CHAPTER XX
DEDUCTIONS
Naturally, Mr. Trenton was eager to know what we had accomplished andbombarded me with questions the moment I stepped foot in my apartments,which was not until late, for I had stopped at the office to attend tosome pressing business first. I put him off, however, by saying thatMcKelvie was just getting his bearings and we'd have definite news whenI heard from him again. I expected that he would call me up next day,but I received no word from him, so that I had plenty of time tospeculate on the little I knew.
Personally, I was not sorry that Philip Darwin had failed, because I didnot relish the idea of Ruth's inheriting his money, but I could notunderstand why McKelvie had disparaged Cunningham's motive in giving usthis information. Not that I wanted to side with the man. I felt thesame unreasonable antagonism that McKelvie evidently experienced towardhim, but I wanted to be fair, and as far as I could see he was desirousof helping us as much as he could.
At any rate, motives for the crime, as far as Ruth was concerned, werevalueless, since we knew of the existence of the secret entrance. Whattroubled me most was this point. Why should any sane man (I presume thatthe criminal was sane, if criminality is not another form of insanity) Irepeat, why should any sane man shoot another one in the dark in thepresence of a third person with the chances ten to one against hishitting the one at whom he aimed, and ten to one in favor of his beingdiscovered? It was absurd on the face of it, yet it was just what hadhappened in the study that night, and twist it as I would I could makeneither rhyme nor reason out of it. McKelvie had said the criminal was aclever man and clever criminals don't usually leave anything to chance,for only chance could have directed his aim in a room so dark that hecould not possibly see his prospective victim!
Though I thought about it continually, this point was still a puzzlewhen McKelvie phoned me, early the second day after our visit toRiverside Drive, and asked me to meet him there at ten o'clock, but totell no one where I was going. As I was in the habit of leaving for theoffice about eight I said nothing of my ultimate destination to Mr.Trenton, but I ordered Jenkins to be at the office as near nine-thirtyas possible. I did not know whether McKelvie wanted him or not, and itwas simpler to dismiss him than to send for him.
When we entered Darwin's study at ten o'clock sharp McKelvie wasstanding at one of the windows whistling. He greeted us with a smile andthe remark, "Well, I'm all ready to tell you how the murder wascommitted."
"You have discovered something new?" I asked quickly.
"One or two things, but nothing bearing on my statement. I knew before Ientered this room day before yesterday how it was done. For another thatmight seem impossible, but for me, no. It was simplicity itself."
I couldn't help smiling at this piece of conceit and catching my look helaughed good-humoredly.
"All great detectives--and I am one, according to my friend,Cunningham--are egotistical," he said.
"Is that the reason that Sherlock Holmes is an egotist, sir?" askedJenkins suddenly.
"Undoubtedly; and why not, since he is the greatest of his kind.You see great detectives seldom fail, and so naturally theybecome--well--self-opinionated," returned McKelvie.
But I had not come there to discuss the failings of detectives, great orsmall, so I proceeded to dismount him from his hobby.
"You said you knew how the murder was done. So does anyone who reads thepapers. The coroner's inquest made that fact plain," I said to get himstarted. I had learned already that he disliked having his statementsbelittled.
"The coroner's inquest!" he scoffed. "Haven't you the wit to see thatthe inquest was in the hands of the police from the start? Jonesquestioned Orton in the morning and then calmly used Graves and his juryas a vehicle for tightening the net in which Mrs. Darwin had becomeentangled. What chance then had the truth for even so much as liftingits head? I suppose the police explained to your satisfaction how themurderer shot so accurately in the dark?" he ended, cynically.
I smiled inwardly as I realized that I had drawn the very fire I wanted.Now I would have the answer to my puzzle.
"Well, how did he do it?" I asked, unruffled.
"He didn't. He shot Darwin while the lamp was lighted, like anyright-minded person," he answered triumphantly. "By the way, Jenkins, Idon't believe I'll need you to-day."
"Very well, sir."
I waited until Jenkins had gone and then I replied to McKelvie'sstatement. "What you have just remarked is utterly impossible," Iretorted. "Ruth heard the shot before she saw the lamp spring intobeing, and she was speaking the truth."
He laughed. "Certainly, I am not disputing that point. I am merelymaking the assertion that the murderer shot his victim while the lamp,and for all I know, all the lights were lighted."
"But----"
"On second thoughts I don't believe I'll tell you. You might be asskeptical of my information as you were triumphant just now at havingroused my ire," he answered laconically, and I knew that I had notdeceived him long with my pretense of blockheadedness.
"I promise to believe anything you may say and swallow it all, hook,line and sinker," I pleaded.
