Stebbins Owns Up
"Now, Mr. Stebbins, you'd better speak out in meetin' and tell all you
know. Tell your Auntie Zizi jes' how naughty you was, and how you managed
it. C'mon, now,--'pit it all out!"
Zizi sat on the edge of a chair in Elijah Stebbins' office, and leaned
toward him, her eerie little face enticingly near his, and her smile such
as would charm the birds off the trees.
Stebbins looked at her, and shifted uneasily in his chair.
"I didn't do nothin' wrong," he began, "I played a silly trick or two,
but it was only in fun. When I see they took it seriously, I quit."
"Yes, I know all that," and the impatient visitor shook a prompting
little forefinger at him. "I know everything you said and did to scare
those people into fits, and when they wouldn't scare, but just lapped up
your spook rackets, you quit, as you say, and then,--they took up the
business themselves."
"You sure of that?"
"I am,--certain. Also, I know who did it. What I'm after is to find out a
few missing ways and means. Now, you _were_ a tricksy Puck, weren't you,
when you moved the old battered candlestick that first night? And it did
no harm, that I admit. It roused their curiosity, and started the spook
ball rolling. Then, as a ghost, you appeared to Mr. Bruce, didn't you?"
"Well, I--did," Stebbins grudgingly confessed, forced by the compelling
black eyes, "I just wrop a shawl over my head, and spooked in. But nobody
believed his yarn about it."
"No; they thought Mr. Bruce made up the story, because he had said he
would trick them if he could."
"Yep, I know that," agreed Stebbins, eagerly. "Then once again, I played
spook, and that time, Miss Carnforth was a sleepin' in that ha'nted room.
You see, I expected it would be one o' the men, and when I see a
woman----"
"You were more scared than she was!" Zizi leaned eagerly forward, almost
spilling off her chair, in her interested attention.
"I believe I was," said Stebbins, solemnly. "Anyways, I went out, vowin'
never to do any more spook work,--and I never did."
"All that tallies with my discoveries so far," Zizi nodded, "now what I'm
after, is the way you got in."
"That's a secret," and Stebbins squirmed uneasily.
"A secret entrance, you mean?"
"Yes'm. And how to get into it is a secret that has been known only to
the owner of that house, for generations,--ever since it was built.
Whenever anybody bought it or inherited it, he was told the secret
entrance, and sworn never to tell of it."
"But, look here, Mr. Stebbins, your entrance to that house, or whatever
it is, was seen by somebody. That somebody used it afterward, and played
ghost, and committed crime, and even stole the body of that poor little
girl away. Also, some one carried me,--_me!_ if you please, out by that
secret passage, and tried to drown me! Now, do you think it is your duty
to remain silent, because of that old oath of secrecy?"
Zizi had risen and stood over him like a small but terrifying avenging
angel. If she had brandished a flaming sword, it could not have impressed
Eli Stebbins more than her burning black eyes' glance.
Her long, thin arms were outspread, her slim body poised on tiptoe and
her accusing, condemning face was white and strained in its earnestness.
"No, ma'am, I don't!" and Stebbins rose, too. "Come with me, Miss; I'll
go with you and I'll show you that secret entrance, nobody could ever
find it alone, and I'll own up to all I did, wrong or right. I'm no
murderer, and I'll not put a straw in the way of findin' out who is."
In triumph, Zizi entered the hall of Black Aspens, leading her captive.
Though it must be admitted Stebbins came willingly.
"This here's my house," he said, with an air of importance, "and so far's
I'm responsible for queer goin's on, I'll confess. And after that, you,
Mr. Detective, can find out who carried on the hocus-pocus."
"Thank you, Mr. Stebbins," said Pennington Wise, gravely. "Suppose we ask
all the members of the household to be present at your revelations."
"Not the Thorpes, or them servant maids, if you please. They ain't none
of 'em implicated, and why let 'em know what's goin' on?"
"That's right," said Zizi. "Whatever we learn may not be entirely given
to the public. Just call the rest of the party, Pen."
As it happened, the men were all in the hall talking with Wise when
Stebbins arrived, so Zizi went in search of the women. They were
congregated in Milly's room, and as they came downstairs, the detective
noted their expressions, a favourite method with him of gaining
information.
