XIV. TRAPPED
I caught my breath sharply. I did not say anything. I felt that I didnot understand the inspector sufficiently yet to speak. He seemed to bepleased with my reticence. At all events, his manner grew even kinder ashe said:
"This Sears is a witness we must have. He is being looked for now, highand low, and we hope to get some clue to his whereabouts before night.That is, if he is in this city. Meanwhile, we are all glad--I am sureyou are also--to spare so distinguished a gentleman as Mr. Grey theslightest annoyance."
"And Mr. Durand? What of him in this interim?"
"He will have to await developments. I see no other way, my dear."
It was kindly said, but my head drooped. This waiting was what waskilling him and killing me. The inspector saw and gently patted my hand.
"Come," said he, "you have head enough to see that it is never wiseto force matters." Then, possibly with an intention of rousing me,he remarked: "There is another small fact which may interest you. Itconcerns the waiter, Wellgood, recommended, as you will remember, bythis Sears. In my talk with Jones it leaked out as a matter of smallmoment, and so it was to him, that this Wellgood was the waiter who ranand picked up the diamond after it fell from Mr. Grey's hand."
"Ah!"
"This may mean nothing--it meant nothing to Jones--but I inform you ofit because there is a question I want to put to you in this connection.You smile."
"Did I?" I meekly answered. "I do not know why."
This was not true. I had been waiting to see why the inspector had sohonored me with all these disclosures, almost with his thoughts. Now Isaw. He desired something in return.
"You were on the scene at this very moment," he proceeded, after abrief contemplation of my face, "and you must have seen this man whenhe lifted the jewel and handed it back to Mr. Grey. Did you remark hisfeatures?"
"No, sir; I was too far off; besides, my eyes were on Mr. Grey." "Thatis a pity. I was in hopes you could satisfy me on a very importantpoint."
"What point is that, Inspector Dalzell?"
"Whether he answered the following description." And, taking up anotherpaper, he was about to read it aloud to me, when an interruptionoccurred. A man showed himself at the door, whom the inspector no soonerrecognized than he seemed to forget me in his eagerness to interrogatehim. Perhaps the appearance of the latter had something to do with it;he looked as if he had been running, or had been the victim of someextraordinary adventure. At all events, the inspector arose as heentered, and was about to question him when he remembered me, and,casting about for some means of ridding himself of my presence withoutinjury to my feelings, he suddenly pushed open the door of an adjoiningroom and requested me to step inside while he talked a moment with thisman.
Of course I went, but I cast him an appealing look as I did so. Itevidently had its effect, for his expression changed as his band fell onthe doorknob. Would he snap the lock tight, and so shut me out from whatconcerned me as much as it did any one in the whole world? Or wouldhe recognize my anxiety--the necessity I was under of knowing just theground I was standing on--and let me hear what this man had to report?
I watched the door. It closed slowly, too slowly to latch. Would hecatch it anew by the knob? No; he left it thus, and, while the crack washardly perceptible, I felt confident that the least shake of the floorwould widen it and give me the opportunity I sought. But I did not haveto wait for this. The two men in the office I had just left began tospeak, and to my unbounded relief were sufficiently intelligible, evennow, to warrant me in giving them my fullest attention.
After some expressions of astonishment on the part of the inspector asto the plight in which the other presented himself, the latter brokeout:
"I've just escaped death! I'll tell you about that later. What I want totell you now is that the man we want is in town. I saw him lastnight, or his shadow, which is the same thing. It was in the house inEighty-sixth Street,--the house they all think closed. He came in with akey and--"
"Wait! You have him?"
"No. It's a long story, sir--"
"Tell it!"
The tone was dry. The inspector was evidently disappointed.
"Don't blame me till you hear," said the other. "He is no common crook.This is how it was: You wanted the suspect's photograph and a specimenof his writing. I knew no better place to look for them than in his ownroom in Mr. Fairbrother's house. I accordingly got the necessary warrantand late last evening undertook the job. I went alone I was always anegotistical chap, more's the pity--and with no further precaution thana passing explanation to the officer I met at the corner, I hastened upthe block to the rear entrance on Eighty-seventh Street. There arethree doors to the Fairbrother house, as you probably know. Two onEighty-sixth Street (the large front one and a small one connectingdirectly with the turret stairs), and one on Eighty-seventh Street. Itwas to the latter I had a key. I do not think any one saw me go in. Itwas raining, and such people as went by were more concerned in keepingtheir umbrellas properly over their heads than in watching men skulkingabout in doorways.
