THE TRUTH IN PART
The chief dropped back into his chair with the utmost complacency.
This was not the kind of man with whom mere bluster counted.
"Haney says Saturday morning," he answered. "The coroner's physician
agrees with that."
"Yesterday morning," Mr. Wynne mused; then, after a moment: "I think,
Chief, you know Mr. Birnes here? And that you would accept a
statement of his as correct?"
"Yes," the chief agreed with a glance at Mr. Birnes.
"Mr. Birnes, where was I all day Saturday?" Mr. Wynne queried,
without so much as looking around at him.
"You were in your house from eleven o'clock Friday night until fifteen
minutes of nine o'clock Saturday morning," was the response. "You left
there at that time, and took the surface car at Thirty-fourth Street
to your office. You left your office at five minutes of one, took
luncheon alone at the Savarin, and returned to your office at two
o'clock. You remained there until five, or a few minutes past, then
returned home. At eight you--"
"Is that sufficient?" interrupted Mr. Wynne. "Does that constitute
an alibi?"
"Yes," he admitted; "but how do you know all this, Birnes?"
"Mr. Birnes and the men of his agency have favored me with the most
persistent attentions during the last few days," Mr. Wynne continued
promptly. "He has had two men constantly on watch at my office, day
and night, and two others constantly on watch at my home, day and
night. There are two there now--one in a rear room of the basement,
and another in the pantry, with the doors locked on the outside.
Their names are Claflin and Sutton!"
So, that was it! It came home to Mr. Birnes suddenly. Claflin and
Sutton had been tricked into the house on some pretext, and locked
in! Confound their stupidity!
"Why are they locked up?" demanded the chief, with kindling interest.
"Why have you been watched?"
"I think, perhaps, Mr. Birnes will agree with me when I say that that
has nothing whatever to do with this crime," replied Mr. Wynne
easily.
"That's for me to decide," declared the chief bluntly.
There was a long pause. Mr. Czenki was leaning forward in his chair,
gripping the arms fiercely, with his lips pressed into a thin line.
It was only by a supreme effort that he held himself in control; and
the lean, scarred face was working strangely.
"Well, if you insist on knowing," observed Mr. Wynne slowly, "I
suppose I'll have to tell all of it. In the first place--"
"_Don't!_" It came finally, the one word, from Mr. Czenki's half-closed
lips, a smothered explosion which drew every eye upon him.
Mr. Wynne turned slightly in his chair and regarded the diamond
expert with an expression of astonishment on his face. The beady
black eyes were all aglitter with the effort of repression, and
some intangible message flashed in them.
"In the first place," resumed Mr. Wynne, as if there had been no
interruption, "Mr. Kellner here--"
"Don't!" the expert burst out again desperately. "Don't! It means
ruin--absolute ruin!"
"Mr. Kellner had those diamonds--about sixty thousand dollars' worth
of them," Mr. Wynne continued distinctly. "Mr. Kellner decided to
sell some diamonds. One of the quickest and most satisfactory
methods of selling rough gems, such as those you have in your hand,
Chief, is to offer them directly to the men who deal in them. I went
to Mr. Henry Latham, and other jewelers of New York, on behalf of
Mr. Kellner, and offered them a quantity of diamonds. It may be that
they regarded the quantity I offered as unusual; that I don't know,
but I would venture the conjecture that they did."
He paused a moment. Mr. Czenki's face, again growing expressionless,
was turned toward the light of the window; Chief Arkwright was
studying it shrewdly.
"Diamond merchants, of course, have to be careful," the young man
went on smoothly. "They can't afford to buy whatever is offered by
people whom they don't know. They had reason, too, to believe that I
was not acting for myself alone. What was more natural, therefore,
than that they should have called in Mr. Birnes, and the men of his
agency, to find out about me, and, if possible, to find out whom I
represented, so they might locate the supply? I wouldn't tell them,
because it was not desirable that they should deal directly with Mr.
Kellner, who was old and childish, and lacking, perhaps, in
appreciation of the real value of diamonds.
"The result of all this was that the diamond dealers placed me under
strict surveillance. My house was watched; my office was watched.
My mail going and coming, was subjected to scrutiny; my telephone
calls were traced; telegrams opened and read. I had anticipated all
this, of course, and was in communication with Mr. Kellner here only
by carrier-pigeons." He glanced meaningly at Mr. Birnes, who was
utterly absorbed in the recital. "Those carrier-pigeons were not
exchanged by express, because the records would have furnished a
clew to Mr. Birnes' men; I personally took them back and forth in a
suitcase before I approached Mr. Latham with the original
proposition."
He was giving categorical answers to a few of the multitude of
questions to which Mr. Birnes had been seeking answers. The tense
expression about Mr. Czenki's eyes was dissipated, and he sighed
a little.
"I saw the Red Haney affair in the newspapers this morning, as you
will know," he continued after a moment. "It was desirable that I
should come here with Miss Kellner, but it was not desirable, even
under those circumstances, that I should permit myself to be
followed. That's how it happens that Mr. Claflin and Mr. Sutton are
now locked up in my house." Again there was a pause. "Mr. Birnes, I
know, will be glad to confirm my statement of the case in so far as
his instructions from Mr. Latham and the other gentlemen interested
bear on it?"
Chief Arkwright glanced at the detective inquiringly.
"That's right," Mr. Birnes admitted with an uncertain nod--"that is,
so far as my instructions go. I understood, though, that the
diamonds were worth more than sixty thousand dollars; in fact, that
there might have been a million dollars' worth of them."
