Carolyn Wells

The Complete Detective Fleming Stone Series (All 17 Books in One Edition)


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find out who it was."

      "Oh, detectives never find out anything. I did suggest employing them, I know; but I don't think they do any good. Now look at that bunch of stuff you picked up in my uncle's bedroom; surely that's enough for clues, if clues are wanted. But who could find the man who belongs to all that stuff?"

      "I'm afraid, Mr. Lawrence you haven't a deductive mind. I'm no detective myself, but my legal training makes it natural for me to connect cause and effect. Apparently your mind doesn't work that way."

      "No," said Lawrence, smiling; "I suppose I have what is called the artistic temperament. I am rather careless and inconsequent in my mental attitude, and I certainly never could reason out anything—let alone a gruesome mystery like this. But, for that matter, if you're going to look at the situation in the light of pure reason, it seems to me it's this way: The murderer of my uncle came in from the outside. He couldn't come through the door, therefore he came in through a window; and there you have the whole thing in a nutshell. Now, find your burglar."

      I couldn't help feeling attracted to the young man. Although he spoke in a light tone, he was by no means unmindful of the gravity of the situation, and his only thought seemed to be to refute the absurd suspicion which had fallen on his cousin.

      "But how could any one get in at a window?" I remonstrated. "The windows were all fastened."

      "Don't ask me how he did it! I don't know. I only say he did do it, because he must have done it! If he left clues behind him, so much the better for the detectives. Those handkerchiefs and theater stubs mean nothing to me, but if they could put a detective on the right track I'll be only too glad to pay the gentleman's well-earned fee."

      "What about the key?" I said. "Isn't that a clue?"

      "Clue to what?" returned Lawrence; "it's probably my uncle's own key, that he had slipped under his pillow for safety."

      "That's exactly what I think myself. How can we find out?"

      "Well, I don't see how we can find out until Leroy comes home. I know the will makes me executor,—but of course, I can't do anything in that matter until my uncle's lawyer is present."

      "Why not call up Leroy's office and find out when he's coming home?"

      "Not a bad idea," agreed Lawrence, and putting the plan into action, we learned that Mr. Leroy was not expected back for two days at least. Whereupon we gave orders to his secretary to communicate with him at once, tell him of the tragedy, and urge his immediate return. This was promised, and then our conversation returned to the subject of the lawyer. I discovered at once that Lawrence did not like him, although his denunciation of Leroy was not so severe as Janet's. Indeed Lawrence's chief grievance against the lawyer seemed to be Leroy's desire to marry Janet.

      "He's too old," he exclaimed, when I asked his reasons. "Just because he's a handsome, rich widower, all the women are crazy after him. But Janet isn't,—she detests him."

      I knew this to be true from Miss Pembroke's own words, and at the risk of seeming intrusive, I pursued the subject further.

      "Mr. Pembroke desired the match, didn't he?"

      "Oh yes; Uncle Robert was hand and glove with Leroy. And what that fool colored woman said, was true; Uncle Robert had threatened to disinherit Janet if she persisted in refusing Leroy. But you know as well as I do, that that doesn't mean a thing in connection with the death of Uncle Robert."

      "Of course not," I agreed, heartily. "By the way, of course no suspicion could be attached to Leroy?"

      "Heavens, no! how utterly absurd! and yet——" Lawrence hesitated, and a strange look came into his eyes, "oh, pshaw! suspicion can be attached to anybody and to nobody! to anybody, that is, except Janet. To dream of her in such a connection is impossibility itself."

      "Of course it is," I agreed; "and I don't think you need bother about those foolish remarks of Charlotte's, for I don't think Mr. Ross or his people heard them. By the way, when was Leroy here last?"

      "Why, I don't know. Yes, I know he was here night before last because yesterday afternoon, Janet told me of the terrible scene they all had with uncle. He was in such a rage that Janet begged Mr. Leroy to go away."

      "What an old Tartar that man was!" I exclaimed, my whole heart going out in sympathy to the poor girl who had borne such injustice and unkindness.

      "He was all of that," assented Lawrence, "and in my secret heart I can't grieve very deeply because he's gone. But of course——"

      "Of course his death must be avenged," I continued for him, "and proper measures must be taken, and at once."

      "Yes, I suppose so," agreed Lawrence, with a sigh. "And I will do my part, whatever it may be. But I confess I have no taste for this investigation business. If you have, Landon, I wish to goodness you'd go ahead and examine the whole place to your heart's content. I'd be glad to have it done, but I can't bear to do it myself, and I'd take it kindly of you if you'd help me out."

      At this, since George wouldn't accompany me, I myself thoroughly examined all the windows of the apartment. I have, I am sure, what is known as the "detective instinct." I am of the conviction that it is scarcely possible for a human being to be in a room, even for a short time, and go from it without leaving behind him some evidence of his having been there. So I made a round of the rooms. I scrutinized every window. The only ones I found open were those which Charlotte had said she had herself opened that morning. The others were securely fastened with an ingenious contrivance which was really burglar-proof. Granting Charlotte's assertions to be true, which I had no reason to doubt, the net was surely drawing closely around these two women. But I felt sure there was some other possibility, and I determined to discover it.

      There was no back stair or kitchen exit. The dumb-waiter had a strong snap bolt and closed itself, without any means of opening from the other side. Then I returned and carefully examined the front door. The Hale lock, though easily opened with its own key, was not to be opened otherwise; and, aside from this, a key was of no use if the night-chain was on. I looked at the heavy brass chain; then I put it in its slot, and opened the door the slight distance that the chain allowed. The opening was barely large enough to admit my hand. There was no possibility of a man getting through that tiny crack, nor could he by any chance put his hand through and slide the chain back; for to remove the chain I had to close the door again, as Charlotte had done this morning.

      For the first time I began to feel that I was really facing a terrible situation.

      If only I had kept silent about that chain, and if Janet and Charlotte had also failed to mention it, there would have been ample grounds for suspecting that an intruder had come in by the front door.

      But realizing myself that the windows had all been secured, and that the chain had been on all night, what possibility was left save the implication of one or both of the only human beings shut inside with the victim?

      Bah! There must be other possibilities, no matter how improbable they might be. Perhaps an intruder had come in before the door was chained, and had concealed himself until midnight and then had committed the crime.

      But I was forced to admit that he could not have put the chain on the door behind him when he went away.

      I even tried this, and, of course, when the door was sufficiently ajar to get my hand through, I could not push the end of the chain back to its socket. The door had to be closed to do this.

      With a growing terror at my heart, I reviewed other possibilities. Perhaps the intruder had remained in the house all night, and had slipped away unobserved in the morning.

      But he couldn't have gone before Charlotte unchained the door, and since then there had been a crowd of people around constantly.

      Still this must have been the way, because there was no other way. Possibly he could have remained in the house over night, and part of the morning, and slipped out during the slight commotion caused by the entrance of the jurymen. But this was palpably absurd, for with the jurors and the officials