DETECTIVE EBENEZER GRYCE - Complete Murder-Mysteries Collection: 11 Novels in One Volume
not admit him to a knowledge of the existence of this piece of evidence. I don’t believe in letting any one into our confidence whom we can conscientiously keep out.”
“I see you don’t,” dryly responded Mr. Gryce.
Not appearing to notice the fling conveyed by these words, I took up the letter once more, and began pointing out such half-formed words in it as I thought we might venture to complete, as the Hor—, yo—, see—utiful——, har——, for——, tramplin——, pable——, serv——.
This done, I next proposed the introduction of such others as seemed necessary to the sense, as Leavenworth after Horatio; Sir after Dear; have with a possible you before a niece; thorn after its in the phrase rose has its; on after trampling; whom after to; debt after a; you after If; me ask after believe; beautiful after cruel.
Between the columns of words thus furnished I interposed a phrase or two, here and there, the whole reading upon its completion as follows:
“—————— House.” March 1st, 1876.
“Mr. Horatio Leavenworth; Dear Sir:
“(You) have a niece whom you one too who seems worthy the love and trust of any other man ca so beautiful, so charming is she in face form and conversation. But every rose has its thorn and (this) rose is no exception lovely as she is, charming (as she is,) tender as she is, she is capable of trampling on one who trusted her
heart a
him to whom she owes a debt of honor a ance
“If you don’t believe me ask her to her cruel beautiful face what is (her) humble servant yours:
“Henry Ritchie Clavering.”
“I think that will do,” said Mr. Gryce. “Its general tenor is evident, and that is all we want at this time.”
“The whole tone of it is anything but complimentary to the lady it mentions,” I remarked. “He must have had, or imagined he had, some desperate grievance, to provoke him to the use of such plain language in regard to one he can still characterize as tender, charming, beautiful.”
“Grievances are apt to lie back of mysterious crimes.”
“I think I know what this one was,” I said; “but”—seeing him look up—“must decline to communicate my suspicion to you for the present. My theory stands unshaken, and in some degree confirmed; and that is all I can say.”
“Then this letter does not supply the link you wanted?”
“No: it is a valuable bit of evidence; but it is not the link I am in search of just now.”
“Yet it must be an important clue, or Eleanore Leavenworth would not have been to such pains, first to take it in the way she did from her uncle’s table, and secondly——”
“Wait! what makes you think this is the paper she took, or was believed to have taken, from Mr. Leavenworth’s table on that fatal morning?”
“Why, the fact that it was found together with the key, which we know she dropped into the grate, and that there are drops of blood on it.”
I shook my head.
“Why do you shake your head?” asked Mr. Gryce.
“Because I am not satisfied with your reason for believing this to be the paper taken by her from Mr. Leavenworth’s table.”
“And why?”
“Well, first, because Fobbs does not speak of seeing any paper in her hand, when she bent over the fire; leaving us to conclude that these pieces were in the scuttle of coal she threw upon it; which surely you must acknowledge to be a strange place for her to have put a paper she took such pains to gain possession of; and, secondly, for the reason that these scraps were twisted as if they had been used for curl papers, or something of that kind; a fact hard to explain by your hypothesis.”
The detective’s eye stole in the direction of my necktie, which was as near as he ever came to a face. “You are a bright one,” said he; “a very bright one. I quite admire you, Mr. Raymond.”
A little surprised, and not altogether pleased with this unexpected compliment, I regarded him doubtfully for a moment and then asked:
“What is your opinion upon the matter?”
“Oh, you know I have no opinion. I gave up everything of that kind when I put the affair into your hands.”
“Still——”
“That the letter of which these scraps are the remnant was on Mr. Leavenworth’s table at the time of the murder is believed. That upon the body being removed, a paper was taken from the table by Miss Eleanore Leavenworth, is also believed. That, when she found her action had been noticed, and attention called to this paper and the key, she resorted to subterfuge in order to escape the vigilance of the watch that had been set over her, and, partially succeeding in her endeavor, flung the key into the fire from which these same scraps were afterwards recovered, is also known. The conclusion I leave to your judgment.”
“Very well, then,” said I, rising; “we will let conclusions go for the present. My mind must be satisfied in regard to the truth or falsity of a certain theory of mine, for my judgment to be worth much on this or any other matter connected with the affair.”
And, only waiting to get the address of his subordinate P., in case I should need assistance in my investigations, I left Mr. Gryce, and proceeded immediately to the house of Mr. Veeley.
Chapter XXIII.
The Story of a Charming Woman
“Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.”
—Old Song.
“I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted.”
—Measure for Measure.
“You have never heard, then, the particulars of Mr. Leavenworth’s marriage?”
It was my partner who spoke. I had been asking him to explain to me Mr. Leavenworth’s well-known antipathy to the English race.
“No.”
“If you had, you would not need to come to me for this explanation. But it is not strange you are ignorant of the matter. I doubt if there are half a dozen persons in existence who could tell you where Horatio Leavenworth found the lovely woman who afterwards became his wife, much less give you any details of the circumstances which led to his marriage.”
“I am very fortunate, then, in being in the confidence of one who can. What were those circumstances, Mr. Veeley?”
“It will aid you but little to hear. Horatio Leavenworth, when a young man, was very ambitious; so much so, that at one time he aspired to marry a wealthy lady of Providence. But, chancing to go to England, he there met a young woman whose grace and charm had such an effect upon him that he relinquished all thought of the Providence lady, though it was some time before he could face the prospect of marrying the one who had so greatly interested him; as she was not only in humble circumstances, but was encumbered with a child concerning whose parentage the neighbors professed ignorance, and she had nothing to say. But, as is very apt to be the case in an affair like this, love and admiration soon got the better of worldly wisdom. Taking his future in his hands, he offered himself as her husband, when she immediately proved herself worthy of his regard by entering at once into those explanations he was too much of a gentleman to demand.
The story she told was pitiful. She proved to be an American by birth, her father having been a