MR. WRANDALL PERJURES HIMSELF
Smith arrived at eleven, somewhat after the fashion of the Hawkshaws
of "yellow back" fame, who, if our memory serves us right, were so
punctual that their appearance anywhere was described as being in
the "nick o' time," only in this instance he was expected and did
not "drop from the sky," as the saying goes.
Mr. Wrandall met him at the station and escorted him in a roundabout
way to Southlook, carefully avoiding the main village thoroughfare
and High street, where the fashionable colony was intrenched. Mr.
Smith, being an experienced detective, was not surprised to find
(after the introduction), that Mr. Wrandall's attorney had been a
fellow-passenger from town. If he was impressed, he did not once
betray the fact during the four mile spin to Sara's. On the contrary,
he seemed to be entirely absorbed in the scenery.
Mr. Wrandall had said, without shaking hands: "We will repair at
once to Mrs. Challis Wrandall's house, Mr. Smith. She is expecting
you. I have informed her of your mission."
"I think we'd better discuss the matter between ourselves, Mr.
Wrandall, before putting it up to--"
"There is nothing in connection with this unhappy affair, sir, that
cannot be discussed first-hand with her," said his employer stiffly.
"Just as you like, sir," said Smith indifferently. "I have talked
it over with old man Carroll. He understands."
"I am quite sure he does, Mr. Smith," said the other, with emphasis.
Mr. Smith successfully hid a smile.
He took his seat beside the chauffeur.
"I am surprised," he observed to the driver, as a "feeler," "that
you haven't changed bodies."
"Mr. Wrandall ordered the limousine, sir," said the chauffeur.
"Oh, I see. Keeps it on hand for rainy days, I suppose."
"It's Mrs. Wrandall's idea," explained the man. "Women are fussy
about their hair. We always have a limousine handy."
"It is a handy thing to have about," said Mr. Smith drily, as he
looked out of the corner of his eye and remarked the two men behind
him. They were in very close conversation.
"The boss usually takes the other car. He likes the wind in his
face, he says. I don't know why he ordered the limousine to-day."
"Probably there's something in the wind to-day he doesn't like,"
remarked Smith, after which he devoted himself assiduously to the
road ahead, not being a practiced motorist.
As they were ascending the steps in Sara's exotic garden, Smith
ventured a somewhat sinister remark.
"These steps are not good for a man with a weak heart, Mr. Wrandall.
I hope yours is sound."
"Quite, Mr. Smith. Have no fear," said Mr. Wrandall, with an acute
sense of divination. "You will also find it to be in the right
place."
"Umph," said Mr. Smith.
Sara did not keep them waiting long in the morning room. She came
in soon after they were announced, followed by Mr. Carroll, who had
spent the night at Southlook. Hetty Castleton was not in evidence.
She motioned them to seats after Mr. Wrandall had ceremoniously
introduced his lawyer, and as unceremoniously neglected to do as
much for Smith.
"This is Mr. Smith, I presume," said she, with a slight uplifting
of her eyebrows. She took a chair facing the detective.
"Yes, my dear," said her father-in-law. "Joseph Smith."
"Benjamin, if you please," corrected Mr. Smith.
"I regret to state that my memory for names does not go back to
the Old Testament," said Wrandall, with a frosty smile.
"There are no Smiths in the Old Testament," said the detective
grimly.
"I understand, Mr. Smith, that you are prepared to charge me with
the murder of my husband."
She said it very quietly, very levelly. Smith was a bit staggered.
"Well, I--er--hardly that, Mrs. Wrandall," he said, disconcerted.
"Will you be good enough to come to the point at once?"
"My report in this matter, madam, is to be made to Mr. Wrandall
here, as I understand it," said the detective, his jaw stiffening.
"We don't, as a rule, report our findings to--well, to the person
we suspect. It isn't what you'd call regular. Mr. Wrandall has
employed me to make the investigation. He can hardly expect me to
reveal my findings to you."
"My dear Sara--" began Mr. Wrandall.
"As this is a rather intimate conference, Mr. Smith," interrupted
Sara, with a gracious smile for her father-in-law, "I fancy we have
nothing to gain, one way or another, by recriminations. You have
already consulted Mr. Carroll, and I have talked it over with Mr.
Wrandall. That was to have been expected, I believe. As I understand
the situation, you are somewhat curious to know just how much it
is worth to me to have the matter dropped."