"A million dollars!" repeated Chief Arkwright in amazement. "A
million dollars!" he repeated. He turned fiercely upon Mr. Wynne.
"What about that?" he demanded.
"I'm sure I don't know what Mr. Birnes _understood_," replied the
young man, with marked emphasis. "But it's preposterous on the face
of it, isn't it? Would a man with a million dollars' worth of
diamonds live in a hovel like this?"
The chief considered the matter reflectively for a minute or more,
the while his keen eyes alternately searched the faces of Mr. Wynne
and Mr. Czenki.
"It would depend on the man, of course," he said at last. And then
some new idea was born within him. "Your direct connection with the
crime seems to be disproved, Mr. Wynne," he remarked slowly; "and if
we admit _his_ innocence," he jerked a thumb at the expert, "there
remains yet another view-point. Do you see it?"
The young man turned upon him quickly.
"Does it occur to you that every argument I advanced to furnish you
with a motive for the crime might be applied with equal weight
against--against Miss Kellner?"
"Doris!" flamed Mr. Wynne. For the first time his perfect
self-possession deserted him, and he came to his feet with gripping
hands. "Why--why--! What are you talking about?"
"Sit down," advised the chief quietly.
Mr. Czenki glanced at them once uneasily, then resumed his fixed stare
out of the window.
"Sit down," said the chief again.
Mr. Wynne glared at him for an instant, then dropped back into his
chair. His hands were clenched desperately, and a slight flush in his
clean-cut face showed the fight he was making to restrain himself.
"All the property this old man owned, including the diamonds, would
become her property in the event of his death--or murder," the chief
added mercilessly. "That's true, isn't it?"
"But when she entered this room her every act testified to her
innocence," Mr. Wynne burst out passionately.
The chief shrugged his shoulders.
"She has been living at a little hotel in Irving Place," the young
man rushed on. "The people there can satisfy you as to her
whereabouts on Saturday?"
Again the chief shrugged his shoulders.
"And remember, please, that the best answer to all that is that Haney
had the diamonds!"
"It doesn't necessarily follow, Mr. Wynne," said the other steadily,
"that she committed the crime with her own hands. It comes down
simply to this: If there were _only_ sixty thousand dollars' worth of
diamonds then the one motive which Czenki might have had is
eliminated; because Haney had practically fifty thousand dollars'
worth of them, and here are some others. There would have been no
share for your expert here. And again, if there were only sixty
thousand dollars' worth of the diamonds you or Miss Kellner would
have been the only persons to benefit by this death."
"But Haney had those!" protested Mr. Wynne.
"Just what I'm saying," agreed the other complacently. "Therefore
there _were_ more than sixty thousand dollars' worth. However we
look at it, whoever may have been Haney's accomplice, that point
seems settled."
"Or else Haney lied," declared Mr. Wynne flatly. "If Haney came here
alone, killed this old man and stole the diamonds there would be none
of these questions, would there?"
Mr. Birnes, who had listened silently, arose suddenly and left the
room. Mr. Wynne's last suggestion awakened a new train of thought
in the police official's mind, and he considered it silently for a
moment. Finally he shook his head.
"The fact remains," he said, as if reassuring himself, "that Haney
described an accomplice, that that description fits Czenki perfectly,
that Czenki has refused to defend himself or even make a denial; that
he has drawn suspicion upon himself by everything he has done and
said since he has been here, even by the strange manner of his
appearance at this house. Therefore, there were more diamonds, and
he got his share of them."
"Hello!" came in Mr. Birnes' voice from the hall. "Give me 21845
River, New York. . . . Yes. . . . Is Mr. Latham there? . . . Yes,
Henry Latham . . . ."
Again Mr. Wynne's self-possession forsook him, and he came to his
feet, evidently with the intention of interrupting that conversation.
He started forward, with gritting teeth, and simultaneously Chief
Arkwright, Detective-Sergeant Connelly and Mr. Czenki laid
restraining hands upon him. Something in the expert's grip on his
wrist caused him to stop and cease a futile struggle; then came a
singular expression of resignation about the mouth and he sat down
again.
"Hello! This Mr. Latham! . . . . This is Detective Birnes. . . .
I've been able to locate some diamonds, but it's necessary to know
something of the quantity of those you mentioned. You remember Mr.
Schultze said something about . . . . Yes. . . . Yes. . . . Oh, there
_were?_ . . Unexpected developments, yes. . . . I'll call and see
you to-night about eight. . . . Yes. . . . Good-by!"
Mr. Birnes reentered the room, his face aglow with triumph. Mr.
Wynne glanced almost hopelessly at Mr. Czenki, then turned again to
the detective.
"I should say there _were_ more than sixty thousand dollars' worth of
them," Mr. Birnes blurted. "There were at least a million dollars'
worth. Mr. Schultze intimated as much to me; now Mr. Latham confirms
it."
Chief Arkwright turned and glared scowlingly upon the diamond expert.
The beady black eyes were alight with some emotion which he failed to
read.
"Where are they, Czenki?" demanded the chief harshly.
"I have nothing to say," replied Mr. Czenki softly.
"So your disappearance Friday night, and your absence all day
yesterday did have to do with this old man's death?" said the chief,
directly accusing him.
"I have nothing to say," murmured Mr. Czenki.
"That settles it, gentlemen," declared the chief with an air of
finality. "Czenki, I charge you with the murder of Mr. Kellner here.
Anything you may say will be used against you. Come along, now;
don't make any trouble."