MR. CONVERSE APPEARS AS CHORUS
Early the next morning Mr. Mountjoy, the district attorney, and the
Coroner were seated in the former's office with a flat desk between
them. Upon this set forth in orderly array, were the letters,
papers, and other personal effects gleaned from the pockets of the
dead man; dominating the whole was the sinister and grewsome little
silver blade,--Doctor Westbrook's paper-knife.
The regard of both officials rested upon it as they meditated and
waited for the Captain.
Remove those bloodstains and the weapon became a dainty toy, but
withal a dangerous one. The point was like a needle's, and
terminated a slender, tapering blade, silver-like in its brightly
polished steel, two-edged, and of indubitable fineness. The guard, a
solid piece of beautifully engraved gold, was shaped somewhat like a
Cupid's bow, while the hilt, of silver, was decorated with an
intricate, graceful pattern of chasing, inlaid with gold, and
surrounding a scroll upon which was engraved in script the single
word:
Paquita
The chasing, in addition to being an exquisite work of art, possessed
also the utility of supplying an excellent purchase for any hand
grasping it.
And what hand was upon that pretty hilt when last it was held in
anger? Whose fingers had tightened slowly over the dainty feminine
name, as the unsuspecting victim approached? Did "_Paquita_" contain
a hidden charm--some invisible potency--to guide the hand to its
hideous, self-appointed task?
Alas, if it could but tell! If, instead of the prænomen, redolent as
it was of fresh maiden innocence, the scroll had borne some word
pointing to the assassin! And yet, after all, could it be possible
that the momentous intelligence actually was there, and only human
eyes were blind? If such be the case, it will require a vision more
than human to seek it out and read what is there written. Surely;
for the weapon bore no other mark or testimony.
The District Attorney's voice disturbed the quiet.
"It is an amazing thing," said he, in a speculative tone, "what a
nice tangle this case is beginning to promise. Relate the bare
facts, as we know them, to any disinterested person, and he would
instantly say that Mobley Westbrook committed the deed. To be
suddenly come upon, a smoking dagger in your hand--standing over a
dying man--the provocation supplying a motive--and all that--h-m-m!
pretty bad."
But Mr. Mount joy the next instant laughed in a way that signified it
to be the height of absurdity to think of Doctor Westbrook as a
murderer.
"There is not a phase or side of the man's character," he continued,
"with which the crime can be made to fit. I can more easily imagine
Mobley Westbrook--but of course I know him so well that personal bias
influences me largely in his favor. It would require evidence quite
conclusive, though, to move me to proceed against him. It's queer,
anyhow, a family of their quiet, humdrum respectability being mixed
with an affair of this nature, even remotely; there is more behind it
than we now imagine; and I believe there will be plenty of work for
one John Converse."
As if this colloquy had been a scene on a stage, and the two last
words a cue, the door opened, and the Captain of detectives himself
entered. He walked to the desk with manner quiet and deferential,
gravely returning the salutations of the two officials seated there.
"Here's John to speak for himself," said the Coroner.
"Theseus has come to lead us from this labyrinth of mystery," laughed
Mr. Mountjoy. "Silent and enigmatical servant of Destiny, who knows
what momentous knowledge is hidden behind that impassive exterior?
John, are you ready to point the stern and unrelenting finger of
denunciation at the guilty wretch, and say, 'Thou art the man!'?"
But the Captain did not respond to the lawyer's bantering humor.
Instead, he seated himself on one side of the table, remarking merely:
"Gentlemen, this is a very serious case."
"Serious!" cried the District Attorney, his mood in no wise changing.
"Serious? which is but one method of informing us that there has been
a dearth of clues." He suddenly leaned forward, rested his elbows
upon the table, and interlocked his slender fingers. "Come, John,
what have you discovered?" he concluded more soberly.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN CONVERSE WAS ENDOWED WITH THE IMPASSIVENESS OF
AN INDIAN, NOR COULD ONE IMAGINE HIM AGITATED IN ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.]
For answer Mr. Converse drew forth his large and well-worn
pocket-book, from which he took one by one, and laid upon the desk,
two slips of paper, a small hairpin, two half-consumed
cigarettes--the paper of which was a dark brown, like butcher's
wrapping-papers--and lastly, a dainty bit of cambric and lace, to
which clung a delicate odor of stephanotis,--a lady's handkerchief.
Mr. Merkel adjusted his spectacles; the District Attorney became
wholly serious; and together they bent over the grotesque assortment,
staring as though the mystery might be disclosed then and there.
Presently both sat back in their chairs, and turned expectantly to
Converse.
"Well, sir," he began gravely, "I believe we must look to a certain
lady for a detailed account of her connection with this case."
"A woman!" ejaculated the lawyer. "Well, I am not surprised; it
could not promise much without a woman--no more than that affair of
the Garden could have been without Eve.... And do you know who she
is?"
