CHAPTER V
Mrs Mansfield's Story
"Distrust the obvious, Prescott," said Belknap, didactically. "It isthe astute detective's weak point that he cannot see beyond theapparent--the evident--the obvious."
"Oh, yes," Prescott sniffed; "distrust the obvious is as hackneyed aphrase as _Cherchez la femme!_ and about as useful in our everyday work. You make a noise like a Detective Story."
"And they're the Big Noise, nowadays," Belknap returned, unruffled.
"All the same," and Prescott spoke doggedly, "when a guy says he'sgoing to kill somebody, and that somebody is found croaked a few hourslater, seems to me----"
"Seems to me, your guy is the last person in the world to suspect.It's the obvious----"
"Yes, an obvious that I sorta hate to distrust!"
"Nonsense! And you've disposed of Pollard anyway, haven't you."
"Yes, I have. Half a dozen people were in touch with him all throughthe time of the murder. He's out of it."
Prescott looked as disheartened as he felt.
"And you've wasted good time tracking him down, when you might havebeen investigating the evidence while it was fresh! I'm disappointedin you, Prescott; you oughtn't to have fallen for a steer like that."
Belknap was the Assistant District Attorney, and the Gleason caseseemed to him important and absorbing. In his office the morning afterthe murder, he was getting all the information Prescott could givehim, and he was really disgusted with the detective for havingfollowed up the wild goose chase of Manning Pollard's impulsive speechabout the Western millionaire.
Belknap was an earnest, honest investigator, not so much brilliant bydeduction as clear-sighted, hard-headed and practical.
He distrusted the obvious, not so much because of the hackneyedaphorism as because his own experience had proved to him that ninetimes out of ten, or oftener, the obvious was wrong. It must be lookedinto, of course, but not to the exclusion of other evidence or theneglect of other lines of investigation. And now, he felt, the trailhad cooled somewhat, and valuable clews might be lost because ofPrescott's conviction of Pollard's guilt.
Belknap was of a higher mentality than Pollard, and he also was a manof more education and refinement. He was especially interested on thiscase, for the Lindsays were an exclusive family and kept themselvesout of the limelight of publicity.
But there were rumors that the lovely daughter was a harum-scarum,that the son of the house was addicted to bright lights and highstakes, and that the still young stepmother was quite as fond ofsocial life as her two charges.
But never were their names seen on the society columns or in thegossip papers and now, Belknap reflected, they could be approached byreporters.
Indeed, he saw himself admitted to that hitherto inaccessible home,and in imagination he was already preening himself for the occasion.
But Belknap was methodical, and he was preparing to go at once to theGleason apartment, to begin his line of investigation.
"How does Mrs Lindsay act?" he allowed himself to ask as he andPrescott started for Washington Square.
"Oh, I don't know," returned Prescott; "about like you'd expect asister to act. She was fond of her brother, I take it, but--well, Ididn't see much of her; still, I've a vague impression that she'srevengeful--anxious to find and punish the murderer--that struck memore than her grief."
"You can't tell. She may be sorrowing deeply, and also be desirous ofavenging her brother's death. No question of suicide?"
"Not now, no. There was at first. But an autopsy showed the secondshot was fired first."
"What do you mean?"
"The one they thought was second was first. It seems the firstshot--through the temple--killed Gleason. And then, for someunexplained reason, the slayer fired again, through the dead man'sshoulder."
"Whatever for? And how do they know?"
"Oh, the doctors could tell, by the blood coagulation or something. Asto why it was done, I've no idea. What's the obvious--I want todistrust it."
"Don't be too funny, Prescott. This is a big case. Not only because ofthe prominence of the people involved, but it's pretty mysterious, Ithink. We ought to get something out of the other people in thehouse."
"Not a chance. I tried it."
Belknap said nothing, but a close observer might have thought hissilence not altogether an assent to Prescott's corollary.
"In fact," Prescott went on, "I believe you'll find your murdereramong Gleason's own bunch. Not the people in the house he lived in.You see that place was wished on him by a friend, and Gleason hatedit. I got this from those men who know him. Miss Lindsay agreed to it.Gleason meant to move out--only took it because it was represented tohim as a bijou apartment, and he thought it was a luxurious littlenest--and, it isn't. As you can now see for yourself."
