CHAPTER IV
SOMERS' REAL NAME
Detective Lowney, who had come with the coroner, had said little buthad listened to all. Occasionally he would dart from the room, andreturn a few moments later, scribbling in his notebook. He was analert little man, with beady black eyes and a stubby black mustache.
"I want a few words with that caterer's man," he said, suddenly, "andthen they'd better clear away this supper business and go home."
We all turned to look at the table. It stood in the end of thedining-room that was back of the living-room. The sideboard was at theopposite end, back of the hall, and it was directly in front of thesideboard that Somers' body lay.
Lowney turned on more light, and a thrill went through us at theincongruity of that gay table and the tragedy so near it. As always atVicky Van's parties, the appointments were dainty and elaborate.Flowers decorated the table; lace, silver, and glass were of finestquality; and in the centre was the contrivance known as a "Jack HornerPie."
"That was to be the surprise," said Mrs. Reeves. "I knew about it.The pie is full of lovely trinkets and little jokes on the guests."
"I thought those things were for children's parties," observed Fenn,looking with interest at the gorgeous confection.
"They're really for birthdays," said Mrs. Reeves, "and to-day isVicky's birthday. That was part of her surprise. She didn't want itknown, lest the guests should bring gifts. She's like a child, Vickyis, just as happy over a birthday party as a little girl would be."
"What does Miss Van Allen look like?" asked the detective.
"She's pretty," replied Mrs. Reeves, "awfully pretty, but not a ravingbeauty. Black hair, and bright, fresh coloring--"
"How was she dressed? Giddy clothes?"
"In an evening gown," returned Mrs. Reeves, who resented thedetective's off-hand manner. "A beautiful French gown, of tulle andgold trimmings."
"Low-necked, and all that? Jewels?"
"Yes," I said, as Mrs. Reeves disdained to answer. "Full eveningcostume, and a necklace and earrings of amber set in gold."
"Well, what I'm getting at is," said Lowney, "a woman dressed likethat couldn't go very far in the streets without being noticed. We'llsurely be able to trace Miss Van Allen. Where would she be likely togo?"
"I don't know," said Mrs. Reeves. "She wouldn't go to my home, I live'way down in Washington Square."
"Nor to mine," chirped Ariadne, "it's over on the west side."
"I don't believe she left the house," declared the coroner.
"Tell us again, Luigi," asked Lowney, "just where did the lady seem togo, when you saw her leave this room?"
"I can't say, sir. I was looking through a small opening, as I pushedthe door ajar, and I was so amazed at what I saw, that I was sort ofparalyzed and didn't dare open the door further."
"Go back to the pantry," commanded Fenn, "and look in, just as youdid."
The waiter retreated to the post he had held, and setting the door afew inches ajar, proved that he could see body by the sideboard, butcould not command a view of the hall.
"Now, I'll represent Miss Van Allen," and Lowney stood over the bodyof Somers. "Is this the place?"
"A little farther to the right, sir," and Luigi's earnestness and goodfaith were unmistakable. "Yes, sir, just there."
"Now, I walk out into the hall. Is this the way she went?"
"Yes, sir, the same."
Lowney went from the dining-room to the hall, and it was clear thathis further progress could not be seen by the peeping waiter.
"You see, Fenn," the detective went on, "from here, in the back ofthis long hall, Miss Van Allen could have left the house by two ways.She could have gone out at the front door, passing the parlor, or, shecould have gone down these basement stairs, which are just under thestairs to the second story. Then she could have gone out by the frontarea door, which would give her access to the street. She could havecaught up a cloak as she went."
"Or," said Fenn, musingly, "she could have run upstairs. The staircaseis so far back in the hall, that the guests in the parlor would nothave seen her. This is a very deep house, you see."
It was true. The stairs began so far back in the long hall, that Vickycould easily have slipped upstairs after leaving the dining-room,without being seen by any of us in the living-room, unless we were inits doorway, looking out. Was anybody? So many guests had left, thatthis point could not be revealed.
"I didn't see her," declared Mrs. Reeves, "and I don't believe she wasin the dining-room at all. I don't care what that waiter says!"
"Oh, yes, Madame," reiterated Luigi. "It was Miss Van Allen. I knowher well. Often she comes to Fraschini's, and always I take herorders. She came even this afternoon, to make sure the great cake--theJack Horner, was all right. And she approved it, ah, she clapped herhands at sight of it. We all do our best for Miss Van Allen, she is alovely lady."
"Miss Van Allen is one of your regular customers?"
"One of our best. Very often we serve her, and always she orders ourfinest wares."
"You provide everything?"
"Everything. Candles, flowers, decorations--all"
"And she pays her bills?"
"Most promptly."
"By cheque?"
"Yes, sir."
"And there are no servants here but the maid Julie?"
"I have often seen others. But I fancy they do not live in the house.Madame Julie superintends and directs us always. Miss Van Allen leavesmuch to her. She is most capable."
