THE PLOT FOR MANY MILLIONS.
“You have told me nothing of the real relation of Ramon Orizaba to your
family, save that he was a distant cousin,” began Nick slowly, “and it
is not necessary, in order to carry out my theory, that you should do
so. The point is that he was a relation, however distant, and on your
mother’s side, since you have told me that she is of Spanish descent.”
“Correct. He was----”
“Never mind; we will call him a distant cousin. I think, Danton, if he
had shaved off his mustache and the pointed beard he wore, you would
have speedily discovered that there was a strong facial resemblance
between that man and your mother.”
“Oh, yes. She spoke of it often; and so, for that matter, did he.”
“As little as I saw of him, the resemblance was plain to me. Now there
was another person in that house who bore a striking resemblance to
Orizaba.”
“Do you mean my sister?”
“No. It was not noticeable in her case, I think, although the person
whom I am about to mention as looking like him also resembled your
sister. I mean Isabel Benton.”
“By Jove, you are right!”
“My theory tells me, in short, that Isabel Benton and Ramon Orizaba were
brother and sister.”
Benton whistled softly to himself.
“It goes still farther,” continued Nick. “We will say that the relation
between Orizaba and your mother did exist, in fact, and that thus far he
was not an impostor.”
“Yes.”
“Beginning at that point we must go back to the time when Orizaba first
discovered that the relationship existed, and that his American
relatives were rich. We will picture him as--what he doubtless was--a
sort of half-adventurer, half-gentleman, who lived by his wits, as he
did not cease to do after he made the acquaintance of your mother.
Discovering, we will say, that he was blessed with rich relatives in
America, he made himself known to them, and, by his adroitness, won
himself into a position of recognition. It appears, and quite plainly as
you know, that your mother and sister supplied him with an allowance out
of their own funds. Your sister did this to please her mother, and your
mother did it for the honor of her family--because he was a blood
relation, however distant, and she would not consent that he should
incur the contempt of her husband and son.”
“I guess that is about right, Nick.”
“The sums with which they supplied him were, however, not sufficient for
his needs, and, being aware of your proverbial carelessness in money
matters, he did not hesitate to forge an occasional check in your name.
This, I think your sister knew about; perhaps your mother also knew it.
It was the fear that he would repeat that act too often, and so be
discovered, which led your sister to give him more money, and often--for
I find through Sarah that she did so.
“Now--you have intimated, in the past, that Orizaba had the temerity to
make advances for the hand of Mercedes in marriage. That is the real
reason why you hated him, for, otherwise you would have liked him. You
have told me yourself that everybody did like him--that he had a way of
ingratiating himself into the good graces of everybody.”
“It is true, too.”
“Mercedes doubtless gave him to understand that there was no hope for
him in that direction, and so he turned his attention to another
matter--one that had presented itself to him from the first moment when
he met your sister, but one which he did not seriously consider until he
knew that there was no hope that she would ever consent to be his wife.
“But, then, he recalled the fact that he had a sister--and what is more
important, that the ties of blood had barked back as it will sometimes
strangely do, so that with a little assistance from the arts of dress
and of making-up, there was a resemblance between them sufficiently
marked so that under proper conditions one might readily pass for the
other. It remained, therefore, only necessary to bring about those
conditions.
“We will say that he communicated with his sister. That they met and the
whole plan and plot was outlined between them. That she was brought out
of obscurity somewhere, and, after some necessary coaching, was
introduced into your home in the capacity of maid to Mercedes. It was a
simple matter for her to dress so that the resemblance to her mistress
should be as little noticeable as possible. The very accomplishment she
wished to make use of later on was covered with every art she could
employ, so that it was hardly to be seen at all while she was in the
house, save at rare intervals. One of those rare intervals I know about,
as well as the fact that she delighted to practise in the part of
masquerading as Mercedes. Sarah surprised her once, dressed in your
sister’s clothing, and standing before a glass engaged in studying her
part, in character.
“Now, we have that much, and we will take a step backward again.
“After the murder of Orizaba, you know I went through his papers very
thoroughly. I found the story of the Nemesis, as you know, and Rogers’
letter developed the fact that he was that interesting character. But
here is a nice little point in the plot--or, rather, two very nice
points: Orizaba did not suspect that Rogers was the Nemesis who had been
pursuing him for so long a time, for the reason that Rogers was all the
time the husband of Orizaba’s sister, Isabel. Don’t you see?”
“Not quite. There are wheels within wheels there.”
