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Chain of Evidence

<h2>XXI</h2> <h3>FLEMING STONE</h3> At dinner and during Saturday evening, Janet seemed so sad and depressed in spirits, that I seconded Laura's efforts to divert her mind from all thoughts of the tragedy. It was not so difficult as it might seem, for the girl's strange temperament was volatile, and her thoughts were easily led to any subject we suggested. We talked of books and music, and finally of personal acquaintances, discovering that we had a few in common. Although I did not know the Warings personally they were acquaintances of some friends of mine, and I gathered from Janet's remarks that Millicent Waring was one of her intimates. The evening passed pleasantly enough, but after Laura had carried Janet away to rest for the night, I sat and pondered deeply over my case. Try as I would, I could not feel that Mr. Gresham had any guilty knowledge of the affair; and if he had, I could think of no way to turn suspicion in his direction. Except, of course, through the handkerchief, which now seemed to me an insoluble mystery. [Pg 265] And except for the slender hope resting upon that handkerchief, I had nothing to offer in the way of evidence against any person or persons other than the girl I loved. It was then that I bethought me of Fleming Stone. I had recently heard of the marvellous work this great detective had done in the Maxwell case, and I wondered that I had not thought of him before. Beside his powers the efforts of minor detectives paled into insignificance. His services were expensive, I knew, but George Lawrence had authorized the employment of a detective, and I did not believe he would object to the outlay. Then, too, my client was now a rich woman, or would be, as soon as the estate was settled. I admitted my own inability to read the mystery in the clues I had at my disposal, but I felt sure that Stone could do so. Then the horrible thought struck me, what if Stone's inexorable finger should point toward Janet! But this I would not allow myself to consider, for I could not believe it possible; and, moreover, without Stone's intervention, the law was determined to accuse Janet, anyway, therefore Stone's help was the only possible chance I could see for help. And so I went to bed with a hopeful heart, that[Pg 266] since truth must triumph, and since Fleming Stone could discover the truth if any one could, that Janet's exoneration was practically assured. I was uncertain whether or not to tell Janet of my decision to consult Fleming Stone. And all Sunday morning I hesitated about the matter. It was late Sunday afternoon before I concluded that it would be better to inform her of my plan, and this conclusion was really brought about more by opportunity than by decision. Laura had gone out, and Janet and I sat alone in our pleasant library. The girl looked so sweet and dear, in her pathetic black robes, that my heart yearned to comfort her. Her face was sad and very gentle of expression; her dark eyes showing that wistful look that I had learned to watch for. The corners of her red mouth drooped a little, and she looked like a tired child who ought to be protected and cared for against all misfortune. "I thought George would come up this afternoon," she said, as she stood looking idly out of the window, where her slight black-robed figure made a lovely picture against the background of the gold-colored silk curtain. "I'm glad he didn't," I said involuntarily; "I'm glad to have you to myself." She looked up startled, for I never before expressed[Pg 267] a hint of my personal feeling toward her. What she read in my eyes must have been intelligible to her, for her own lids dropped, and a soft pink blush showed faintly on her pale cheeks. "Do you mind that I want you to myself?" I said, going to her side. "No," she replied and again she gave me a fleeting glance that proved her not entirely unconscious of my meaning, and not offended by it. "Janet," I went on, taking both her hands in mine, "it may seem dreadful to tell you now, when I've known you but a few days, but I must tell you that I love you. You know it, of course, and believe me, dear, I'm not asking you to respond,—yet. Just let me love you now, until this wretched business is finished, and then, after that, let me teach you to love me." "It's too late for you to do that," she whispered, and then, overcome with this sudden knowledge, I clasped her in my arms and realized the meaning of the tenderness in her eyes and the wistful droop of her scarlet lips. "You darling," I murmured, as I held her close; "you precious, contradictory bit of feminine humanity! This is the most blessed of all your contradictions, for I never dreamed that you already loved me." [Pg 268] "But you can't doubt it now, can you?" she returned, as she rested, contentedly, in my embrace. "No, dearest, you are not easy to understand, there is much about your nature that puzzles me, but when that true, sincere look comes into your eyes, I know you are in earnest. Oh, Janet, my darling, how happy we shall be after all this troublesome mystery is cleared up, and