THE TAKING OFF OF DR. MORSE
As it happened, Ashton-Kirk was too late to get the train which he had
mentioned. The next did not leave until 7:30; and even this was delayed
on the way, so that it was rather an unusual hour when they stepped into
the motor car which the waiting Dixon held ready for them.
The mean street, with its high smells and grimy buildings, was strangely
quiet; the venders' carts, along the curb, were empty; the stands were
shrouded, and the stores dim-looking. As the automobile stopped before
the secret agent's door, a bell in a neighboring tower struck one.
"Hello," cried Fuller, "what's Stumph doing?"
The hall door stood open to the fullest extent; the light was switched
on, and beneath it stood Stumph with a roughly-dressed man whom
Ashton-Kirk an once recognized as young Drevenoff. Stumph, aroused out
of his usual gravity, was gesticulating determinedly. Drevenoff seemed
insisting upon something doggedly. As Fuller spoke, the two heard the
car for the first time, and turned.
"Thank goodness, here he is now!" cried Stumph. He dashed excitedly
down the step. "Here is a man who desires to see you, sir," he said to
Ashton-Kirk. "He would not leave, though I told him a dozen times that
you were not at home."
The secret agent, followed by Fuller and the man, entered the hall and
the door closed behind them.
"Well?" asked the former of Drevenoff.
"You are Mr. Ashton-Kirk?"
"I am."
"I was sent to fetch you at once to Dr. Morse's place on Fordham Road,
Eastbury."
"Who sent you?"
"Miss Corbin."
Ashton-Kirk looked at the young man; his face was pale, his eyes were
brilliant with excitement.
"Has anything happened?"
"Dr. Morse has been murdered."
Ashton-Kirk turned to Stumph.
"Tell Dixon to wait."
Instantly the man opened the door; the chauffeur was upon the point of
starting away, but halted upon hearing Stumph's voice.
"What trains are there?" asked Ashton-Kirk of Drevenoff.
"No more to-night," answered the man. "I had hoped to find you before
the last one left."
"No matter--the motor will do."
Followed by the others, he hastily reached the car; Fuller seated
himself beside Dixon and Drevenoff entered the tonneau with the secret
agent.
"Fordham Road, Eastbury," directed Ashton-Kirk. "The number is 2979."
The car wheeled in its own length under the skilful hand of Dixon; then
it went speeding away.
"When did this happen?" asked Ashton-Kirk, of Drevenoff.
"The murder?"
"Of course!" sharply.
"I don't know the hour. Some time to-night."
"How was it done?"
"He was shot through the chest."
"Where?"
"In his library."
It is natural, under such circumstances, for an informant to become very
voluble; but not so Drevenoff. His answers were brief; his manner, too,
was sullen and unwilling.
"Tell me what you know about it," requested Ashton-Kirk.
"I know very little," said the man. "This evening about dark I ate my
dinner and looked at the evening paper; then I went to my room, which is
on the third floor. I go to bed early these nights; I am not well, you
see. It must have been about half-past ten when I heard a knocking at
my door. It was Nanon, and she was crying out that Dr. Morse was dead. I
dressed and hurried down-stairs. Dr. Morse was sitting all huddled up in
his chair; his face was smeared with blood. Miss Corbin was kneeling
beside him; the old woman stood by the door."
"Is that all?"
"Nanon told me to go for the police; but Miss Corbin got up at once and
warned me not to. There was a train almost due; she told me to take that
and go get you."
"I see."
The big car rushed along at high speed through the silence of the night;
in a surprisingly short time Eastbury was reached and they turned into
Fordham Road. The residence of Dr. Morse was silent and dark; the blinds
were closely drawn; not even a glimmer of light was to be seen around
their edges. Ashton-Kirk touched the bell; almost instantly the door
opened and through the darkness a voice asked:
"Is that you, Drevenoff?"
"Yes," replied the Pole.
"Have you brought the gentleman?"
"Here he is."
The light was switched on; they saw the seamed face of the old Breton
woman, harsh and emotionless. She spoke to Ashton-Kirk.
"Miss Corbin will see you at once, sir, if you please."
The secret agent followed her down the hall; they passed the library
door, which was closed; and the old servant paused at the room into
which she had shown them the evening before.
"I will tell her that you are here," she said.
Ashton-Kirk entered the room; it was dim, for only one light was
burning; the atmosphere was hushed and breathless; a sort of terror
seemed to have settled over everything. He had waited but a few moments
when he heard a light, hasty step. Then Stella Corbin came in.
Her face was white and the great eyes were dry and dumb with fear; the
corners of her mouth twitched. Silently she held out both hands to the
secret agent; they were deathly cold and he felt them tremble.
"I came as soon as I could," said he.
"I called and called upon the telephone, but they told me that you were
not at home. Then I sent Drevenoff." She spoke in broken, sobbing
sentences; and the fear in her eyes crept into her voice as she went on.
"You see, it is as I expected. He is dead. They have killed him."
"Are you quite strong enough to tell me what you know?" he asked. "It is
important that we act quickly; the police will, of course, be in the
house before long, and they are sometimes disposed to stand in the way."
"The police!" He felt the small, cold hands tighten convulsively, and,
if possible, her face went still whiter. "The police! Oh! I had
forgotten them."
He got her a chair, forced her to sit down, and then took another,
directly facing her. The light fell dimly upon the dark, loosely coiled
masses of her hair and brought out the clear perfection of the face. Her
slight figure seemed almost childish in the long enveloping robe which
she wore.
"I have heard the manner of your uncle's death," he said. "When you
entered the library did you see any sort of firearms lying about near to
his hand?"
