Read The Mystery of the Hidden Room Page 22


  CHAPTER XXII

  ORTON'S ALIBI

  As we drove toward Forty-second Street, I recalled my instinctivedistrust of the secretary, his stealthy attitude, and very evidentdesire to see Ruth convicted. I had suspected him that very first night,and now I envisioned him sneaking through the secret entrance andreturning to the house in time to follow me into the study.

  "I know what you are thinking, but he couldn't possibly have done it,"said McKelvie quietly. "He's the only one I don't suspect. He hasn't thenerve in the first place, and in the second place he hadn't the time.How long do you suppose it takes to lock all those doors--they werelocked, remember--and return to the house and lock whatever entrance heused--not the front door, for you would have heard him--and enter thestudy a second after yourself?"

  "He may never have gone out," I cried. "He could easily have stayed inthe room all the time in a dark corner and have come forward when heturned on the lights. I swear I never heard him!"

  "What about Mrs. Darwin's testimony that he was in the hall?" he asked.

  "She may have been mistaken. He gave false evidence concerning her."

  "That's what we are going to see him about. But, remember this, Mrs.Darwin would have no reason for saying she saw him if she did not."

  To this last statement I had to agree, for Ruth I knew disliked Orton,and would hardly be likely to shield him. So I ceased discussing thepoint, knowing we would soon have the truth, for McKelvie could extractinformation from a stone.

  In due course we drew up before a second-rate apartment hotel that wassadly in need of a coat of paint. We entered a dingy hall and inquiredfor Orton.

  "Suite Four, third door to your left," droned the switchboard girl.

  We walked down the hall, which would have been decidedly improved by anapplication of a mop and some soap and water, and knocked at Orton'sapartment. As we waited we heard the sound of a door closing, and thenthe shuffle of feet and presently the door opened a crack and Orton'snear-sighted eyes peered at us from the aperture.

  "What do you want?" he asked impatiently.

  "A moment's conversation," replied McKelvie, but at that minute Ortonrecognized me and, swiftly retreating, began to close the door.

  McKelvie, however, was prepared for him and the closing door met anobstruction in the shape of the toe of McKelvie's boot.

  "There is no use trying to keep me out," he continued sternly, "unlessof course you would like to tell your story to the police."

  At mention of the police Orton retreated still farther, and we followedhim into the apartment, closing the door behind us. We found ourselvesin a stuffy, gloomy little parlor filled with a lot of ugly,old-fashioned furniture. Orton, who was clad in dressing-gown andslippers, ungraciously asked us to be seated, but before we could stateour errand a quavering voice from somewhere in the rear reached us.

  "What is it, Claude? Who is in there with you?" it said.

  "You have frightened my mother," said Orton, plucking at the cord of hiswrapper, as if undecided whether to go or stay.

  "Tell her it's all right and that you know who we are," commandedMcKelvie. "And without leaving this room," as Orton started to moveaway. "I guess she can hear you from here."

  Sullenly, Orton obeyed, and then seating himself on the sofa, demandedwhat we wanted.

  "At the inquest you gave several bits of information which had nofoundation in fact," began McKelvie, going straight to the point. "Youlied and you know it. For that matter so do I. Now I want to know why?"

  "Mr. Davies, of course I know," answered Orton with a sneer. "But whatright have you to question me?"

  "I am investigating the case for Mr. Davies on the quiet," answeredMcKelvie suavely.

  "And that gives you the right to intrude on my privacy, I suppose?"continued Orton sarcastically (he had abandoned his role of "humblestill," or rather he was Uriah Heep grown bold through triumph), "and toforce yourself into my rooms?"

  McKelvie shrugged. "Really if you would rather be put through the thirddegree at Police Headquarters it's a matter of indifference to me."

  Orton's pallid face became livid. "Are you trying to frighten me bypretending that you believe that I killed Philip Darwin?" he cried, buthis voice trembled in spite of himself.

  "No, I'm not pretending any such thing. I know you didn't kill him.You're too much of a coward," returned McKelvie contemptuously, whereatOrton gave a gasping sigh of relief. "But I do say you know more of thismurder than you gave out, and a hint to that effect in the ear of Joneswill be quite sufficient to bring the police to this place. No doubt youhave a telephone that I can use. I'll give you five minutes to decide."

  But Orton didn't need five minutes, no, nor even ten seconds. McKelviehad hardly finished speaking when Orton flung himself forward withclasped hands, his prominent eyes fairly popping with terror.

