Nealman was of course the most important witness. Further testimony was
really only in corroboration of his. The coroner called on Marten next.
This man spoke bluntly, answering all questions in a vigorous, rather
masterful voice. Financier, he said simply, in answer to the question as
to his occupation.
"You were with Mr. Nealman when you heard Florey's scream?"
"Yes."
"Who else was there?"
"Mr. Van Hope and Mr. Killdare."
"Do you know the exact location of any other of the guests at the time
of the murder?"
"No, not exactly. They were all in rooms adjoining the living-room."
"You're sure of that?"
"Practically sure. They came in and out every few minutes."
"Did you have any previous acquaintance with the dead man?"
"None whatever."
In reply to the coroner's questions, he testified as to the finding of
the body, the nature of the scream we had heard and gave a similar
report as to the appearance of the wound. He had observed no suspicious
actions on the part of any one.
"You led the search, I believe, through the gardens?"
"Yes."
"You were the one man that was armed. May I ask how you happened to have
a pistol in the pocket of dinner clothes?"
"I was held up, once," Marten replied straightforwardly. "Several years
ago. I've carried a pistol ever since."
The coroner nodded. "Did your party stay together in searching the
gardens, or did they scatter out?" he asked.
"We scattered out. We couldn't have hoped to find any one if we had
stayed together. We called back and forth, however."
"You kept track of one another all the time?"
"I can't say that. The gardens and grounds are large and full of
shrubbery."
"The search lasted--how long?"
"Only a few minutes."
The coroner dismissed him at this point, calling on Mr. Van Hope. The
latter told of his long acquaintance with Nealman, and verified in every
detail the story that his friend had told.
"And where were you, Mr. Dell, when the scream was heard?" the coroner
asked.
"In the library," was the reply. Major Dell spoke evenly, but his keen,
flushed face showed that he was taking the most keen and lively interest
in the proceedings.
"Why weren't you with the others in the party?"
"We were all running all over the house. I was trying to find Mr.
Nealman's copy of Jordan's work on fish. Fargo and I had got into an
argument about black bass."
"Mr. Fargo was not with you at the time?"
"I was alone. I had left Mr. Fargo at the billiard table."
Weldon's voice changed in tone. "And how did the argument come out, may
I ask."
Major Dell smiled dryly. "It isn't concluded yet," he said.
The coroner paused, then took a new tack. "You heard the sound
distinctly?"
"Distinctly, but probably not so clearly as Mr. Nealman heard it. The
library is back of the lounging-room."
"Then what did you do?"
"I ran outside. I joined Nealman and some of the other guests on the
grounds, and went down with them to investigate."
"You took part in the hunt through the grounds?"
"Yes. I beat back and forth with the rest."
"And saw or heard nothing suspicious?"
"Something moved in the shrubbery, but we couldn't locate it. Nealman
thought afterward it was a raccoon or some other small animal."
"You knew Mr. Florey?"
"I had never set eyes upon him before."
"You've had long acquaintance with Mr. Nealman, however?"
Major Dell hesitated, just an instant. "No. I had never met Mr. Nealman
until last night."
The coroner's interest quickened. "You didn't? How did you happen to be
included among his guests?"
"I was a great friend of his friend, Mr. Van Hope. I was invited through
his kindness. He wanted me to have a taste of shooting and fishing."
"What is your occupation, Mr. Dell?"
"I am interested in finance, in a modest way."
"You saw, heard or knew of nothing connected with this murder that you
haven't testified."
"No." Dell paused, considering. "Nothing, I'm sure."
"I say 'murder.' Testimony has gone to show that Florey was dead, not
just severely wounded, when you and the others reached his side. Mr.
Dell, do you think there is any possibility that life remained in his
body when you saw him beside the inlet?"
Dell spoke clearly. "None whatever," he said.
"You speak very sure."
"I am sure. I've seen too many dead men ever to make a mistake. The
position of the body, the features--everything told it as plain as day."
The coroner leaned forward. His eyes gleamed. "And where and how did you
happen to see all these dead men, may I ask?"
There was an instant's second of strain throughout the room. All of us,
I think, were siding with Major Dell--from the sheer instinctive
distrust of constituted authority that seems to be implanted in our
bodies at birth. Dell looked down, and his face was gray.
"In the Argonne," he said, quietly. The room was deathly still.
Fargo, called immediately after, testified as to his argument with Dell
as to the nature of black bass. Dell had left him, he said, to go into
the library.
"You were alone in the billiard room when you heard the cry?"
"Yes. But I ran outdoors and joined the others."
Van Hope testified as to his acquaintance with Major Dell, saying that
they had known each other for several months, and that Dell belonged to
one of his clubs. He verified Nealman's story perfectly.
