CHAPTER XV FLEMING STONE COMES
"Terence."
"Yes, sir."
"We're off for New England."
"New England it is."
"Start this afternoon, stay a few days, maybe a week among the classicshades of Corinth."
"Corinth it is."
This somewhat laconic conversation was all that was necessary for FlemingStone's assistant and general factotum to make preparations for the trip,achieve tickets, and arrive, with his chief, at the train gate at theproper time.
Terence McGuire, sometimes called Fibsy, because of a certain tendency tomendacity, had begun as Stone's office boy, and, by virtue of his generalaptitude for detective work and his utter devotion to Stone, had become aworthwhile and much appreciated assistant. Not only did the lad lookafter all details of their trips as well as taking care of the offices,but many times his ingenious mind so stimulated or aided Stone's own,that more often than not they were practically colleagues.
They had a compartment to themselves at the end of the car, and they wereno sooner started than Stone began to discuss the case with the boy.
"I don't know all the details, of course," he began, "but it's a settingafter my own heart."
"Then I can guess it," put in the wise Fibsy. "Man found dead in sealedroom."
"You're a wizard! What made you think of that?"
"'Cause that's the problem you like best, F. Stone. Wise me up somemore."
"It's further interesting, because the victim is a great and good man, infact, the President-elect of the University of Corinth."
"My! Somebody didn't want him for president? That the idea?"
"Apparently not. Nothing in the letter about that."
"Who wrote the letter?"
"The relative who inherits the whole estate."
"He do the job?"
"No reason as yet to think so. But the criminal mustn't be guessed at.The point is, the locked room."
"How was the killing done?"
"Stabbed. No weapon found and no way to get in or out of the locked room.Fine problem."
"Yes--if we don't find a secret stairway--or, a lying servant. Such casesgenerally fizzle out that way."
"Fibs, you're a Boy Cassandra."
"What's that?"
Stone explained, for it was his habit to supplement McGuire's very scanteducation by bits of information now and then, when time served.
"But, there's a queer clause in the arrangement," Stone went on, "if wefind the evidence leading in a certain direction, the chase is to cease."
"That won't do."
"Of course not, and I'll soon make that clear. But I can't think it willlead in the given direction as that implicates a young girl, and rarelyindeed, have I found a criminal answering to that description."
"'Tisn't usual--but, you know, F. Stone, since the war, girls are soindependent and so cocky that there's no telling what they'll do. Me forthe girl--as a suspect."
"Fibsy, you're a fool."
"No, sir. I don't admit it. See here, sir, if they're so 'fraid s'picionwill turn to that girl, there's reason for it. Yet, as you can guess, ifshe didn't do it, they want her skirts entirely cleared."
"Pretty good deduction so far. But we can't judge rationally until weknow the facts."
The facts were told them, when, some hours later, they sat, alone withMaurice Trask in the room where John Waring breathed his last.
"I'm a plain man," Trask said, for he didn't care to pose unduly beforean astute detective. "I've come into this estate of my cousin's--mysecond cousin, he was, and I started out with a firm determination tofind the villain who killed him. But, there is some cause for suspicionof the young lady I expect to marry. And here's the situation. If you cansolve the mystery of Doctor Waring's death, and free that girl from anytaint of blame, go ahead. But if your investigation leads to her--stopit. I want to marry her just the same, whether she killed anybody or not.But if she didn't do it, I want to know it."
"Can't you learn the truth from the young lady herself--if she is yourfiancee?" asked Stone.
"Oh, she says she didn't do it, of course. But there's such anoverwhelming mass of evidence--or, apparent evidence against her, thatit's the deepest sort of a mystery."
"Main facts first. Where was the body found?"
"In that desk chair, seated at his desk, as he often was evenings.Reading in a Latin book, so you see, he wasn't looking for trouble."
"Found dead in the morning? Been dead all night?"
"Yes, to both those questions. And locked in his room. Had to break in."
"And no weapon about?"
"Not a sign of any--"
"Then that cuts out all suicide idea."
"It does and it doesn't. You may as well say the locked up room cuts outall idea of a murder."
