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Mystery of the Boule Cabinet

<h5 id="id00483">THE WOMAN IN THE CASE</h5> It was coming now; the secret, however sordid, however ugly, was to be unveiled. I saw Grady's face set in hard lines; I could hear the stir of interest with which the others leaned forward…. Grady took a flask from his pocket and opened it. "Take a drink of this," he said, and placed it in Rogers's hand. I could hear the mouth of the flask clattering against his teeth, as he put it eagerly to his mouth and took three or four long swallows. "Thank you, sir," he said, more steadily, and handed the flask back to its owner. A little colour crept into his face; but I fancied there was a new look in his eyes—for, as the horror faded, fear took its place. Grady screwed the cap on the flask with great deliberation, and returned it to his pocket. And all the time Rogers was watching him furtively, wiping his mouth mechanically with a trembling hand. "Now, Rogers," Grady began, "I want you to take your time and tell us in detail everything that happened here to-night. You say a woman did it. Well, we want to hear all about that woman. Now go ahead; and remember there's no hurry." "Well, sir," began Rogers slowly, as though carefully considering his words, "Mr. Vantine came out from dinner about half-past seven—maybe a little later than that—and told me to light all the lights in here and in the next room. You see there are gas and electrics both, sir, and I lighted them all. He had gone into the music-room on the other side of the hall, so I went over there and told him the lights were all lit. He was looking at a new picture he'd bought, but he left it right away and come out into the hall. "'I don't want to be disturbed, Rogers,' he said, and come in here and shut the door after him. "It was maybe twenty minutes after that that the door-bell rung, and when I opened the door, there was a woman standing on the steps." He stopped and swallowed once or twice, as though his throat was dry, and I saw that his fingers were twitching nervously. "Did you know her?" questioned Grady. Rogers loosened his collar with a convulsive movement. "No, sir, I'd never seen her before," he answered hoarsely. "Describe her." Rogers closed his eyes, as though in an effort of recollection. "She wore a heavy veil, sir, so that I couldn't see her very well; but the first thing I noticed was her eyes—they were so bright, they seemed to burn right through me. Her face looked white behind her veil, and I could see how red her lips were—I didn't like her looks, sir, from the first." "How was she dressed?" "In a dark gown, sir, cut so skimpy that I knowed she was French before she spoke." "Ah!" said Grady. "She was French, was she?" "Yes, sir; though she could speak some English. She asked for Mr. Vantine. I told her Mr. Vantine was busy. And then she said something very fast about how she must see him, and all the time she kept edging in and in, till the first thing I knowed she was inside the door, and then she just pulled the door out of my hand and shut it. I ask you, sir, is that the way a lady would behave?" "No," said Grady, "I dare say not. But go ahead,—and take your time." Rogers had regained his self-confidence, and he went ahead almost glibly. "'See here, madam,' says I, 'we've had enough trouble here to-day with Frenchies, and if you don't get out quietly, why, I'll have to put you out.' "'I must see Mistaire Vangtine,' she says, very fast. 'I must see Mistaire Vangtine. It is most necessaire that I see Mistaire Vangtine.' "'Then I'll have to put you out,' says I, and took hold of her arm. And at that she screamed and jerked herself away; and I grabbed her again, and just then Mr. Vantine opened the door there and came out into the hall. "'What's all this, Rogers?' he says. 'Who is this party?' "But before I could answer, that wild cat had rushed over to him and begun to reel off a string of French so fast I wondered how she got her breath. And Mr. Vantine looked at her kind of surprised at first, and then he got more interested, and finally he asked her in here and shut the door, and that was the last I saw of them." "You mean you didn't let the woman out?" demanded Grady. "Yes, sir, that's just what I mean. I thought if Mr. Vantine wanted to talk with her, well and good; that was his business, not mine; so I went back to the pantry to help the cook with the silver, expecting to hear the bell every minute. But the bell didn't ring, and after maybe half an hour, I came out into the hall again to see if the woman had gone; and I walked past the door of this room but didn't hear nothing; and then I went on to the front door, and was surprised to find it wasn't latched." "Maybe you hadn't latched it," suggested Grady. "It has a snap-lock, sir; when that woman slammed it shut, I heard it catch." "You're sure of that?" "Quite sure, sir." "What did you do then?" "I closed the door, sir, and then come back along the hall. I felt uneasy, some way; and I stood outside the door there listening; but I couldn't hear nothing; and then I tapped, but there wasn't