CHAPTER III
THE WAITER'S STORY
Doctor Remson's police call had been imperative, and Inspector Masoncame in with two men.
"What's this? What's wrong here?" the big burly inspector said, as hefaced the few of us who had remained.
"Come in here, inspector," said the doctor, from the dining-room door.
And from that moment the whole aspect of the house seemed to change.No longer a gay little bijou residence, it became a court of justice.
One of the men was stationed at the street door and one at the areadoor below. Headquarters was notified of details. The coroner wassummoned, and we were all for the moment under detention.
"Where is Miss Van Allen? Where is the lady of the house?" askedMason. "Where are the servants? Who is in charge here?"
Was ever a string of questions so impossible of answers!
Doctor Remson told the main facts, but he was reticent. I, too,hesitated to say much, for the case was strange indeed.
Mrs. Reeves looked gravely concerned, but said nothing.
Ariadne Gale began to babble. That girl didn't know how to be quiet.
"I guess Miss Van Allen is upstairs," she volunteered. "She was inthe dining-room, but she isn't here now, so she must be upstairs.Shall I go and see?"
"No!" thundered the inspector. "Stay where you are. Search the house,Breen. I'll cover the street door."
The man he called Breen went upstairs on the jump, and Masoncontinued. "Tell the story, one of you. Who is this man? Who killedhim?"
As he talked, the inspector was examining Somers' body, making rapidnotes in a little book, keeping his eye on the door, and darting quickglances at each of us, as he tried to grasp the situation.
I looked at Bert Garrison, who was perhaps the most favored of MissVan Allen's friends, but he shook his head, so I threw myself into thebreach.
"Inspector," I said, "that man's name is Somers. Further than that Iknow nothing. He is a stranger to all of us, and he came to this houseto-night for the first time in his life."
"How'd he happen to come? Friend of Miss Van Allen?"
"He met her to-night for the first time. He came here with--" Ipaused. It was so hard to know what to do. Steele had gone home, oughtI to implicate him?
"Go on--came here with whom? The truth, now."
"I usually speak the truth" I returned, shortly. "He came with Mr.Norman Steele."
"Where is Mr. Steele?"
"He has gone. There were a great many people here, and, naturally,some of them went away when this tragedy was discovered."
"Humph! Then, of course, the guilty party escaped. But we are gettingnowhere. Does nobody know anything of this man, but his name?"
Nobody did; but Ariadne piped up, "He was a delightful man. He told mehe was a great patron of art, and often bought pictures."
Paying little heed to her, the inspector was endeavoring to learn fromthe dead man's property something more about him.
"No letters or papers," he said, disappointedly, as he turned out thepockets. "Not unusual--in evening togs--but not even a card oranything personal--looks queer--"
"Look in his watch," said Ariadne, bridling with importance.
Giving her a keen glance, the inspector followed her suggestion. Inthe back of the case was a picture of a coquettish face, undoubtedlythat of an actress. It was not carefully fastened in, but roughly cutout and pressed in with ragged edges.
"Temporary," grunted the inspector, "and recently stuck in. Somechicken he took out to supper. He's a club man, you say?"
"Yes, Mr. Steele said so, and also vouched for his worth andcharacter." I resented the inspector's attitude. Though I knew nothingof Somers, and didn't altogether like him, yet, I saw no reason tothink ill of the dead, until circumstances warranted it.
Further search brought a thick roll of money, some loose silver, akey-ring with seven or eight keys, eyeglasses in a silver case,handkerchiefs, a gold pencil, a knife, and such trifles as any manmight have in his pockets, but no directly identifying piece ofproperty.
R. S. was embroidered in tiny white letters on the handkerchiefs, anda monogram R. S. was on his seal ring.
His jewelry, which was costly, the inspector did not touch. There weremagnificent pearl studs, a watch fob, set with a black opal and pearlcufflinks. Examination of his hat showed the pierced letters R. S.,but nothing gave clue to his Christian name.
"Somers," said the inspector, musingly. "What club does he belong to?"
"I don't know," I replied. "Mr. Steele belongs to several, but Mr.Somers does not belong to any that I do. At least, I've never seen himat any."
"Call in the servants. Let's find out something about this household."
