THE ARREST OF DR. JOHN EARL
Early the next morning Dr. John Earl was arrested for the murder of Emma
Bell and was remanded by the magistrate to The Tombs without bail to
await the action of the grand jury, which was soon to convene. Both he
and his family had foreseen the event, and he had made the necessary
arrangements for the conduct of his business. Humiliating as his arrest
was, they all bore it with Spartan courage, and prepared to ransack the
earth, if need be, to establish his innocence.
Leonora Kimball and her mother returned from Bar Harbor to find their
city friends almost unanimously arrayed against Dr. Earl, and they were
not themselves in the best humor with the tide of ill fortune that had
swept them into these muddy currents. They went immediately to The
Tombs, and in the interview that followed Dr. Earl insisted that Leonora
should consider herself released from her engagement so long as the
least taint was attached to his name in connection with this charge. She
protested that this was the hour of his need, and she could not think of
such a thing, but he caught the tone of doubt in her voice, and the lack
of genuine sympathy in her manner. There passed rapidly through his mind
the thought that the electric chair might be just ahead of him; a long
imprisonment might be his fate; he might lose the affection of friends
and the respect of strangers, but if in this hour of bitter ordeal,
guilty or innocent, whichever she might believe, his affianced wife did
not show supreme faith and devotion, he was indeed a beggar in the realm
of love. Carroll's ominous words about the malign stars that governed
her fate recurred to his mind, and he thought of his contest with
himself, and his decision when, defying the possibility of separation,
inharmony or divorce, he elected to keep his plighted troth whatever his
post-nuptial fate might be.
But in the recesses of his prison he had yearned for love, for the
divine, illuminating rays that had lighted the path of many a martyr to
the stake; of many a hero to the cannon's mouth; of not a few convicts
to the gallows; of many a sublime philosopher to the dungeon or the
ax--and all his misfortunes seemed but fleecy down compared to the
weight which this sense of isolation and aloofness from the tenderness
of the world brought to him. He looked at her fair young face, clouded
and troubled now with doubts and annoyance, and with a sinking heart he
realized that her personal vexation loomed as large upon the horizon of
her mind as the shame and danger that had overtaken him.
"For the present, dear, you are absolved from any obligation to me," he
said very gravely. "When I am released I shall, of course, give you the
opportunity to reconsider if you choose to do so, but in the meantime
you are entirely free; it must be so, dearest."
She made no reply, but lifted her face to his for their farewell kiss,
and her mother was not able to stifle her sigh of relief until they had
passed beyond the prison walls. As they left, Frank entered the room,
and the glance he cast after the departing form of the elder lady was
not exactly amiable, but he kept his peace.
"It is time, Jack, that you were thinking of somebody to take charge of
your case. You know I'm not familiar with criminal law, or the New York
practice; I'll do my best, but you must have a skilled lawyer in
command."
"I have already given the matter deep thought, but I have not made up my
mind. There's Littlefield, but hiring him or any other noted criminal
lawyer is equivalent to pleading guilty," answered Jack. "What do you
suggest?"
"I'm not in a position to make suggestions myself that are really
valuable," Frank replied, "and of the hundreds that have been made there
has been but one that really appealed to me. That came from my Colorado
friend--Miss Renner; but this is a matter where you must be the sole
judge, and I want you to make your own selection, regardless of any
other person's ideas."
"Miss Renner is a very keen woman," Jack said, a gleam of curiosity in
his manner. "I should like to hear her proposition; it is sure to be
original, anyhow."
Frank answered rather hesitatingly. "At first, I was enthusiastic about
it, but I fear you will not approve of trusting your life to a woman,
and I don't urge it in any way; Miss Renner wants us to employ Silvia
Holland."
"Miss Holland defend me? Will she--would she be willing to do it?" Jack
asked, in startled tones.
"Carroll Renner says she will," Frank answered, "and she is curiously
correct in her judgments of people, and they have been pretty close this
last summer."
Earl gave a sigh of relief. "Then by all means employ her at once," he
said. "I not trust my life to a woman? Dear Frank, when is there ever a
time when man does not trust his fate to woman? The infant owes his
existence to a woman; the boy would make sad progress in the world were
it not for the woman. The young man would drop back to barbarism but for
her, and where would you and I be but for that dear, sweet sister of
ours? Simply because the Twentieth Century woman is breaking away from
the old, destructive life of the parasite and endeavoring to fulfill her
destiny on earth, is no reason for believing that she does not still
possess all the noble qualities that have characterized her since the
world began. Not only have I no prejudices against, but a decided
partiality for a woman defender," and so the matter was settled.