"When did you see this woman, this Julie, last?"
"A short time before--before that happened." Luigi looked toward thebody. "She was in and out of the pantries all the evening. Sheadmitted the guests, she acted as ladies' maid, and she arranged thefavors in the pie. It was, I should say, ten minutes or so since shewas last in the pantry, when I peeped in at the door."
"Where was Julie then?"
"I don't know. I did not see her. Perhaps upstairs, or maybe in thefront of the hall, waiting to bring me word to serve supper."
"Tell me something distinctive about this maid's appearance. Was shegood-looking?"
"Yes, a good-looking woman. But nothing especial about her. She hadmany gold fillings in her teeth--"
"That's something," and Lowney noted it with satisfaction. "Go on."
But Luigi seemed to know nothing else that differentiated Julie fromher sisters in service, and Lowney changed his questions.
"How could Miss Van Allen get that knife of yours?" he asked.
"I don't know, sir. It was, I suppose, in the pantry, with our otherknives."
"What is its use?"
"It is a boning knife, but doubtless one of our men used it in cuttingcelery for salad, or some such purpose."
"Ask them."
Inquiry showed that a man, named Palma, had used the knife for makinga salad, and had left it in the butler's pantry an hour or so beforethe crime was committed. Any one could have taken the knife withoutits being missed, as the salad had been completed and put aside.
"In that case, Miss Van Allen must have secured the knife some littletime before it was used, as Luigi was in the pantry just previously,"observed Fenn. "That shows premeditation. It wasn't done with a weaponpicked up at the moment."
"Then it couldn't have been done by Miss Van Allen!" exclaimed Mrs.Reeves triumphantly, "for Vicky had no reason to premeditate killing aman she had never seen before."
"Vicky didn't do it," wailed Ariadne. "I know she didn't."
"She must be found," said Lowney. "But she will be found. If she'sinnocent, she will return herself. If guilty, we must find her. And wewill. A householder cannot drop out of existence unnoticed by anyone. Does she own this house?"
"I think so," said Mrs. Reeves. "I'm not positive, but it's myimpression that she does. Vicky Van never boasts or talks of her moneyor of herself. But I know she gives a good deal in charity, and isalways ready to subscribe to philanthropic causes. I tell you she isnot the criminal, and I don't believ
e she ever left this house in themiddle of the night in evening dress! That child is scared to death,and is hiding--in the attic or somewhere."
"Suppose, Mrs. Reeves," said the coroner, "you go with Mr. Lowney, andlook over the house again. Search the bedrooms and store-rooms."
"I will," and Mrs. Reeves seemed to welcome an opportunity to help.She was a good-hearted woman, and a staunch friend of Vicky Van. I wasglad she was on hand to stand up for the girl, for I confess thingslooked, to me, pretty dubious.
"Come along, too, Mr. Calhoun," said Mrs. Reeves. "There's no tellingwhat we may find. Perhaps there's further--tragedy."
I knew what was in her mind. That if Vicky had done the thing, shemight have, in an agony of remorse, taken her own life.
Thrilled with this new fear, I followed Lowney and Mrs. Reeves. Wewent downstairs first. We examined all the basement rooms and thesmall, city back yard. There was no sign of Vicky Van or of Julie, andnext we came back to the first floor, hunted that, and then onupstairs. The music room was soon searched, and I fell back as theothers went into Vicky's bedroom.
"Come on, Mr. Calhoun," said Lowney, "we must make a thorough job ofit this time."
The bedroom was, it seemed to me, like a fairy dream. Furniture ofwhite enameled wicker, with pink satin cushions. Everywhere the mostexquisite appointments of silver, crystal and embroidered fabrics, anda bed fit for a princess. It seemed profanation for the littledetective to poke and pry around in wardrobes and cupboards, though Iknew it must be done. He was not only looking for Vicky, but notinganything that might bear on her disappearance.
But there was no clue. Everything was in order, and all just as awell-bred, refined woman would have her belongings.
The bedroom was over the dining-room, and back of this, over thepantry extension, was Vicky Van's dressing-room.
This was a bijou boudoir, and dressing-table, chiffonier, robe-chests,and jewel-caskets were all in keeping with the personality of theirowner. The walls were panelled in pale rose color, and a few finepictures were in absolute harmony. A long mirror was in a Florentinegilt frame, and a _chaise longue_, by a reading table, bespoke hoursof ease.
Ruthlessly, Lowney pried into everything, ran his arm among the gownshanging in the wardrobe, and looked into the carved chests.
Again no clue. The perfect order everywhere, showed, perhaps,preparation for guests, but nothing indicated flight or hiding. Thedressing-table boxes held some bits of jewelry but nothing of reallygreat value. An escritoire was full of letters and papers, and this,Lowney locked, and put the key in his pocket.
"If it's all right," he said, "there's no harm done. And if the ladydoesn't show up, we must examine the stuff."
