CHAPTER XXI

Both Britz and Manning were skilled in the art of concealing their

emotions. Their brains might be working furiously, their hearts

throbbing with excitement, they might be laboring under the greatest

stress of mind, yet they were able to command a placid exterior,

unruffled as polished ivory.

Their conduct as they entered the Police Headquarters the following

morning gave no suggestion of the strain which they were undergoing.

Their faces reflected none of the anxious expectancy with which they

looked forward to the enactment of the great climax in the Whitmore

case.

But the trained newspaper man, as well as the skilled police officer, is

endowed with a peculiar instinct by which he seems to detect, without

apparent reason, the presence of impending excitement. He seems to smell

it in the air. So that even before Britz began issuing instructions to

his men and sending them scurrying out of the building, the reporters at

Police Headquarters appeared to know that something of the utmost

importance was about to transpire.

That it concerned the Whitmore case became evident when Mrs. Collins was

escorted to the building and ushered into Britz's office. She was

followed in a few minutes by Collins, Ward and Beard, all of whom had

been summoned by Britz.

Next, Luckstone was seen to jump out of an automobile and tear up the

steps as if afraid that his ultimate fate depended on the moments

required to reach his clients. Finally Coroner Hart entered the

building, and was immediately accosted by the reporters.

"What's coming off?" they inquired.

"I don't know myself," he said truthfully. "Britz seems to think

something's going to happen."

It was ten o'clock precisely when Britz, Manning, Greig and the coroner

passed from the chief's office into the room in which the suspects in

the Whitmore mystery were gathered. They found Luckstone in command of

the situation.

"What does this mean?" he demanded, advancing toward Britz's desk.

"It means that the coroner is about to resume his preliminary inquiry

into the death of Herbert Whitmore," the detective informed him.

"And have I been summoned here as a witness or as counsel to the

accused?"

"As counsel, of course," said Britz.

"Then as the attorney for Mrs. Collins and as the legal adviser of the

other witnesses I wish to inform you that this proposed examination is

utterly useless. I have instructed my clients not to answer any

questions."

Britz's eyes swept the faces of the witnesses in a look of sharp

scrutiny. He found Mrs. Collins outwardly composed. The dark rings about

her eyes betrayed a night of sleeplessness, but otherwise she looked as

fresh as if she had just stepped out of her private boudoir, instead of

a narrow, stuffy cell in the woman's wing of the Tombs. Evidently she

had prepared herself for a great test and had summoned all the stubborn

courage of one resigned to suffering, yet who meant to hide her agony

from the eyes of the world.

Of the others, Collins appeared to be the most uneasy. He looked almost

frightened. From time to time his gaze fixed itself on the face of his

wife, but she kept her eyes averted. Only a slight constraint of manner

exposed Ward and Beard's diminishing self-control.

"Since the witnesses have been cautioned to remain silent," said Britz,

addressing the coroner, "and as they appear resolved to stay mute, we

cannot escape the conviction that they have knowledge of the

circumstances surrounding the murder of Mr. Whitmore. At present Mrs.

Collins is the only prisoner. She is accused as an accessory to the

crime. We have ample evidence to establish our case against her. We know

of her relations with the deceased. We know, furthermore, that the

failure of her brother's bank spelled financial ruin for her, for

Collins and for Ward. All three must have been aware that the failure

was imminent--that it was inevitable. So Collins, pretending that the

sanctity of his home had been violated, went around threatening to kill

Whitmore. Of course, it was a shallow pretense, designed to conceal the

conspiracy between him, his wife and Ward to obtain possession of

Whitmore's estate. We have the weapon with which Whitmore was killed. We

have fastened its ownership on Collins. The evidence against him is

sufficient to send him to the electric chair. We also have ample

evidence with which to convict Mrs. Collins and Ward as accessories

after the fact--the law is very plain concerning the concealment of

evidence. But I am about to lay a graver charge against them. I have a

letter written by Ward in which he implores Whitmore to extend financial

assistance to him. Mrs. Collins joined in writing that letter, and,

moreover, after the murder, I found her in Beard's home endeavoring to

obtain possession of the note. With that letter and other evidence which

I have gathered, I am prepared to accuse Mrs. Collins and Ward as

accessories _before_ the fact. Against Collins I am ready to present a

charge of murder in the first degree."

The accused persons looked gravely at their lawyer. But he remained

entirely unperturbed, not even vouchsafing a mild protest against the

detective's direct accusations.

