CHAPTER XVI
Buddy
"Now that the money is paid, Phyllis, dear, and the whole matter ishushed up, Louis will never be suspected of having had anything to dowith that Bill Halsey gang. It was a narrow escape--if the story hadcome out, it would have stained the boy's reputation badly. But,thanks to your quick action and watchful care, your brother isreleased from their clutches and you need worry about that no more."
"Thanks, too, to your kindness in letting me have the money. I willrepay you just as soon as Mr Lane settles financial matters enough togive it to me out of my inheritance."
"No hurry about it. Instead of that, let's talk about ourselves. Whenare you going to let me give you a ring?"
"Oh, not yet," and Phyllis looked distressed. "Wait till this awfulmatter of the Gleason death is explained."
"Will it ever be?" Pollard spoke gravely, and added, "Do you want itto be?"
"Oh," she cried, "don't look like that! Do _you_ suspect Louis,too? Buddy never did it! Never!"
"No, of course he didn't. Do you sometimes think Phil----"
"Philip Barry! No! He says he did, to shield my brother----"
"And you."
"Me!"
"Yes. Let's speak frankly, Phyllis. I can't bear to fence or quibblewith you. Now, you know, you and Louis were there----"
"Oh, no, we weren't--well--maybe we were--oh, I don't know what I'msaying."
"Poor little girl. Don't try to make up stories to me. Tell me justhow it was--or, don't tell me anything--as you wish, but don't tell mewhat isn't so. I can't help you if you do that."
Phyllis looked at him searchingly. She trusted him--and yet, shehesitated to put into words her own suspicions of Louis.
"I'm sure Phil Barry is shielding some one else," she began.
"But, dear, that letter--how could that have been written, except byBarry?"
"Now, don't you prevaricate to me!" she cried; "you know whatever isthe explanation of the letter, Phil Barry isn't guilty!"
"I don't know any such thing! If Barry wrote the letter, he must havemeant something by it, and until he is proved innocent, there's goodreason for suspecting him."
"Don't you suspect Louis?" Phyllis asked directly, facing Pollard witha straightforward gaze.
"Don't ask me, dear. If I did--if I do--I wouldn't say so,because--because I love you. Confide in me--please do, darling. If yoususpect your brother, tell me so, and I'll do all I can to divertsuspicion from him."
"Even if you think him guilty?"
"Certainly. If Louis did it--he was blinded by rage, or, moved by asudden homicidal impulse born of desperation----"
"But that doesn't excuse him."
"Not to the law--but to me, he is excused because he is yourbrother----"
"Yes, my brother--my little Buddy--oh, Manning, I can't face it!"
"You weren't there, too--at the time?"
"At the time of the murder? Oh, no!" Phyllis' eyes were wide withhorror.
"Do you know that Louis was there?"
Pollard pressed the question, glad that Phyllis had abandonedpretense, and was telling truths.
"Yes, I do." The pained eyes looked beseechingly into his. "I have theevidence of an eye-witness--or, nearly."
"What do you mean by nearly?"
"Why, somebody else was there, who didn't see Louis, but who heardhim--or, rather, heard Mr Gleason talking to him."
"Is that all? Phyllis, that isn't enough to convict Louis!"
"Isn't it? But, if they accuse him--he'll break down and confess. Iknow Buddy; as soon as a breath of suspicion touches him he'll go allto pieces----"
"Whether he's guilty or not?"
Phyllis stared. "Why, no, of course not if he isn't guilty. Oh,Manning, do you think he isn't? Tell me you do!"
"I wish I could, darling. But, I do say, there's no real evidence andwe may be able to prevent any from coming to light. Even if Louis wasthere, didn't he leave before the time of the attack?"
"I don't know. I can't find out. I daren't mention it to him. Oh,Buddy, dear--I'm sure you never did it!"
"I'm sure, too," said Pollard, decidedly, and, whatever was in hismind there was conviction in his tone. "Now, see here, Phyllis, let'sdo nothing in the matter. As near as I can make out, Barry'sconfession is not believed at all by the police. They are sure he'sshielding some one, but they don't know who it is. Of course, Barrywon't tell, so Louis is safe."
"But suppose they do come to believe Phil, and he is arrested!"
"Not a chance."
"But if they should?"
"Would you care so much?" Pollard spoke softly, and tenderly. "If itshould mean Louis' safety----"
"At the expense of an innocent man? Oh, impossible!"
