Another Confession
Pennington Wise and Zizi sat in the hall talking. It was part of Wise's
policy never to hold secret conclaves with his little assistant, for, he
said that the people who employed him were entitled to all his suspicions
or deductions as they took shape and grew in his mind. Professor Hardwick
joined them as Wise was saying, "What first turned your attention to the
Room with the Tassels, Ziz? Why did you move into that room to sleep?"
"Because the lock was oiled," Zizi replied, her black eyes glistening.
"The first time I got a chance I looked at all the locks in the house,
and only two were freshly oiled, and they had been well looked after,--I
can tell you."
"What did that prove to you?" Hardwick asked.
"That somebody was haunting the Room with the Tassels who had to open the
door to get in. No ghost would need to turn a knob and open the door.
They splash right through walls or anything, or they ought to, if they
know their business! But this lock, as well as the knob, was oiled, and,
as you know, the door was opened though locked on the inside. Clever
fingers can turn a key from the other side, if they have a certain
implement, used by burglars. Also, if the key was not in the door, clever
people could provide a duplicate key. But these things are not necessary
for ghosts. They just glide in serenely, not even thinking about keys or
doors."
"You're right, child," and Wise nodded approvingly at her. "Now, what
other door had its lock oiled?"
"Not only the lock, but the hinges of one of the bedroom doors were
carefully oiled. You know which one, Penny."
"I do, Zizi. Have you no suspicion, Professor?"
"I'd rather not say. As a friend of all the people in our party, I simply
can't bring myself to mention the name of any one of them, and, yet if
one of us is a criminal, it is the duty of the others to see justice
done."
"Well, it must soon come out, anyway. It is Mr. Tracy's door, isn't it,
Zizi?"
"Yes."
"Bless my soul!" cried the Professor, "Tracy! Why, he's a minister!"
"No," and Penny Wise shook his head, "Mr. Tracy is not a minister and
never was. On the contrary, he's about as far removed from piety of any
sort, as any man on God's green earth!"
"What are you saying?" cried Eve Carnforth, coming swiftly toward them.
"Mr. Tracy not a minister!"
"No;" repeated Wise, "John Tracy is a notorious criminal, known as Smug
Johnny by his friends, and also by the police. I have just had returns
from some inquiries I sent to Chicago, and I learn that this double-dyed
villain is wanted on several counts, but never before has he been accused
of murder."
"And did he kill Mr. Bruce and Vernie?" cried Eve, her hands clenched in
excitement and her long eyes narrowed with fear.
"He did, I am positive. We have yet to prove it, but I have evidence
enough----"
"Where is he?" said Hardwick, abruptly.
"Under strict surveillance," returned Wise. "My men are at his heels day
and night. He can't get away."
"He stole me," said Zizi; "you see I had my eye on him, 'cause of his
oiled door. Then when he came, I thought he was only going to scare me,
but he stuffed that old chloroform in my mouth so quick, I couldn't even
yell out. If I hadn't had some experience in swimming pools and movie
thrillers, I'd been down at the bottom of that horrid old lake this
minute!"
"But I can't understand," and Eve looked puzzled; "why would Mr. Tracy
kill those people, and how did he do it? Mr. Wise, you're crazy! It's an
impossible theory!"
Others had gathered in the hall, now, and Pennington Wise told them all
of his recent advices from Chicago, that proved the supposed clergyman a
fraud and a villain.
Milly showed the greatest relief. "Oh," she cried, "I'm glad you've found
out who it was, anyway! But it doesn't seem as if Mr. Tracy could be a
bad man--are you sure, Mr. Wise?"
"Yes, Mrs. Landon, there is no doubt at all. Now, let us reconstruct the
scene of those two deaths. Where was Mr. Tracy sitting?"
"Right here, where I am now," said Norma, thinking back. "Vernie was over
there, near the front door. Mr. Bruce was across the hall by Professor
Hardwick, and Eve was in the middle of the room by the tea-table."
"Will you be so kind, Miss Carnforth, as to think very carefully," said
Wise, "and see if you recollect Mr. Tracy's presence near you as you were
fixing the various cups of tea. Did he have the slightest opportunity to
add anything to the cup that was afterward handed to Mr. Bruce?"
Excited, almost hysterical, Eve obeyed the detective's command, and said,
after a moment's thought, "Yes, he did. I remember he passed near me, and
Vernie stood at my side also. They had a bit of good-natured banter as to
which should take the cup I had just poured out, and Vernie won, and she
laughingly carried it to Mr. Bruce. I remember it distinctly."
"Then, doubtless, at that moment, Tracy dropped the small amount of
poison necessary in the cup, sure that it would be given to Mr. Bruce.
Had Vernie given it to any one else, he would have intercepted it. He is
a man of suave manners, you know."
"Yes," said Norma, "particularly so, and very graceful about any social
matters. He always assisted in passing the tea things."