"And what is your occupation, Mr. Pescini?" the coroner asked.
"I am in the publishing business, in New York."
"You have a long acquaintance with Mr. Nealman?"
"Something over four years."
"Where were you when you heard David Florey scream?"
"On the veranda."
"Alone?"
"Yes, alone. I had been with Mr. Van Hope and Nealman a few moments
before. I was rather hot, and I went out on the veranda for a breath of
air. I rushed out toward the sound, and Nealman and his party caught up
with me."
He testified that he had taken part in the search, and was utterly
baffled as to the solution of the mystery.
Nopp was in the music room, he said, looking for a certain record that
he wished his friends to hear. He had been in the billiard room a few
seconds before. He had heard the cry but faintly, and had not been
especially alarmed. The shouts of the other guests, he said, rather than
the scream of the dying man, had caused him to rush out and join in the
investigation. He had known Nealman a long time, was an architect by
profession, and had been one of those to partake in the hunt through the
gardens.
Last of all the white men, he called on me. I told of my relations with
Nealman, the work I had been hired to do and, my own reactions to the
fearful scream in the darkness. I had been with Marten, Van Hope and
Nealman and had sent through the calls to Ochakee.
"You saw or heard nothing beyond that which these other gentlemen have
testified?"
"Nothing at all," I answered.
"You have made no subsequent discoveries?"
Just for a moment I was silent, conjecturing what my answer should be.
Was I to tell of the cryptogram I had found beside the body, and its
theft during the night?
I couldn't see how the least good would come of it. Indeed, if last
night's intruder was in the room, listening to my testimony, he would be
very glad to know if I had discovered the theft. I had resolved to work
out the case in my own way, employing the methods of a naturalist, and
these agents of the law were not my allies.
"Nothing has come to my observation," I told him simply.
If he had pressed the matter he might have got the admission out of me;
but fortunately he turned to other subjects.
There was quite a little stir of interest throughout the circle when he
began to question Edith. None of us will forget the picture of that
golden head, graced by the sunlight slanting through the leaded panes of
the window, the flushed, lovely face, the frank eyes and the girlish
figure, lost in the big chair. She was in such contrast to the rest of
us. Except for the housekeeper, buxom and fifty, she was the only white
woman present; and she could have been the daughter of any one of the
gray men in the circle.
She had gone to her room about ten, she said, and had read for perhaps
an hour. Her room was just over the front hall. About eleven she went to
bed, and the coroner's questions brought out the interesting fact that
seemingly she had been the last of the household--unless the murderer
himself was to be included thus--to have seen Florey alive. Her bed
stood just beside the front window, and just before she had retired she
had seen him walking out toward the lagoon.
The whole circle, tired of the dull testimony of the past hour, leaned
forward in rapt attention. "He was alone?" the coroner asked.
"Yes. I think I heard the door close behind him--I'm not sure. Then I
saw his form in the moonlight on the front lawn."
"You recognized him at once?"
"Not at once. I thought perhaps it was one of the guests. But in a
bright patch of moonlight I saw him plain."
"Where did he go?"
"He turned down the driveway toward the lagoon. I didn't see him again."
At the sound of the piercing scream she got up and put on a
dressing-gown, but she did not come down at once. She was afraid, she
said--she didn't know what to do. She had no knowledge as to the
activities and the positions of the other members of the household at
the time of the crime.
She had come to work as her uncle's secretary but a few weeks before;
and she verified perfectly Nealman's testimony in regard to the dead
servant. If he had had enemies in the household she had not been aware
of it, she knew of no chronic malady, and she did not think that he
carried any large amount of money on his person. The scream had seemed
to her to be one of unfathomable fear.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Gentry, was the last of the white people to be
called upon; and her testimony threw no new light upon the problem. She
was in bed and asleep, and the shouts of the men without had wakened
her.
The coroner called on the negroes in turn, and I was a little amazed
at the ease with which he wrung their testimony out of them. He knew
these dark people: no northern man could have hoped to have been so
successful. Sometimes he shouted at them as if in fury, sometimes he
wheedled or jested with them.
Not one of them but could prove an alibi. They were all in their own
quarters, they said, at the moment of the tragedy. Because this was the
South and they were black, they did not know Florey, a white man, very
well. And they had all been frightened nearly out of their wits by the
events of the night.
One by one he questioned them, but the inquest ended just as it
began--with the affair of Florey's murder as great a mystery as ever.
At the end of the fatiguing afternoon we were face to face with the
baffling fact that only four men had proven satisfactory alibis--Lemuel
Marten, Van Hope, Nealman and myself--and that any one of the dozen or
more men and women in that great, rambling house might have done the
deed.