Smith eyed her steadily.
"That is the case, precisely," he said briefly.
"Then you are not really interested in having the guilty person
brought to justice?"
"I am not an officer of the law, madam. I am a private individual,
working for private ends. It is for Mr. Wrandall to say whether my
discoveries shall be related in court. I respectfully submit that
I am acting within my rights. My deductions have been formed.
That is as far as I can go without his authority. He has offered a
reward, and he has gone farther than that by engaging us to devote
our time, brains and energies to the case. I am in this position at
present: our firm cannot accept the reward he has offered without
deliberately declaring to the world that we can put our hand on
the slayer of his son. As I cannot produce the actual proof that
we have found that person, I am in honour compelled to submit our
findings so far as they have gone, and then either to withdraw from
the matter or carry it on to the end, as he may elect. Our time
is worth something, madam. We have made a careful and exhaustive
investigation. We have come to the point where we can go no farther
without more or less publicly associating you with our theories.
I spoke to Mr. Carroll yesterday, it is true, and I am here to-day
to lay my facts before Mr. Wrandall--and his attorney, I see. Mr.
Carroll chose to call me a blackmailer. He may be correct in his
legal way of looking at it. But he is wrong in assuming that MY
motives are criminal. I submit that they are fair, open and above
board."
There was a moment's silence following this astonishingly succinct
summing up of his position. The three men had not taken their eyes
from his shrewd, frank face during that clever speech. They had
nothing to say. It had been agreed among them that Sara was to do
the talking. They were to do the watching.
"You put the case very fairly, Mr. Smith," said she seriously. "I
think your position is clear enough, assuming of course that you
have any real evidence to support your theories, whatever they may
be. I am perfectly free to say that you interest me."
"Interest you?" he said, in some exasperation. He had expected her
to fly into a passion. "Don't you take me seriously, madam?"
"As far as you have gone, yes."
Mr. Wrandall could hold in no longer. He was most uncomfortable.
"See here, Smith, out with it. Let us have your story. My
daughter-in-law is not in the least alarmed. You've been on the
wrong track, of course. But that isn't the point. What we want now
is to find out just where we stand."
"You put it in a rather compromising way, Mr. Wrandall. The pronoun
'we' is somewhat general, if you will permit me to say so. Do you
expect me to discuss my findings in the presence of Mrs. Wrandall
and her counsel?"
"Certainly, sir, certainly. You need have no hesitancy on that
score. I dare say you came here knowing that what you were to say
would go no further than these four walls."
"Would you say that, sir, if I were to submit proof that would
make it look so black for Mrs. Wrandall that you couldn't very well
doubt her complicity in the crime, even though you saw fit to let
it go no further than these four walls?"
Mr. Wrandall hesitated. A heavy frown appeared between his eyes;
his fingers worked nervously on the arm of the chair.
"I may say to you, Mr. Smith, that if you produce conclusive proof
I shall do my duty as a law-respecting citizen. I would not hesitate
on that score."
Sara looked at him through half-closed lids. His jaws were firmly
set.
Smith seemed to be reflecting. He did not speak for a long interval.
"In the first place, it struck me as odd that the man's wife did
not take more interest in the search that was made immediately
after the kill--after the tragedy. Not only that, but it is of
record that she deliberately informed the police that she didn't
care whether they caught the guilty party or not. Isn't that true?"
The question was directed to no one in particular.
It was Sara who answered.
"Quite true, Mr. Smith. And if it will interest you in the least,
I repeat that I don't care even now."
"You were asked if you would offer a reward in addition to the small
one announced by the authorities. Why didn't you offer a reward?"
"Because I did not care to make it an object for well-meaning
detectives to pry into the affairs of indiscreet members of society,"
she said.
"I see," said he reflectively. "May I be so bold as to ask why you
don't want to have the guilty punished?"
She looked at Mr. Wrandall before offering a reply to this direct
question.
"I can't answer that question without publicly wounding Mr.
Wrandall."
"We understand each other, Sara," said the old man painfully. "I
think you would better answer his question."
"Because my husband courted the fate that befell him, Mr. Smith.
That is my reply. While I do not know what actually transpired at
the inn, I am reasonably certain that my husband's life was taken
by some one who had suffered at his hands. I can say no more."
