Minna Varian
It was not until after the funeral of her husband that Minna Varian
really came to herself. The three intervening days, she had been free
from hysterics but had been in a state of physical exhaustion and
incapable of any exertion.
But on the day after the funeral, she seemed to take on a new vitality.
“I have come to life,” she said, speaking very seriously. “I have at last
realized what has happened to me. I was dazed at first, and couldn’t seem
to get my senses. Now, we will have no more hysterics, no more emotional
scenes, but we go to work to find my child,—to save what I can from my
wrecked life. It is a wonder that I didn’t lose my mind utterly. Think of
it, Herbert, to lose my husband by death and my child by a mystery far
worse than death——”
Minna showed signs of breaking down again, but forced herself to control
her voice.
“I have made up my mind,” she went on, “to go about the search for Betty
systematically and immediately. The detectives can do nothing,—they have
proved that. The sheriff and that Mr Dunn are at the end of their rope. I
don’t blame them,—it is a baffling case. And I know they think Betty’s
dead body is hidden somewhere on the premises. Though how they can think
that, I don’t see, after the search that has been made.”
“They think it,” Janet said, “because there’s no other possible
conclusion. You know, yourself, Minna, if Betty were alive we would know
of it by this time.”
“Never mind theories or conclusions,” Minna said, determinedly, “action
is what I want. I _know_ my Betty never killed her father! I know that as
well as I know that I’m alive. And Betty may be dead or alive,—but I’m
going to find her in any case. Now, first of all, I suppose you people
want to get away from here. Herbert, your practice is calling you, of
course. I’m not going to keep you. But I’m going to stay here, on these
premises, where my child disappeared, until I get some knowledge of what
happened to her.”
“But, Minna,” Varian objected, “you can’t stay here alone——”
“Then I’ll get some one to stay with me. I can get a companion or a nurse
or a secretary,—you see, Herbert, there’s a lot of business to be
attended to in connection with Fred’s papers and affairs. He left me very
well off, but the financial settling up will call for the trained work of
a good lawyer or accountant.”
“Young Granniss spoke to me about that,” Doctor Varian said; “he’s a
bright young lawyer, you know, and he thought perhaps you’d employ him,
and then he thought he’d help you in the search for Betty.”
“I’d like that. Rod’s a nice chap, and truly, Fred had nothing against
him, except that he wanted to take Betty away from us. It would be no
slighting of Fred’s wishes if I should have to do with Mr Granniss,—and
nobody could be better help to me in my search.”
“I can’t see, Minna,” said Janet, “what you hope from that search. Every
nook and cranny of this whole place has been thoroughly examined, and as
nothing has been found——”
“That’s just it, Janet,” Minna spoke patiently, “because nothing has been
found is the very reason I must search more and further. I shall, first
of all, offer a large reward. The size of the reward may bring
information when no other means would.”
“Make the offer as large as you like, Minna,” Varian said, but not
unkindly, “for you’ll never be called upon to pay it. Why, child, there’s
no hope. I don’t want to be brutal, but really, Minna, dear, you oughtn’t
to buoy yourself up with these false hopes, that never can be realized.”
“Look here, Herbert, what do you think happened to my child? Who do you
think killed Fred?”
“Since you ask me, Minna, I must say, in all honesty, that I can’t see
any possible theory or any imaginable explanation except that Betty shot
her father, and then shot herself.”
“Where is she, then?”
“Hidden in some secret cupboard in this house, that she knew of, but that
we haven’t yet found.”
“I can see, Herbert,” Minna spoke slowly, “how you can believe that,
because, as you say, you can’t think of any other case. But I know,—I
_know_ Betty never shot her father. I know that,—and I shall yet prove
it.”
“But, Minna, there must have been more enmity between Fred and Betty than
you know of, to make him leave the Varian pearls to Eleanor.”
“That is incredible,” Minna mused. “I can’t understand that and I
shouldn’t believe it, if it were not right there in Fred’s own
handwriting. I haven’t seen the pearls for some years. I’ve been too much
of an invalid to wear them often, and they’ve stayed in the safe deposit
for the last five or six years. But I meant Betty should wear them next
winter. Of course, I was sure Fred would leave them to her in his will. I
can’t understand it! It isn’t so much the loss of the value that affects
me, as the appalling fact that he wanted to leave them away from Betty.