Milly's round little face was so red and swollen with weeping, that it
excited only compassion in any observer. Norma, too, was sad and
frightened-looking, but Eve was in a defiant mood, and her scarlet lips
were curved in a disdainful smile.
"As we're all at one in our search for the criminal," Wise began,
tactfully, "I think it best that we should hear, all together, Mr.
Stebbins' explanation of how this house may be entered from outside,
though apparently locked and bolted against intrusion."
"I should think, Mr. Wise," said Eve, scornfully, "that if there were
such a possibility, your detective genius ought to have discovered it."
"He couldn't," said Stebbins, simply. "It ain't a means that any one
could discover."
"Then how did the criminal find it out?" demanded Eve.
"He must have seen me come in by it," Stebbins replied. "Nobody could
ever suspect the real way."
"Oh, come now," said Zizi, "Mr. Wise does know. He is not at all vain
glorious, or he would tell you himself. But he prefers to let Mr.
Stebbins tell."
"Is that so, Mr. Wise?" asked Professor Hardwick, eagerly. "If you have
discovered the secret entrance, I wish you would say so. I feel chagrined
that my own reasoning powers have given me no hint."
"I have satisfied myself of the means and the location of the entrance,"
Wise returned, "but I have not examined the place definitely enough to
find the hidden spring that must be there."
"You know that much!" cried Stebbins, in amazement.
"Yes, largely by elimination. There are no hollow walls, no false locks,
no sliding panels,--it seems to me there is no logical hidden entrance,
but through one of those columns," and he pointed to the great bronze
columns that flanked the doorway.
"By golly!" and Stebbins stared at the speaker. "You've hit it, sir!"
"I could, of course, find the secret spring, which must be concealed in
the ornamentation," Wise went on, "but I've hesitated to draw attention
to the columns by working at them. Suppose we let Mr. Stebbins tell us,
and not try to find what we know must be cleverly concealed."
"But wait a minute," pleaded Hardwick. "I'm terribly interested in this
proof of Mr. Wise's perspicacity. You needn't touch the column, but tell
us your theory of its use. Is there a sliding opening in the solid
bronze?"
"I think not," and Wise smiled. "I may be all wrong, I really haven't
looked closely, but my belief is that one or both of those great columns,
which, as you see, are half in and half out of the hall, must swing
round, revolve, you know,--and so open a way out."
"Exactly right!" and Stebbins sprang toward the column that was on the
side of the hall toward the Room with the Tassels. "That's the secret.
Nobody ever so much as dreamed of it before! See, you merely press this
acorn in this bronze oak wreath, half-way up, press it pretty hard, and
the column swings round."
They crowded closer to see, and learned that the column was made in two
half sections, one in the hall and one outside. These, again, were
divided horizontally, about seven feet above the floor, and the joint
concealed by a decorative wreath of bronze oak boughs.
The column was hollow, and one half the shaft revolved within the other,
which, in turn, revolved over the first, so that by successive movements
of the two, one could pass right through the vestibule wall, and close
the opening after him, leaving no trace of his entry or exit. The
vestibule wall, of mahogany, concealed the longitudinal joint in the
column when closed. The doors were hinged to this wooden wall, and were
opened and closed, and locked, quite independently of the columns. Owing
to perfectly adjusted ball bearings, and a thoroughly oiled condition,
the mechanism worked easily and soundlessly.
"The whole contraption was brought from Italy," Stebbins informed them,
"by the original Montgomery. I don't think he ever used it for any wrong
doings, though they do say, soldiers was smuggled through in war times,
and contraband smuggling went on, too. But those is only rumours and
probably exaggerated."
"You exaggerated the ghost stories, too, didn't you, Mr. Stebbins?" asked
Wise.
"I didn't need to, sir. Those yarns of the Shawled Woman, have been told
and retold so many years now, they've grown way beyond their first facts,
if there ever was any truth to 'em. This here column, only one of 'em
revolves,--has always been kept secret, but when the little witch child
made me see it was my duty to tell of it, tell of it I did. Now, sir, go
ahead and find who committed them dastardly murders and I'll consider I
did right to break my oath of secrecy."
"No one will blame you for it," said Professor Hardwick, who was still
experimenting with the revolving column. "This is a marvellous piece of
workmanship, Landon. I never saw such before."
