Beard began to speak, but the tremor of overmastering excitement in his
voice, made his words indistinct, incomprehensible. Not until he had
proceeded for several minutes did he regain control of his voice, and
then he had to repeat what in his agitation he had but half-uttered.
"I met Mr. Whitmore when he left the train at Philadelphia after the
substitution of prisoners had been achieved," Beard said. "We proceeded
to New York, arriving here about three in the afternoon. I knew that
Ward and Mrs. Collins were extremely anxious to see Mr. Whitmore, and he
likewise was aware of it. So I telephoned Mrs. Collins and her brother
to come to my home.
"As a precautionary measure, Mr. Whitmore had decided to stay at my
house until the mustache which he had shaved off was restored to his
lip. He thought it best not to appear in the streets as there was grave
danger of meeting one of the officials with whom he had come in contact
after his arrest.
"Evidently Collins was at home when Mrs. Collins received my message
asking her to come to my house. She and Ward arrived there about five
o'clock. It was already dark and I switched on the electric lights.
"They met Mr. Whitmore in the library. The greetings were most cordial.
Then Ward began to recite his business troubles. He had proceeded only a
few minutes when the door-bell rang. I responded and Collins forced his
way into the house. Hearing voices in the library upstairs, he darted up
the steps and burst in on Mr. Whitmore. Collins had been drinking--just
enough to make him ugly. As I entered the room I heard him up-braiding
Mr. Whitmore and with each word he grew more excited. Finally he called
Mr. Whitmore a vile name. Then Mr. Whitmore opened up on Collins.
"'You cur!' Mr. Whitmore shouted. 'You've been unfaithful to your
wife--you betrayed the other woman! You lied to both of them! You made
the other woman believe you intended to marry her, and made her your
mistress! She's been your mistress over three years now, pleading and
imploring that you keep your promise. You've wrecked two lives and now
you have the hardihood to come here and accuse your wife--why, you're so
low and vile and worthless--'
"'Cut that out!' Collins broke in. 'I want an explanation of this
letter!'
"Collins waved the letter which he had intercepted, but Mr. Whitmore
tried to dismiss him with a shrug of disgust. Finally Collins repeated
the vile epithet which he had called my employer. Then he hurled another
epithet at his wife. That enraged Mr. Whitmore and he leaped for
Collins. Collins jumped back and whipped out a pistol. At the same
instant Ward hurled himself at Collins. In order to prevent a tragedy I
switched out the light. There was a short scuffle in the darkness, then
a shot rang out. I heard Mr. Whitmore groan.
"Instantly I switched on the light. Mr. Whitmore was leaning against a
table, one hand pressed against his abdomen. Collins was cowering
against the opposite wall.
"The pistol was in Ward's hand."
Beard paused, overcome by the crushing pain of the memories that crowded
on his brain. The fact that all but one of the participants in the
tragedy were present now, made the anguish all the more acute.
"I helped Mr. Whitmore into a chair," Beard proceeded in a sobbing
voice. "And I heard him say, 'Well, I guess I'm done for!'
"Mrs. Collins then came over and threw her arms about his neck, kissing
him and imploring him not to die. Ward joined the group, and with tears
running down his cheeks, said:
"'I fired the shot. But I meant to kill that dog'--pointing to Collins.
'I meant to avenge the insult to my sister. I hope the wound won't prove
serious.'
"There is no doubt that Ward had wrenched the pistol out of Collins's
hand and meant to kill him. But Mr. Whitmore also had tried to get the
weapon. And in the darkness there was a mix-up in which Collins managed
to slip away after he lost the weapon. When Ward fired, the bullet
struck Whitmore. That is the truth of the matter," Beard added
imploringly.
Mrs. Collins had buried her face in her handkerchief. She was sobbing
convulsively. Miss Burden also was crying, but silently. The coroner and
the police officials had hung breathlessly on each word uttered by
Beard. Everything he said had carried conviction. His manner was
straightforward and he had the bearing of a man deeply moved but
striving furiously to retain his self-control.
