CHAPTER VI
The Fur Collar
Prescott, absorbed in the fingerprint matter, went off to see aboutit, leaving Belknap to take up the trail alone.
The attorney concluded to go first to Pollard's, and note for himselfthe attitude of the man who had threatened Gleason's life.
He found Manning Pollard in his rooms at the little hotel, and wasgreeted with courtesy, though with no great cordiality.
"Come in, Mr Belknap," Pollard said, "I can give you a shortinterview, but I've a piece of important work on hand."
"I'll stay only a few minutes," the other said, ingratiatingly, "butI'd like your help. I know all about that remark of yours concerningyour dislike of Mr Gleason. That's past history--though I may say itwill become famous."
"But why?" broke in Pollard, frowning a little. "You must admit thereare lots of people who feel like that----"
"I know, but they don't put it into words. Just as there are lots ofpeople who would steal if they were sure they'd not be caught. Butthey don't, as a rule, advertise this."
"All right, go ahead. You don't suspect me of the murder?"
Pollard's frank glance seemed to compel an honest reply, and Belknapsaid, "I don't--but only because it has been proved that it wasimpossible for you to have been in the vicinity of Gleason's place atthat time."
"You couldn't have much more positive proof, I suppose," and Pollardsmiled. "All right, then, what can I do for you?"
"Tell me whom you suspect." Belknap shot out the words, in an effortto catch Pollard off his guard, for it was the attorney's belief thatthe clubman knew more of the matter than he had told.
"You give me a difficult question, Mr Belknap," Pollard said, in aserious tone. "I daresay everybody has vague suspicions floatingthrough his brain, but to put them in words is--well, might it notstart inquiry in a wrong direction and do ultimate harm?"
"It might, if spoken to the public, but to the investigators of thecase, I think it is your duty to tell all you know."
"Oh, I don't _know_ anything. Not anything. I assure you. But ifI were to express an opinion or make a surmise, I should say look forsome incident in Mr Gleason's private life. I know enough of hischaracter and temperament to feel sure that he had friends amongpeople outside the social pale, and it seems to me there's thedirection in which to look. It's really no secret that Mr Gleasonentertained the sort of young ladies who are usually classed under thegeneral title of 'chorus girls' whether they are in the chorus or not.Look that way, I imagine, and you will, at least, find food forthought."
"You don't know of any particular girl in whom he was interested?"
Pollard stared at him. "I do not. I knew Mr Gleason but slightly. Iknow nothing of his private affairs, and, as I told you, even thesurmise I made is based merely on the man's general characteristics. Ihave heard him refer to the girls I spoke of, but only in generalconversation, and seldom at that. Please understand, I was not only nofriend of Robert Gleason, but scarcely an acquaintance. I never methim more than three or four times."
"Yet you took a positive dislike to him."
"I did. I frequently take dislikes at first sight. Or, I am attractedat first sight. Mine is not a unique nature, Mr Belknap. Many peoplelike or dislike a stranger at first meeting."
"But they don't threaten to kill them."
Pollard reached the end of his patience. "Mr Belknap," he said, "I'mtired of having that remark of mine quoted at me. If it had notchanced that Gleason was killed yesterday, that speech would neverhave been remembered. I do not deny the remark; I do not deny that itwas spoken in earnest. But I do deny that I killed Robert Gleason.Now, if you still suspect me, go to work and bring the crime home tome, if not, let up on your insinuations!"
"All right, I will. I don't believe for a minute that you had a handin it--but I hoped you knew something more definite than you've toldme. And, maybe you do. If for instance, you had suspicion of anyfriend of yours, or an acquaintance, you would, doubtless, try tothrow me off the track, and point my attention to Mr Gleason's littlelady friends."
Pollard looked at his visitor with fresh interest. "You're clevererthan I thought," he said, frankly. "I don't mind telling you that if Idid suspect a friend, the first thing I should do, would be to try tothrow the police off his track."
"Have you no sense of justice--or duty to the state?"
"Quite as much as most people, only I don't pretend to more than Ihave--as most people do. Nine men out of ten would protect a friend,only they wouldn't be so open-mouthed about it."
"That's so; and in a way I'm glad you are so frank. Now, if I come tosuspect any friend of yours, I shall return to you and get someinformation--from the things you _don't_ say!"