"Well, perhaps under those circumstances--" he appeared to reflect, thensaid abruptly, "Would you call Dr. Haskins a man who knew his business?"
"Yes, decidedly so," I replied, surprised at the turn in theconversation.
"He remarked, if you remember, that Philip Darwin lived twenty minutesafter the bullet had penetrated his lung, and yet he also agreed withthe coroner's physician that Philip Darwin died at midnight or shortlythereafter. You yourself can testify that the shot was fired atmidnight. How then do you account for the discrepancies in these variousfacts, for facts they are?"
My mind reverted to the inquest, and I heard again the pompouscoroner's physician explaining Dr. Haskins' mistake, and I also recalledthe young doctor's face, which certainly belied his apparentacquiescence with the other's statement. And suddenly I saw whatMcKelvie was driving at. Yet, how could it possibly be?
"You mean that he had already been shot when Ruth entered this room?" Isaid slowly, hardly daring to believe that which I uttered. It was soincredible, so seemingly impossible!
"Yes, just that." The words came with quiet conviction.
"But I heard no other shot, and Philip Darwin was alive ateleven-thirty!"
"Of course you heard no shot. We're dealing with a clever man, I tellyou, and he wasn't advertising his actions," returned McKelvie, withthat note of impatience in his voice which crept into it whenever Ifailed immediately to grasp the point. "I'll show you how it was done,so that no one could possibly have heard that shot, even if there hadbeen someone listening at door or windows, which, of course, there wasnot."
He walked to the safe, and unlocked the door. Then he inserted his keyin the back wall and ushered me into the secret room.
"In here," he said, "no noise, however great, could be heard withoutthese walls. They are sound-proof, for I have tested them myself. Ifired a pistol by means of a mechanism, and then listened in the hallfor its explosion. I heard nothing. When I returned to this room thepistol had gone off, as was intended. So you can see that shooting hisvictim in here with the doors closed there was no chance that the shotwould be heard by anyone in the house at the time."
I stared at him in astonishment. "But, McKelvie, Jones proved beyond theshadow of a doubt that Philip Darwin had just risen in his chair at thetable when he was shot," I protested.
"Jones proved it!" he jeered. "Ye gods! Jones proved it! Of course heproved it. What else would you expect of Jones? Why do you suppose themurderer took the trouble to make those marks in the carpet except tofool the police?" he raged. "Certainly Jones proved it when it was putthere for that purpose!"
"Granted," I said pacifically. "He shot Darwin in this secret room. Thenwhat?"
McKelvie calmed down and resumed his story. "Then he proceeded tomanufacture evidence. He carried his victim through the safe," returningto the study as he spoke and relocking the entran
ce, "placed him in thatchair and arranged everything to look as though Philip Darwin had beenwriting, as indeed he had been when Orton came in at eleven-thirty.Then, satisfied that all was as perfect as he could make it, he turnedoff the light and waited."
"What for?"
"Mrs. Darwin, naturally."
"How on earth did he know she would come into the room? How could hepossibly divine that I would urge her to get me that letter when I onlyspoke on impulse myself?"
McKelvie sighed. "I'm not omniscient. If I could tell you how he knewit, or why, I could tell you who committed the crime. I am onlyreconstructing what actually happened, for he was in the room atmidnight, wasn't he, since he fired that second shot and lighted thelamp? And is it reasonable to suppose that it took him twenty minutes toshoot his victim and place him in that chair?"
I acquiesced, but not because I could see through the affair. It wasgrowing more intricate with every step we took. "But why, man, why?" Ipersisted.
"Because he needed a scapegoat. It may be, of course, and probably is,the fact that he was about to leave when he heard Mrs. Darwin try thedoor, and that the idea then came to him to incriminate her."
"Why--that's monstrous!" I cried.
McKelvie shrugged. "When you are dealing with a murderer, his littleideas are apt to be rather outside the pale of civilized folk," hereturned ironically. "By providing the police with a suspect he escapedtheir vigilance. Mrs. Darwin had the most motive for killing herhusband; therefore, she made the best possible victim. But he figuredwithout me. It's like a game of chess. He makes a move. I block him. Atpresent it's 'check,' with all the advantage on his side and everyprospect of the jury finding Mrs. Darwin guilty of the murder."
He had forgotten my presence and was talking to himself, his eyes growndreamy as he gazed into the distance. At my exclamation, he passed ahand across his eyes, saying in a different tone, "I beg your pardon. Iforgot in my interest in matching my wits against his, that to you Mrs.Darwin is more than a pawn in the game."
"McKelvie, surely you can't be serious," I implored him.