"But it must be one or the other. And isn't it more plausible to look forsome way that the murderer could have gone away and left the room locked,than to think up a way that the suicide could have disposed of thisweapon?"
"Yes, that's so, but I want you to investigate both possibilities. Yousee, if you could prove a suicide, that would free Miss Austin at once.And--if things go against her--I want you to--oh, hang it, it's hard toput into words--"
"I'll do that," said Fibsy, "if things go against Miss Austin, you wantMr. Stone to frame up suicide, and declare it the truth."
"Exactly that," and Trask looked relieved at the thought all his cardswere on the table. "I don't want Miss Austin suspected, but I do want toknow if she's innocent."
"Any other suspects?" asked Stone.
"Not definite ones. There's the Japanese who absconded that same night,and of course, there's the secretary, Gordon Lockwood. I'd like tosuspect him, all right, and he has a round silver penholder that justfits the wound that killed Waring. But it doesn't look like he did it, henever would have left the penholder in evidence, and he would havearranged matters to look more like a suicide. Then, too, how could helock the door behind him?"
"That question must be answered first of all," said Stone. "I'll examinethe room, of course, but after the local police and detectives have donethat, I doubt if I find anything enlightening. So far as I can see, thiswhole affair is unique, and I think we will find some surprising evidenceand soon. Tell me more of this Miss Austin. Who is she?"
"Nobody knows. In fact, they call her Miss Mystery, because so little isknown of her. She appeared here in Corinth from nowhere. She knew no one,and as she began to make acquaintances somebody brought her over here.She met Doctor Waring, and inside of twenty-four hours had so bewitchedhim that it would seem he had her visiting him in his study late atnight. She said at first, she wasn't here, but as she left the impress ofher dress trimmings on that chair-back, and as she has a ruby pin and alot of money that were in the Doctor's possession, it looks, one mightsay, a bit queer."
"Weren't the valuables planted on her?" put in Fibsy.
"That's what she says--or rather, that's one of the things she said. Thegirl contradicts herself continually. She says one thing one day andanother the next."
"Is she pretty?" This from Fibsy.
"Pretty as the devil! And that's not so bad as a description. She hasgreat big dark eyes, with straight black brows that almost meet. She hasa jaunty little face, that can be roguish or scornful or merry orpathetic as the little rascal chooses. She has completely bowled me over,and I'd be glad to have her on any terms and whatever her past history.But, there it is. If she has a clean slate in this murder business, Iwant to know it."
"And if she hasn't?"
"Then I don't want anybody else to know it. If you find, Mr. Stone, realevidence that Anita Austin killed John Waring, or if she confesses to thedeed, then you whip around and prove a suicide, and I'll double yourcharge. You needn't do anything wrong, you know. Just sum up that allindications point to a suicide, and let it go at that. Nobody will arrestMiss Austin if you say that."
"You mu
st be crazy, Mr. Trask," returned Stone, coldly. "I don't conductmy business on any such principles as those. I can't perjure myself tosave your lady love from a just condemnation."
"You haven't seen her yet." Trask nodded his sagacious head. "Wait tillyou do."
"Give me all the points against her," the detective suggested.
"I will. I'd rather you knew them from me. Not that I'll colorthem--they're facts that speak for themselves, but other people mightexaggerate them. Well, to begin with, this girl, a day or so after shearrived here was seen kissing the picture of Doctor Waring which she hadcut from a newspaper. I tell you this, 'cause you'll hear it anyway, andthe gossips think it shows a previous acquaintance between the two. But Ihold that as girls have matinee idols and Movie heroes, this girl mighteasily have adored the scholarly man, though she had never seen him."
"It is possible," Stone agreed, "but not very probable. She denies theywere acquainted?"
"Yes. Vows she never saw him until one night she went to his lecture,soon after her arrival here."
"What is she in Corinth for?"
"To sketch--she's an artist."
"Go on."
"Well, as I said, she must have come here that Sunday night, for one ofthe boarders at the house she lives in saw her cross the snowy field.Also, the footprints just fitted her shoes. Also, the tracks led right upon the side porch here to that long French window. And led right backagain to the Adams house."