Pennington Wise was covertly watching all the faces as the various ones
peered into the opening left when the column was turned. He stood on
guard, too, and when Eve curiously bent down to open a long box, which
stood up on end, against the inside of the bronze cylinder, he reached
ahead of her.
"Yes," he said, consentingly, "let us see what is in here."
In full view of all, he opened the long box, such a box as long stemmed
roses might have been packed in, and took from it a voluminous cloak of
thin white material, a flimsy, white shawl, and a mask that represented a
skull.
"The paraphernalia of the Shawled Woman," the detective said, exhibiting
the things, "your property, Mr. Stebbins?"
"Yes, they are," and the man looked shame-faced, but determined. "I made
all my plans, before the folks came up here, to ha'nt the Room with the
Tassels. I meant no harm, I vow. I thought they was a silly set of
society folks, who believed in spooks, and I thought I'd give 'em what
they come for. I bought the mask at a fancy shop in town, and the thin
stuff too. The shawl is one my wife used to have. I own up to all my
doin's, because while they was foolish, and maybe mean, they wasn't
criminal. Now, if so be's somebody saw me go in and out, and used those
ghost clo'es, which it seems they must have done, I'll help all I can to
fasten the guilt where it belongs."
"I, too," declared Rudolph Braye. "It certainly looks as if some one had
seen Mr. Stebbins enter the house secretly, and watching, saw him leave.
Then, this night prowler tried the game himself."
"Yes, sir," replied Stebbins. "Just the same sort of spring, inside and
out. Anybody seein' me go through, either way, could easily work out the
secret. But, not knowing of it, nobody'd ever suspect."
"Of course not," agreed Braye. "Now, we have a start, let us get to work
on the more serious aspect of the affair. For, while this revelation
explains the entrance of some midnight marauder, with intent to frighten
us, it doesn't do much toward lessening the mystery of those two deaths."
"You're sure, Mr. Stebbins," and Eve turned glittering eyes on him, "that
you never 'haunted' after that night when you appeared to me! You know a
ghost appeared to Vernie after that. Can we believe that was not the work
of the same malignant----"
"Malignant is not the word to apply to Mr. Stebbins," Pennington Wise
interrupted her, "and it is up to us,--to me, to find who took his place
as haunter of this house. Also, who it was that removed the body of
Vernie Reid, doubtless through the revolving column, and--who kidnapped
and tried to drown Zizi."
"Those are secondary problems," said Braye, thoughtfully gazing at the
detective. "But they must be solved, too, of course. What I'm more
anxious about, however, is to learn how any one could compass the
murders,--if murders they were."
"Of course they were," said Hardwick. "Now that I know as much as I do
know, I'm sure we'll learn all. Mr. Wise, I'm of a detective bent,
myself, and you may count on me to help you all I can. You needn't
laugh----"
"My dear Professor Hardwick, I assure you I've no thought of laughing, or
of belittling the help you offer. I'm truly glad of your assistance and
it is my habit to be frank with my clients, so we need have no
reservations, on either side. The assurance we have received that an
intruder could and did enter the house, gives us new directions in which
to look and new theories to pursue. I'm sure you will all agree with me
that the body of Miss Reid was carried out through the secret column, and
not removed by supernatural means."
"Without doubt," said Rudolph Braye, but Eve Carnforth looked a denial.
"I can't agree," she said, "that the discovery of a secret entrance
disproves all possibility of the presence of supernatural agencies. I
think no human intruder can be held responsible for all we have been
through. How do you account for two deaths occurring at the very moment
they were foretold?"
Her question was evidently addressed to Wise, and he replied, "I think,
Miss Carnforth, that those two deaths were murders, cleverly accomplished
by human wills, and it is my immediate duty to prove this. Therefore, I
am now going to endeavour to recover the missing body of the unfortunate
girl who was killed."
"What! Vernie's body!" and Eve gasped.
"Yes. And not wishing to do anything to which you may not all agree, I
announce frankly that I am going to have the lake dragged."
"The lake!" cried Wynne Landon, "why, man, it is miles long!"
"But I think that the same person who tried to drown Zizi is responsible
for the disappearance of Miss Reid's body, and I feel sure that if we
look in that same part of the lake we will find what we are after."