you and I can devote our whole life to caring for each other." "I shall be so glad to be happy," she said, with a wistful little sigh, and I remembered that her life, so far, had given her little or no joy. "Sweetheart," I said, "my life purpose henceforth shall be to give you happiness enough to make up for the sad years you have spent. "You can easily do that, my dear," and the tenderness in her eyes fairly transfigured her. And then, with a pretty impetuous gesture, she hid her face on my shoulder. "But it doesn't seem possible," I said, after a time, "that you can really love me when you've known me but a few days." "That doesn't count in a love like ours," said Janet, speaking almost solemnly. "It is not the kind that requires time to grow." "No," I agreed, "it was born full grown. I[Pg 269] always told Laura that when I fell in love it would be at first sight, and it was. The marvellous part, dear, is that you care, too." "Care!" she exclaimed, and the depths of love in her eyes gave me a hint of her emotional nature; "but," she went on, "this is all wrong. You must not talk to me like this, and I must not listen to it. I am under suspicion of having committed a crime. Surely you cannot love me until I am freed from that." "But you are not guilty?" I asked the question not because of any doubt in my own mind, but because I wanted for once to hear her own statement of her innocence. "That I shall not tell you," she said, and her eyes took on a faraway, inscrutable look, as of a sphinx; "that you must find out for yourself. Or rather, no, I don't want you to find out. I want it always to remain a mystery." "What, Janet! you don't want me to find out who killed your uncle!" "Oh, no, no!" and her voice rang out in agonized entreaty; "please don't, Otis; please don't try to find out who did it!" "But then, dear, how can you be freed from suspicion? and I want to tell you, Janet, I want to tell you now, while I hold you in my arms,—I want[Pg 270] to tell you in the same breath that I tell you of my love,—that you will be accused of this crime, unless the real criminal is discovered." "How do you know I'm not the real criminal?" "I know it for two reasons. First, because I love you, and I'm telling you so; and second, because you love me, and——" "I'm not telling you so," she interrupted, and a look of pain came into her dear eyes as she tried to resist my embrace. "You don't have to tell me, dear," I said, quietly, "I know it. But you must tell me who it is that you are trying to shield by your strange ways and words. Is it Leroy? It can't be Charlotte." "I'm not shielding anybody," she cried out; "the jury people proved that I must have killed Uncle Robert myself, and so, you see, I must have done so." "Now you're talking childishly," I said, as I soothed her, gently; "of course you didn't kill him, darling; but you do know more about it than you have yet told, and you must tell me, because I'm going to save you from any further unpleasantness. I wish I could understand you, you bewitching mystery! You are surely shielding some one. It can't be that absurd J. S. I hardly think it can[Pg 271] be the man of the handkerchief; oh, but I haven't told you about that yet. It can't be George,—because he has a perfect alibi." "I suppose if it were not for that alibi, George might be suspected," said Janet slowly. "Indeed he might, but as there are people to swear to his presence in another part of town at the time of the crime, he is beyond suspicion. I wish you had such an alibi, dearest." "Oh, I wish I did! Otis, what do you think? You know I was locked in that house and nobody could get in. You know I didn't kill Uncle Robert. Now who did?" "Janet," I said, very seriously, "I don't know. And I have nearly lost hope of finding out. So I will tell you what I have decided to do; I'm going to consult Fleming Stone." "Fleming Stone? Who is he?" "He is probably the cleverest detective in the city. I feel sure that he can solve our mystery, if he will undertake it." "Oh, don't have a detective!" she cried; "at least, not that Mr. Stone. He can find out everything!" "And don't you want everything found out?" I asked, looking at her intently. "No!" she cried vehemently. "I don't! I[Pg 272] want Uncle Robert's death always to remain a mystery!" "It can't be a greater mystery than you are!" I exclaimed, for the words were wrung from me as I looked at the girl's face, which had again taken on that white, impassive look. It was at that moment that Laura returned, and as she entered the library, Janet fled away to her own room. Laura looked at me questioningly, and I told her quite frankly all that had passed between Janet and myself. She kissed me tenderly, like the dear sister that she is, and said; "Don't worry, Otis; it will come out all right. I know Janet much better than you do. She is innocent, of course, but she is so unnerved and distraught with these dreadful days, that I'm only surprised she bears up as well as she does. Leave her to me, and you go and get your Fleming Stone, and use every effort to persuade him to take the case." As it had been my life-long habit to take Laura's