As no one else moved to do it, I stepped to the door of the butler'spantry, and summoned the head waiter of the caterer.
"Where are the house servants?" I asked him.
"There aren't any, sir," he replied, looking shudderingly at thegrisly form on the floor.
"No servants? In a house of this type! What do you mean?"
"That's true," said Mrs. Reeves, breaking her silence, at last. "MissVan Allen has a very capable woman, who is housekeeper and ladies'maid in one. But when guests are here, the suppers are served from thecaterer's."
"Then call the housekeeper. And where is Miss Van Allen herself?"
"She's not in the house," said the policeman Breen, returning from hissearch.
"Not in the house!" cried Mrs. Reeves. "Where is she?"
"I've been all over--every room--every floor. She isn't in the house.There's nobody upstairs at all."
"No housekeeper or maid?" demanded Mason. "Then they've got away!Here, waiter, tell me all you know of this thing."
The Italian Luigi came forward, shaking with terror, and wringing hisfingers nervously.
"I d--don't know anything about it," he began, but Mason interrupted,"You do! You know all about it! Did you kill this man?"
"No! Dio mio! No! a thousand no's!"
"Then, unless you wish to be suspected of it, tell all you know."
A commotion at the door heralded the coroner's arrival, also adetective and a couple of plain clothes men. Clearly, here was amysterious case.
The coroner at once took matters in his own hands. Inspector Masontold him all that had been learned so far, and though Coroner Fennseemed to think matters had been pretty well bungled, he made nocomment and proceeded with the inquiries.
"Sure there's nobody upstairs?" he asked Breen.
"Positive. I looked in every nook and cranny. I've raked the wholehouse, but the basement and kitchen part."
"Go down there, then, and then go back and search upstairs again.Somebody may be hiding. Who here knows Miss Van Allen the mostintimately?"
"Perhaps I do," said Mrs. Reeves. "Or Miss Gale. We are both her warmfriends."
"I'm also her friend," volunteered Bert Garrison. "And I canguarantee that if Miss Van Allen has fled from this house it was outof sheer fright. She never saw this man until to-night. He was astranger to us all."
"Where's the housekeeper?" went on Fenn.
"I think she must be somewhere about," said Mrs. Reeves. "Perhaps inthe kitchen. Julie is an all round capable woman. When there are noguests she prepares Miss Van Allen's meals herself. When company ispresent the caterer always is employed."
"And there are no other servants?"
"Not permanent ones," replied Mrs. Reeves. "I believe the laundressand chore boy come by the day, also cleaning women and such. But Iknow that Miss Van Allen has no resident servant besides the maidJulie."
"This woman must be found," snapped the coroner. "But we must firstof all identify the body. Mason, call up the principal clubs on thetelephone, and locate R. Somers. Also find Mr. Norman Steele. Now,Luigi, let's have your story."
The trembling waiter stammered incoherently, and said little ofmoment.
"Look here," said Fenn, bluntly, "is that your knife sticking in him?I mean, is it one belonging to Fraschi
ni's service? Don't touch it,but look at it, you can tell."
Luigi leaned over the dead man. "Yes, it is one of our boning knives,"he said. "We always bring our own hardware."
"Well, then, if you want to clear yourself and your men of doubt, tellall you know."
"I know this," and Luigi braced himself to the ordeal. "I was waitingin the pantry for Miss Van Allen to send me word to serve supper, andI peeped in the dining-room now and then to see if it was time. Iheard, presently, Miss Van Allen's voice, also a man's voice. I didn'twant to intrude, so waited for a summons. After a moment or two Iheard a little scream, and heard somebody or something fall. I had nothought of anything wrong, but thought the guests wereunusually--er--riotous."
"Are Miss Van Allen's guests inclined to be riotous?"
"No, sir, oh, no," asseverated the man, while Mrs. Reeves and Ariadnelooked indignant. "And for that reason, I felt a little curious, so Ipushed the door ajar and peeped in."
"What did you see?"
"I saw," Luigi paused so long that I feared he was going to collapse.But the coroner eyed him sternly, and he went on. "I saw Miss VanAllen standing, looking down at this--this gentleman on the floor, andmaking as if to pull out the knife. I could scarcely believe my eyes,and I watched her. She didn't pull the knife, but she straightenedup, looked around, glanced down at her gown, which--which was stainedwith blood--and then--she ran out into the hall."