"The eye for an eye principle, eh?" There was deep sarcasm in the
way he said it. As she did not respond to the challenge, he abruptly
changed tactics. "Where were you on the night of the murder, Mrs.
Wrandall?"
She smiled. "I thought you knew, Mr. Smith."
"I have reason to believe that you were at Burton's Inn," he said
bluntly.
"But you wouldn't be at all sure about it if I said I wasn't there,
would you, Mr. Smith?"
"I don't quite get you, Mrs. Wrandall."
"I mean to say, if I made it worth your while to change your
opinion," she said flatly.
He cleared his throat. "You couldn't change my opinion, so there's
an end to that. You could stop me right where I am, if that's what
you mean. I'm perfectly frank about it, gentlemen. You needn't
look as if you'd like to kill me. I'm not anxious to go on with
the investigation. I don't know enough up to date to be sure of a
conviction, but I guess I could get the proof if it is to be found.
This is a family affair, I take it. Mr. Wrandall here doesn't want
to--"
Mr. Wrandall struck the arm of his chair a violent blow with his
clenched fist.
"You have no authority, sir, to make such a statement!" he exclaimed.
"I want it distinctly understood that I would give half of what I
possess to have the slayer of my son brought to justice."
"But you don't want this thing to go any further so far as Mrs.
Challis Wrandall is concerned," said Smith coolly.
"Of course not, you miserable scoundrel!" cried the other in a
rage. "She's no more guilty than I am."
"Don't call names, Mr. Wrandall," said Smith, a steely glitter in
his eyes. "I am prepared to lay before you certain facts that I
have unravelled, but I am not willing to give them to Mrs. Wrandall."
"My daughter-in-law spent the night at her own apartment, waiting
for my son," said Wrandall, regaining control of himself. "That is
positively known to me, sir. Positively!"
"How can you be sure of that, Mr. Wrandall?" asked Smith sharply.
The gaunt old face, suddenly very much older than it had been
before, took on a stern, defiant expression.
"I spoke with her over the telephone at half past nine o'clock that
night," said he steadily.
Smith was not the only one to be surprised by this startling
declaration. Sara Wrandall's eyes widened ever so slightly, and
one might have detected a sharp catch in her breath.
"She called you up?" asked Smith, after a moment to collect his
wits.
Mr. Wrandall was not to be trapped. He had made up his mind to
lie for Sara in this hour of need, and he had considered well his
methods.
"No. I called up the apartment."
"How did you know she was at her apartment?"
"I did not know it. I called up to speak with my son. She answered
the call, Mr. Smith."
He arose from the chair. Smith also came slowly to his feet, the
look of astonishment still on his face.
"And now, sir," went on the old man, levelling a bony finger at
him, "I think we can dispense with your services. I will give you
credit for one thing: you are plain-spoken and above board. You
want money and you don't beat about the bush. If you will instruct
your office to send to me a bill for services, I will pay it. I
engaged you, and I am ready to pay for my stupidity. My car will
take you back to the station."
Smith picked up his hat and fumbled with it for a moment, plainly
dismayed.
"If I have been on the wrong lead, Mr. Wrandall, I am willing
to drop it and start all over again. I suppose your reward still
stands. I am sure we can--"
"It does not stand, sir. I shall withdraw it this very day. God
knows if I had thought it would lead us to this pass, it should
never have been offered. Now, go, sir."
Smith held his ground doggedly. "There are a few points I'd like
to--"
"No!"
"For the sake of justice and--"
Sara interrupted the man. She had crossed to Mr. Wrandall's side,
a queer light in her eyes. Her hand fell upon his trembling old
arm and he felt a thrill pass from her warm, strong fingers into
the very core of his body.
"Mr. Smith, will you give me an off-hand estimate of what your
services amount to in dollars and cents up to date?"
"You don't owe me anything, Mrs. Wrandall," said Smith, flushing
a dull red.
"You came here to give me a chance, Mr. Smith, feeling that I was
actually implicated. You had a price fixed in your mind. You still
have your doubts, in spite of what Mr. Wrandall says. It occurred
to you that it would be worth considerable to me if the investigation
went no farther. You realised that you could not have brought this
crime home to me, because you could not have found REAL, satisfying
evidence. But you could have gone to the newspapers with your
suspicions, and you could have made one-half the world believe that
an innocent person was guilty of a foul crime. The world loves its
sensations. It would have gloated over the little you could have
given it, and it would have damned me unheard. I owe you something
for sparing me a fate so wretched as that. Your price: What is it?"