Silvia went to consult with Earl every day that she was in the city,
and strongly advised against any attempt to secure bail, as sure to open
anew the charges and innuendoes which were already but dimly remembered
by the New York public. She took personal charge of every phase of the
case, and although Frank was associated with her he asked few questions
and she volunteered but little information. A week later she spent
several days in Boston and stopped at Providence on her way back, but
aside from telling his family where she had been she gave no intimation
either of her purposes or the results of her trip, and cautioned every
one to give nothing to the press.
"What did you do with the box of candied fruit you bought at Thompson's
candy store when you were in Boston?" she demanded of Dr. Earl at her
first interview after her return.
For a moment he looked dazed. "Box of candied fruit--I didn't buy
any--oh, yes; wait a minute. While at Magnolia, I wished to pay a visit
to some old friends who live in East Boston; they have a youngster in
the family, and I bought the candied fruit for her at the same time I
bought the pecans which I sent to Alice; but do you know, a curious
thing happened to that package of candied fruit. I put it on the seat
beside me while crossing the ferry, and then took up a magazine article
I was much interested in, and when I rose to leave the boat the package
was gone. I hadn't been conscious that any one was near enough to take
it, but there was a crowd on the boat, and my package disappeared;
naturally, I didn't mention it to my friends."
The look she bent upon him was full of perplexity. "Of course it can't
be traced," she said to herself. "Did the box have the name of the
store, or any name of a manufacturer or dealer upon it? Try and
remember," she said.
"Really, I cannot say; I didn't notice, except that the clerk wrapped it
in plain white paper," he replied.
"Were you in Providence on this trip, or have you been there recently?"
she continued.
"Not in four years," he answered and she gave an involuntary sigh of
relief.
"Have you expressed any annoyance to your medical friends over the
development of tuberculosis in the knee of little Alice Bell, or have
you stated that the case baffled you?" she asked with considerable
concern.
"Yes, I have said to at least two surgeons that I was annoyed at what I
believe to be the recurrence of an old condition, but never that I was
baffled. It is perfectly simple."
"How I wish I could find that letter," she said, more to herself than to
him. "The post-office department has ransacked the country for it, but it
seems to have disappeared as completely as did your package on the boat.
I do wish I could clear up two or three things to my own satisfaction,
but you can't help me, and there is no need of annoying you with them."
She looked about the small room set aside for the consultation of
prisoners with their counsel, but gained no inspiration from the bare
walls, and rose to go, extending her hand as she did so.
"You do believe in my innocence?" he asked.
She gave no direct answer in words, but as her eyes met his he knew that
he was no longer alone in his struggles, and whatever her belief in the
merits of his case, her faith in him was supreme.
"It is not a question of what I believe," she said at last, "but of what
the State can prove on the one hand, and what we shall be able to show
on the other."
"You are worried," he said quickly.
"Yes," she said, "I am; your life may be at stake, and if I fail to
clear you every one in the country will say that I should never have
taken this case, and they will be right. Even now, Dr. Earl, are you
certain it would not be better to employ counsel eminent in this branch
of the profession? I shall be very glad to serve in second place."
"This is no time for flattery or false sentiment, and I shall attempt
neither," he said, "as you know, I prefer thorough methods in all
professions, and those methods require rather more of the psychological
than the usual practitioner employs. I think we are quite agreed in
that. For that and other ample reasons I prefer to leave my case just
where it is."
The look that the blue eyes flashed up to the brown ones was pleased and
proud, and something that she saw there sent a quick flush to her cheek,
and though her heart was heavy her step was light as she left the gloomy
building.
Her car was waiting at the door, and calmly seated therein was Carroll
Renner. Silvia greeted her eagerly. "Of all persons on earth you are the
one I was most wishing to see," she said. "How did you happen to come
here?"
"I got your telepathy, Silvia, dear," she answered, with a squeeze of
the hand, "when on mischief bent about three blocks from here, and
decided to come by this cheerful edifice on the chance that you might be
here. I saw the car, introduced myself to your chauffeur and climbed in.