"But you love Buddy----"
"I do, yes--but if he is guilty--nobody else can be allowed to sufferin his place. Least of all, Phil Barry."
Phyllis said the name, with a gentler light in her eyes, a softerinflection of her voice, and Pollard felt a sudden chill at his heart.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, quietly, "anything especial?"
"No--oh, no," but Phyllis blushed.
"Remember, dear, you're engaged to me," Pollard said, smiling at her."I resent such implications of any other interest of yours."
"You resent my interest in Phil Barry! Why, I thought he was your bestfriend."
"He is. But he can't be yours. Not your best friend--onlysecond-best."
"Well, he's too dear a friend for me to let any undeserved suspicionfall on him," and Phyllis' eyes shone with righteous indignation.
"First, we must be sure it is undeserved."
"Very well, I will make sure!"
With a determined gesture, Phyllis pushed a bell button and a maidresponded.
"Ask Mr Lindsay to come here," Phyllis directed, and then turning toPollard with a pretty gesture of confidence, she said:
"Let's work together, Manning. You see what you think of the way Louismeets my questions. I've decided to meet the issue straight."
"What is it, Sis?" asked Louis, coming into the room. "What do youwant of me? Hello, Pollard, how are you?"
"Buddy, dear," Phyllis began, "where were you the day Mr Gleasondied?"
"Out with it Phyl. Do you think I killed him?"
Louis looked at his sister. The boy was haggard, pale and worriedlooking, but he met her eye and awaited her answer to his question.
"No, Louis, I can't think so--but there are circumstances that make itappear possible, and I want your word."
"Well, then, Phyllis, I didn't do it."
Calmly the brother gazed at the sister. Anxiously, Phyllis scanned thewell-known face, the affectionate eyes, the sensitive, quiveringmouth, but though agitated, Louis had himself well in hand, and hisfrank speech carried conviction.
Phyllis drew a long breath.
"I believe you, Buddy," she said.
Pollard was quiet for a moment, and then observed, "All right,Lindsay. And, in that case, you're probably willing to tell all aboutyour presence there that afternoon. Why haven't you done so?"
Pollard's tone was not accusing so much as one of friendly inquiry,and Louis, after a moment's hesitation, replied:
"Why, Pol, I suppose I was a coward. I was afraid, if I admitted I wasin Gleason's place that afternoon, I might be suspected of thecrime--and I'm innocent--before God, I am."
The solemn voice rang true, and Phyllis clasped his hand as she said,"I know it, Buddy, I know you never did it!"
"But, if it comes out I was there, I can't help being suspected,"Louis went on, a look of terror coming to his face. "I--oh, I hate toconfess it, but I _am_ afraid. Not afraid of justice--but afraidI'll be accused of something I didn't do!"
"You would, too, Louis," Pollard said. "Better keep still about thewhole matter, I think. You see, Louis, except for the murderer, youare probably the last one who saw Gleason alive. Now, that, in itselfis troublesome evidence, especially if the murderer doesn't turn up.That is why, I th
ink, my theory of the stranger from the West isundoubtedly the true one. You see, none of the people hereabouts--Imean you, Barry, Davenport, myself, or any of us Club men could havebeen down there so late, and then turned up here for the dinner party.Of course, that would have been possible, but highly improbable. Whilean outsider, a man known to Gleason but not to any of use, could havecome and gone at will."
"He had to reach the Gleason apartment soon after Buddy left," Phyllismused, thinking it out. "Well, Manning, I'm convinced of Buddy'sinnocence. My boy can't lie to me! I know him too well. He is worriedand anxious about the suspicions that may attach to him, but he'sabsolutely innocent of crime, aren't you, dear?"
And Louis looked into his sister's face, and quietly replied, "Yes,Phyllis," and she believed him.
"Now," she said, "I'm going to free Phil Barry."
"You!" exclaimed Pollard. "Are you going to turn detective?"
"I'm going to help the detectives work," she declared. "Or, rather,I'm going to get a detective that can work. I don't think much of whathas been accomplished so far. I'm going to get another detective----"
"A private detective?" asked Pollard. "Better be careful, dear. Don'tget mixed up in this thing too deeply."
"No, I won't. I'm not going to do anything myself. But, I want to tellyou something. Ivy Hayes knows of a girl----"
"Ivy Hayes!" exclaimed Louis, while Pollard raising his eyebrows,murmured, "A girl!"
"I seem to have exploded two bombshells!" said Phyllis, smiling.