"Go on," said Penny Wise; "what happened as Mr. Bruce took his first sip
of tea?"
"He changed countenance at once," said Hardwick. "I was talking to him,
and a queer pallor came over his face and then it turned fiery red. He
dropped his cup and----"
"One moment," said Wise; "what became of that broken cup?"
"I've no idea," said the Professor, helplessly looking about him.
"I wasn't home," began Milly, "Mr. Braye and I had gone to East
Dryden----"
"The tray was taken out as usual," interposed Eve, but Norma said,
quietly, "I picked up the broken bits and laid them on the tray."
"Call in the servant who took away that tray," said Wise, shortly.
Old Thorpe was called in, and told his story.
"I came in for the tray," he said, "and seein'--what I did see--I was
fair knocked out. I did as usual, and picked up the tray to carry it to
the kitchen. Mr. Tracy was by the tray at the time, and he was pourin'
hot water into the teacups. I don't think the man knew what he was
about,--none of us did, and small wonder!"
Thorpe knew nothing of the recent developments regarding Tracy, and Wise
pursued: "Do you remember whether Mr. Tracy poured hot water over the
broken cup?"
"That's just what he was doin', sir, that's why I thought he didn't
rightly know what he was about."
"You may go, Thorpe," said Wise.
"You see," he continued after the old man had gone, "Tracy poured boiling
hot water from the afternoon teakettle over the broken cup, that all
evidence of poison might be removed, if the bits of china were examined.
I've not heard of that being done, however, but a guilty conscience would
naturally fear it. That little incident shows the astuteness of his
criminal mind."
"It does!" cried Professor Hardwick. "What a depraved, a demoniacal
nature must be his! Where did he come from? Who introduced him to our
party?"
"I did," said Rudolph Braye. "I had, of course, no suspicion of his real
nature. I met Tracy on the train, travelling from Chicago to New York,
about a year ago. He was a pleasant smoking room companion, and I've seen
him several times since, in New York. I had no reason to think him other
than what he represented himself, a clergyman, with a church in Chicago.
He impressed me as a fine, congenial sort, and when Mrs. Landon asked me
to suggest another member for our house party, I thought of him at once.
His cloth seemed to me to be his adequate credentials and, in fact, I
never gave a thought to his possible duplicity! Nor can I reconcile the
facts, even yet. How do you know these things, Mr. Wise? Are you not
romancing a little?"
"No, Mr. Braye, I am not even surmising. What I have stated is true,
because there is no other possible deduction from the facts I have
learned. I have identified the man Tracy who was here with you as the
notorious Smug Johnny of Chicago. Do you need further knowledge of him to
believe that he is the criminal in this case, rather than one of your own
immediate circle?"
"No," and Milly shuddered; "it is bad enough that it should have been Mr.
Tracy, but far better than to suspect one of us here."
"Furthermore," continued Wise, "let us look into the details of the death
of Vernie Reid. Who can give me the exact facts as noticed?"
"I," said Eve Carnforth; "and, now, as I look back, I see it all in a
different light! I was looking at Mr. Bruce, as everybody was, startled
by the sound of crashing china, and I heard Mr. Tracy say, 'Vernie,
child! What _is_ the matter?' or some such words. Then he ran quickly to
her side and held her up in his arms, while I ran to them and helped him
to lay her on the sofa."
"See?" said Wise; "at the moment Tracy sprang toward the girl she was
unharmed, and as he put his arm round her, he scratched her arm with a
sharp pointed instrument, which had been dipped in the awful poison that
we have learned of. It is said to be similar to that with which the
barbarians of South America tip their arrows. But the least scratch is
instantly fatal, and proved so in Vernie's case. The instrument he used,
we have reason to think, was a steel pen."
"Why do you think that?" asked Professor Hardwick.
"Because Zizi found a few new ones in Tracy's room, that had not been
used for writing purposes. There were five in a small paper parcel. We
have found that he bought these at a shop in the village, buying six at
the time. This is merely a shred of evidence, but the fact that Zizi
found the pens became known to Mr. Tracy, in fact he caught her searching
his room. It was this that made him try to do away with the child."
"Tracy? Do away with Zizi!" exclaimed Braye. "Why, he was gone away from
here, then."
"No. He had left the house, but he was lurking about, and after all had
retired that night, he came through the revolving column, and kidnapped
Zizi, and threw her into the lake,--as he had previously thrown in the
body of Vernie Reid. That, he did, lest the scratch on her arm be
discovered by the doctors, and he be suspected."
"Then it was Tracy who discovered the secret of the revolving column,"
said Braye, thoughtfully. "You take a great deal for granted, Mr. Wise."
