XV. SEARS OR WELLGOOD
Not till the inspector had given several orders was I again summonedinto his presence. He smiled as our eyes met, but did not allude, anymore than I did, to what had just passed. Nevertheless, we understoodeach other.
When I was again seated, he took up the conversation where we had leftit.
"The description I was just about to read to you," he went on; "will youlisten to it now?"
"Gladly," said I; "it is Wellgood's, I believe."
He did not answer save by a curious glance from under his brows, but,taking the paper again from his desk, went on reading:
"A man of fifty-five looking like one of sixty. Medium height,insignificant features, head bald save for a ring of scanty dark hair.No beard, a heavy nose, long mouth and sleepy half-shut eyes capable ofshooting strange glances. Nothing distinctive in face or figure savethe depth of his wrinkles and a scarcely observable stoop in his rightshoulder. Do you see Wellgood in that?" he suddenly asked.
"I have only the faintest recollection of his appearance," was mydoubtful reply. "But the impression I get from this description is notexactly the one I received of that waiter in the momentary glimpse I gotof him."
"So others have told me before;" he remarked, looking very disappointed."The description is of Sears given me by a man who knew him well, and ifwe could fit the description of the one to that of the other, we shouldhave it easy. But the few persons who have seen Wellgood differ greatlyin their remembrance of his features, and even of his coloring. It isastonishing how superficially most people see a man, even when they arethrown into daily contact with him. Mr. Jones says the man's eyes aregray, his hair a wig and dark, his nose pudgy, and his face without muchexpression. His land-lady, that his eyes are blue, his hair, whether wigor not, a dusty auburn, and his look quick and piercing,--a look whichalways made her afraid. His nose she don't remember. Both agree, orrather all agree, that he wore no beard--Sears did, but a beard canbe easily taken off--and all of them declare that they would know himinstantly if they saw him. And so the matter stands. Even you cangive me no definite description,--one, I mean, as satisfactory orunsatisfactory as this of Sears."
I shook my head. Like the others, I felt that I should know him if I sawhim, but I could go no further than that. There seemed to be so littlethat was distinctive about the man.
The inspector, hoping, perhaps, that all this would serve to rouse mymemory, shrugged his shoulders and put the best face he could on thematter.
"Well, well," said he, "we shall have to be patient. A day may make allthe difference possible in our outlook. If we can lay hands on either ofthese men--"
He seemed to realize he had said a word too much, for he instantlychanged the subject by asking if I had succeeded in getting a sample ofMiss Grey's writing. I was forced to say no; that everything had beenvery carefully put away. "But I do not know what moment I may come uponit," I added. "I do not forget its importance in this investigation."
"Very good. Those lines handed up to Mrs. Fairbrother from the walkoutside are the second most valuable clue we possess."
I did not ask him what the first was. I knew. It was the stiletto.
"Strange that no one has testified to that handwriting," I remarked.
He looked at me in surprise.
"Fifty persons have sent in samples of writing which they think likeit," he observed. "Often of persons who never heard of the Fairbrothers.We have been bothered greatly with the business. You know little of thedifficulties the police labor under."
"I know too much," I sighed.
He smiled and patted me on the hand.
"Go back to your patient," he said. "Forget every other duty but that ofyour calling until you get some definite word from me. I shall not keepyou in suspense one minute longer than is absolutely necessary."
He had risen. I rose too. But I was not satisfied. I could not leave theroom with my ideas (I might say with my convictions) in such a turmoil.
"Inspector," said I, "you will think me very obstinate, but all youhave told me about Sears, all I have heard about him, in fact,"--thisI emphasized,--"does not convince me of the entire folly of myown suspicions. Indeed, I am afraid that, if anything, they arestrengthened. This steward, who is a doubtful character, I acknowledge,may have had his reasons for wishing Mrs. Fairbrother's death, may evenhave had a hand in the matter; but what evidence have you to show thathe, himself, entered the alcove, struck the blow or stole the diamond?I have listened eagerly for some such evidence, but I have listened invain."
"I know," he murmured, "I know. But it will come; at least I think so."
This should have reassured me, no doubt, and sent me away quiet andhappy. But something--the tenacity of a deep conviction, possibly--keptme lingering before the inspector and finally gave me the courage tosay:
"I know I ought not to speak another word; that I am putting myself ata disadvantage in doing so; but I can not help it, Inspector; I can nothelp it when I see you laying such stress upon the few indirect cluesconnecting the suspicious Sears with this crime, and ignoring the directclues we have against one whom we need not name."