She was in better spirits now, since the assurance of Louis that hewas not guilty.
"But it is the truth. Ivy Hayes knows of a girl detective----"
"Oh, Phyllis, don't!" begged Pollard. "A private detective is badenough--but a girl one! Please don't."
"But she's a wonder--Ivy says so."
"Sister, for goodness' sake, don't tell me you know Ivy Hayes!"
"Certainly I do, Louis. If you may know her why can't I? And I likeher, too. And she'll get this person for me, and I know Millicent willagree----"
"Quite a feminine bunch," Pollard laughed. "Do you think you and MrsLindsay and Miss Hayes and the girl sleuth can succeed where severalmen have failed?"
"That's just what I do think," cried Phyllis, triumphantly. "This isthe era of feminine achievement, and why not in detection as well asin other lines?"
"Have it your own way," said Pollard, looking at her fondly. "I mustgo now, but if I can help you--though, being a mere man, I suppose Ican't----"
"Oh, yes, you can," Phyllis smiled at him. "I'll be only too glad tocall upon you for assistance." Pollard left, and Phyllis at oncecalled Ivy on the telephone to get more information about the girldetective.
"Oh, it isn't a girl!" Ivy replied; "that is, it is a girl, but it's aman, too. They're associated, you see. Of course, the man is the headof the firm--but the girl, who is his assistant, does quite as much ofthe work as he does. And, she's my friend, that's why I spoke of heras the detective. But he's the one to call on. He's PenningtonWise--they call him Penny Wise--how could they help it! Well, he'syour man, and she's your girl. I used to know her, when we were bothkids, and I don't see her often nowadays, but we're good friends, andshe's a wonder."
"You're a wonder, too, Ivy," Phyllis said; "thank you lots and heaps.Give me the address, and I'll excuse you."
Ivy gave the number, and Phyllis went at once and told the story toMillicent.
"Oh, do get him!" cried Mrs Lindsay. "I've heard of Penny Wise--he's awizard! I don't know anything about his girl assistant--but thatdoesn't matter. Penny Wise is great! I've often heard of him. He'sfrightfully expensive, but they say he never loses a case. But,Phyllis, I never suspected Louis! How could you think I did!But--don't faint now--I do suspect Phil Barry!"
"It doesn't matter much whom you suspect to-day, Millicent, it will besomebody else to-morrow! Aren't you about due to suspect me again?"
"You! oh, Phyllis, don't remind me of the foolish things I said, whenI was hysterical and almost crazy! You know how you'd feel if Louishad been killed! You'd suspect anybody!"
"All right, Millicent, I'll forget it. But I don't believe for oneminute that Philip Barry is the guilty man."
"You don't! Why, Phyllis, I thought you did!"
"Oh, I don't know what I think," and Phyllis broke down and sobbed.
"There, there, dear child," Millicent soothed her. "Don't cry. You'reall worried to pieces. Now, let's get the Wise man, and then you shiftall care and anxiety on to him."
"But, Millicent, suppose he should prove it to be Phil!"
"If it is Phil, he ought to be shown up. We can't stop now, forsentiment or preference. We must go ahead and prove positively who isthe criminal."
When Millicent took the tone of an avenging justice, she was almosthumorous, so ill did the role fit her. But she was in earnest, and sheimmediately set to work to engage the services of Pennington Wise.
Her efforts were vain, however, as the detective politely informed herthat his press of business would not permit him to take on anothercase at present.
Greatly disappointed, she told Phyllis, who at once told Ivy Hayes,over the telephone, of her defeat.
"Huh," said the young woman, "won't come, won't he? Well, I guess hewill. Expect him this evening, to talk over the preliminaries."
For the sanguine Ivy felt sure her childhood friend could somehowpersuade the great detective to meet the engagement she had justcommitted him to.
"Zizi," Miss Hayes later remarked, to her friend, "You just simply gotto take on the Gleason case. You hear me?"
"Hear you perfectly," Zizi's engaging little voice replied. "But----"
"No buts. You just do it. Why, Ziz, it's all mixed up with friends ofmine. And say, dearie, I want you to do it for old times' sake."
"But, Ivy, truly----"
"Truly you will? All right, Ziz. You make Penny Wise stand around--youfix it somehow--and you send him or go yourself to the Lindsay homethis evening at eight o'clock. Love and kisses. Your own Ivy."