"Whew!" Fibsy exploded, "aren't you rubbing it in?"
"Well, that's what they tell me--" Trask asserted, doggedly, "and I wantyou to know it all, Mr. Stone, before the other people tell you a garbledversion."
"Go on."
"Then, they say, the girl left marks of her dress trimming on that chair,and Lockwood, the secretary, rubbed them off next morning, as soon as thebody was discovered. We have the word of two witnesses for this episode."
"Who are the witnesses?"
"Ito, the Japanese butler, and Miss Peyton, who lives in this house."
"Go on."
"Well, then, ever since the tragedy, Miss Austin has acted queer. Queerin all sorts of ways. She is sad and desolate one minute, and saucy andindependent the next. I can't make her out at all. And she is more thanhalf in love with this Lockwood. I have to cut him out, you see. And Ifigure, if you prove the case against Miss Austin, and if I agree tomarry her and hush up the whole matter, and make it seem a suicide--"
"You figure that she'll throw over the secretary for you," cried Fibsy,his eyes aghast at the man's plan.
"Exactly that. You see, Mr. Stone, I don't try to deceive you. While Ihave a natural sorrow at my cousin's death, yet remember that I neverknew him in life, and that, while I want to avenge his death in any casebut one, I do not want to if it implicates Anita Austin."
"I understand," said Stone, seemingly not so shocked at the conversationas his assistant was.
"There's another queer thing," said Trask. "They tell me that when thebody was found there was the impress of a ring on the forehead."
"A seal ring?"
"Oh, no. Not a finger ring, but a circle, about two inches across, a redmark, as if it had been made as a sign or symbol of some sort."
"It remained on the flesh?"
"Until the embalming process took place. That removed it. I didn't seeit, but I'm told it was a clearly defined circle, quite evidentlyimpressed with some intent."
"Sounds like a sign of a secret society," Fibsy suggested, but Stone paidno heed.
"Let's reconstruct the case," he said; "Waring sat at his desk hissecretary outside in that hall?"
"Yes; the Japanese, the other one, the one that disappeared, brought inwater, and then Doctor Waring closed the door and locked it."
"Immediately?"
"I don't know that, but anyway, no one that we know of saw him againalive. Nogi is under no suspicion, for after he came out of the room, theDoctor rose and locked the door. Lockwood can't be suspected, as he heardthe door locked, and couldn't get in. He _is_ more or less suspectedbecause of his penholder, but much as I should like to think him thecriminal, I know he isn't."
"You're very honest, Mr. Trask."
"Yes, because I want the truth. Can you get it?"
"I think so."
"You still eliminate suicide?"
"I can't see how I can think it, with no weapon. You say that death wasinstantaneous--?"
"Yes; the doctors agree that it was. Positively he had no chance to hideor dispose of the instrument of death."
"And why should he? Suicides never make their death seem a murder, thoughoften a murderer tries to simulate a suicide."
"Yet that wasn't done in this case, or the murderer would have left theweapon."
"That may be the very point he neglected. Now, how did the murderer getout? Get busy, Fibs."
For nearly half an hour, the three men searched the room. Had there beenany secret exit, or any concealed passage, it must have been found.Fleming Stone's knowledge of architecture would not let him overlook anything of the sort, and Fibsy's alert eyes and quick wits would have foundanything out of the ordinary.
"No way out," Stone concluded, finally; "and no way of locking a door ora window after departure from the room. Looks as if the murder theory wasas untenable as the other. No chance of a natural death?"
"With a round hole in his jugular vein? No, sir. The doctors here won'tstand for that. Try again."
"I shall. I don't know when I've had such a baffling, intriguing case, asthis appears to be at first sight. It may resolve itself into a simpleproblem, but I can't think so now. Even if it were the work of your MissAustin--how did she get in and out?"
"Oh, she got in, all right. Waring let her in, at the French window.Probably that's when he locked his door. But--say she killed him--how didshe get out and lock the room behind her?"
"She couldn't. The window locks are bolts, and could not be shot fromoutside. For the moment I see no explanation. It is blank, utter mystery.When can I see Miss Austin?"
