it to the gentlemen.”

  It was immediately handed down.

  “That faint line of smut, on the edge of one of the chambers, is thetelltale, sirs. A bullet passing out always leaves smut behind. The manwho fired this, remembering the fact, cleaned the barrel, but forgot thecylinder.” And stepping aside he folded his arms.

  “Jerusalem!” spoke out a rough, hearty voice, “isn’t that wonderful!” This exclamation came from a countryman who had stepped in from thestreet, and now stood agape in the doorway.

  It was a rude but not altogether unwelcome interruption. A smile passedround the room, and both men and women breathed more easily. Order beingat last restored, the officer was requested to describe the position ofthe stand, and its distance from the library table.

  “The library table is in one room, and the stand in another. Toreach the former from the latter, one would be obliged to crossMr. Leavenworth’s bedroom in a diagonal direction, pass through thepassageway separating that one apartment from the other, and----”

  “Wait a moment; how does this table stand in regard to the door whichleads from the bedroom into the hall?”

  “One might enter that door, pass directly round the foot of the bedto the stand, procure the pistol, and cross half-way over to thepassage-way, without being seen by any one sitting or standing in thelibrary beyond.”

  “Holy Virgin!” exclaimed the horrified cook, throwing her apron over herhead as if to shut out some dreadful vision. “Hannah niver would havethe pluck for that; niver, niver!” But Mr. Gryce, laying a heavy hand onthe woman, forced her back into her seat, reproving and calming herat the same time, with a dexterity marvellous to behold. “I beg yourpardons,” she cried deprecatingly to those around; “but it niver wasHannah, niver!”

  The clerk from Bohn’s here being dismissed, those assembled took theopportunity of making some change in their position, after which, thename of Mr. Harwell was again called. That person rose with manifestreluctance. Evidently the preceding testimony had either upset sometheory of his, or indubitably strengthened some unwelcome suspicion.

  “Mr. Harwell,” the coroner began, “we are told of the existence of apistol belonging to Mr. Leavenworth, and upon searching, we discover itin his room. Did you know of his possessing such an instrument?”

  “I did.”

  “Was it a fact generally known in the house?”

  “So it would seem.”

  “How was that? Was he in the habit of leaving it around where any onecould see it?”

  “I cannot say; I can only acquaint you with the manner in which I myselfbecame aware of its existence.”

  “Very well, do so.”

  “We were once talking about firearms. I have some taste that way, andhave always been anxious to possess a pocket-pistol. Saying somethingof the kind to him one day, he rose from his seat and, fetching me this,showed it to me.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Some few months since.”

  “He has owned this pistol, then, for some time?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is that the only occasion upon which you have ever seen it?”

  “No, sir,”--the secretary blushed--“I have seen it once since.”

  “When?”

  “About three weeks ago.”

  “Under what circumstances?”

  The secretary dropped his head, a certain drawn look making itselfsuddenly visible on his countenance.

  “Will you not excuse me, gentlemen?” he asked, after a moment’shesitation.

  “It is impossible,” returned the coroner.

  His face grew even more pallid and deprecatory. “I am obliged tointroduce the name of a lady,” he hesitatingly declared.

  “We are very sorry,” remarked the coroner.

  The young man turned fiercely u
pon him, and I could not help wonderingthat I had ever thought him commonplace. “Of Miss Eleanore Leavenworth!” he cried.

  At that name, so uttered, every one started but Mr. Gryce; he wasengaged in holding a close and confidential confab with his finger-tips,and did not appear to notice.

  “Surely it is contrary to the rules of decorum and the respect we allfeel for the lady herself to introduce her name into this discussion,” continued Mr. Harwell. But the coroner still insisting upon an answer,he refolded his arms (a movement indicative of resolution with him), andbegan in a low, forced tone to say:

  “It is only this, gentlemen. One afternoon, about three weeks since, Ihad occasion to go to the library at an unusual hour. Crossing over tothe mantel-piece for the purpose of procuring a penknife which I hadcarelessly left there in the morning, I heard a noise in the adjoiningroom. Knowing that Mr. Leavenworth was out, and supposing the ladies tobe out also, I took the liberty of ascertaining who the intruder was;when what was my astonishment to come upon Miss Eleanore Leavenworth,standing at the side of her uncle’s bed, with his pistol in her hand.Confused at my indiscretion, I attempted to escape without beingobserved; but in vain, for just as I was crossing the threshold, sheturned and, calling me by name, requested me to explain the pistol toher. Gentlemen, in order to do so, I was obliged to take it in my hand;and that, sirs, is the only other occasion upon which I ever saw orhandled the pistol of Mr. Leavenworth.” Drooping his head, he waited inindescribable agitation for the next question.

  “She asked you to explain the pistol to her; what do you mean by that?”

  “I mean,” he faintly continued, catching his breath in a vain effort toappear calm, “how to load, aim, and fire it.”

  A flash of awakened feeling shot across the faces of all present. Eventhe coroner showed sudden signs of emotion, and sat staring at the bowedform and pale countenance of the man before him, with a peculiar look ofsurprised compassion, which could not fail of producing its effect, notonly upon the young man himself, but upon all who saw him.

  “Mr. Harwell,” he at length inquired, “have you anything to add to thestatement you have just made?”

  The secretary sadly shook his head.

  “Mr. Gryce,” I here whispered, clutching that person by the arm anddragging him down to my side; “assure me, I entreat you--” but he wouldnot let me finish.

  “The coroner is about to ask for the young ladies,” he quicklyinterposed. “If you desire to fulfil your duty towards them, be ready,that’s all.”

  Fulfil my duty! The simple words recalled me to myself. What had I beenthinking of; was I mad? With nothing more terrible in mind than a tenderpicture of the lovely cousins bowed in anguish over the remains of onewho had been as dear as a father to them, I slowly rose, and upon demandbeing made for Miss Mary and Miss Eleanore Leavenworth, advanced andsaid that, as a friend of the family--a petty lie, which I hope will notbe laid up against me--I begged the privilege of going for the ladiesand escorting them down.

  Instantly a dozen eyes flashed upon me, and I experienced theembarrassment of one who, by some unexpected word or action, has drawnupon himself the concentrated attention of a whole room.

  But the permission sought being almost immediately accorded, I wasspeedily enabled to withdraw from my rather trying position, findingmyself, almost before I knew it, in the hall, my face aflame, my heartbeating with excitement, and these words of Mr. Gryce ringing in myears: “Third floor, rear room, first door at the head of the stairs. Youwill find the young ladies expecting you.”