On we went to the third floor of the house. The rooms here wereunused, save one that was evidently Julie's. The furnishings, thoughsimple, were attractive, and showed a thoughtful mistress and anappreciative maid. Everything was in order. Several uniforms of blackand of gray were in the cupboard, and several white aprons and onewhite dress. There were books, and a work-basket and such things asbetokened the life of a sedate, busy woman.
We left no room, no cupboard unopened. No hall or loft unsearched. Welooked in, under and behind every piece of furniture, and came, atlast, to the unescapable conclusion that wherever Vicky Van might be,she was not in her own house.
Downstairs we went, and found Coroner Fenn and Inspector Mason in thehall. They had let Doctor Remson go home, also Garrison and Miss Gale.The waiters, too, had been sent off.
"You people can go, if you like," Fenn said, to Mrs. Reeves andmyself. "I'll take your addresses, and you can expect to be called onas witnesses. If we ever get anything to witness! I never saw such acase! No criminal to arrest, and nobody knows the victim! He must befrom out of town. We'll nail Mr. Steele to-morrow, and begin to getsomewhere. Also we'll look up Miss Van Allen's credits and businessacquaintances. A woman can't have lived two years in a house likethis, and not have somebody know her antecedents and relatives. Isuppose Mr. Steele brought his friend here, and then, when this thinghappened he was scared and lit out."
"Maybe Steele did the killing," suggested Lowney.
"No," disagreed Fenn. "I believe that Dago waiter's yarn. Icross-questioned him a lot before I let him go, and I'm sure he'stelling what he saw. I'll see Fraschini's head man to-morrow--or, Isuppose it's to-morrow now--hello, who's that?"
Another policeman came in at the street door.
"What's up?" he said, looking about in amazement. "You here, Mr.Fenn? Lowney? What's doing?"
It was Patrolman Ferrall, the officer on the beat.
"Where you been?" asked the coroner. "Don't you know what hashappened?"
"No; ever since midnight I been handling a crowd at a fire a coupleblocks away. This is Miss Van Allen's house."
"Sure it is, and a friend of hers named Somers has been bumped off."
"What? Killed?"
"That's it. What do you know of Miss Van Allen?"
"Nothing, except that she lives here. Quiet young lady. Nothin' to besaid about her. Who's the man?"
"Don't know, except named Somers. R. Somers."
"Never heard of him. Where's Miss Van Allen?"
"Skipped."
"What! That little thoroughbred can't be mixed up in a shootin'!"
"He isn't shot. Stabbed. With a kitchen knife."
"Let's see him."
The coroner and Ferrall went toward the dining room, and, on anirresistible impulse of curiosity, I followed.
"Him!" exclaimed Ferrall, as he caught sight of the dead man'sfeatures. "That ain't no Somers. That's Randolph Schuyler."
"What!"
"Sure it is. Schuyler, the millionaire. Lives on Fifth Avenue, not fardown from here. Who killed him?"
"But look here. Are you sure this is Randolph Schuyler?"
"Sure? Of course I'm sure. His house is on my beat. I see him often,goin' in or comin' out."
"Well, then we _have_ got a big case on our hands! Mason!"
The inspector could scarcely believe Ferrall's statement, but realizedthat the policeman must know.
"Whew!" he said, trying to think of a dozen things at once. "ThenSteele knew him, and introduced him as Somers on purpose. No wonderthe clubs didn't know of R. Somers! R. S. on his handkerchiefs and allthat. He used a false name 'cause he didn't want it known thatRandolph Schuyler came to see Miss Van Allen! Oh, here's a mess!Where's that girl? Why did she kill him?"
"She didn't!" Mrs. Reeves began to cry. "She didn't know it _was_ Mr.Schuyler. She doesn't _know_ Mr. Schuyler. I'm sure she doesn't,because we were making lists for bazar patrons and she said she wouldask only people she knew, and we tried to find somebody who knewRandolph Schuyler, to ask him, but we didn't know anybody who wasacquainted with him at all. Oh, it can't be the rich Schuyler! Whywould he come here?"
"We must get hold of Mr. Steele as soon as possible," said Fenn,excitedly. "Breen, call up his home address again, and if he isn'tthere, go there and stick till he comes. Now, for some one to identifythis body. Call up the Schuyler house--no, better go around there.Where is it, Ferrall?"
"Go straight out to the Avenue, and turn down. It's No.--only part ofa block down. Who's going?"
"You go, Lowney," said Fenn. "Mason, will you go?"
"Yes, of course. Come on, Lowney."
The coroner gave Mrs. Reeves and myself permission to go home, and Iwas glad to go. But Mrs. Reeves declared her intention of staying thenight, what was left of it, in Miss Van Allen's house.
"It's too late for me to go down alone," she said, in her sensibleway. "And, too, I'd rather be here, in case--in case Miss Van Allencomes home. I'm her friend, and I know she'd like me to stay."