At the house, Prescott pushed the button below McIlvaine's card, andafter a moment the door clicked, and grudgingly, as it seemed, moveditself a little, and Prescott pushed it open.
"That's the way the murderer got in," he said positively.
"Maybe not," demurred Belknap. "Maybe he came in with Gleason."
"Oh, maybe he came in at the window, or down the chimney!" exclaimedPrescott shortly; "you can't admit the obvious ever, can you?"
Belknap chuckled at the other's quick temper, and they went upstairs.
They found Policeman Kelly in charge, and he greeted them gladly.
"Get busy," he said, genially. "Sure, there's enough to engage yourattention."
Belknap, beyond a word of greeting, ignored the officer, and took aswift, comprehensive survey of the place.
It was a large front room, apparently library and cutting room. Abedroom was back of it and a bath room behind that. An old house,quite evidently remodeled for bachelor or small family apartments.
Though up to date as to plumbing, lighting and decoration, the windowand door frames proclaimed it an old building. The furniture was overornate, and the pictures and ornaments a bit flamboyant. But it was acomfortable enough place, and the personal belongings of the deadGleason were scattered about and gave a homey appearance. A silverframed photograph of Mrs Lindsay was on a table, and on another weretwo more portraits of less distinguished-looking ladies.
"That's Ivy Hayes, the movie star," Kelly said, as Belknap looked atone picture.
"I know it," the attorney said, so shortly that Kelly lapsed intosilence.
"Nothing been disturbed?" Belknap asked presently, and receiving anegative answer went on observing.
Kelly winked at Prescott, with an expression that said, "I like 'emmore sociable, myself!" and Prescott nodded acquiescence.
But at last Belknap began to talk.
"Dressing for dinner, they tell me," he said.
"Yes," said Prescott, eagerly, "I was here right away, quick, youknow. They took the body to the Funeral Rooms, early this morning. Buthe was in his shirt sleeves--day shirt----"
"Yes, here are all his evening clothes on the bed in the next room.Was he going to the Lindsay dinner?"
"Yes, he was. I believe he said it was to be the occasion of theannouncement of his engagement to Miss Lindsay----"
"Does she say that?"
"She does not! She denies it."
"Then you'd better keep still. You have no gumption, Prescott. Don'tyou see you mustn't say those things?"
"Oh, bother! let up on knocking me, and get down to business. Don'ttouch the telephone or revolver. I've had them photographed forfingerprints."
"Yes, that's good." Belknap was getting more genial. "Anybody beenthrough his papers?"
"No; Lane is his lawyer, Fred Lane. He's coming here to-day to lookover them."
"All right." Belknap was already absorbed in the loose papersscattered on the desk. "Several notes from ladies."
"Yes, I noticed them. Old Gleason had a few friends in the chorus, Ijudge. But, unless they have any bearing on the case, there's no callto exploit 'em, eh?"
"No, of course not. Nor any reason to mention
them to the Lindsays."
"They'll know all there is to know. You can't fool 'em. Miss Phyllisis as wide-awake as they come, and the Mrs is nobody's fool. The boy,I don't think much of. Say, aren't you going up there? Don't you wantto see them?"
"Later, yes. But me for the other tenants here, first. Here's whereGleason lay, was it? Near the telephone table--look here, if the firstshot did for him, how could he telephone to the doctor that he waswounded?"
"Oh, I don't know! I don't believe that dope about the doctors knowingwhich shot came first. And, as you say, it couldn't have been thefatal one first, or how could he have phoned? Anyway he could onlyhave called the doctor if it was a suicide. You don't think, do you,that the murderer would stand by and let him call up!"
"Scarcely. That's why I haven't given up the idea that it was asuicide."
"Never mind, Oscar, you will. Why, that man was too happy to killhimself. His friends all say so. No, he was shot, all right, but thetwo shots make a mystery that I can't get yet."
Belknap frowned deeply, and thought for a few moments.
"Great mistake," he said at last, "to reason from insufficient data."
"Another of your 'familiar quotations,'" chaffed Prescott.