"Incredible!" exclaimed Landon. "You will only waste your time!"
Wise looked closely at the face of the speaker, and then turned quickly
to observe another face.
"At any rate, it can do no harm to try," he said, finally.
"Not at all," said Braye; "go ahead. But even the recovery of Vernie's
body, will get us no nearer to her murderer. I wish I had been here at
the time of those deaths. While I cannot feel I should have been of any
help, I do think I could have noticed something or formed some opinion or
conclusion from the circumstances."
"No, Rudolph," said the Professor. "There was nothing to be seen or
deduced from anything that happened at that time. I was nearest to Mr.
Bruce, Miss Carnforth was nearest to Vernie. Neither of us saw anything
suspicious or of unexplainable intent."
"And yet Mr. Bruce was poisoned," said Wise, glancing from one face to
another. "And I feel positive Miss Reid was also poisoned. She must have
been. What else could have killed her, like that?"
"True enough," and Braye nodded his head. "But do you think an
examination of her body, after all this time, could prove that?"
"Whether it could or not," said Wise, "we want to recover the body if
possible. My theory is that it must have been thrown in the lake. If it
was taken away through the revolving column, what else could have been
done with it? To bury it would have been to risk discovery. And Zizi's
experience----"
"Are you sure, Mr. Wise, that Zizi's experience was truthfully related?
May she not have been hysterically nervous, and imagined the whole thing?
I've heard of such cases."
"Who put you up to that idea, Miss Carnforth?" said Wise, very quietly,
and Eve flushed and turned aside, remaining silent.
Pennington Wise's theory proved the true one.
The men employed to drag the lake at Black Aspens succeeded in finding
the body of Vernie Reid. A bag of bricks had been tied to the ankles, in
the same manner as described by Zizi, and the little form had been sunk
in almost the same place that Zizi had been flung into the water.
Reverent hands carried the body to the house, and later it was examined
by a skilled physician from New York City.
He reported that death had ensued upon the girl's arm being scratched
with some sharp implement, which had been previously dipped in a powerful
poison.
As this was the same physician who had passed the final judgment on the
cause of Mr. Bruce's death, his report was listened to with confidence
and belief.
"You must know," he said, to the awed group, "that about last March, a
plot was formed against some high officials in England. These diabolical
plans included the use of extremely poisonous drugs. By a most culpable
oversight the names and descriptions of these poisons crept into the
public press, and since then, several attempts at their use have been
made, mostly, I am glad to say, without result.
"But, it is clear to me, that the murderer of these two people, Mr.
Bruce, and the child, Vernie Reid, used the poisons I have told you of."
"I read about them," said Pennington Wise. "They included a rare drug
only to be obtained from South America."
"That was the statement," said the doctor, "but I'm credibly informed
there is a supply secretly hoarded in this country. However that may be,
I am convinced that was the means used in Miss Reid's case. This poison
must be introduced under the skin, by means of a cut or scratch,
whereupon, the effect is instantaneously fatal. Twenty seconds is said to
be the extreme length of time for life to remain in a body after the
introduction of the venom. There is a distinct scratch on Miss Reid's
upper right arm, so inflamed and poisoned as to leave no doubt in the
matter."
"That's why the body was removed," said the Professor, "lest that scratch
be discovered."
"Yes," agreed Wise, "and the other victim, Mr. Bruce, was killed by
having the poison introduced into his stomach."
"That was a different poison," said the doctor. "That was strychnine
hydrochlorate, which acts with equal speed. The evidential point is, that
these two poisons were both plotted to be used in the case I mentioned in
England, which, however, was foiled before it was actually attempted. The
grave wrong, was the account in the newspapers, which was so
circumstantial and definite as to give information to whoever cared to
use it. Can any one doubt that the villain in this case, read the article
I speak of, which was in several of our American papers, and made use of
his ill-gotten directions to achieve his purpose?"
"How did it get into Mr. Bruce's stomach?" demanded Braye.
"It was secretly placed in his tea or in the cake he was eating,"
declared the doctor. "Don't ask me how,--or who did it. That is not my
province. But whoever could plan these fearsome deeds, could find an
ingenious method of carrying out his plans,--of that I'm sure."
"I wish I'd been present," said Braye, again, as he sighed deeply.