As you say, there must have been something between those two,—something
desperate that I don’t know about.”
“But what could there be?” Janet said, a blank wonder on her face.
“That’s the very point,” said Minna. “I know there has never been any
special or particular ground for disagreement between those two except as
to the matter of Betty’s getting married,—or engaged. Fred never would
consent to that. But of course he would have done so, later. He didn’t
approve of very early marriages,—but more, I think, he dreaded the idea
of Betty’s going away from us.”
“Yet that only proves a special and even selfish fatherly love,” Varian
said, “and in that case, why take the pearls away from her?”
“I can’t understand it,” said Minna again; “it is too amazing! He adored
Betty, and what ever possessed him to give the pearls to Eleanor,—he
liked Eleanor, as we all do, but he never seemed especially attached to
her. Not to put her ahead of Betty, anyway!”
“Of course she shall never take the pearls,” said Janet, decidedly. “I
think Fred was temporarily out of his mind when he made that will, or he
was temporarily angry at Betty. When is it dated?”
“That’s the strange part,” said Minna. “He made that will ten years ago.”
“When Betty was only about ten years old! He couldn’t have been angry at
the child then!”
“I think that is the only explanation,” Doctor Varian said. “I can’t
think of any other explanation except that Fred was foolishly angry at
the child, and in a fit of silly temper made the will giving the pearls
to Eleanor, and then forgot all about it.”
“Forgot the Varian pearls!” cried Janet; “not likely. But I never shall
let Eleanor accept them.”
“Don’t say that, my dear,” remonstrated her husband. “If Betty never is
found, of course it’s right Eleanor should have the pearls. I am the next
Varian to Fred, and my daughter is the rightful heir,—after Betty.”
“That’s true,” said Minna. “But let that matter rest for the present. If
Betty is never found, Eleanor ought to have the pearls. If Betty is
found, I shall be so happy, I don’t care what becomes of them!”
“You’re right, Minna,” Doctor Varian said, “in thinking I ought to get
back to the city. But Janet or Nell or both will stay here with you as
long as you need or want them.”
“Only till I can get somebody else. I’ve about concluded to take Rodney
Granniss as secretary and have him settle up Fred’s estate. With the
co-operation of Fred’s own lawyers. Then, I’ll have a sort of nurse
companion who can look after me, and then, I shall devote my life and, if
need be, all my money to solving my mysteries. I shall get the best
detectives in the country. I shall follow out also some ideas of my own,
and if success is possible, I shall attain it.”
Minna sat upright, her eyes shining with a clear, steady determined
light. She seemed another being from the one who had screamed in
hysterics at first knowledge of her sorrows.
“I’ve found myself,” she said, in explanation. “I’ve risen above my dead
self of grief and sorrow. Why, my desolation is so great, so unspeakable,
that I must do something or go mad! I’m not going mad,—I have too much to
do. Now, Janet, if you and Eleanor,—or one of you, will stay a day or two
longer, I’ll get a nurse up from the city, and as soon as she arrives you
can go. I know you’ll be glad to get away from this place of horrors——”
“Not that, Minna, dear, but we have several engagements——”
“Yes, of course, I know. Well, plan for two days more,—I’ll be settled by
that time.”
And she was. Inside of forty-eight hours, the now energetic woman had
Rodney Granniss installed as her secretary and man of business, and had
secured the services of a capable and kindly woman as nurse and
companion. Her new household made up, she let her relatives go back to
their own summer home, and devoted herself to her life work.
“Of course,” she said to Granniss, “we must go ahead on the supposition
that Betty is alive.”
“And she is, Mrs Varian,” the young man said, earnestly. “For, North and
I have been all over this place, and North is a sort of an architect, you
know, and I’m sort of a detective, and we can’t find any place where any
one could be concealed. Now, it doesn’t do any good, as some do, to say
there must be a secret passage, or secret cupboard. If there were, we
must have found it. And it’s too ridiculous, even to think for a minute
that Betty killed her father! I know Betty, even better, perhaps than you
or her father ever knew her. We have been sweethearts for nearly a year,
and I tried many a time to persuade Betty to defy her father, and
announce her engagement to me. She would have done so soon, I’m sure, but
it was her love and respect for him that made her hold off so long. As to
their little squabbles, they meant nothing at all. To imagine that girl
shooting anybody is too absurd! I could rather imagine——”
Granniss paused, and Minna took up his thought.