"Another good rule," retorted the attorney, and went out in the hall.
Prescott followed and together they went to the Mansfields' apartment.
"We've been thinking it over," Mrs Mansfield said, after she hadadmitted her callers and taken them to her living room, "and myhusband and I feel we ought to tell all we know."
"You certainly ought to," Belknap assured her.
"Well," the blonde head nodded mysteriously, "that man, Gleason, hewas a gay old bird."
"Just what do you mean, Mrs Mansfield? Speak plainly," adjuredBelknap.
"Oh, well," she shrugged her shoulders pettishly, for she was the sortof woman who loved innuendo better than statement. "I don't know thegirls, of course, I'm not in that class of society, but he did havegay looking girls coming to his apartment now and then."
"Every day?" Belknap looked at her sharply.
"Oh, my land, no, not every day. Just now and then?"
"Every other day?"
"No," pettishly.
"Maybe once a week?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe, you saw one, once----"
Mrs Mansfield laughed out.
"That's it, Mr Belknap," she said. "How you do pin me down. Well, allI can swear to is one time I did see a fly little piece of baggage goin at his door."
"Day or night?"
"Daytime." Mrs Mansfield spoke aggrievedly, as if all the zest hadbeen taken out of her news.
"Humph! And she might have been his lawyer's stenographer, with animportant paper."
"She might not!" Mrs Mansfield declined to lose her last shred ofexcitement. "Stenographers are flippy enough, Lord knows! But thislittle snipjack, now, she was a real little vamp!"
"You don't know her?"
"My land! I guess I don't! I'm a respectable married woman----"
"And probably she is a respectable unmarried woman----"
"Coming to see a man in his apartment?"
"Well, until we know the circumstances we can't judge her. I say,Prescott, get that photograph, will you. You know, the----"
"I know," and Prescott went back across the hall. He returned with thepicture of the girl Kelly had called Ivy Hayes.
"This the lady?"
"That's the one," said Mrs Mansfield, drawing away from it, "butshe's no lady."
"Oh, come, now, you don't know her. She's a little moving pictureactress. She may have had business with Mr Gleason."
"She may have!" and the disdainful lady sniffed. "But it's none of_my_ business, and I don't care to discuss her."
"You say you saw her go in there, yesterday?"
"Good land, no! I didn't say yesterday! I said, one day."
"All right, I'm glad you told us about it. It might mean something andit might not."
"Of course, it means something!" Mrs Mansfield didn't want her newsscorned as naught. "An actress calling on a man like that--of courseit means something!"
"If it does we'll find it out," Belknap said. "You don't think thislittle thing shot Gleason, do you?"
"I don't know why she couldn't. Little women have done such deeds."
"So they have. Now, you've nothing more to tell us?"
But though Mrs Mansfield said quite a bit more, she had really nothingmore to tell them that they wanted to hear, and they got away, thoughwith some difficulty, for the lady was of a garrulous type.
To the floor above Belknap went, Prescott returning to the Gleasonrooms to look about.
The apartment above McIlvaine's was occupied by a spinster named Adamswho was, as the attorney deduced, from New England.
This good lady was even more disgusted than Mrs Mansfield with thewhole matter of Gleason, his life and death. More especially the lastfor, it seemed to her, no one had a right to die a violent death underthe same roof with refined and conservative people.
"Why, he was a loud-voiced man," declared Miss Adams, as ifpronouncing the last and worst word of opprobrium.
"Ah, you heard him from up here?"
"Sometimes, yes. He had chums visit him, and they would laugh and talkso loudly, I couldn't help hearing them."
"Could you distinguish what they said?"
"No; not words. But I could hear well enough to know whether he wasmerry or angry--for, I assure you, sometimes he was the latter."
"Did you hear anything from that apartment yesterday?"
"Oh, yes, I heard the two shots."
"You did! What did you do?"
"Nothing. What should I do? As a matter of fact I didn't think theywere shots. I thought them tire explosions or some noise in thestreet. But after I knew about the murder, I realized that I had heardthe fatal shot."
"Yet you said nothing to anybody?"