"Good for you, Mr Belknap. I like your shrewdness. And, truly, if thetime comes when I can help, without running a friend's head into thenoose, I'll do it."
"And now, I'm going up to the Lindsay house."
"I believe I'll go with you. I may be of some help to them."
"I thought you were so terribly busy!"
Pollard smiled. "I am. But, my business is a movable feast. I'm awriter, you know."
"Yes, I know your two books."
"And I'm just getting out another. I write essays for the magazines,and when I get enough, I bunch 'em up and call it a book."
"And the reviewers call it a good book," Belknap complimented.
"Some of them do. But, I'm my own master--if I neglect my work ithurts no one but myself, and nothing but my own bank account. And so,I'll give up doing a bit of writing I planned for this morning, and goup to the Lindsays' with you. If I can do anything for them, in anyway, I'll be glad."
The Lindsay apartment wore the air common to homes where death hasentered, yet not to one of the actual household. The shades werepartly drawn and a few shaded lamps were lighted. A silent maidadmitted the callers and they were shown into the living room where agroup of people sat.
The three Lindsays were there, also Doctor Davenport, who had beenprescribing for Mrs Lindsay.
"You're all right," he was telling her, "just keep quiet and----"
"But, Doctor," her shrill voice responded, "how can I keep quiet, whenI'm so excited? My nerves are on edge--I'm frightened--I can't sleepor eat or rest----"
"The medicine I prescribed will help all that; now, just obey myorders and do the best you can to keep cool and calm."
"Let me help you," and Manning Pollard took the seat next Millicent;"sometimes the mere presence of an unexcitable person helps frazzlednerves."
"You're surely that," and Mrs Lindsay smiled a welcome. "I never sawany one less excitable than you are. Do help to calm me."
She laid her hand in Pollard's and sank back in her chair, alreadyquieted by his silent sympathy.
"Wait a minute, Doctor," Belknap said, as Davenport was about toleave. "I'm asking a few questions, and I want you to tell me as tothose two shots that killed Mr Gleason. You don't mind being present,Mrs Lindsay?"
"Indeed, no. I want to be. I want to know every bit of evidence, everyclew to the murderer of my brother! I am not excited over theinvestigation, I only get nervous when I think you will not avenge thecrime!"
"We're trying our best," returned Belknap. "What is your theory,Doctor Davenport?"
"I haven't any," and the doctor looked slightly embarrassed.
"Well," Belknap thought to himself, "all these people act queer! Arethey all shielding the same person? Is it the precious son of thehouse?"
"I don't believe in laymen having theories," Davenport went on. "Thoseare for the police to form and then to prove." He spoke shortly, butin an even time, as one who was sure of what he wanted to say.
"All right," agreed Belknap, "and to form and prove our theories, wemust get all the evidence we can. Now, Doctor, as to those shots."
The doctor became all the professional man again. "There's no doubt asto the facts," he replied, straightforwardly; "the fatal shot was mostcertainly fired first, and the shot in the shoul
der some minuteslater--after the man had been dead at least several minutes."
"How do you, then, explain Mr Gleason's ability to telephone a messagethat he was shot?"
"I don't explain it--nor can I conceive of any explanation. It's thestrangest thing I ever heard of!"
"It is strange," Belknap mused, "but there must be some explanation.For he did telephone. Your nurse took the message?"
"She did. And she is a most reliable woman. Whatever she reported asto that message, you may depend on as absolute truth. Nurse Jordan hasbeen with me many years, and she is most punctilious in the repetitionof messages."
"Mightn't he have telephoned after the first shot," Pollard said, hisair more that of one thinking aloud, than of one propounding a theory,"and then with a spasmodic gesture or something, have fired the secondshot by accident?"
"The second shot was fired after the man was dead," repeated DoctorDavenport, positively.
"Then there was a murderer," Belknap said, "which fact we have decidedupon anyway. And an unusually clever murderer, too."
"But I can't see it," Millicent Lindsay said, speaking in a lowmoaning voice. "Why would anybody shoot my brother after he hadalready killed him? I can't see any theory that would explain that."
"Nor I," declared the doctor. "It's the queerest thing I ever knew."