“You could rather imagine her father shooting her! I’ve thought that
over, but you see, it’s impossible, because there was no weapon found.”
“It’s the strangest case I ever heard of! Now, about the reward. It’s
time that was attended to.”
“Yes; and I think we’ll make it as high as ten thousand dollars,——”
“For Betty’s return?”
“Yes, that is, for any information that may lead to knowledge of what
happened to Betty and where she is now.”
“Nothing about apprehending the criminal?”
“You know, Mr Granniss, they make fun of me for imagining this
‘criminal.’ How could there be one? How did he get in the house? How did
he disappear again? You say yourself there’s no secret passage,—we know
nobody came in through the regular way,—how, then, even suggest a
‘criminal’?”
“Yes, but why offer a reward, if there’s no one who could by any chance
appear to claim it?”
“That’s the point Doctor Varian makes. He says it doesn’t matter how
large we make the offer, for it never will be claimed.”
“Then we’ll just assume that criminal, and go ahead with the reward
plan,” said Granniss, cheerfully. “I’ll attend to it, and we won’t
speculate on its result at present. It surely can’t do any harm. But, Mrs
Varian, we must do more than that.”
“What, for instance?”
“Detectives. I think you should get the best one you can and get him up
here at once.”
“Please do that, Mr Granniss. What do you do? Apply to a city agency?”
“Yes; or get a private detective. I know of one,—the best there is in the
country, but we might not be able to get him.”
“Try, anyway. Offer any price,—any bonus. Only get him.”
“Very well,—I’ll try. I have to go down to New York soon, for there are
many important matters to see to with Mr Varian’s lawyers. I’ll see about
this detective then.”
Minna had replaced the servants who had left her with maids from the
village. There were some who were glad to go to a house suddenly made
famous by such an astounding mystery. Others declared the house was
haunted, and wouldn’t go near it.
Among those who inclined to the haunted house idea was the new nurse. A
Mrs Fletcher: she was of a psychic turn of mind, and while she didn’t
exactly believe Betty was carried off by spooks, yet she thought the girl
might have taken her own life, and perhaps her father’s, because of
supernatural influences or directions.
“Rubbish!” Minna Varian told her. “My Betty was,—is,—a healthy, normal
girl. She has none of those foolish notions of the occult or
supernatural.”
“It’s the only explanation,” said Mrs Fletcher, doggedly. “And I do think
the house is haunted,—I heard mysterious sounds last night,—like rustling
of wings.”
Minna Varian only looked amused at this, but Granniss, who was present,
said, “That’s interesting, Mrs Fletcher. Tell me about it.”
The account, however, was merely a vague idea of sounds, that might have
been mysterious, but were more likely made by the servants going about at
night.
Sheriff Potter and his colleague, Bill Dunn, had practically given up the
matter. They pretended to be working on it, but as they themselves put
it, “What can you do when you can’t do nothin’?”
There was room for much discussion, but when it came to action, what was
there to be done?
You can’t hunt a criminal when you’ve no reason to assume any criminal
intent. You can’t hunt for a missing girl after you’ve scoured all the
places where she could by any possibility be found. You can’t hunt for
the murderer of a man when there was no way for a murderer to be on the
scene.
“Then are you going to give up the quest?” Granniss asked of the sheriff.
“No, not that,” Potter said, uneasily. “We’re open to suggestion,—we’re
keen for any new clue or testimony,—but where can we look for such? You
must see, Mr Granniss, that it’s a mighty unusual case,—a most mysterious
and unsolvable case.”
“I do see that, and that’s why I’m going to get expert assistance.”
“Go ahead,” said Potter, agreeably. “I’ll be glad to see any man who can
handle the thing. Why, there’s no handle to it. No place to catch hold.
Here’s a man killed, and a girl missing. Now, we’ve no more idea what
happened to those two people than we had at the moment of the discovery
of the situation.”
“That’s perfectly true.”
“And what’s more, we never will have. That mystery will never be solved.”
“You’re saying that, Mr Potter, doesn’t necessarily make it true.”
“No; but it’s true all the same. If Miss Betty was in any way to
blame,—which, I can’t believe,—you’ll never find out anything. Because,
if she’s alive she’d have shown up by this time.”
“Go on,—and if Miss Betty was not to blame——”
“Then, whoever was to blame made a blame good job of it,—and you’ll never
catch him!”