no answer; so I tapped louder, with my heart somehow working right up into my mouth. And still there wasn't no answer, so I just opened the door and looked in—and the first thing I see was him—" Rogers stopped suddenly, and caught at his throat again. "I'll be all right in a minute, sir," he gasped. "It takes me this way sometimes." "No hurry," Grady assured him, and then, when his breath was coming easier, "What did you do then?" "I was so scared I couldn't scarcely stand, sir; but I managed to get to the foot of the stairs and yell for Parks, and he come running down—and that's all I remember, sir." "The woman wasn't here?" "No, sir." "Did you look through the rooms?" "No, sir; when I found the front door open, I knowed she'd gone out. She hadn't shut the door because she was afraid I'd hear her." "That sounds probable," agreed Grady. "But what makes you think she killed Vantine?" "Well, sir," answered Rogers, slowly, "I guess I oughtn't to have said that; but finding the door open that way, and then coming on Mr. Vantine sort of upset me—I didn't know just what I was saying." "You don't think so now, then?" questioned Grady, sharply. "I don't know what to think, sir." "You say you never saw the woman before?" "Never, sir." "Had she ever been here before?" "I don't think so, sir. The first thing she asked was if this was where Mr. Vantine lived." Grady nodded. "Very good, Rogers," he said. "I'll be offering you a place on the force next. Would you know this woman if you saw her again?" Rogers hesitated. "I wouldn't like to say sure, sir," he answered, at last. "I might and I might not." "Red lips and a white face and bright eyes aren't much to go on," Grady pointed out. "Can't you give us a closer description?" "I'm afraid not, sir. I just got a general impression, like, of her face through her veil." "You say you didn't search these rooms?" "No, sir, I didn't come inside the door." "Why not?" "I was afraid to, sir." "Afraid to?" "Yes, sir; I'm afraid to be here now." "Did Parks come in?" "No, sir; I guess he felt the same way I did." "Then how did you know Vantine was dead? Why didn't you try to help him?" "One look was enough to tell me that wasn't no use," said Rogers, and glanced, with visible horror, at the crumpled form on the floor. Grady looked at him keenly for a moment; but there seemed to be no reason to doubt his story. Then the detective looked about the room. "There's one thing I don't understand," he said, "and that is why Vantine should want all these lights. What was he doing in here?" "I couldn't be sure, sir; but I suppose he was looking at the furniture he brought over from Europe. He was a collector, you know, sir. There are five or six pieces in the next room." Without a word, Grady arose and passed into the room adjoining, we after him; only Rogers remained seated where he was. I remember glancing back over my shoulder and noting how he huddled forward in his chair, as though crushed by a great weight, the instant our backs were turned. But I forgot Rogers in contemplation of the scene before me. The inner room was ablaze with light, and the furniture stood hap-hazard about it, just as I had seen it earlier in the day. Only one thing had been moved. That was the Boule cabinet. It had been carried to the centre of the room, and placed in the full glare of the light from the chandelier. It stood there blazing with arrogant beauty, a thing apart. Who had helped Vantine place it there, I wondered? Neither Rogers nor Parks had mentioned doing so. I turned back to the outer room. Rogers was sitting crouched forward in his chair, his hands over his eyes, and I could feel him jerk with nervousness as I touched him on the shoulder. "Oh, is it you, Mr. Lester?" he gasped. "Pardon me, sir; I'm not at all myself, sir." "I can see that," I said, soothingly; "and no wonder. I just wanted to ask you—did you help move any of the furniture in the room yonder?" "Help move it, sir?" "Yes—help change the position of any of it since this afternoon?" "No, sir; I haven't touched any of it, sir." "That's all right, then," I said, and turned back into the inner room. Vantine had said that he intended examining the cabinet in detail at the first opportunity; I remembered how his eyes had gleamed as he looked at it; how his hand had trembled as he caressed the arabesques. No doubt he was making that examination when he had heard a woman's cry and had gone out into the hall to see what the matter was. Then he and the woman had entered the ante-room together; he had closed the door; and then…. Like a lightning-flash, a thought leaped into my brain—a reason—an explanation—wild, improbable, absurd, but still an explanation! I choked back the cry which rose to my lips; I gripped my hands behind me, in a desperate attempt to hold myself in check; and, fascinated as by a deadly serpent, I stood staring at the cabinet. For there, I felt certain, lay the clue to the mystery! <h2 id="id00572" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER VII</h2> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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