"Leave that point for the moment," Belknap advised, "if we get otherfacts they may throw light on that. Do any of you think that MrGleason," he glanced furtively at Mrs Lindsay to see if he might goon, "was acquainted with--with young ladies----"
"Not in our set?" cried Louis; "he most assuredly was. Now you'regetting on the right tack! You don't mind this talk, Millicent?"
"No; go on," returned Mrs Lindsay. "I want to know the truth. And, ofcourse, my brother was no saint. Moreover, if he chose to entertainchorus girls or that sort of people he had a perfect right to do so.I'm not surprised or shocked at anything of that kind. But if theywere in any way responsible for his death, I want to know it. Do youknow anything definite, Louis?"
"No," was the reply, but the youth went white.
Belknap studied his face, feeling sure that to go white was notabsolutely unusual with the young man. He was apparently anaemic,unstrung, and very emotional. His lips twitched, and he curled anduncurled his fingers.
As a matter of fact, Belknap was looking toward Louis as a possiblesuspect. Though, as yet, he had no reason for such a suspicion.
"I do," said Phyllis Lindsay, speaking for the first time during thisdiscussion. "I know he was intimate with some moving pictureactresses. He had their photographs in his rooms."
"When were you there last?" asked Belknap suddenly.
"I don't know--about a week ago, I think. I called in one day to see anew picture Mr Gleason had just bought."
Her face was slightly flushed, but she was cool and composed ofmanner. Belknap despaired of getting any real information here.
Doctor Davenport looked at Phyllis.
"Did you leave anything there?" he asked abruptly.
"Leave anything?" she repeated.
"Yes," impatiently. "Any of your belongings--wearing apparel?"
"Why, no," the girl smiled. "I didn't."
"Sure?"
"Of course, I'm sure. Unless I dropped a handkerchief, maybe. I'mforever losing those."
"You didn't leave a fur collar?"
"Of course I didn't! My fur collars are too valuable not to keep trackof."
"Then," and Doctor Davenport drew from his bag a small fur neckpiece."Then, I guess it's my duty to show up this. It's a thing," he lookeda bit embarrassed, "I picked up in Gleason's room when I first wentthere last night. I thought it was yours, Phyllis, and I brought it toyou."
"Well, of all performances!" exclaimed Belknap, astonished.
"Oh, come now," and Davenport smiled, "I meant to give it up sooner,but I forgot it. I only thought, if it should be Phyllis', she'drather know about it----"
"All right, as long as I have it now," and Belknap reached for the furwith an air of authority. "This may be the clew that will lead usstraight to the murderer--or murderess."
"It may," agreed the doctor, "and it may set you off on the wrongtrack, hounding some poor little innocent girl!"
"Is it a valuable piece?" and Belknap held it out toward Phyllis.
"I don't want to touch it," she shrank back. "Please don't make me."
"Let me see it," said Millicent reaching out a hand. "I'll soon tellyou."
After a moment's scrutiny she said, "It's a fairly good fur, and it'sthe latest style; what they call a choker. It's new this season, butnot worth more than thirty or forty dollars."
"It might belong to 'most anybody, then," mused Belknap.
"Yes," said Millicent, "but you see by the label inside, it came froma shop patronized more by bargain hunters than by an exclusive classof customers."
"Pointing to the less aristocratic type," Belknap nodded. "Well, wemust trace the owner of the collar. Where was it, Doctor?"
"In a chair in the room," said Davenport, looking as sheepish as acensured schoolboy. "I was a fool I suppose, to take it, but I thoughtif it belonged to Miss Lindsay, it might lead to a lot of unpleasantnotoriety for her----"
"All right, all right," Belknap shut off his apologies. "Now to findan owner for the fur. Any suggestions?"
He looked around the group, with a general survey, but really scanningLouis' face, in hopes the boy might show some sign of recognition.
But it was from Pollard that the advice came, "Advertise."
"Just what I planned to do," Belknap said: "I'll take the fur andadvertise for its owner. An adroitly worded advertisement ought tobring results."
There was little more conversation of importance, the attorney merelytaking some notes of certain data he desired, and learning of thearrangements for the funeral which was to take place next day at theFuneral Rooms.
"I probably shan't see you again, Mrs Lindsay, until after I hear fromthe advertisement," Belknap told her.