advice, especially when it coincided with my own inclination I started off at once to hunt up Fleming Stone. I knew the man slightly, having run across him[Pg 273] a few times in a business way, and I knew that not only were his services exceedingly high-priced, but also that he never took any case unless of great difficulty and peculiar interest. I hoped, however, that the circumstances of the Pembroke affair would appeal to him, and I determined to use every effort to interest him in it. By good fortune, I found him at home, and willing to listen to a statement of my business. <div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/ill_003.jpg" width-obs="127" height-obs="400" alt="" /> FLEMING STONE</div> Fleming Stone's personality was not at all of the taciturn, inscrutable variety. He was a large man, of genial and charming manner, and possessed of a personal magnetism that seemed to invite confidence and confidences. I knew him well enough to know that if I could win his interest at all it would be by a brief statement of the mystery as a puzzle, and a request that he help me solve it. "Mr. Stone," I began, "if three persons spent the night in an apartment so securely locked on the inside that there was no possible means of ingress, and if in the morning it was found that one of those three persons had been murdered at midnight, would you say that the guilt must rest upon either one or both of the other two persons?" At any rate, I had succeeded in catching the man's attention. [Pg 274] As there was no question of personal feeling in my statement, he seemed to look at it as an abstract problem, and replied at once: "According to the facts as you have stated them, the guilt must necessarily rest upon one or both of the other two persons. But this is assuming that it really was a murder, that there really was no mode of ingress, and that there really were no other persons in the apartment." Having secured Fleming Stone's interest in the abstract statement, I proceeded to lay before him the concrete story of the Pembroke affair. He listened gravely, asking only one or two questions, and when I had told him all I knew about it he sat thinking for a few moments. At last, unable to control my impatience, I said: "Do you now think the guilt rests upon either one or both of those women?" As I have said, Mr. Stone was not of the secretive and close-mouthed style of detective, and he said in his frank and pleasant way: "Not necessarily, by any means. Indeed, from what you have told me, I should say that the two women knew nothing about the crime until the morning. But this, of course, is a mere surmise, based on your account of the case." As I had told him the facts as I knew them,[Pg 275] with all their horrible incrimination of Janet, I was greatly relieved at his words. "Then," said I, "will you take up the case, and find the criminal as soon as may be? Money is no object, but time is precious, as I strongly desire to avoid any possibility of a trial of Miss Pembroke." "Have you any other clues other than those you have told me?" "I haven't told you any," I said, in some surprise; "but we certainly have several." He listened with the greatest attention, while I told him in rapid succession of the key, the time-table, the ticket stubs, the torn telegram, the handkerchief, and finally, the missing money. "Have you traced these to their sources?" he inquired. "We have, and each one led to a different man." I then told him of Jonathan Scudder, of Graham Leroy, of James Decker, and of William Sydney Gresham, and he listened with a half-smile on his pleasant, responsive face. "Of course you can see all these clues for yourself," I went on, "and I feel sure, Mr. Stone, that by an examination of them, you can deduce much of the personality of the criminal." "I don't care to see them," was his astonishing[Pg 276] answer; "I have already deduced from them the evidence that they clearly show." "Your statement would amaze me," I said, "except that I had resolved not to be surprised at anything you might say or do, for I know your methods are mysterious and your powers little short of miraculous." "Don't credit me with supernatural ability, Mr. Landon," said Stone, smiling genially. "Let me compliment you on the graphic way in which you have described that collection of clues. I can fairly see them, in my mind's eye lying before me. Were not the ticket stubs bent and broken and a good deal soiled?" "They were," I said, staring at him. "And was the time-table smudged with dirt, and perhaps bearing an impress of tiny dots in regular rows?" "Now I know you're a wizard!" I exclaimed, "for that's exactly what I did see! such a mark on the first page of that time-table!" "It might easily not have been there," said Stone, musingly; "I confess I chanced that. It was merely a hazard, but it helps. Yes, Mr. Landon, your collection of clues is indeed valuable and of decided assistance in discovering the identity of the person or persons unknown." [Pg 277] It struck a chill to my heart that Fleming Stone seemed to avoid the use of a masculine pronoun. Could he, too, think that a woman was