“Very well, we will say that ten years ago Rogers took the trail of
Orizaba, intending to kill him. In pursuing him, he encountered Isabel,
the sister of his intended victim. He fell in love with Isabel, and
married her. Having done that, he posed thereafter as the fond
brother-in-law, while in reality he was the Nemesis who was bleeding
Orizaba all the while, and who had sworn some day to have his life. Why,
we do not know, and it does not matter; but that is why, try as he
might, Orizaba could never discover the identity of the man who pursued
him.
“Now, let us take another step backward. We will say that one day
Orizaba confided his plot to Rogers; that he told him of the strong
likeness between Mercedes Danton and Isabel. With their heads together,
it was an easy matter for those two men to work out the plot by which,
ultimately, they were together to enjoy all the millions that your own
father has amassed, and which one day are intended to be divided between
you and Mercedes. They were not working for one million, but for a
hundred millions. Think of it, Danton; it was a game worth playing, and
worthy of the brains they put into it.”
“By Jove, Nick! But how----”
“Wait. Rogers was introduced into your service as a valet, in order to
study the lay of the land, so to speak, before he would consent that his
wife should become involved. Later, his wife, Orizaba’s sister, the
woman whom we know as Isabel Benton, was brought forward as maid to
Mercedes. The mine was laid. It only remained for Isabel to study her
part until she had it learned to perfection, and then to fire the mine.”
“But, I say, Nick, you don’t mean to say that she believed she could
fool me--to say nothing of my father and mother--do you?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then how----”
“You, as well as your father and mother, were condemned to death.”
“Good Heaven!”
“With you three out of the way it would be an easy matter to deceive
others. When the little matter of the quarrel, which amounted to
nothing, occurred between you and Mercedes, Isabel overheard it,
doubtless, and as the time was ready to act, she acted. She had already
started her warfare against your mother. You say you thought your mother
was poisoned by something she had eaten. I have no doubt that she was,
only I have many doubts that it was accidental. The poison was somehow
administered by Isabel, and in getting your mother out of the house, she
did what she wanted to do; for she opened the opportunity for her own
disappearance, after which there were other ways in which you and your
mother were to be gotten rid of after some approved plan which offered
small chance of detection. Isabel was establishing an alibi for herself,
as well as for your pseudo sister. You would have had another Cadillac
needle jabbed into your back, on the street somewhere; your mother would
have been poisoned again while she is in Newport, and your father--well,
he may or he may not get home alive. Let us hope that he will; that the
time is not yet ripe to play their act upon him, and if our work
to-night is good, I hope we can prevent the further working of the plot
against you.
“Hush! Don’t interrupt me yet. There is absolutely nothing that we can
do to prevent the happening of the things I have mentioned, except what
we have elected to do to-night. Now let us take one more step backward.
“We will say that we are almost at the time for the culmination of the
plot. We will say that we can look in upon a reverie of Rogers wherein
he cogitates upon the mightiest stroke of all. He hates Orizaba. More
than that, he fears him. Still more, with Orizaba out of the way there
will be one less person to enjoy the millions of your father when they
shall have been won. Still more yet, there is a chance that by murdering
Orizaba, he can throw suspicion upon you, Danton, and this he decides to
do. That later he changed his mind on that point is one of the
psychological puzzles of the human mind. I won’t pretend to answer
that, unless it was the thought that he could still further divert
suspicion from himself in the final crimes, if, by chance, suspicion
should ever fall upon him. In putting Orizaba out of the way, Isabel was
both neutral and passive. There had never been affection between them,
nor did she delight in the thought that her brother would be master of
that future in which she wished to be the queen.
“There! That is the story I have woven from the somewhat tangled thread
provided by Sarah Kearney. Now I come down to the night of the
disappearance of Mercedes.
“Sarah put her to bed as usual, Saturday night. Sunday morning, Sarah
was sent away upon a cooked-up errand. When she returned, the baggage
had been taken from the house, and her mistress, as she supposed, was in
the act of driving away in the coupé. As a matter of fact, Reginald, it
was Isabel who was inside the coupé, posing as Mercedes, and it was a
woman who had been introduced into the house to do hemming on linen who
was acting the part of Isabel.”
“Where, then, was Mercedes?”
“I can only guess at the reply, but there is no doubt in my mind that
she had been drugged and taken secretly from the house during Saturday
night, and--I say, Danton, the registry down-stairs shows two maids.
What if one of those maids is your sister, still under the influence of
drugs? What if, after all, she is in that room across the hall?”