I must say," she added, "that you were an unconscionable time. Now, what
can I do for you?"
"Let's go and have luncheon somewhere," answered Silvia, "and I'll tell
you all about it."
"No," said the newspaper woman, "I have to interview a Mrs. Somebody or
other who has just come to town to teach us how to connect our trolleys
with psychic wires, or our subliminal minds with ethereal vibrations.
She's stopping at the Buckingham, and if you want to take me out there
I'll be glad of the lift, for I'm short on time, and we can talk on the
way."
"Surely, I'll take you gladly," Silvia answered, giving the directions
to the chauffeur, "and since I've wasted so much of your afternoon, I'll
send back for you, and have you taken to the office if you're going
there, or to your own hotel, unless you'll come and dine with me; I'm
alone to-night."
"Thank you," Miss Renner answered; "I would be glad to get back home,
for I've a wretched headache; not that I'm particularly comfortable
there, for it's been abominably warm the last few days."
Silvia gave a sigh of relief. "Has it? Well, that makes it easier for me
to ask a favor of you. But first tell me, Carroll, are you
timid--nervous?"
"Do you mean am I given to 'seein' things at night'?" Carroll asked. "I
don't know how it will be after I have my seance with Mrs. Whoever-it-is
I'm going to see, but when I'm reasonably abstemious I'm not given to
ingrowing nerves. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to go and live in what was Mrs. Bell's home. I had paid the
rent for her up to the end of October, and after her death I took charge
of the place. Of course, I couldn't send Alice back there, but I went
and got her clothes and toys and I've been there a number of times. I
had a new lock put on, and have taken a maid there and kept it in order,
so all you'll have to do will be to send up your trunk."
"Certainly I'll go," Carroll answered soberly, "but what do you expect
to gain by it? Of course you have a motive."
"Yes," answered the other woman, "I have, but it isn't the sort of thing
one can speak of, except in the closest confidence. I haven't mentioned
it even to Frank Earl, whose interest in this case is at least as great
as mine, and you mustn't. I haven't been practicing law so very long,
but I've heard that all lawyers, who are really worth while, are
superstitious about talking over a case before it goes to trial. They
don't tell their clients more than a bare outline, and I believe it is
true, for surely I've found myself more fanciful than I ever was before.
The day before Mrs. Bell was found dead in her room she wrote to Alice;
it was a very short letter, and she excused herself by saying that she
was very tired, having written me a long letter. Naturally, Alice showed
me the letter, and I remarked at the time that it was strange mine
hadn't come by the same mail. Then after the tragedy it slipped my mind
for a day or so, and when I made inquiries it had not been received, or
if it had, the servants said it was forwarded to me here. I made more
inquiries, but nothing could be found in my office, though there was a
bunch of mail from Nutwood. The longer I thought of it the more anxious
I became to find that letter, and when I was employed in this case it
seemed to me absolutely imperative that I should do so. I have seen all
the postal authorities here who could have any knowledge of the letter,
or its possible disposition, and have written to Washington, but all in
vain. I am sure it would clear up several matters that are troubling me
greatly."
"Couldn't the letter have been returned to Mrs. Bell's apartment,
through some error in the address? She would not have mailed an
important letter without the return address," said Carroll practically.
"That was my idea exactly, so when it didn't come I looked for it there;
several letters addressed to her had been delivered, but there was no
sign of this one. Now, I can't tell why, but I feel as if I want
somebody in that house. Was there ever anything more utterly
unreasonable than that? I wouldn't dare tell any one but you; I can't
explain it, but neither can I rid myself of the feeling, and I was going
to seek you, to ask if you will undertake this for me. All I want is
that you shall put in whatever time you spend in your own apartment
there. Nothing may come of it, but you have no idea what a relief it
will be to me if you will not be too much inconvenienced, and you have
no dread of the rather morbid associations."
"I'll do it," Carroll answered. "There are too many other people in the
building for me to be afraid of anything alive, and as for the
dead--well, I shouldn't be afraid of her either. I can't tell you why,
but I believe this is a good move." She gave a little shiver. "I hope
the new lock is a strong one, Silvia; I should hate to have the murderer
come back to the scene of his crime."