"I got in, then, all right, and, being careful to close the door behindme, went up the first short flight of steps to what I knew must be themain hall. I had been given a plan of the interior, and I had studied itmore or less before starting out, but I knew that I should get lost ifI did not keep to the rear staircase, at the top of which I expected tofind the steward's room. There was a faint light in the house, in spiteof its closed shutters and tightly-drawn shades; and, having a certaindread of using my torch, knowing my weakness for pretty things and howhard it would be for me to pass so many fine rooms without looking in,I made my way up stairs, with no other guide than the hand-rail. When Ihad reached what I took to be the third floor I stopped. Finding it verydark, I first listened--a natural instinct with us--then I lit up andlooked about me.
"I was in a large hall, empty as a vault and almost as desolate.Blank doors met my eyes in all directions, with here and there an openpassageway. I felt myself in a maze. I had no idea which was the door Isought, and it is not pleasant to turn unaccustomed knobs in a shut-uphouse at midnight, with the rain pouring in torrents and the wind makingpandemonium in a half-dozen great chimneys.
"But it had to be done, and I went at it in regular order till I cameto a little narrow one opening on the turret-stair. This gave me mybearings. Sears' room adjoined the staircase. There was no difficulty inspotting the exact door now and, merely stopping to close the opening Ihad made to this little staircase, I crossed to this door and flung itopen. I had been right in my calculations. It was the steward's room,and I made at once for the desk."
"And you found--?"
"Mostly locked drawers. But a key on my bunch opened some of these andmy knife the rest. Here are the specimens of his handwriting whichI collected. I doubt if you will get much out of them. I saw nothingcompromising in the whole room, but then I hadn't time to go throughhis trunks, and one of them looked very interesting,--old as the hillsand--"
"You hadn't time? Why hadn't you time? What happened to cut it short?"
"Well, sir, I'll tell you." The tone in which this was said roused meif it did not the inspector. "I had just come from the desk which haddisappointed me, and was casting a look about the room, which wasas bare as my hand of everything like ornament--I might almost saycomfort--when I heard a noise which was not that of swishing rain oreven gusty wind--these had not been absent from my ears for a moment. Ididn't like that noise; it had a sneakish sound, and I shut my light offin a hurry. After that I crept hastily out of the room, for I don't likea set-to in a trap.
"It was darker than ever now in the hall, or so it seemed, and as Ibacked away I came upon a jog in the wall, behind which I crept. Forthe sound I had heard was no fancy. Some one besides myself was in thehouse, and that some one was coming up the little turret-stair, strikingmatches as he approached. Who could it be? A detective from the districtattorney's office? I hardly thought so. He would have been provided withsomething
better than matches to light his way. A burglar? No, not onthe third floor of a house as rich as this. Some fellow on the force,then, who had seen me come in and, by some trick of his own, had managedto follow me? I would see. Meantime I kept my place behind the jog andwatched, not knowing which way the intruder would go.
"Whoever he was, he was evidently astonished to see the turret doorajar, for he lit another match as he threw it open and, though I failedto get a glimpse of his figure, I succeeded in getting a very good oneof his shadow. It was one to arouse a detective's instinct at once. Idid not say to myself, this is the man I want, but I did say, this isnobody from headquarters, and I steadied myself for whatever might turnup.
"The first thing that happened was the sudden going out of the matchwhich had made this shadow visible. The intruder did not light another.I heard him move across the floor with the rapid step of one who knowshis way well, and the next minute a gas-jet flared up in the steward'sroom, and I knew that the man the whole force was looking for hadtrapped himself.
"You will agree that it was not my duty to take him then and therewithout seeing what he was after. He was thought to be in the easternstates, or south or west, and he was here; but why here? That is whatI knew you would want to know, and it was just what I wanted to knowmyself. So I kept my place, which was good enough, and just listened,for I could not see.