Ivy hung up the receiver, satisfied that if her friend didn't orcouldn't meet her wishes, she would call her up and tell her so. Nothearing from Zizi, Ivy concluded all was going well.
And it was. Zizi, the wonderful little assistant of the greatdetective, coaxed and finally persuaded him to take the case, assuringhim that she, herself, would do most of the work. She put it on thegrounds of a personal favor to herself, and as this was so unusual acondition as to be almost unique, Pennington Wise gave in.
And so, promptly at eight, he presented himself at the Lindsays' andwas received with welcome.
For an hour Wise listened to the accounts of the case from the threeLindsays. No one else was present, and Wise asked them to tell him allthey could, both of direct evidence or their own leanings orsuspicions.
The detective was a man of great personal magnetism. Tall and strong,his very bearing inspired confidence and hope. His face was fine andmobile, his wavy chestnut hair, brushed over back, was fine and thick,and his keen blue eyes took in everything without any undue curiosity.
He was both receptive and responsive, and in an hour he had thehistory of the case, clearly and definitely in his mind.
"Now, then," he said, "we can admit of several suspects already. Therewas a motive, let us say, for any one who benefited by Mr Gleason'swill. That includes Mr and Miss as well as Mrs Lindsay."
Millicent frowned at him. "Me!" she cried, explosively.
"I only say you benefited by the will," said Wise, mildly. "I have asmuch right to mention your name as those of the other two."
"Louis didn't get anything from the will," said Phyllis.
"He did, in a way," the detective returned. "You're so fond of yourbrother, that whatever is yours, is pretty much the same as belongingto him. Now, I'm not going to consider you two ladies as suspects atall. But Mr Lindsay's cause I shall look into."
Louis colored, angrily, and was about to make a sharp retort, when thekindness of Wise's express
ion caught his notice, and he suddenlydecided he'd like to be friends with the detective.
"Look into it all you like," he said, with an air of relief at givinghis troubles over to this capable person. "I'm glad to have you. Yousee, Mr Wise, I was there so fearfully close to the time of the crime,that I've been afraid to have it known how close."
"Don't be afraid, my boy. If you're guilty I'll find it out, anyway;and if not, you've more to gain than lose by being frank and honest."
"Who are your other suspects?" Phyllis asked, anxiously.
"Everybody," said Wise, smiling at her. "First, Doctor Davenport----"
"Oh, no!"
"First, Doctor Davenport, because, he first raised the alarm. Next, MrPollard, because he declared an intention of killing Mr Gleason. Next,Mr Monroe, because----"
"Dean Monroe!" exclaimed Louis, "why he has never been thought of!"
"That's the answer!" said Wise. "He was in that group who discussedmurder that afternoon, he went away, his subsequent movements have notbeen traced, and, as you say, he's never been questioned or eventhought of in the matter. Therefore, I investigate his case."
"And Philip Barry?" Phyllis could hold back the question no longer.
"Ah, yes, Mr Barry." Pennington Wise looked at her. "You areinterested in him? Especially? Forgive me if I seem intrusive. I amnot really, but I have to know some things to know how to go aboutothers."
"Miss Lindsay is engaged to Mr Pollard," Millicent informed theinquirer. "She's a firm friend of Mr Barry's, but, I think you oughtto know that Manning Pollard is her fiance."
"Yes," Phyllis said, as Wise asked the question by a glance. "I amengaged to Mr Pollard, but I don't want Mr Barry suspected."
"Not if he did it?"
"He didn't do it."
"But the letter? He wrote that?"
"No; he did not."
"He says he did. It is signed by him. It is in keeping with his natureand his attitude toward Mr Gleason. Why do you say he didn't writeit?"
"I don't know, Mr Wise. I have a feeling, a conviction that somebodyforged that letter."
"But how would that be possible?"
"I don't know. I can't tell you. But I'm sure."
"I haven't seen the letter yet, Miss Lindsay," Pennington Wise lookedat her reflectively. "And until I do, I can't speak positively. ButI've read up this case, more or less, and I can't see how a forgerycould pass the experts as this has done. I incline to think it isgenuine. But it need not have implied murder at all."
"No," repeated Phyllis, "he didn't write it. I know he didn't."
"If he didn't, trust me to find it out," Wise reassured her. And, asthey heard the bell ring, "I dare say that's my little assistant. Sheagreed to come later. I want you to like her."
"I know I shall," said Phyllis, enthusiastically; "I've heard about herfrom Miss Hayes."
And in another moment Zizi appeared in the doorway.