It was the coroner who broke the silence.

"Then as I understand it," he said, "you wish me to commit Collins on a

charge of first degree murder, and Mrs. Collins and Ward as accessories

before the fact?"

"Precisely," answered the detective.

"Of course, I don't want to take so drastic a step unless I am

compelled." The coroner shook his head dubiously. He had been primed by

Britz and was following the part which he had been directed to play. "As

the evidence stands, I can see no other course to pursue. But I'm not

going to commit anyone on such a terrible charge simply because the

police request it. Nor shall I ask Mrs. Collins, Collins or Ward a

single question, for anything they say may be used against them. But if

Mr. Luckstone cares to present any facts tending to establish the

innocence of the accused, I am ready to listen and to give due

consideration to anything that he might offer."

The judicial attitude adopted by the coroner surprised and gratified the

lawyer. Evidently here was a conscientious official who was not to be

precipitated into hasty action at the behest of the police.

"Coroner," said the lawyer, moving his chair forward, "this police

officer has been endeavoring to create an atmosphere of guilt about my

clients. But in this age prosecutors are compelled to offer something

more substantial than atmosphere on which to base their accusations. I

realize fully the gravity of the situation as regards my clients. They

are absolutely innocent and there will be no difficulty in establishing

their innocence before a jury. But we are not anxious to proceed to a

public trial, with all the useless suffering which it must entail. In my

experience before the bar I have found coroners and committing

magistrates invariably predisposed toward the police. They will commit

on the flimsiest kind of evidence, content to leave the judicial

determination of the case to the higher courts. But the law invests you

with a wide discretion in homicide cases. And if you are prepared to

scrutinize the evidence carefully before accepting the accusations made

by Lieutenant Britz, then I believe I can convince you in short order

how absolutely baseless his charges are."

"I have no desire to commit an innocent man or woman to prison,"

answered the coroner. "I am not an agent of the police. I am a judicial

officer and as such I am prepared to protect the innocent to the limit

of my powers."

Britz had so arranged the chairs in his office as to compel those in the

room to resolve themselves into two separate groups, like opposing sides

in a judicial proceeding. Behind the detective's flat-top desk sat the

coroner, while about him were ranged Britz, Manning and Greig. Facing

the desk, at a distance of a dozen feet, sat Mrs. Collins, Ward, Beard

and Collins, with Luckstone occupying a chair in the middle.

The sincerity of tone in which the coroner expressed his willingness to

consider the evidence of both sides, encouraged the lawyer to proceed.

"Mr. Whitmore was found dead in his office at the hour when his clerks

prepared to go to lunch," he began, in the tone of an advocate

addressing a high tribunal on a question of law, rather than of fact.

"It has been established beyond question that he arrived at his office

between nine and ten o'clock, and that he did not leave his office all

morning. It is also a matter of common knowledge that he had no visitors

that morning, and the twenty or thirty clerks in the outer office have

all sworn that they heard no shot fired and saw no one enter or leave

Mr. Whitmore's private room. Now I do not pretend to offer any

explanation as to how Mr. Whitmore was killed. But I do maintain that

the accusing police officer should be asked to tell how the alleged

murderer got to his victim."

"I am not prepared to go into that as yet," Britz interrupted.

"But you mean to imply that you have a satisfactory explanation to

offer?" questioned the lawyer.

"That phase of the case gives me no concern," Britz replied curtly. "It

is a minor feature of this investigation."

A shade of anxiety passed over the lawyer's face as he noted the

coolness with which the detective dismissed what was generally regarded

as the most puzzling feature of the entire case. It occurred to him,

however, that the detective might be indulging in the favorite police

game of bluff--that his easy dismissal of one of the most important

features of the mystery was but a sham, a pretense designed to cover his

ignorance.

"If you regard the matter so lightly, why don't you disclose your

knowledge to the coroner?" he taunted the detective.

"Perhaps he has already done so," the coroner interjected. "At any rate

it is self-evident that somebody _did_ get to Whitmore and that Whitmore

was killed by a bullet wound."

"Very well," said the lawyer, accepting the suggestion. "It is none of

my affair, nor does it concern my clients, how the assassin managed to

enter and leave Mr. Whitmore's office without being seen by the clerks.