Instantly she grasped the meaning behind the words.
"No, no," she said hastily. "It was not suicide! Tried as he was, many
would have resorted to that; but my uncle was not of that sort. He was
murdered."
"There were no firearms, then?"
"No."
"Who discovered the body?"
"Nanon."
"If I may I should like to ask her a question or two."
The old servant was summoned; she entered, angular, severe and sharp of
eye.
"Miss Corbin tells me," said the secret agent, "that it was you who
discovered the body of Dr. Morse."
"It was."
"Would you mind telling me how you came to do so?"
"When he worked at night, he always drank coffee to keep himself awake.
I always made and took it to him. When I went into the library to-night,
I found him sitting in his chair--dead."
"You heard no shot?"
"No."
"When did you last see the doctor alive?"
"About half past nine. I had just finished locking all the windows and
doors when he rang for me."
"Is it your custom to lock up every night?"
"Yes. I have always done so at nine o'clock by the doctor's orders."
"He was so urgent about this," said Stella, "that I have thought he
feared a repetition of the entrances which occurred at Sharsdale."
"You had seen that everything was fast, then?" said Ashton-Kirk, looking
at the old woman.
"Yes; every door and every window upon the lower floor and every window
overlooking the porch on the second floor. As there was no way by which
the house could be entered by any of the other windows we never bothered
with them."
"You say Dr. Morse rang for you as you finished locking up?"
"Yes, sir; and I answered. He was in the library, and I was surprised to
see that he was dressed as though he meant to go out--perhaps upon a
journey. He had on his hat, an overcoat lay across a chair and he was
trying to turn a key in the lock of his traveling bag. The key was bent
and he had rung for me that I might bring him something to straighten it
with. But as he was speaking to me, the lock turned, and he told me that
I need not mind."
"You say he was dressed as though to go out. Did he do so?"
"No, sir. I am sure of that, because I went to the hall door and sat
upon the step for some time. It was a fine night. So if he had gone out
I should have seen him."
"How long did you sit there?"
"About ten minutes. Then I went to prepare the coffee."
"While you sat upon the step did you see or hear anything?"
"I heard Dr. Morse talking."
"With whom?"
"I don't know. I heard a second voice, but not distinctly. I thought it
must be Miss Stella or Mr. Warwick."
Here the girl drew a deep, audible breath, and Ashton-Kirk saw the old
woman fix her sharp eyes upon her.
"But," resumed Nanon, "Miss Stella tells me that it was not she."
"You went directly from the library to the hall door after speaking to
Dr. Morse, you say?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you close the door while you sat upon the step?"
"No; I left it open, thinking to hear if the doctor rang again."
"No one else was in the library when you spoke to the doctor regarding
the key?"
"No one."
"Was there a light in the hallway while you sat at the door?"
"There was."
"Should you have seen any one entering the library?"
"I should. To go into that room he would first have to come through the
hall."
"There were no visitors in the house at any time during the evening?"
"No," said Nanon. "I should have heard them ring, even if some one else
had admitted them."
Ashton-Kirk turned to the girl.
"It is necessary that I know everything that can be told me as to what
took place in the house to-night. So you will pardon a question or two,
I know."
She inclined her head in answer to this; but her mouth twitched
nervously, and her hands held tightly to the chair upon which she sat.
"Where were you when you learned that Dr. Morse was dead?" proceeded
Ashton-Kirk.
"In my sitting-room, where I had gone to read immediately after dinner."
[Illustration: "WHO BROUGHT THE NEWS?"]
"Who brought the news?"
"Nanon. She stood at the foot of the back stairs and called to me."
"Where is your sitting-room?"
"On the second floor at the back; the door was open and I heard her at
once."
"Did you hear or see anything else, previous to this?"
"Very early in the evening I saw Drevenoff going to his room on the
third floor; I sat facing the doorway and had a view of the stairs."
"He did not come down again?"
"Not until Nanon called him."
"You are quite sure of that?"
"Quite. I should have seen him had he come down."
There was a pause of some length; the secret agent looked from one to
the other of the two women, and finally he said to Nanon:
"You say that you are not sure that the second voice you heard in the
library was Mr. Warwick's?"
Again came the quick, deep drawn breath from the girl; and again the
gray eyes of the old woman sought her face. At the same time she
replied:
"I heard a voice. Whose it was, I cannot say."
There was another pause; then he turned to Miss Corbin.
"At all events," said he, smoothly, "I should like to speak to him."
She arose a trifle unsteady.
"I am sorry," she said in a low voice, "but I am afraid that is
impossible, just now."
"Impossible?"
"He is not here--he has gone away."
"Gone away!" It was old Nanon's voice, and it was pitched a shade higher
than usual. She took a step toward the girl, the thick gray brows bent
over the sharp-sighted eyes. "Where has he gone? Why did he go?"
The girl did not reply; she put her hands to her face, and the secret
agent as he looked at her saw that she shivered as though struck with a
chill.
"I do not know," she said.
For a moment the old woman stood looking at her, something like menace
in her face; it seemed as though she were about to burst forth into a
torrent of words. But Ashton-Kirk rose.
"If you don't mind," said he, calmly, "I should like to go through the
house."
Slowly the stern eyes turned from the girl to the speaker.
"You will not see _him_?" indicating the direction of the library.
"Not until afterward."
Without another word she walked toward the door. Ashton-Kirk followed
her; as he was stepping into the hall he looked back. Stella Corbin was
standing erect, her hands clasped, her face white and drawn with what
seemed suspense; and the great dark eyes, filled with terror, were fixed
steadily upon him.