implicated, and if not, why didn't he say the man who committed the crime, instead of dodging behind the vague term he had used. With a desperate idea of forcing this point, I said; "The Coroner believes that since the weapon used was a hat-pin, the criminal was a woman." "Why did you say it was a hat-pin?" said Fleming Stone, and I realized that his brain was already busy with the subtleties of the case. "The doctors stated that it was part of a hat-pin, the other end of which had been broken off." "Did you see the pin that was extracted from the wound?" "I did." "How long was it?" "Almost exactly four inches." "And are you prepared to affirm that it is part of a hat-pin, and not a complete pin of a shorter length?" "I am not. The thought did not before occur to me. But as it had no head on it, we assumed that it was probably the half of a broken hat-pin. It is by no means the first instance on record of using a hat-pin as a murderous weapon." [Pg 278] "No," said Fleming Stone; "and yet that does not prove it a hat-pin. May it not have been a shawl-pin, or some shorter pin that women use in their costumes?" "It may have been," said I; "but women do not wear shawls nowadays. At any rate, any pin of that length would seem to indicate a woman's crime." "Well, as a rule," said Fleming Stone, smiling, "we men do not pin our garments together; but I dare say almost any man, if he wanted one, could gain possession of such a pin." How true this was, and how foolish we had been to assume that a woman's pin must have meant a woman's crime! A picture passed through my mind of Laura's dressing-table, where I could have procured any kind of a pin, with no trouble whatever. "Moreover," went on Fleming Stone, "the great majority of hat-pins used in America will not break. They will bend, as they are usually made of iron, though occasionally of steel." I looked at the man with growing admiration. How widespread was his knowledge, and how logical his deduction! "I should have to see the pin," said Stone, "before[Pg 279] drawing any conclusion from it. You did not examine it closely, you say?" I had not said so, but I suppose he deduced it from my slight knowledge of its characteristics. "I did not examine it through a microscope," I replied. "You should have done so. If it were really a broken hat-pin, it would show a clean, bright break at the end; whereas, were it a shorter pin which had lost its head, it would show at the end a fraction of an inch of duller steel, and perhaps an irregular surface where the head had been attached." "I can see that you are right, but I cannot see why it should make much difference which it was." "My dear sir, according to your statement, the only clue we have to work upon is the weapon which was used. The weapon is always an important item, if not the most important, and it cannot be scrutinized too closely or examined too minutely, for, sooner or later, it is almost always certain to expose the criminal." "I had thought," I said humbly, "that I possessed a degree of detective instinct, but I now see I was mistaken. I assumed the pin to be a hat-pin, and thought no more about it." [Pg 280] "It may be one," said Stone, "and the only way to find out is to see it. Of course I must also examine the apartment, and then, if necessary, question some of the parties concerned. But at this moment I have little doubt in my mind as to who killed Robert Pembroke. I will take the case, because, though unusual, it promises to be a short one. I think I may safely say that by to-morrow night at this hour we will not only have discovered the criminal, but obtained a confession. But I will say the criminal has been very, very clever. In fact, I think I should never have conceived of such various kinds of cleverness combined in one crime. But, as is often the case, he has outwitted himself. His very cleverness is his undoing." Surely the man was a wizard! I looked at him without a word after he had made his astounding announcement. I had no idea whom he suspected, but I knew he would not tell me if I asked, so I thought best to express no curiosity, but to leave the matter in his hands, and await his further pleasure. "You can go at once to see the apartment," I said; "but to look at the pin we shall have to wait until morning, as I think it is in charge of the coroner." "It must all wait till morning," said Fleming[Pg 281] Stone, "as I have other work that I must attend to this evening." I accepted my dismissal, and, making an appointment to call for him the next day, I turned my steps homeward. I had purposely said nothing to Fleming Stone of my suspicion of George Lawrence. Indeed, it was scarcely strong enough to be called a suspicion, and, too, the mere idea of his going into the apartment implied the idea of his being let in by Janet. Therefore, I had contended myself with telling Stone the facts as I knew them, and suppressing my own opinion. Also, it seemed a dreadful thing to cast suspicion on Lawrence, when I had no evidence of any sort. <hr class="chap" /> [Pg 282] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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