"I'm sorry to say that I am," he returned. "The prosecution has a verystrong case, and we have nothing we can offer that refutes a singlepoint that they can make." He moved away from the window, where he hadbeen sitting for some little time, and began to pace the room in long,even strides.
"If only I knew where that second bullet had lodged itself! Thephysician declares there was only one wound and only one bullet;therefore, it's not in Darwin's body. Also, I have searched every squareinch of this room--walls, ceiling, floor, carpet and furniture. There'snot a trace, nor even the faintest shadow of a trace of that bullet!"
He shook his head despairingly, but I had hardly listened to hisharangue. My mind had leaped to a sudden joyful conclusion.
"McKelvie," I cried, "we have evidence to refute their arguments! Let'sgo before the district attorney and tell him what we have learned andinsist on his releasing Ruth at once!"
"What evidence do you refer to?" he inquired a bit coldly. "Do you takeme for a mere calculating machine without any human feelings andconsideration for others? Don't you suppose that if I had any valuableevidence I should have used it to advantage long ere this?"
"Why," I stammered, all the wind taken out of my sails, "what aboutthe--the secret entrance?"
"As to that, it may or may not have been used upon that fatal night. Weconjecture because we are proving Mrs. Darwin innocent, but we do notpositively know anything about it," he put in imperturbably. "Mr. Darwinmay have lost or misplaced his key."
"How do you account then for the lighting of the lamp from the safe?" Ipersisted.
"Again, we do not know it was so lighted. Often, if a connection isloose, a jar or shock will light the lamp of itself."
"But the shot in the dark?"
"Ah, the police don't believe for a second that the room was ever indarkness at any time. They believe that you and Mrs. Darwin concoctedthat bit of evidence."
"When?" I spluttered.
"You gave the wrong impression about Mrs. Darwin the night of the crime.They would argue collusion before their arrival."
"But, McKelvie, what about the actual time when Philip Darwin waskilled, twenty minutes before Ruth ever set foot in the study?" Icontinued, exasperated by his skillful refutation of my arguments.
"On what do I base that conclusion?" he asked quietly.
"On Dr. Haskins' testimony."
"Exactly. And do you believe for a moment that the district attorneywill give credence to a fact which Coroner Graves practically ruled outof his court?" he demanded.
But I was still determined to have my way, for I wanted to free Ruthabove everything else. "There's the second shot to prove it," I saidstubbornly.
He looked at me a moment with a strange smile, then he tapped his headsignificantly. "Pardon me," he said quizzically, as I flushed angrily,"I had forgotten you are in love and that lovers are never logical.Don't be angry with me and I'll show you what would happen if Iapproached Grenville with your last statement as a proof of my previousdeductions. You have no experience in such matters, but, unfortunately,I know Grenville so very well."
McKelvie drew his mouth down in imitation of the district attorney,whose picture I had seen more than once in the paper, and then continuedhis exposition, mimicking Grenville's soft voice, as I suppose, wheneverthe part demanded it.
"When I had been ushered into his office he would adjust his glasses andlisten with an air of great politeness to all I had to say. Then, when Iwas through he would smile, still politely, very, if a triflesarcastically, and remark in his purring voice (the purr of the tigerbefore he shows his claws):
"'Of course, since only one shot was fired from Mr. Darwin's pistol, youhave brought with you the weapon that produced the second shot?'
"I would have to acknowledge that I not only had no such weapon, but noteven the prospect of finding it.
"'No? Then, of course,' with a still deeper purr, 'you have brought methe bullet itself?'
"'Well, no,' I would answer sheepishly, 'I haven't even got that.'
"'What! No bullet either? Dear, dear, Mr. McKelvie, you really are agenius in your line. And you would actually have me credit the evidenceof a chimera, a hypothetical revolver that fires a shot that leaves notrace----'"
Here McKelvie broke off abruptly and banged his fist against hisforehead. "Stupid, stupid. Oh, that someone would write me down anass!"
"What's the trouble, now?" I asked. "I thought you were doing verywell."
"As regards Grenville? Well, I'm glad you realize that we couldn't proveanything with mere deduction unsubstantiated by facts, for any cleverprosecutor could knock our evidence into a cocked hat. No, I wasreferring to something else," he returned, gazing somberly before himwith a look akin to horror in his eyes.
"What is it?" I demanded.
He shook off whatever was troubling him and replied in aself-contemptuous tone, "Nothing, except that I must be getting old. Ihave actually allowed myself to ape that pompous idiot of a coroner'sphysician, and have thus been guilty of the worst crime in the decalogueof a detective. I have been fitting the facts to my theory instead offitting my theory to the facts!"
"And that proves?"
"Just what I told you before, that we are face to face with a farcleverer, more cold-blooded man than even I had given him credit forbeing!"