"Man alive, what could I say? I had nothing to do with Mr Gleason orhis murder----"
"But your duty as a citizen----"
"Look here, what do you mean? Where was any duty? You people--youpolice people knew the shots were fired, didn't you? Then why should Iinform anybody that they were? And that's all I knew--or know aboutthem. They were fired. I heard them. No more."
The sharp-featured, sharp-tongued old maid sat bolt upright in herchair, and glared at Belknap. Her hair was drawn up in a tight knot,after the fashion of New England spinsters, and Belknap wondered whatit was about her appearance that seemed so strange.
Then he realized it was her exposed ears! He had not seen a woman withbared ears for so long that it looked most peculiar to him.
For the rest, Miss Adams was angular, even gaunt, and apparently of adecided and forceful nature. And her testimony might be valuable.
"Your knowledge is of importance," he said, gravely. "To be sure weknow the shots were fired, but a witness is always of interest. Whattime was it that you heard the shots?"
"I've no idea," she returned, carelessly. "Oh, I know, in the storybooks, the witness always knows, because he was just going to keep anengagement--or, setting his watch, or something. But I don't know atall."
"You are quite conversant with detective stories, though!"
"Yes. I read them, since they're getting so popular. Anything more youwant to ask?"
"Yes, please. I want to try to fix the time of those shots."
"And I tell you I can't do it. Look here, did you meet any one youknow, on the street yesterday afternoon?"
"Why, yes, I did--I met two or three."
"All right. Mention one."
"Well--a Mr Hartley."
"All right, what time did you meet him?"
"I don't know exactly----"
"About?"
"Oh, about half-past four or five--no, it was later----"
"There!" triumphantly. "It is not easy to state the time, when youpaid no special attention to the occurrence."
"You've proved your po
int, Miss Adams!" Belknap exclaimed, looking ather with new interest. "I wish you _had_ noted the time--youwould have done so accurately."
"Yes, I should have. But I didn't. Now, when I tell you that's all Iknow about the whole matter, will you go away and leave me in peace?"
"No; Miss Adams, I won't!"
"Why not?" and to Belknap's satisfaction she turned a shade paler.
"Because, I am sure you do know more. You are too cute to be soignorant. Your smartness has overreached itself. You're trying todisarm me by the appearance of absolute frankness, and you almost didso--but--I've--well, I've got a hunch that you know something else."
"I swear I don't," and Miss Adams set her thin lips in a tight,straight line. "You go away."
"I'm going, I've much to do. But I warn you I shall return. You knowsomething, Miss Adams, something of importance, but I do not think youare yourself implicated. Moreover, what you know frightens you alittle, and you don't want to tell it. Now, if I can get all theinformation I want, without yours, well and good. If not, I shall comeback for yours. And don't try running away--for you won't get far!"
"Are--are you going to have me watched!" she gasped.
"No--not quite that. But if you attempt flight, we may have to followyou."
As a matter of fact, the astute Belknap had sized up the old maidpretty carefully, and was convinced that what little she knew wasunimportant to him, though it doubtless seemed vital to her. Also, hehad no time just now, to persuade or wheedle her, and he fearedfrightening her would do little good. So, he concluded to wait and seewhat else he could find out, before seeing her again. A woman on thefloor above could easily know something definite, yet somehow MissAdams did not impress him as doing so.
He went downstairs, and looking in the door, said, "Come on, Prescott,let's go up to the Lindsays' and start out right."
"All right. Wait a minute, come in here, will you? We've got word fromthe photographer, and there are no fingerprints on the revolver or onthe telephone except Gleason's own."
"What! Suicide? No, not possible, if the fatal shot was fired first."
"It was. I just called up Doctor Davenport, and he hedged at first,but then he acknowledged it was true. The shot in the shoulder wasfired after the man was already dead. Now, what do you make of that!Why, in heaven's name shoot a dead man?"
Belknap looked thoughtful. "It's a deep game somebody's playing," hesaid. "We've got our work cut out for us. Come along, let's get busy.Guard everything mighty carefully, Kelly. Don't let anybody in, butpeople who belong. Our criminal is a slick one, and no obviousmeasures go, this time. No fingerprints! Some expert, that murderer!"