"Sara!" cried Mr. Wrandall, aghast.
"My dear Mrs. Wrandall," cried Carroll, blinking his eyes, "you
are not thinking of--"
"I am thinking of paying Mr. Smith his price," said Sara calmly.
"Why, damn it all," roared Carroll, "you countenance his ridiculous
assertions--"
"No; I do nothing of the sort, Mr. Carroll, and Mr. Smith knows it
quite as well as you do. He still has it in his power to set the
tongues to wagging. We can't get around that, gentlemen. I want to
pay him to drop the case entirely. The reward has been withdrawn.
Will it satisfy your cupidity, Mr. Smith, if I agree to pay to you
a like amount?"
"Good Lord!" gasped Smith, staggered.
"I cannot permit--" began Mr. Wrandall.
She looked him squarely in the eye and the words died on his lips.
"I prefer to have it my way," she said. "I will not accept favours
from Mr. Smith--nor any other man." Wrandall alone caught the
significance of the last four words. She would not accept the favour
of a lie from him! And yet she would not humiliate by denying him
in the presence of others. "Mr. Carroll will attend to this matter for
me, Mr. Smith, if you will call at his office at your convenience.
I shall make but a single stipulation in addition to the one
involved: you are to drop the case altogether. Mr. Wrandall has
already dismissed you. You are under no further obligations to him
or his family. I respectfully submit to all of you, gentlemen, that
when the investigations go so far astray as they have gone in this
instance, it isn't safe to let them continue with the possible chance
of proving unwholesome to other innocent persons, toward whom, in
some justice, attention might be drawn. The young woman now in the
far West is a sickening example. I refer to the Ashtley girl. If,
by any chance, the right person should be taken, I will do my part,
Mr. Wrandall, with the same purpose if not the same spirit that
actuates you, but I am opposed to baring skeletons to gratify
the morbid curiosity of a public that despises all of us because,
unhappily, we are what we are. I trust I make myself plain to you.
I loved my husband. I have no desire to know the names of women
who were his--we will say--who were in love with him."
Mr. Wrandall bowed his head and said not a word. His attorney, who
had been a silent listener from the beginning, spoke for the first
time.
"If Mr. Smith will call at my office to-morrow, I will attend to
the closing of this matter to his entire satisfaction. Mr. Wrandall
has already authorised me to settle in full for his time and--patience."
"I don't like to take money in this way--"
"We won't discuss ethics, Mr. Smith."
"Just as you like, then. I'm only too happy to be off the job. Good
morning, madam. Good morning, gentlemen."
He stalked from the room. Watson was waiting in the hall.
"This way," he said, indicating the big front door.
Smith grinned sheepishly. "'Gad, they don't even think I can find
a front door," he said.
Redmond Wrandall turned to the two men after he heard the door of
his automobile slam in the porte-cochere.
"Gentlemen, I believe it is unnecessary to announce to you that I
did not speak over the telephone with my daughter-in-law on that
wretched night," he said slowly.
They nodded their heads.
"I am not a good liar. Do you think the fellow believed me?"
"No," said Sara instantly. "He is accustomed to better lying than
you can supply. But it doesn't in the least matter. He knows, however,
that you spoke the truth when you said I was in my apartment, even
though you are not sure of it yourself, Mr. Wrandall. I will not
presume to thank you for what you did, but I shall never forget
it, sir."
He regarded her rather austerely for a moment. "I am glad you do
not thank me, Sara," he said. "You are not to feel that you are
under the slightest obligation to me."
"I regret that you felt it necessary to perjure yourself," she
said levelly, and then broke into a soft little laugh as she laid
her hand on his arm once more. "Come! Let us have a semi-public
view of Hetty's portrait."
He looked up alertly at the mention of the girl's name.
"By the way, where is Miss Castleton?" he asked, drawing a long
breath as if the air had suddenly become wholesome.
"She is back yonder in the living-room, having her last sitting
to Brandon Booth. Just a few finishing touches, that's all. I hear
them laughing. The day's work is done."
She led the way down the long hall, followed by the old gentlemen,
who came three abreast, hoary retainers at the heels of youth.