Carlita was seated beside the window in her own apartment, her hands
folded listlessly over the folds of her white negligee gown, her head
resting against the back of her chair as if she suffered from physical
as well as mental exhaustion.
She seemed to have grown old in those few days. There were heavy lines
about her mouth, and under her eyes dark circles that gave her a
curious expression of dumb anguish. She had lost in flesh, until her
cheeks appeared hollow and gaunt.
She glanced up when the door opened suddenly; but there was neither
wonder nor interest in the look--scarcely even intelligence.
It was Jessica who had entered, and behind her was Edmond Stolliker,
the detective. Miss Chalmers went forward and leaned indolently against
the corner of the dressing-table, looking coldly at Carlita; but
Stolliker stopped short, scarcely believing his patroness to be the
same beautiful girl who had engaged him upon a murder case so short a
time before.
He was too good a detective, however, to allow his surprise long
expression, but listened with interest while Jessica said:
"Carlita, this is Mr. Stolliker, your detective. I told him that you
were ill, but he insisted upon seeing you, or delivering his message to
no one. Tell him he may speak out plainly in my presence."
The last sentence was almost a command and Stolliker saw the white,
almost transparent hands drawn closer together in the lap, the
colorless face showing a dawning interest, a strange light creeping
into the leaden eye.
"Miss de Barryos," he exclaimed, taking a step toward her and stooping
suddenly, "I very greatly regret that you are ill!"
"It is nothing," she returned, no trace of the old musical voice
noticeable in the hoarse, expressionless tones.
"I am sure what I have to tell you will aid in your recovery.
Everything that you most desired has been accomplished. Even before
the papers arrived bringing the affidavit of Manuel Meriaz, I had
an officer prepared to start at once, the only thing required being
the signature to our requests for extradition. We stopped over in
Washington and secured the consent of the Secretary of State; then I
returned here at once, while Carpano, the Mexican officer, with one of
the interpreters from our office, went on to Albany for the signature
of the governor. I expect him to return this evening. We shall make our
arrest as quickly as possible after the papers are in my possession.
Presumably, therefore, it will take place tonight, as Pierrepont will
be most liable to be found in his rooms at that time, and we want no
error now that we have succeeded so far."
Carlita did not speak. But for that curious, dull light in her eyes,
Stolliker might have doubted that she heard him at all. He waited for a
moment, then continued:
"With your permission, I will wait upon you tomorrow morning, after he
is in custody, to make a full and complete report before we return to
Mexico with our prisoner and Manuel Meriaz, the witness who is of such
vital value to us."
She merely inclined her head ever so slightly; and feeling more
uncomfortable than he had ever done under the most trying of
circumstances, Stolliker glanced toward Jessica.
He observed the smile of triumph and contempt which she could not
conceal.
"I think that is all, Miss Chalmers," he said, carelessly.
She led the way from the room; and as they were passing through the
hall, Stolliker caught sight of Ahbel, his niece. He made a quick deft
sign to her, which she answered simply by a glance.
"You say this arrest will be made tonight?" Jessica questioned, before
he left her.
"I think so."
"At what hour? You need not be afraid to trust me. I am absolutely in
the confidence of Miss de Barryos. She and I have sent the telegrams to
you together, and translated yours in return. I know the development of
this case step by step. Manuel Meriaz was an old friend of my father."
Stolliker bowed.
"It will be impossible for me to say the exact hour that the arrest
will be made," he returned. "The train from Albany is due about nine
o'clock. Good-afternoon, Miss Chalmers."
He left by the front door, but two minutes later was admitted
noiselessly by the servants' entrance.
"What's up?" he asked of Ahbel, when they were secure from interruption.
"I don't know," she returned. "I can't make out."
"Then you are a poor assistant for a detective. How long has Miss de
Barryos been ill?"
"Only a few days."
"What caused it?"
"She tripped over a stool in leaving Miss Chalmers' room and hurt her
head. She was unconscious for so long that the doctor feared concussion
of the brain; but she seems to have avoided that extremity, though she
is not in the least like herself. There are times when I think she has
lost her mind. She rarely ever speaks, but sits by the window doing
nothing, apparently not even thinking."
"Humph!" muttered Stolliker, remembering the suddenly dawning interest
in the sunken eyes.
"How long has this been going on?"
"It was a week ago yesterday that the accident happened."
"She and Miss Chalmers were great friends?"
"Yes; but what struck us all as strange was that Miss Chalmers did not
go near her when the accident happened, nor for two days afterward,
though it occurred in her room."
"Humph! Does Pierrepont come here now?"
"He has been here every day to inquire for Miss de Barryos, most days
twice."
"Who sees him?"
"Miss Chalmers."
Stolliker lifted his eyebrows slightly.
"How long does he remain?"
"Not long. He has seemed dreadfully depressed since Miss de Barryos'
illness."
"Is there anything else?"
"I don't think so."
"The whole case strikes me as a very singular one," said Stolliker,
musing. "My own opinion is that we shall have another one to ferret out
as soon as Pierrepont is safely off our hands. I want you to help me,
Ahbel. You think you can?"
"I can try."
"Keep your eyes on Miss Chalmers and notify me of everything she does.
If she enters Miss de Barryos' room, be sure you hear the conversation
that takes place, and send me a detailed account of it at once. I'll
have Tommy Ferris opposite. If you want him put that scarlet geranium
in the window and he will come at once. If there is anything that you
can do for Miss de Barryos, be sure you do it. My opinion is that she
is a prisoner in her own room."
"A prisoner?"
"Yes. Now that I have suggested the idea, is there anything you can
remember that would confirm the suspicion?"
"Yes, there is, but I should not have thought of it. Unless Miss
Chalmers is in her room the nurse never leaves, not for a single
moment. She even sleeps there at night and watches me when I am in the
room like a cat would watch a mouse. She even refused to allow me to go
in at all for a time."
"Ah! I thought so. Bide your time, and if you get a chance, go in
there when Miss de Barryos is alone. You might manufacture some excuse
for getting the woman out for a moment. My own opinion is that Miss
de Barryos is suffering from some terrible mental trouble, and this
apparent apathy is simply feigned to carry some point she has in view.
You must help to discover whether I am right, or whether her accident
and the worry over this case has caused the dreadful change in her.
Remember, I depend upon you."
"I will do what is possible, for her sake, I know she was in some
terrible trouble; but the night of the accident she seemed in better
spirits than for a long time."
Stolliker did not wait to hear more, but slipped out of the house as
noiselessly as he had entered, only pausing to whisper one sentence
into his niece's ear:
"Be sure you inform me of everything Miss Chalmers does."
She smiled without reply and closed the door upon him, then went slowly
upstairs, wondering how she was to obey his injunction and what there
would be to report. It was her first experience in detective work, and
she was naturally excited.