  "I'll tell you everything, anything, though I declare I know nothing.Only don't send the police here," he pleaded in a frightened voice.

  I was amazed at his abject fear but McKelvie motioned him back, and saidcoldly: "Very well, but don't lie to me, for I know why you fear thepolice." He leaned closer and whispered a word that I did not catch, butwhich had the effect of making Orton wring his hands helplessly, andwhine that he never intended to lie, and would tell us everything wewanted to know.

  McKelvie silenced him with a gesture, as he said: "I want an account, atrue one, of everything that you did and said and saw on the night ofOctober the seventh between ten-thirty, when you summoned Mrs. Darwin tothe study and midnight, when the shot rang out."

  "I wanted to tell what Mr. Darwin had said and they wouldn't let me atthe inquest," put in Orton, aggrieved.

  "You're not dealing with the police now, and I want every word that hasany bearing on the case, whatever its purport."

  "Very well. At ten-thirty I told Mrs. Darwin that her husband wanted herand then I listened at the door. They were quarreling about the loveletter I had put together for him."

  "When did you show him this letter?" interrupted McKelvie.

  "In the morning after Lee left the study. Mr. Darwin told me to patch ittogether because he said it would come in handy some day. It did--thatnight," and he leered at me in a very unpleasant way.

  "Go on," said McKelvie peremptorily.

  "I couldn't hear what they said----"

  "Then how did you know that they were quarreling about the letter?" Iasked.

  "I was going to say," Orton ignored me completely, "that I couldn't hearthe words exchanged until I opened the door a crack. Then I heard verywell, indeed. Mr. Darwin was threatening Mr. Davies, and Mrs. Darwinretorted that she would send for him and warn him, but he only laughedin a queer way and then I saw her coming, so I retreated. After that hecalled me in and told me to watch her. I crept upstairs and heard herorders to the maid, whom I followed to the garage. Then I came back andhung around the hall. Mr. Darwin had told me he was expecting a visitor,so when I came back I applied my ear to the door. I could hear voices,his and a strange one, but not what they said, though they spoke loudlyas if in anger."

  "Why didn't you open the door a crack?" I inquired sarcastically.

  "Because I was too clever. Mr. Darwin had locked the door when I wentout and I knew it was still locked. Besides at ten-thirty only the lampwas lighted and the region of the door was in comparative darkness, butat this particular time I could tell by applying my eye to the key-holethat the other lights had been turned on as well. So even if I couldhave opened the door I should still have been afraid of being seen."

  "Never mind that. Go on with what's important," broke in McKelvie,impatiently.

  "At eleven-twenty-five Mr. Davies arrived, and at eleven-thirty Mr.Darwin called me."

  "How?"

  "There's a bell connection between the study and my workroom. When Iwent in Mr. Darwin had resumed his seat at the table and looked prettymuch as he did when we saw him later, except he was alive."

  "A good deal of difference, I should judge,"
I thought to myself,"between a corpse and a well man. However, that's neither here northere."

  "He had just finished writing the name, Cora Manning, on his new will,for the ink was not yet dry when I reached the table. I told him allthat had taken place. It was then he laughed and said: 'So we've abroker in the house, eh? He should know how to play fast and loose, eh?I'll make him useful, this broker lover of our stainless Ruth.'"

  Orton mouthed the words with devilish delight and I had all I could doto keep my hands off of him. But McKelvie paid no heed to our feelings.

  "Go on, man," he said with growing impatience. "Don't repeat what I knowalready."

  "You said that you wanted to hear everything that was spoken," grumbledOrton.

  "Yes, so I did. Only hustle along and get it out. Was that all he said?"demanded McKelvie.

  "No. He said something else. I remarked that a broker ought to know howto play fast and loose, and he replied: 'Yes, and other things, too, eh?Mr. Davies doesn't know it yet, but he has done me the very greatestservice by coming here to-night. See that the windows are properlylocked and then go to bed.' As I locked the windows I could hear himlaughing to himself, and he was still laughing when I closed the doorbehind me."

  "What did you think he meant to convey by those words of his?" askedMcKelvie.

  "I thought he might be referring to the fact that now he had goodgrounds for divorce. I believe he was tired of Mrs. Darwin," repliedOrton.

  "You are sure that Mr. Darwin was alone at eleven-thirty?" continuedMcKelvie, after a slight pause.

  "Yes, absolutely alone," responded Orton. "There was no place whereanyone could hide. I examined the window hangings as I locked up."