“That’s the principle I’m going to work on,—the idea that somebody did do
it,—that he did make a good job of it,—and that I am going to catch him!”
“Fine talk, but there’s the same old stumbling block. You can’t argue an
outsider,—an intruder, without allowing a secret entrance to that
house,—and you say there isn’t any.”
“There sure isn’t.”
“Well, suppose your criminal didn’t arrive and depart in an aeroplane?”
“I’ve thought of that,—but it isn’t possible. You see there were half a
dozen people looking on all the time. I wish I’d been there!”
“’Twouldn’t have done any good. You couldn’t ’a’ seen more’n anybody else
did. There was nothing to see.”
“No,” agreed Granniss, “there was nothing to be seen.”
Lawrence North came up to the house again at Rod’s request, and once more
they looked for a secret room or cupboard.
Armed with a yardstick and measuring tape, they went through the house
from roof to cellar. They paced floors and measured walls and tapped
ceilings, and proved to their own conviction that there was no foot of
space in the whole structure unaccounted for.
“It isn’t,” said North, “as if it were an old English manor house or a
medieval castle. It’s modern, it isn’t built with any sinister plan or
any desire for secret maneuvers. There never was any smuggling going on
up as far as this, and, anyway, this is a simple pleasure house, built
for a pleasant simple family life. I’ve looked up the builders, and they
say it was built by a commonplace man with a commonplace family. They
moved out of the state long ago, but there never was anything secretive
or mysterious about them.”
They spent a long time in the cellar, but here, too, there was no
uncertain space. Everything was built four-square. Every room, bin or
cupboard was as plainly defined as those above, and there was no hiding
place possible.
Granniss looked down the old dried up well. “Dunn went down that,”
Lawrence said; “nothing doing.”
“I’ve got to go down myself,” returned Rodney, shortly, as he took off
his coat.
“Be careful, then,” North admonished him. “I’ll hold the light.”
A good, strong flashlight illumined the old well, and Rod Granniss
clambered down its stone sides.
But he returned with the same message Dunn had brought.
“All dried up; nothing down there but a muddy bottom and moss-grown
stones.”
“No stones missing?”
“No; all solid and complete. I gave it a most careful scrutiny, for I
don’t want to have to go down again.”
“Well, that finishes the cellar, then.”
“Yes; and finishes the house. You must admit, Lawrence, there’s no
possible chance of Betty Varian being in this house, dead or alive.”
“Of course, I admit that,—but, what, then?”
“I can’t even suggest! Can you?”
“There’s nothing left but that she went away,—managed somehow to elude
the watchers,—perhaps they were not noticing the house.”
“You talk as if she could get down from this headland by any other route
than right past where the crowd were waiting.”
“Maybe she hid here in the house, until after dark——”
“Oh, don’t suggest such awful things! Betty kill her father, and then,
hiding until dark, make her way out and down to the village and away from
the Harbor—oh, impossible!”
“Alternative?”
“I don’t know! The more I think it over the less I can see _any_
solution!”
“What about the haunted house idea?”
“That doesn’t mean a thing to me,” Granniss scorned it. “In fact, I
usually come back to the idea that Mr Varian in some way killed himself.”
“Weapon?”
“I know, but I mean, maybe he shot himself, and Betty, who might have
been trying to prevent it, took the pistol and ran away.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t _know_! You are too exasperating, Lawrence! You just stand
there and say ‘why’? Stop it.”
“Keep your temper, Rod. I’m only trying, as you are, to find some way to
look. It is indeed impenetrable!”
“And then that matter of the pearls.”
“To me that is the strangest revelation yet. No matter how much the
father and daughter had little disagreements, even quarrels, how could he
leave that great treasure away from his child and give it to his niece!”
“I think that very thing is a key to the mystery.”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You know I don’t know, Lawrence; if I did I’d have told
long ago! But I believe when the worthwhile detective that I’m going to
get for Mrs Varian takes hold of the case, he’ll work from that strange
bequest of the Varian pearls.”
“Maybe he will,—but to me,—while it’s passing strange, it doesn’t seem to
indicate anything definite.”
“No, nor to me. But we haven’t the trained mind of the real detective.”
“Who’s the man you’re going to get?”
“Pennington Wise, the best in the country.”
“I’ve heard of him. Well, it will be interesting to see how he goes about
it.”