"I take nothing for granted, save what the facts prove, Mr. Braye. That
Tracy used the revolving column is positive. Do you not all remember the
night when Professor Hardwick saw the apparition of the Shawled Woman? On
that night Mr. Tracy was supposed to be in Boston. As a matter of fact,
he was not, he had left the house, saying he was going to Boston but he
remained in hiding near the house, played ghost, and _then_ went on his
way."
"I was in New York that night," said Braye, musingly. "But, look here,
Mr. Wise, one afternoon, about dusk, Miss Cameron and I distinctly saw
the apparition of the Shawled Woman in the Room with the Tassels when we
ourselves were out of doors. We saw it through the window,--don't you
remember, Norma?"
"I do,----"
"Then that was Mr. Tracy's doings also," declared Wise. "How simple for
him to get the paraphernalia from the column, where it was always in
readiness, make his appearance to frighten you two, and then return the
shawl and so forth before you could enter and catch him."
"It would have been possible," agreed Braye, and then Hardwick began.
"There were many other strange things to be accounted for, such as
moanings and rustlings in the morning at four o'clock, and also
occasional odours of prussic acid, without apparent reason."
"Lay them all to Tracy," said Wise, "you won't be far out. Now, who was
running that Ouija board the night it said the two people would die at
four o'clock?"
"Vernie and Mr. Tracy," said Norma, "but when it said that, Mr. Tracy
took his hands off and said he would have no more to do with it. He said
he believed Vernie pushed it to those letters."
"He was a good actor," said Wise, looking grave and sighing; "he fooled
you all, it would seem."
"He certainly fooled me, good and plenty," said Braye, angrily. "You say
you have him in custody, Mr. Wise?"
"I did not say that, but I have him under such surveillance that he
cannot get away. There are some other matters to be discussed. Granting
Tracy's guilt, what do you ascribe as a motive?"
There was a profound silence. What could have been the motive for a
perfect stranger to kill with deliberation two people who had never
injured him in any way, and from whose death he could expect no pecuniary
advantage?
"Look here," said Wynne Landon, suddenly, "Mr. Tracy went away from here
because the spectre appeared to him. How do you account for that?"
"Mr. Tracy _said_ so," returned Wise, "but that story of his ghostly
vision was made up out of the whole cloth,--which was all of the 'cloth'
with which he ever had to do."
"He made up that yarn, then, as an excuse to get away?" said Hardwick.
"He did just that," replied Wise. "But what has any one to suggest as Mr.
Tracy's motive for the crimes he committed?"
"Plain homicidal mania," offered Hardwick, at last, as no one else spoke.
"No," said Wise, "John Tracy is not of that type. Such people are
abnormal, they have special physical characteristics, and they are easily
recognized, once suspicion is attached to them. Tracy is a quiet, even
debonair character, he is even-tempered, gentle-mannered and though
deeply clever he hides it under a mask of kindliness and consideration.
Victims of what is called homicidal mania are not at all like this. They
are difficult to get along with, they do queer, inexplicable things, and
most of all, they show in their faces the traits that lead them to their
villainous deeds. You all know Tracy is not of this type. Therefore you
must look further for his motive."
"Did he receive any bequest from Mr. Bruce's will?" asked Hardwick,
wonderingly.
"Certainly not," asserted Landon. "He didn't know Mr. Bruce until we came
up here, and that would have been no motive for his killing Vernie. Nor
can there be any personal motive, Mr. Wise, for that. Shall we not have
to ascribe it to some form of degeneracy, whether that seems plausible or
not?"
"No," decreed Wise, looking sternly from one to another. "No; John
Tracy's motive for those two inhuman murders was the motive that is
oftenest the reason for murder--money lust!"
Eve Carnforth gave a scream and buried her face in her hands.
Milly Landon turned white and swayed as if about to faint, but her
husband caught her in his arms and supported her.
"What can he mean?" said Norma, turning to Braye, "how could Mr. Tracy
have done it for money? Who would give him money?"
"Hush, Norma," said Braye, in a low voice, and Norma remembered it was
the same tone he had used, when she had before asked questions of him.
She had thought over his words on that occasion, and had concluded he
meant she must not say anything that seemed to throw suspicion toward
Wynne Landon. She looked at the sobbing Milly, and the pained, strained
face of Wynne, who was trying to soothe her, and then Norma turned to
Eve.
Eve was using all her will power to preserve her poise, but Norma saw at
once that she was having difficulty to do so. In kindness of heart, Norma
went over to the suffering girl.
"Come with me, Eve," she said, softly, "let us go off by ourselves for a
while."
"Yes, do," said Penny Wise, looking kindly at the two girls. "Zizi,
perhaps you can be of use."
Zizi followed the other two, and they went to Eve's room. With all the
deftness of a nurse, Zizi found some aromatic cologne, and a fresh
handkerchief, and in a moment was bathing Eve's temples, with a gentle,
soothing touch.