"What occurred after that, Lieutenant Britz has guessed pretty
accurately," Beard continued in a voice of diminishing strength. "I sent
for Mr. Whitmore's personal physician. He dressed the wound and told Mr.
Whitmore he could not live more than forty-eight hours. Mr. Whitmore had
remained conscious all the time, and when he learned there was no hope
for him, he showed the most remarkable self-possession I have ever seen
a human being display.
"'We must hide the scandal!' he said. 'The doctor will remain with me. I
want all you folks to go home and act as if nothing had occurred.
To-night, I want you to go to the opera--all of you.'
"Mrs. Collins and Ward protested but Mr. Whitmore insisted that he be
obeyed to the letter. And he sent me home with the Collinses and Mr.
Ward to see that his orders were carried out.
"Oh, it was a delightful opera party that night!" A wan smile appeared
on Beard's face at the recollection of it. "While we were gone Mr.
Whitmore consulted with Mr. Luckstone. I have no personal knowledge of
what transpired between them, but I presume that Mr. Luckstone outlined
the plan which was subsequently followed and by which it was meant to
establish an alibi for everyone present at the shooting.
"At any rate, Mr. Whitmore appeared in our box at the opera toward the
end of the performance. He must have been suffering terribly, but he hid
his sufferings from us. While I didn't know it then, I know now that he
appeared at the opera in order to make it seem that he must have been
shot sometime after he parted from us.
"I believe the doctor remained with him all night. In anticipation of
Mr. Whitmore's homecoming I had sent the servant away. We had deemed it
best that no one, except Mrs. Collins and Ward, should see him when he
arrived. It was at Mr. Whitmore's request that I spent the night at Mr.
Ward's house and the following morning Mr. Luckstone telephoned
instructions to us.
"The fact that Mr. Whitmore took a pistol to the office with him leaves
no doubt that he meant to make it appear he had committed suicide. He
was a man of enormous vitality, but I suppose that once the spleen has
been punctured it is only a question of hours when the strongest man
must die! But I only surmise Mr. Whitmore's intentions from the facts of
the case, for I never saw him alive after I left him in front of the
opera house."
Beard sat down, wearied and worn from the strain of his recital. Miss
Burden joined him and pressed a hand against his cheek. She did not
repel the arm he slipped about her waist.
[Illustration: She did not repel the arm he put around her waist]
Now that Beard had finished, everyone experienced a welcome sense of
relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off their minds.
"I've come across many cases of wonderful nerve, but nothing to equal
the pluck of that man Whitmore!" exclaimed Manning, unable to contain
his growing admiration for the dead merchant.
"And he was one of the mildest-mannered men I ever met!" joined Beard.
The coroner, who had been making notes, now looked up at Britz. The
detective's face had relaxed into an expression of mingled pity and
contentment. Through the sorrow which the suffering of Mrs. Collins
aroused in him, shone the satisfaction which he could not but feel at
having finally squeezed all the mystery out of the Whitmore case.
"You believe Mr. Beard's statement, don't you?" the coroner inquired.
"I do."
"Then let us end this harrowing scene. I suppose my first duty is to
discharge Mrs. Collins from custody?"
"There is no longer any reason for holding her," said Britz.
"As for Ward, I shall have to hold him for the formal inquest," the
coroner announced.
"I don't believe he'll try to evade us," said Britz. "In view of all the
circumstances I believe we're justified in permitting him to go on his
own recognizance. Since Mr. Beard's story will undoubtedly be
substantiated by the others, Ward's acquittal is a foregone conclusion.
How soon can you hold the inquest?"
"I can impanel a coroner's jury to-morrow. But why this hurry?"
Britz shot a significant glance at Beard and Miss Burden. The
secretary's arm was still about her waist.
"Beard, you'd better take out a marriage license at once," suggested
Britz. "We're going to hold the inquest in this case to-morrow. You'll
be called as the first witness and we'll finish with you as quickly as
we can. There's a boat for Europe at two o'clock--it might be well for
you and your bride to make it. You might as well be abroad while I
wrestle with the Federal authorities to make them forget the
substitution of prisoners."