The first thing Britz did the following morning was to call the Chief of
Police of Atlanta on the telephone.
"Yes, I've arranged for the writ of habeas corpus," said the Atlanta
chief in response to Britz's questions. "I've also induced the Federal
district-attorney not to oppose the man's discharge. Yes, I also saw the
prisoner last night at the jail. He's worried to death that he'll be
rearrested and given a long term for aiding Whitmore to escape."
"I've helped the Federal authorities when they required local
assistance," replied Britz. "So I feel confident they'll agree to grant
him immunity for helping us to solve this murder case. When do you think
you can obtain his release?"
"This morning, I hope."
"Then he should be in New York to-morrow morning?"
"Yes."
Next Britz called up the coroner.
"Coroner," he said, "I want you to discharge Beard from prison. Mrs.
Collins will be arraigned in Jefferson Market Court this morning and
remanded to your custody. She'll have to stay in the Tombs until
to-morrow, when I'm going to ask you to continue your preliminary
investigation of Whitmore's death. Will you hold court down here?"
"Why all this maneuvering?" inquired the coroner.
"It is necessary," Britz assured him. "We'll solve this case to-morrow,
if you help me."
"Very well!" the coroner agreed.
For half an hour Britz devoted himself to the reports of his various
subordinates. He learned that Ward had spent the night in his home,
while Collins and the detective assigned to guard him, occupied a room
in a Broadway hotel. Britz was interrupted in the further perusal of the
reports by the doorman.
"Mr. Lester Ward is outside."
"Tell him to wait--and see that he does wait!" directed the detective.
It was a quarter of eleven before Britz was ready to receive his
visitor. Ward found the detective with hat and coat on, prepared to
leave the building. He had just received a telephone message from one of
his men at Delmore Park.
"I'm on my way to the coroner's office," said Britz. "Come along!"
Still dazed by the crowded incidents of the last twenty-four hours, Ward
followed the detective to the Criminal Court House, on the ground floor
of which the coroner's office is situated. They found Coroner Hart in
his private room, engrossed in the routine of his work.
"Just a word, coroner!" Britz called him aside.
The two held a whispered consultation, after which the coroner returned
to his desk. Britz and Ward occupied chairs at the farther end of the
room, near the window. Half an hour passed, in which neither of them
spoke. Presently an attendant entered and whispered to the coroner.
"Bring Horace Beard over from the Tombs!" the coroner said aloud.
Ward began to display signs of uneasiness.
"Must I meet him?" he inquired.
"It won't do any harm," Britz replied.
A moment later the door opened again, and was held ajar by the
attendant. Ward tried to avert his gaze from the swinging portal, but
his eyes insensibly wandered back to the spot through which his
successful rival in love must enter. Suddenly the banker leaped out of
his seat and stood stiffly erect, gazing tensely at the attractively
slim figure of Josephine Burden.
"Joe!" he called, advancing timorously.
She shrank back toward the door.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he said, halting half a dozen feet
from where she stood.
"Where is Mr. Beard?" she inquired, an expression of alarm written on
her pale face.
"He'll be here in a minute or two," the coroner informed her. "Sit
down!"
She came forward hesitantly and seated herself on the edge of a chair.
"Josephine!" Ward appealed to her. "Don't you see the mess you are
getting into?"
"What mess?" she inquired innocently.
"Why--the notoriety!" He edged closer to her chair. "You're mad to come
down here! These officers have induced you to come."
"No, I came of my own accord," she said quietly. "I came to see Mr.
Beard."
Ward looked anxiously from Britz to the coroner and back again to the
detective. They understood the silent appeal of his glance--he was
pleading to be let alone with the girl. But they did not see fit to
grant his wish.
"This is no time for you to break the engagement," Ward said to her in
an undertone. "Why don't you think it over? You've been carried away by
sympathy. You've mistaken pity for love."
She shook her head sadly.
"No, I understand the urging of my heart," she answered. "It is useless
for us to discuss it."
The conversation ended abruptly with the entrance of Beard. He was
escorted into the room by a guard from the Tombs, who placed himself at
the prisoner's elbow, prepared to frustrate any sudden break for
liberty.
Beard met the eyes of the girl with an expression which the others were
able to interpret instantly. Not a word passed between the couple, but
their looks sufficiently conveyed their emotions. On beholding Ward,
however, Beard gave a low exclamation of surprise, then looked
inquiringly at the girl. She had no opportunity to explain her own
amazement at finding Ward in the office, for the coroner broke in with
the announcement that he had decided to release Beard.
"I am permitting you to go on your own recognizance," he said to the
astonished prisoner, "but I shall expect you to hold yourself in
readiness to appear here whenever you are wanted."
"I shall be on hand," Beard promised.
"Then you are at liberty to go," the coroner told him.
If Britz expected to witness a hysterical scene between Beard and the
girl, he was doomed to disappointment. He had stage-managed Beard's
release, and he also had arranged for the presence of Miss Burden and
Ward. He had hoped to produce a happy climax, with Ward present as a
conflicting factor, to be carried by jealousy into some foolish act that
would result in open hostility between him and Beard.
The happy climax, Britz succeeded in producing. But it was a most
dignified, genteel, quiet climax. No emotional outburst occurred, no
storm of happiness swept the girl or Beard. The joy they felt was not of
the wild, unharnessed kind. It was like an internal bath of sunshine,
peaceful, radiant, diffusing a quiet happiness about them.
Nor did Ward give any outward sign of being torn by violent emotions. He
held his passions in complete subjugation. If he was consumed by
jealousy, his conduct did not betray it. Not a word did he utter as the
girl linked her arm in Beard's, and, with a flash of gratitude at the
coroner, left the office.
"Did you bring me down to witness this?" Ward turned toward Britz.
"Yes," acknowledged the detective.
"Why?" demanded the banker.
"Because I wanted to ascertain whether I was justified in eliminating
Mr. Beard as the possible assassin of his employer."
"And have you eliminated him?"
"I have."
"Because of what occurred just now?" inquired Ward.
"Because of what did NOT occur," Britz informed him.
"I don't understand." Ward looked his amazement.
"You'll understand to-morrow," said the detective. "You may go, Mr.
Ward," he added. "Your sister undoubtedly has been arraigned in court by
now and probably is at the Tombs. The coroner will give you permission
to visit her."
Britz walked out of the office and proceeded slowly to Police
Headquarters. In the lobby he encountered Greig.
"Come into my office," said Britz. "And ask the chief to come also."
Greig summoned Manning, and the two followed Britz into the room
occupied by the detective.
"Sit down and make yourselves comfortable," said Britz, producing a box
of cigars and offering it to the visitors. Britz summoned the doorman.
"Don't permit anyone to disturb us!" he said to the attendant.
Lighting a fresh cigar, Britz disposed himself at his desk, and, turning
toward Manning and Greig, said:
"I shall now begin to enlighten you with regard to the Whitmore case."