Had I gone too far? Had my presumption transgressed all bounds and wouldhe show a very natural anger? No, he smiled instead, an enigmaticalsmile, no doubt, which I found it difficult to understand, but yet asmile.
"You mean," he suggested, "that Sears' possible connection with thecrime can not eliminate Mr. Grey's very positive one; nor can the factthat Wellgood's hand came in contact with Mr. Grey's, at or near thetime of the exchange of the false stone with the real, make it any lessevident who was the guilty author of this exchange?"
The inspector's hand was on the door-knob, but he dropped it at this,and surveying me very quietly said:
"I thought that a few days spent at the bedside of Miss Grey in thesociety of so renowned and cultured a gentleman as her father woulddisabuse you of these damaging suspicions."
"I don't wonder that you thought so," I burst out. "You would thinkso all the more, if you knew how kind he can be and what solicitudehe shows for all about him. But I can not get over the facts. They allpoint, it seems to me, straight in one direction."
"All? You heard what was said in this room--I saw it in your eye--howthe man, who surprised the steward in his own room last night, heard himtalking of love and death in connection with Mrs. Fairbrother. 'Tokiss what I hate! It is almost as bad as to kill what I love'--he saidsomething like that."
"Yes, I heard that. But did he mean that he had been her actual slayer?Could you convict him on those words?"
"Well, we shall find out. Then, as to Wellgood's part in the littlebusiness, you choose to consider that it took place at the timethe stone fell from Mr. Grey's hand. What proof have you that thesubstitution you believe in was not made by him? He could easily havedone it while crossing the room to Mr. Grey's side."
"Inspector!" Then hotly, as the absurdity of the suggestion struckme with full force: "He do this! A waiter, or as you think, Mr.Fairbrother's steward, to be provided with so hard-to-come-by an articleas this counterpart of a great stone? Isn't that almost as incredible asupposition as any I have myself presumed to advance?"
"Possibly, but the affair is full of incredibilities, the greatest ofwhich, to my mind, is the persistence with which you, a kind-heartedenough little woman, persevere in ascribing the deepest guilt to one youprofess to admire and certainly would be glad to find innocent of anycomplicity with a great crime."
I felt that I must justify myself.
"Mr. Durand has had no such consideration shown him," said I.
"I know, my child, I know; but the cases differ. Wouldn't it be well foryou to see this and be satisfied with the turn which things havetaken, without continuing to insist upon involving Mr. Grey in yoursuspicions?"
A smile took off the edge of this rebuke, yet I felt it keenly; andonly the confidence I had in his fairness as a man and public officialenabled me to say:
"But I am talking quit
e confidentially. And you have been so good to me,so willing to listen to all I had to say, that I can not help but speakmy whole mind. It is my only safety valve. Remember how I have to sit inthe presence of this man with my thoughts all choked up. It is killingme. But I think I should go back content if you will listen to one moresuggestion I have to make. It is my last."
"Say it I am nothing if not indulgent."
He had spoken the word. Indulgent, that was it. He let me speak,probably had let me speak from the first, from pure kindness. He did notbelieve one little bit in my good sense or logic. But I was not to bedeterred. I would empty my mind of the ugly thing that lay there. Iwould leave there no miserable dregs of doubt to ferment and work theirevil way with me in the dead watches of the night, which I had yet toface. So I took him at his word.
"I only want to ask this. In case Sears is innocent of the crime, whowrote the warning and where did the assassin get the stiletto with theGrey arms chased into its handle? And the diamond? Still the diamond!You hint that he stole that, too. That with some idea of its provinguseful to him on this gala occasion, he had provided himself with animitation stone, setting and all,--he who has never shown, so far aswe have heard, any interest in Mrs. Fairbrother's diamond, only in Mrs.Fairbrother herself. If Wellgood is Sears and Sears the medium by whichthe false stone was exchanged for the real, then he made this exchangein Mr. Grey's interests and not his own. But I don't believe he hadanything to do with it. I think everything goes to show that theexchange was made by Mr. Grey himself."
"A second Daniel," muttered the inspector lightly. "Go on, littlelawyer!" But for all this attempt at banter on his part, I imagined thatI saw the beginning of a very natural anxiety to close the conversation.I therefore hastened with what I had yet to say, cutting my words shortand almost stammering in my eagerness.
"Remember the perfection of that imitation stone, a copy so exact thatit extends to the setting. That shows plan--forgive me if I repeatmyself--preparation, a knowledge of stones, a particular knowledge ofthis one. Mr. Fairbrother's steward may have had the knowledge, but hewould have been a fool to have used his knowledge to secure for himselfa valuable he could never have found a purchaser for in any market. Buta fancier--one who has his pleasure in the mere possession of aunique and invaluable gem--ah! that is different! He might risk acrime--history tells us of several."