The point is, that Collins wasn't within fifteen miles of Mr. Whitmore's

office on the day Mr. Whitmore was found dead. And the same circumstance

of remoteness from the scene of the crime, absolves Mrs. Collins, Mr.

Ward and Beard from participation in the crime."

The lawyer shot an exultant glance at Britz, a glance that adequately

conveyed the conviction that he had shattered the entire case against

his clients.

Coroner Hart glanced inquiringly from Britz to Chief Manning, as if

waiting for some cue.

"Does Mr. Luckstone mean he's got an alibi for all his clients?" Manning

said experimentally.

"You caught my meaning precisely." The lawyer smiled confidently at the

officials. "Moreover, Mr. Coroner, I shall not hesitate to disclose the

nature of our alibis. The police may investigate them and we shall lend

all the assistance in our power."

"Of course, there can be no better defense than an alibi," commented the

coroner.

"Here are the facts," Luckstone proceeded eagerly. "On the day of the

crime, Mr. Collins did not leave his home. Neither did Mrs. Collins. All

the servants will bear us out in that. But we have other disinterested

witnesses who called at Mrs. Collins's house at various times during the

morning and who saw both Mr. and Mrs. Collins in the house. There is the

employé of the lighting company who came to read the electric meter, two

employés of a vacuum cleaning company whose names you may have, and the

canvasser for a magazine who came to solicit a subscription. I have no

hesitancy in giving you their names, so you may question them privately.

"As for Mr. Ward and Mr. Beard, their alibis are equally strong. Mr.

Ward took the eight-twenty train at Delmore Park, as was his daily

custom. He was seen by the station agent and the conductor. Moreover,

seven other residents of Delmore Park were in the same coach, and all of

them are prepared to testify in Mr. Ward's behalf. His movements after

arriving at Grand Central Station fortunately came under the observation

of disinterested witnesses. He rode downtown with two of his Delmore

Park friends, and one of them accompanied him to the door of the bank.

All the employés of the institution are prepared to testify that Mr.

Ward did not leave his office until two o'clock."

The lawyer paused to note the impression of his words on the coroner.

That official was listening intently, fully cognizant of the weighty

import of the attorney's statement.

"Is it necessary to supply an alibi for Mr. Beard?" Luckstone inquired,

as if under the impression that the secretary had been eliminated from

the case.

"If he has one you may as well outline it," the coroner replied.

The lawyer complied without further urging.

"Mr. Beard spent the entire morning in the vaults of a safety deposit

company whose name Lieutenant Britz already has. He was at all times

under the observation of the company's watchman."

With the air of one who has succeeded in establishing his case beyond

possibility of doubt, the lawyer sat down. The faces of the coroner, the

chief and Greig were cast in an expression of grave apprehension. The

frankness with which Luckstone had revealed the evidence on which he

based his alibis could leave no doubt that the witnesses would confirm

all he had said. And against such a downpour of disinterested evidence

the police could not hope to sustain their case.

Britz had listened to Luckstone's recital with impassive countenance.

Now, however, it was to be observed that the lines about his mouth

tightened, that his forehead contracted, while his eyes darted points of

fire.

"Do you want to investigate their alibis?" asked the coroner.

"No," snapped Britz.

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't necessary."

"Then you accept them?"

"Yes--without question."

"But if none of the accused was within miles of Whitmore's office on the

morning in question, how do you connect any of them with the actual

commission of the crime?"

Britz rose and took up a position at the side of the desk, where he

could see every fleeting emotion that might cross the faces of all the

others in the room. His form stiffened to military erectness, his face

took on the purposeful aspect of a man about to carry to fruition plans

which he had long nourished in secret. And as the others gazed on him,

the conviction forced itself on them that here was a man who would

pursue whatever course he had in mind, pitilessly, relentlessly, through

whatever wilderness of lies and deceit it might lead. A cold silence

fell on them, as if they had been suddenly chilled by the frigid

attitude of the detective.

"Coroner, the alibis which Mr. Luckstone presented are worthless," the

detective said in a subdued voice that nevertheless penetrated his

hearers like an icy wind.

"You mean they are manufactured?" blurted the coroner.

"No--they are true. But they have no bearing on the murder."

"What!" The coroner shot a searching glance at Britz. "If none of the

suspects was at Whitmore's office, how could any of them have killed

Whitmore?"

"Mr. Whitmore was not killed in his office," said Britz firmly. "He was

shot the night before."

The Substitute Prisoner · 第 21 / 24 章