"Too late tonight, tomorrow morning will have to do. But she won't runaway. The police won't let her."
"Yet they can't hold her."
"They are doing so. They claim she was the last one to see the victimalive--"
"Does she admit that?"
"Not she! She admits nothing. You'll get nothing out of that littleSphinx!"
"All right, then, Mr. Trask, if you've finished your tale, suppose youleave me here to ruminate over this thing, and I'll go up to my room whenI wish."
Trask went off to bed, and Stone and his young assistant sat and lookedat each other.
"Up against it, F. Stone?"
"I certainly am, Fibs. And yet, the thing is so absolutely impossiblethat there must be a solution within easy reach. It can't be suicide,with the weapon gone, and it can't be murder with the room locked up.Now, as it must be either suicide or murder, then it follows, that eitherthe weapon isn't gone, or the room isn't locked up."
"Wasn't, you mean."
"Yes, wasn't. But I don't yet think that any one disturbed the conditionspurposely. For why would the secretary take away the weapon to make itseem a suicide--"
"He would if he did it."
"He didn't do it. Trask sees that. The man Trask is a sharp one. He seesall there is to see, and since there's practically nothing to see thatsolves the mystery, he sent for me. It would be a good one on me,Terence, if I have to give the thing up as unsolvable."
"That won't happen, F. Stone, but I'm free to confess, I can't see anyway to look."
The next morning, Maurice Trask went over to the Adams house, and broughtMiss Mystery back with him.
She came willingly enough, and the interview with the detective tookplace in the room of the tragedy itself.
Stone noticed that the girl showed no horror or distaste of the scene,and even sat in the chair he placed for her, which was the sameplush-covered one that had received the tell-tale imprints.
Fleming Stone regarded Miss Austi
n curiously. Not only was her beauty allthat Trask had described it, but there was an added quality of fineness,a trace of high mentality, that naturally enough Maurice Trask quiteoverlooked.
At first glance, Stone's thought was--"That child commit murder? Never!"But a few moments later, he was not quite so sure of his negation.
Fibsy just sat and looked at her. He had no occasion to speak, unlessaddressed, so, in silence he merely let his eyes feast on the piquantface with its ever changing expressions.
After casual questions, Stone said directly, "Did you know Doctor Waringbefore you came to Corinth, Miss Austin?"
"No," she said, a little hesitantly; "I had heard of him, but I had neverbefore seen him."
"How had you heard of him?"
"There was much in the papers about his election."
"And that interested you?"
"Not specially," she said, with a sudden accession of hauteur.
And thereupon, she became a most unsatisfactory witness. She listened toStone's questions with an absent-minded air, answered in monosyllables,or by a movement of her head. She even gave a side smile to Fibsy, which,though it amazed him, also filled him with a strange exultant joy, andmade him her abject slave at once.
Stone went on, drawling out a string of unimportant questions in amonotonous voice, and at length, he said, in the same unimportant way,
"And when you saw Doctor Waring that night, was there a red ring on hisforehead?"
"No," said Miss Austin, and then, suddenly awakening to what she haddone, she cried impetuously, "I mean, I don't know. I wasn't here."
Stone smiled gravely. "You were here," he said. "Now let us talk aboutwhat happened during your visit."
An interruption was caused by a tap at the closed door.
Impatiently, Trask rose and went to the door. It was Ito, bringing atelegram for Miss Austin. It had arrived at the Adams house, and had beensent over.
Miss Mystery read it, with great difficulty controlled her agitation, asshe quickly went to the blazing log fire and dropped the paper in.
"Skip over to the Telegraph office and get a copy," said Stone quietly,and Fibsy obeyed.
Then to Miss Austin's continued distress, Stone read the message aloud.It was from San Francisco, and it said:
"Better own up and tell the whole truth. I have annexed Carl." It wassigned merely "A" and apparently it was of dire import to its recipient.Miss Mystery sat silent, and wide-eyed in desperation, as she lookedhopelessly from one to another.
"Don't you think," said Stone, not unkindly, "that you'd better followA's advice and make a clean breast of the whole matter?"