Here I paused to take breath, which gave the inspector chance to say:
"In other words, this is what you think. The Englishman, desirous ofcovering up his tracks, conceived the idea of having this imitationon hand, in case it might be of use in the daring and disgracefulundertaking you ascribe to him. Recognizing his own inability to do thishimself, he delegated the task to one who in some way, he had been ledto think, cherished a secret grudge against its present possessor--aman who had had some opportunity for seeing the stone and studying thesetting. The copy thus procured, Mr. Grey went to the ball, and, relyingon his own seemingly unassailable position, attacked Mrs. Fairbrotherin the alcove and would have carried off the diamond, if he had foundit where he had seen it earlier blazing on her breast. But it wasnot there. The warning received by her--a warning you ascribe to hisdaughter, a fact which is yet to be proved--had led her to rid herselfof the jewel in the way Mr. Durand describes, and he found himselfburdened with a dastardly crime and with nothing to show for it. Later,however, to his intense surprise and possible satisfaction, he saw thatdiamond in my hands, and, recognizing an opportunity, as he thought, ofyet securing it, he asked to see it, held it for an instant, and then,making use of an almost incredible expedient for distracting attention,dropped, not the real stone but the false one, retaining the real one inhis hand. This, in plain English, as I take it, is your present idea ofthe situation."
Astonished at the clearness with which he read my mind, I answered:"Yes, Inspector, that is what was in my mind."
"Good! then it is just as well that it is out. Your mind is now free andyou can give it entirely to your duties." Then, as he laid his handon the door-knob, he added: "In studying so intently your own pointof view, you seem to have forgotten that the last thing which Mr. Greywould be likely to do, under those circumstances, would be to callattention to the falsity of the gem upon whose similarity to the realstone he was depending. Not even his confidence in his own position, asan honored and highly-esteemed guest, would lead him to do that."
"Not if he were a well-known connoisseur," I faltered, "with the prideof one who has handled the best gems? He would know that the deceptionwould be soon discovered and that it would not do for him to fail torecognize it for what it was, when the make-believe was in his hands."
"Forced, my dear child, forced; and as chimerical as all the rest. Itcan not stand putting into words. I will go further,--you are a goodgirl and can bear to hear the truth from me. I don't believe in yourtheory; I can't. I have not been able to from the first, nor have anyof my men; but if your ideas are true and Mr. Grey is involved in thismatter, you will find that there has been more of a hitch about thatdiamond than you, in your simplicity, believe. If Mr. Grey were inactual possession of this valuable, he would show less care than you sayhe does. So would he if it were in Wellgood's hands with his consent anda good prospect of its coming to him in the near future. But if it isin Wellgood's hands without his consent, or any near prospect of hisregaining it, then we can easily understand his present apprehensionsand the growing uneasiness he betrays."
"True," I murmured.
"If, then," the inspector pursued, giving me a parting glance notwithout its humor, probably not without something really seriousunderlying its humor, "we should find, in following up our present clue,that Mr. Grey has had dealings with this Wellgood or this Sears; or ifyou, with your advantages for learning the fact, should discover that heshows any extraordinary interest in either of them, the matter will takeon a different aspect. But we have not got that far yet. At present ourtask is to find one or the other of these men. If we are lucky, we shalldiscover that the waiter and the steward are identical, in spite oftheir seemingly different appearance. A rogue, such as this Sears hasshown himself to be, would be an adept at disguise."
"You are right," I acknowledged. "He has certainly the heart of acriminal. If he had no hand in Mrs. Fairbrother's murder, he came nearhaving one in that of your detective. You know what I mean. I could nothelp hearing, Inspector."
He smiled, looked me steadfastly in the face for a moment, and thenbowed me out.
The inspector told me afterward that, in spite of the cavalier mannerwith which he had treated my suggestions, he spent a very serioushalf-hour, head to head with the district attorney. The result was thefollowing order to Sweetwater, the detective.
"You are to go to the St. Regis; make yourself solid there, andgradually, as you can manage it, work yourself into a position forknowing all that goes on in Room ----. If the gentleman (mind you, thegentleman; we care nothing about the women) should go out, you are tofollow him if it takes you to--. We want to know his secret; but he mustnever know our interest in it and you are to be as silent in this matteras if possessed of neither ear nor tongue. I will add memory, for if youfind this secret to be one in which we have no lawful interest, you areto forget it absolutely and for ever. You will understand why when youconsult the St Regis register."
But they expected nothing from it; absolutely nothing.