  "What about the safe?"

  "It was partly open and I looked in as I passed. It was empty."

  "Humph. Now I'd have sworn--" murmured McKelvie.

  "What?" asked Orton inquisitively.

  "Nothing. What's the rest of your story?" retorted McKelvie.

  "I didn't go to bed. I wanted to see what would happen, for I was surefrom the way he spoke that Mr. Darwin meant to call Mr. Davies into thestudy later on, so I continued to work in the little room until I grewweary and thirsty, and going out in the hall found that it was about tenminutes to twelve. Still nothing had happened, for I could hear themurmur of voices in the drawing-room."

  He didn't have to tell us how he knew. We could guess. Ruth was right insaying that he was always spying upon her.

  "I knew," he continued, "that Mr. Darwin kept a good brand of whisky,private stock of course, in a cabinet in the dining-room, and Idetermined to mix myself a drink. But just then I heard the key turnedin the study door and thinking Mr. Darwin was coming out, I went back tomy room and closed the door. I waited some time, maybe five minutes ormore, and then looked out. No one was around and both drawing-room andstudy doors were closed. I decided I had missed the show, since therewas no sound from either room, and I determined to have my drink beforeI went upstairs. I went in to the dining-room and had my hand on thecabinet key when the shot rang out. I hurried to the study and saw--Mr.Davies in the doorway, Mrs. Darwin holding the pistol, and Mr. Darwindead."

  "You didn't see Mrs. Darwin go into the study?" questioned McKelvie.

  "No, but I judged she had gone in when I heard the study door unlock.You see, I did not know what might happen, especially when Mr. Daviessaid I had no proof that I wasn't in the study also, so I decided tohave an alibi for the police. That's why I said I was on the stairsbecause then they would not know where I had really been. I didn't knowthat Mrs. Darwin had seen me."

  "A good thing for you that she did see you," returned McKelvie grimly,"or you might be occupying that cell in her place."

  Orton blanched like the coward that he was. "But--but, I'm innocent," hesaid, indignantly.

  "Well, you wouldn't be the first innocent person to grace a cell, Iassure you," retorted McKelvie dryly. "You have told us everything?"

  "Yes, everything."

  "Very well, then you can answer several questions. You are positive youheard the key turned in the study door when you stood in the hall at tenminutes to twelve?" continued McKelvie. "Remember I want facts, and notimpressions."

  "I am as positive as that I am sitting here. But it was more toward fiveminutes to twelve because I paused to ascertain if Mrs. Darwin was stillin the drawing-room and I listened for a minute or two before I startedfor the dining-room," replied Orton with conviction.

  "A minute is a good long while, longer than you think, Orton," returnedMcKelvie. "But that point is, after all, immaterial. We will say thatsomewhere between ten and five minutes to twelve the study door wasunlocked from the inside," and he looked at me significantly.

  If he was right in his premise, then the person who unlocked that doorcould have been none other than the criminal, for at ten minutes beforemidnight Philip Darwin was past unlocking doors! Yet it seemed afoolhardy thing to do, for any one then could have entered anddiscovered him. But, no, after all, it was the sensible thing to do fromhis point of view, since otherwise the prospective suspect would havebeen unable to enter the room. Then I looked at McKelvie with dawninghorror in my eyes. The unlocking of that door could have meant only onething, that the criminal knew Ruth was across the hall, anddeliberately, cold-bloodedly, planned to saddle her with the murder ofher husband!

  "Why, McKelvie," I began, horrified, but he tread on my toe as if byaccident, and I recalled hastily that we were not alone.

  "Even if I had not heard Mr. Darwin unlock the door," continued Ortoningratiatingly, "he must have unlocked it at some time, for I heard himturn the key in the lock when I left him at eleven-thirty and the doorwas open when Mrs. Darwin entered the room. But, I know I'm not mistakenin saying that I heard it unlocked."

  "How do you know that it was Mr. Darwin who unlocked it?" I askedinjudiciously.

  McKelvie frowned, but Orton answered without apparent suspicion, "He wasalone in a closed room. Who else could have opened it, Mr. Davies?"

  "No one, of course," I lied cheerfully, and subsided into thebackground, not wishing to give Orton any further inkling of what weknew.

  "When you came out into the hall the second time, you said that youheard no sound from either room. Did you open the study door even acrack that time by any chance?" resumed McKelvie.

  "No. Again I feared to be seen. You see that all the lights in the roomhad been turned on," replied Orton.