"Oh, come to see me whenever you have any fresh evidence or any news,"she urged him. "After the funeral, may be too late. Follow up alltrails--spare no effort. I may be a peculiar person, Mr Belknap, but Ican't help it. I never thought I was of a revengeful nature, but Ithink it is a righteous indignation that I have now. And I will doanything, spend any amount to find the murderer of my brother."
"You are his heir?" Belknap asked, casually.
"I have not inquired into that as yet," was the reply, spoken rathercoldly. "I don't even know whether my brother left a will or not. MrLane is his lawyer."
"My question was not prompted by idle curiosity," Belknap assured her,"but it is of importance to know who will benefit financially by thedeath of this rich man."
"If he left no will," Mrs Lindsay informed him, "I am the only heir.If he left a will, I've no idea as to its contents."
"I must inquire of Lane, then; though doubtless he will see you on thematter very soon."
Belknap departed and first thing he did was to put an advertisement inthe Lost and Found columns of several evening papers.
And the next afternoon his zeal was rewarded.
He had instructed the owner of the collar to call at a small shop on aside street, which had no apparent connection with Mr Robert Gleasonor his affairs.
By arrangement with the proprietor, Belknap himself was behind thecounter and greeted the sweetly smiling young woman who came for thefur.
"Are you sure it's yours?" Belknap asked the fashionably dressedlittle person.
"No; are you?" she replied, saucily. "But I can describe mine."
"Go ahead, then."
"It's a soft, gray fur, squirrel it's called. And it has _a_label inside with the name of the store where it was bought."
"Yes? And the store is----?"
"Cheapman's Department Store." She smiled triumphantly. "Guess you'llhave to give up the goods!"
"It looks that way," Belknap smiled. "Now where did you lose it?
"
"Haven't the least idea. Somewhere between starting out from home andgetting back there."
"Day before yesterday?"
"Yep. I went to a whole lot of places----"
"Mention some. You see, the store you speak of sells a good many furcollars, so it all depends on where you left yours."
The girl's face fell. "Oh, come now," she said, "s'pose I don't wantto tell?"
"Then I shall think you're putting up a game on me, and trying to geta fur collar that doesn't belong to you."
"Oh, well, it doesn't. But it does belong to a friend of mine--and I'mafter it for her."
"And she doesn't want to admit where she lost it?"
"I don't know why she wouldn't. But you see, I don't know all theplaces she went to, and----"
"Look here, Miss--you'll have to give your name, you know."
By this time the girl looked decidedly frightened. "I don't want to,"she said, almost crying. "Let the old fur go--I don't want it! I wishI'd kept out of this!"
"Tell me who sent you here, and you can keep out of it."
The girl brightened decidedly, and looked at Belknap.
"Honest," she said; "if I tell you who sent me, can I go home?"
"Certainly you may. I've no right to detain you."
"All right, then, it was Mary Morton."
"Address?"
She gave a street number in the Longacre district, and hurried awayalmost before Belknap finished writing it down.
Thanking and remunerating the shopkeeper for the use of his premises,Belknap went directly to the address he had obtained.
"Like as not she'll be out," he thought, "but if she is, I'll goagain. I'll bet it's one of Gleason's lady friends, and though I've noidea she shot him--yet, she might have. Anyway, I'll get a line on hisgay acquaintances. It's bound to be the owner of the collar, for herfriend described it exactly, and gave the right maker's name."
Reaching the address given him, Belknap felt a sudden qualm ofsuspicion. It did not look at all like a boarding house, theatrical orany other kind. In fact it was a shop where electrical goods weresold.
"Upstairs, I s'pose," Gleason mused, and went in.
But nobody at that number could tell him anything of Miss Mary Morton.No one had ever heard of her, and Belknap was confronted with thesudden conviction that he had been made a fool of!
"Idiot! Dunderhead!" he called himself, angrily, as he left the place."I am an ass, I declare! That little snip jack took me in completely,with her honest gray eyes! Well, let me see; I've a start. That girldescribed that fur too accurately not to be the owner herself, andI'll track her down again yet. It can't be a hard job. I'll see herpicture in some theatrical office or somewhere."
But it was a hard blow, and Belknap felt pretty sore at Prescott'sjeers when he learned the story.
"Anyway, it's given us a way to turn," said Belknap. "We've got thefur."
"Yes," grinned Prescott, wickedly, "we've got the fur, and that's asfur as we have got!"