Mr. Converse raised a protesting hand.
"No," said he; "not yet. But a woman was in Mr. Nettleton's offices
so close to the time the crime was committed that her presence is
quite the most important factor at present--that, and Clay
Fairchild's disappearance."
Both listeners showed their astonishment.
"So that young Fairchild has disappeared, has he?" remarked Mr.
Merkel. "I always thought he was a steady sort of chap. But you can
never tell about these young fellows, especially when they get
tangled with a woman. I wonder who she is?" he added, musingly, and
colored when Mr. Mountjoy laughed.
"That is just a puzzling feature of the thing," the Captain resumed.
"I have had no trouble in securing a complete record of the young
man's private life, and it proves to be unexceptionably clean. No
woman figures in it to any great extent. Young Fairchild is very
poor; but he is the head of one of these old families here, and is on
a footing with people like the Westbrooks, the Nettletons, and their
class, that a great many with more money can't boast of. He is one
of 'the quality'; and though his poverty prevents him from figuring
at all in society, he is nevertheless a frequent visitor in many of
the best homes in the city."
"Aye, I know those Fairchilds," said Mr. Mountjoy, nodding his head
slowly; "fine old stock, but dropped from sight since Dick, the
scamp, went smash. There's a girl, too, isn't there? Mother an
invalid? Thought so. Proceed, John."
"It appears that he was always a studious boy," Mr. Converse went on,
"and there is only one thing that seems to be in his disfavor. It is
this: although he has been acting as Mr. Nettleton's clerk and
stenographer, and is a notary public, he entered Mr. Nettleton's
office for the purpose of studying law. Now, Mr. Nettleton says that
while young Fairchild was diligent in his duties, and possessed of no
bad habits, he disappointed his patron by evincing a lack of interest
in his studies, which he gradually came to neglect. It seems that he
has literary aspirations, and his present vocation is a necessity.
His mother and sister, excepting for a little property belonging to
the latter, are both dependent on him, and he has always been
particularly solicitous of their welfare. I must confess that his
lighting out the way he has, and our failure to find the slightest
trace of his whereabouts, coupled with the circumstance of the woman,
are at present very puzzling. But we will get to this later; we can
secure a better grasp of the entire situation by commencing at the
beginning.
"Well, when De Sanchez entered the Nettleton Building yesterday
evening there were in the east end of the second floor at least five
persons,--Doctor Mobley Westbrook, who was in his reception-room;
Fairchild, who was in one or the other of Mr. Nettleton's rooms; Mr.
Ferdinand Howe, who was in the Doctor's laboratory; William Slade,
who was in Room 6; and some woman. Mr. J. Howard Lynden entered the
building only a few seconds after De Sanchez, and both were bound for
the Doctor's office. It is self-evident that the criminal was
present also, and I can account for no one else. Indeed, unless the
witnesses were blind or are now resorting to deliberate falsehood, it
is absolutely impossible that any person besides those indicated
could have been present.
"Of the six individuals named we may at once drop Slade and Howe,
leaving us Fairchild, the woman, Doctor Westbrook, and Lynden to be
considered as possibilities.
"Beginning with Fairchild, and in connection with the lady, I will
preface what I have to say with the statement that his place in the
case is very difficult to determine; but that it is at least of great
moment, I am convinced.
"For the present there is only a hypothetical motive for his curious
behavior; but he was in the neighborhood of the crime at the time of
its commission, and did not leave the building until several minutes
afterward--and then under very peculiar circumstances. The
hypothetical motive by which I shall try to explain his conduct is
affection for the woman.
"Now, the hall dividing the rooms in the eastern wing of the
Nettleton is just twelve feet wide, and we may take it as an
established fact that the blow was delivered between Doctor
Westbrook's entrance and the hall door to Mr. Nettleton's private
office, the two doors being directly opposite each other. We may
even go a bit farther and say that De Sanchez was closer to the
Doctor's door, for, owing to the nature of the wound, all volition
was immediately removed from the deceased's movements. The act of
his falling through the door would indicate that he had already
turned to enter the Doctor's office, was close to it, and was
projected through the doorway simply by the momentum of the speed at
which he had been walking. That gives us four possible routes
whereby the murderer could have come into contact with his victim at
the spot mentioned, and it is necessary to bear these in mind:
"1. Through the hall from the stairway;
"2. From Doctor Westbrook's office;
"3. Through the window at the end of the hall, which opens into the
light-well; and
"4. Through Mr. Nettleton's private office.