"What a funny little piece you are!" said Eve, looking at the small
sympathetic face, and speaking in a preoccupied way.
"Yes," acquiesced Zizi, while Norma sat by, lost in her own thoughts.
"Tell me," said Eve, suddenly roused to energy. "Tell me, Zizi,--you know
as much as Mr. Wise does,--tell me, who paid Tracy money?"
"What!" cried Norma, "Eve, hush! don't say such things. If anybody did,
we don't want to know it!"
"We'll have to know it," said Eve, simply, "and, Norma,----"
But Norma interrupted her; "No, Eve, we don't have to, at least, we don't
have to ask about it, or inquire into it. The detective will do that."
"You'll soon _have_ to know," said Zizi, quietly; "indeed you know now,
don't you, Miss Carnforth?"
"I asked you!" cried Eve, hysterical again. "Tell me, tell me at once,
girl!"
But Zizi shook her head, and continued to bathe Eve's brow. "Try to be
calm," she whispered, "there will be much for you to bear, and you must
be brave to bear it."
Eve looked at her wonderingly, and seeing deep compassion in the black
eyes, she ceased questioning and closed her own eyes.
After a few moments, she opened her eyes and rose from her couch. "Thank
you, Zizi," she said, "I am all right now. I am going back to join the
others. Will you come, Norma?"
Dazedly, as one in a dream, Norma rose, and the three went down stairs.
Apparently little had been said of importance since they left. There was
a tense silence, and Pennington Wise said, "I find I must speak out and
tell you the truth. I had hoped for a confession but I see no signs of
it.
"I was not, strictly speaking, employed by any one of you. I asked to be
allowed to investigate this case because it seemed to me the most
remarkable one I had ever heard of. I wrote to Professor Hardwick for
information concerning it, and finally I arranged to come up here. I
brought Zizi, because she is invaluable to me in collecting evidence. Her
quick wit, and her dainty personality can compass effects that I can not.
I feel, therefore, that it is to Professor Hardwick that I should make my
direct report. But as you are all interested, I will ask any of you who
choose to do so, to remain and listen. The others may be excused."
"Of course, we'll all stay!" exclaimed Landon. "We're all quite as much
interested as Professor Hardwick can possibly be. More so, indeed, for
the victims of the crime are not relatives of his."
"Very well," returned Wise, "stay, then, all of you. The story is not a
long one, though it is a deeply sad one. John Tracy was hired,--basely
hired, to commit those two murders. The man who hired him is, of course,
the greater criminal, though his hands are unstained with actual blood.
The man who hired the assassin, is, naturally, the man who desired the
large fortune of Gifford Bruce, and who realized that unless two people
were removed from earth he could not inherit. Need I say more?"
"You need not," said Rudolph Braye. "I confess. The plan was Tracy's, the
suggestion was his. He tempted me, by telling me that he had read of a
plan by which people could be put to death and leave no possible trace.
He said that I would eventually inherit the fortune, and that I ought to
have it while I was young enough to enjoy it. He said he would do the
deed and I need know nothing about it, nor be present at the time. I am
not shifting the blame, I am merely telling you the facts."
Braye spoke in a monotone, his eyes on the floor, his hands nervously
twitching.
"A hundred times I regretted our plans, a hundred times I begged Tracy to
give up the project, but he held me to it, and said if I petered out he
would tell the whole story.
"When the plan for coming up here was started, Tracy made me get him
invited saying it was an ideal opportunity. I didn't think he would
really carry out his intentions, and as the ghost seemed really to
appear, I watched to discover the means. I did see Stebbins enter through
the revolving column and had no difficulty in discovering how it worked.
I showed this to Tracy,--he made me do so,--and when I went to New York,
he played ghost and appeared to little Vernie.
"Again and again I plead with him to give up the fearful scheme but he
refused to do so. The day I went to East Dryden with Milly I had no idea
that he intended to do the deed, but--he did. I had promised him half the
fortune, and he had declared that there could be no suspicion of either
of us,--he said, if there were any suspicion it would be directed toward
Wynne. I make no excuses, I voice no cry for forgiveness or for leniency,
but I hereby pay the penalty."
Braye swallowed what was evidently a portion of the same poison that had
killed Gifford Bruce, and in less than a minute he was a dead man.
John Tracy was arrested and received his just deserts.
Wynne Landon inherited the fortune, and though it had painful
associations, he and Milly went away from Black Aspens never to return
and in time lived down the sad and awful memories.
"You see, Penny," Zizi summed up, "a criminal always slips up on some
minor count. If the Tracy person hadn't oiled his door and the door of
that haunted room so carefully, or if he'd had the wit to oil some other
doors too, we might have overlooked him as a possible suspect, eh?"
"I don't think so, Ziz."
"Neither do I, Penny Wise."
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Obvious typographical errors were corrected without note.
Non-standard spellings and dialect were left unchanged.