"What was his errand? What did he want in this empty house at midnight?Papers first, and then clothes. I heard him at his desk, I heard himin the closet, and afterward pottering in the old trunk I had been soanxious to look into myself. He must have brought the key with him, forit was no time before I heard him throwing out the contents in a wildsearch for something he wanted in a great hurry. He found it sooner thanyou would believe, and began throwing the things back, when somethinghappened. Expectedly or unexpectedly, his eye fell on some object whichroused all his passions, and he broke into loud exclamations ending ingroans. Finally he fell to kissing this object with a fervor suggestingrage, and a rage suggesting tenderness carried to the point of agony. Ihave never heard the like; my curiosity was so aroused that I was on thepoint of risking everything for a look, when he gave a sudden snarl andcried out, loud enough for me to hear: 'Kiss what I've hated? That is asbad as to kill what I've loved.' Those were the words. I am sure he saidkiss and I am sure he said kill."
"This is very interesting. Go on with your story. Why didn't you collarhim while he was in this mood? You would have won by the surprise.
"I had no pistol, sir, and he had. I heard him cock it. I thought hewas going to take his own life, and held my breath for the report. Butnothing like that was in his mind. Instead, he laid the pistol down anddeliberately tore in two the object of his anger. Then with a smotheredcurse he made for the door and turret staircase.
"I was for following, but not till I had seen what he had destroyed insuch an excess of feeling. I thought I knew, but I wanted to feel sure.So, before risking myself in the turret, I crept to the room he had leftand felt about on the floor till I came upon these."
"A torn photograph! Mrs. Fairbrother's!"
"Yes. Have you not heard how he loved her? A foolish passion, butevidently sincere and--"
"Never mind comments, Sweetwater. Stick to facts."
"I will, sir. They are interesting enough. After I had picked up thesescraps I stole back to the turret staircase. And here I made my firstbreak. I stumbled in the darkness, and the man below heard me, for thepistol clicked again. I did not like this, and had some thoughts ofbacking out of my job. But I didn't. I merely waited till I heard hisstep again; then I followed.
"But very warily this time. It was not an agreeable venture. It was likedescending into a well with possible death at the bottom. I could seenothing and presently could hear nothing but the almost imperceptiblesliding of my own fingers down the curve of the wall, which was all Ihad to guide me. Had he stopped midway, and would my first intimation ofhis presence be the touch of cold steel or the flinging around me oftwo murderous arms? I had met with no break in the smooth surface ofthe wall, so could not have reached the second story. When I should getthere the question would be whether to leave the staircase and seek himin the mazes of its great rooms, or to keep on down to the parlor floorand so to the street, whither he was possibly bound. I own that Iwas almost tempted to turn on my light and have done with it, but Iremembered of how little use I should be to you lying in this well of astairway with a bullet in me, and so I managed to compose myself and goon as I had begun. Next instant my fingers slipped round the edge of anopening, and I knew that the moment of decision had come. Realizing thatno one can move so softly that he will not give away his presence insome way, I paused for the sound which I knew must come, and when aclick rose from the depths of the hall before me I plunged into thathall and thus into the house proper.
"Here it was not so dark; yet I could make out none of the objects I nowand then ran against. I passed a mirror (I hardly know how I knew it tobe such), and in that mirror I seemed to see the ghost of a ghost flitby and vanish. It was too much. I muttered a suppressed oath and plungedforward, when I struck against a closing door. It flew open again and Irushed in, turning on my light in my extreme desperation, when, insteadof hearing the sharp report of a pistol, as I expected, I saw a seconddoor fall to before me, this time with a sound like the snap of a springlock. Finding that this was so, and that all advance was barred thatway, I wheeled hurriedly back toward the door by which I had entered theplace, to find that that had fallen to simultaneously with the other,a single spring acting for both. I was trapped--a prisoner in thestrangest sort of passageway or closet; and, as a speedy look aboutpresently assured me, a prisoner with very little hope of immediateescape, for the doors were not only immovable, without even locks topick or panels to break in, but the place was bare of windows, and theonly communication which it could be said to have with the outside worldat all was a shaft rising from the ceiling almost to the top of thehouse. Whether this served as a ventilator, or a means of lighting upthe hole when both doors were shut, it was much too inaccessible tooffer any apparent way of escape.