"Where did she go?"
"I don't know. I couldn't see, as the door was but on a crack. Then Ithought I ought to go into the dining-room, and I did. I looked at thegentleman, and I didn't know what to do. So I went into the hall, tothe parlor door, and called for help, for a doctor or somebody. Andthen they all came out here. That's all I know."
Luigi's nerve gave way, and he sank into a chair with a sob. Fennlooked at him, and considerately left him alone for the time.
"Can this be true?" he said, turning to us. "Can you suspect Miss VanAllen of this crime?"
"No!" cried Bert Garrison and the women, at once. And, "No!" said I."I am positive Miss Van Allen did not know Mr. Somers and could nothave killed an utter stranger--on no provocation whatever."
"You do not know what provocation she may have had," suggested Fenn.
"Now, look here, Mr. Coroner," said Mrs. Reeves very decidedly, "Iwon't have Miss Van Allen spoken of in any such way. I assume you meanthat this man, though a stranger, might have said or done something toannoy or offend Miss Van Allen. Well, if he had done so, Victoria VanAllen never would have killed him! She is the gentlest, most gay andlight-hearted girl, and though she never tolerates any rudeness orfamiliarity, the idea of her killing a man is too absurd. You might aswell suspect a dove or a butterfly of crime!"
"That's right, Mr. Coroner," said Garrison. "That waiter's story isan hallucination of some sort--if it isn't a deliberate falsification.Miss Van Allen is a dainty, happy creature, and to connect her withanything like this _is_ absurd!"
"That's to be found out, Mr. Garrison. Why did Miss Van Allen runaway?"
"I don't admit that she did run away--in the sense of flight. If shewere frightened at this thing--if she saw it--she may have run out ofthe door in hysterics or in a panic of terror. But she theperpetrator! Never!"
"Never!" echoed Mrs. Reeves. "The poor child! If she did come outhere--and saw this awful sight--why, I think it would unhinge hermind!"
"Who is Miss Van Allen?" asked Fenn. "What is her occupation?"
"She hasn't an occupation," said Mrs. Reeves. "She is a young lady ofindependent fortune. As to her people or immediate relatives, I knownothing at all. I've known her a year or so, and as she never referredto such matters I never inquired. But she's a thorough littlegentlewoman, and I'll defend her against any slander to my utmostpowers."
"And so will I," said Miss Gale. "I'm sure of her fineness ofcharacter, and lovely nature--"
"But these opinions, ladies, don't help our inquiries," interruptedFenn. "What can you men tell us? What I want first, is to identifythis body, or, rather to learn more of R. Somers, and to find Miss VanAllen. I can't hold an inquest until these points are cleared up.Mason, have you found out anything?"
"No," said the inspector, returning from his long telephone quest. "Icalled up four clubs. Norman Steele belongs to three of them, butthis man doesn't seem to belong to any. That is, there are Somersesand even R. Somerses, but they all have middle names, and, too, theirdescription doesn't fit this Somers."
"Then Mr. Steele misrepresented him. Did you get Steele, Mason?"
"No, he wasn't at any of the clubs. I found his residence, a bachelorapartment house, but he isn't there, either."
"Find Steele; find Miss Van Allen; find the maid, what's hername--Julia?"
"Julie, she was always called," said Mrs. Reeves. "If Miss Van Allenwent away, I've no doubt Julie went with her. She is a most devotedcaretaker of her mistress."
"An oldish woman?"
"No. Perhaps between thirty-five and forty."
"What's she look like?"
"Describe her, Ariadne, you're an artist."
"Julie," said Miss Gale, "is a good sort. She's medium-sized, she hasbrown hair and rather hazel eyes. She wears glasses, and she stoops alittle in her walk. She has perfect training and correct manners, andshe is a model servant, but she gives the impression of watching overMiss Van Allen, whatever else she may be engaged in at the same time."
"Wears black?"
"No; usually gray gowns, or sometimes white. Inconspicuous aprons andno cap. She's not quite a menial, but yet, not entirely ahousekeeper."
"English?"
"English speaking, if that's what you mean. But I think she's anAmerican. Don't you, Mrs Reeves?"
"American? Yes, of course."