"Never was a man more thoroughly boxed in. As I realized how littlechance there was of any outside interference, how my captor, even if hewas seen leaving the house by the officer on duty, would be takenfor myself and so allowed to escape, I own that I felt my position ahopeless one. But anger is a powerful stimulant, and I was mortallyangry, not only with Sears, but with myself. So when I was done swearingI took another look around, and, finding that there was no gettingthrough the walls, turned my attention wholly to the shaft, which wouldcertainly lead me out of the place if I could only find means to mountit.
"And how do you think I managed to do this at last? A look at mybedraggled, lime-covered clothes may give you some idea. I cut a passagefor myself up those perpendicular walls as the boy did up the face ofthe natural bridge in Virginia. Do you remember that old story in theReader? It came to me like an inspiration as I stood looking up frombelow, and though I knew that I should have to work most of the way inperfect darkness, I decided that a man's life was worth some risk, andthat I had rather fall and break my neck while doing something than tospend hours in maddening inactivity, only to face death at last fromslow starvation.
"I had a knife, an exceedingly good knife, in my pocket--and for thefirst few steps I should have the light of my electric torch. Thedifficulty (that is, the first difficulty) was to reach the shaft fromthe floor where I stood. There was but one article of furniture in theroom, and that was something between a table and a desk. No chairs,and the desk was not high enough to enable me to reach the mouth of theshaft. If I could turn it on end there might be some hope. But this didnot look feasible. However, I threw off my coat and went at the thingwith a vengeance, and whether I was given superhuman power or whetherthe clumsy thing was not as heavy as it looked, I did finally succeed inturning it on its end close under the opening from which the shaft rose.The next thing was to get on its top. That
seemed about as impossibleas climbing the bare wall itself, but presently I bethought me of thedrawers, and, though they were locked, I did succeed by the aid of mykeys to get enough of them open to make for myself a very good pair ofstairs.
"I could now see my way to the mouth of the shaft, but after that!Taking out my knife, I felt the edge. It was a good one, so was thepoint, but was it good enough to work holes in plaster? It dependedsomewhat upon the plaster. Had the masons, in finishing that shaft,any thought of the poor wretch who one day would have to pit his lifeagainst the hardness of the final covering? My first dig at it wouldtell. I own I trembled violently at the prospect of what that first testwould mean to me, and wondered if the perspiration which I felt startingat every pore was the result of the effort I had been engaged in or justplain fear.
"Inspector, I do not intend to have you live with me through the fivemortal hours which followed. I was enabled to pierce that plaster withmy knife, and even to penetrate deep enough to afford a place for thetips of my fingers and afterward for the point of my toes, digging,prying, sweating, panting, listening, first for a sudden opening of thedoors beneath, then for some shout or wicked interference from aboveas I worked my way up inch by inch, foot by foot, to what might not besafety after it was attained.
"Five hours--six. Then I struck something which proved to be a window;and when I realized this and knew that with but one more effort I shouldbreathe freely again, I came as near falling as I had at any time beforeI began this terrible climb.
"Happily, I had some premonition of my danger, and threw myself into aposition which held me till the dizzy minute passed. Then I went calmlyon with my work, and in another half-hour had reached the window, which,fortunately for me, not only opened inward, but was off the latch. Itwas with a sense of inexpressible relief that I clambered through thiswindow and for a brief moment breathed in the pungent odor of cedar.But it could have been only for a moment. It was three o'clock in theafternoon before I found myself again in the outer air. The only way Ican account for the lapse of time is that the strain to which both bodyand nerve had been subjected was too much for even my hardy body andthat I fell to the floor of the cedar closet and from a faint went intoa sleep that lasted until two. I can easily account for the last hourbecause it took me that long to cut the thick paneling from the doorof the closet. However, I am here now, sir, and in very much the samecondition in which I left that house. I thought my first duty was totell you that I had seen Hiram Sears in that house last night and putyou on his track."
I drew a long breath,--I think the inspector did. I had been almostrigid from excitement, and I don't believe he was quite free from iteither. But his voice was calmer than I expected when he finally said:
"I'll remember this. It was a good night's work." Then the inspector putto him some questions, which seemed to fix the fact that Sears had leftthe house before Sweetwater did, after which he bade him send certainmen to him and then go and fix himself up.
I believe he had forgotten me. I had almost forgotten myself.