"Assuming the truth of all the statements, the story I obtained from
Lynden obviates the first; number two we will set aside on the
strength of Doctor Westbrook's statement, partially corroborated by
Howe. Regarding the third route--that is to say, the hall window
opening into the light-well--we have two persons who were looking
into the light-well from two different points, from about five
minutes before, and during the time the deed was committed, until
several seconds thereafter. These two are Mr. Howe and Judge Elihu
Petty, of Petty & Carlton, who was looking from his window in the
Field Building, diagonally across from where Howe was standing. Both
these gentlemen are positive that no one entered or left the
Nettleton hall window, and that there was no movement of any kind at
any of the other windows during the time they were looking into the
light-well. Indeed, it seems impossible that there could have been
under the circumstances. Looking from any of the windows mentioned,
the entire light-well is within one's range of vision; and while it
is true that twilight had set in, it was by no means dark or even
nearly so when the deed was committed; and we may assume that it was
impossible for anybody to have entered the hall by way of the
light-well without attracting the attention of either Howe or Judge
Petty.
"Fortunately we have a basis from which to estimate the exact time
the blow was struck, and, in fact, all the other known incidents in
this affair. That was the five o'clock whistles. We may set it
down, then, as another established fact, that the blow was delivered
in not to exceed four seconds of that hour. Howe knows the exact
time he took up his position at the laboratory window; it was there
he was standing when De Sanchez fell through the reception-room door,
and at that moment he heard the whistles begin blowing. Judge Petty
remembers the circumstance also, and connects it with Howe's sudden
disappearance from the laboratory window; and Doctor Westbrook is now
able to recall the fact of the whistles blowing being coincident with
the deceased's tragic entrance.
"These facts confine us to Mr. Nettleton's private office to seek a
solution, and there we find a number of circumstances justifying a
closer examination.
"The facts here warrant the following assumptions: That between
four-thirty and five o'clock yesterday afternoon, Clay Fairchild and
some woman--name unknown--were in Mr. Nettleton's offices; that Mr.
Fairchild did not depart until after five o'clock; that the lady was
familiar with the arrangement of the second floor; that so far we
know no one who either saw her enter the building, or saw her while
she was inside it, or saw her leave; that she went into Mr.
Nettleton's private office from the hall, where she stood behind the
door for a while; that she next tiptoed on through to Mr. Nettleton's
general office, where she stopped again at the connecting door, close
by Fairchild's desk, at which point, in her agitation, she dropped
this handkerchief into the waste-paper basket. She then made her way
to the hall door of Mr. Nettleton's general office, where she again
stopped behind the door, as though waiting for some one to pass.
"Now, if this woman was the assassin, her actions are easily
explained. She stood behind the private office door--whence, with
the door ajar, one has a view down the length of the hall to the
stairway--and awaited the victim's approach; just as he turned to
enter the Doctor's office she sprang out and administered the death
wound,--in such haste to get back that she made no effort to recover
the weapon, but hurried on through Mr. Nettleton's office to the hall
door of the general office. Here warning footsteps announce that
there is some one else in the hall, and standing close to the
partially opened door, with her hand on the knob, she waits until
Lynden passes. It is but a second after that he is standing at the
threshold of the Doctor's open door, overcome by the scene it
discloses, and both deaf and blind for a moment to all else. She
takes advantage of that moment to pass on down the hall to the
stairway, and so out of the building, probably unobserved by any one
except Fairchild. An agile person would have had just about time
before Lynden appeared at the head of the stairs to strike such a
blow as killed De Sanchez, and then either spring into the light-well
or run into Mr. Nettleton's office.
"Now, all this could not have happened without Fairchild's knowledge,
and we are not lacking light on his participation in the murder under
the theory I am now unfolding.
"Under the circumstances, knowledge can mean only connivance. The
known facts coincide precisely, and explain every hypothesis upon
which this theory is based; and to get at his connection with the
affair, please observe these two bits of paper."
Mr. Converse unfolded one of them, and flattened it on the desk, and
as he did so, asked:
"Is it not singular that two men, apparently unknown to each other,
should have betrayed interest in Doctor Westbrook's paper-knife in an
identical manner? But such is the fact.
"This one was torn from a sheet of typewriter paper, such as
Fairchild uses; I found it on his desk. Here we have a fairly good
drawing of the dagger in question, made painstakingly, and as though
to illustrate a verbal description. But he drew it from memory, as a
close inspection of the sketch will indicate. He has either omitted
or distorted several little details which not only appear quite plain
on the dagger itself, but are quick to catch the observer's notice.
But most convincing of this circumstance are the words alongside the
picture blade in Fairchild's handwriting, 'about 6 inches.' The
blade is, in reality, exactly five inches long: then why, if he had
it before him, together with the office ruler, which lay on the desk,
should he have guessed at the blade's length?
"This other came from Doctor Westbrook's desk in the reception-room.
It is widely different from Fairchild's drawing, and was made by a
person who is something of an artist. Furthermore, he had the weapon
before him, for the intricate design on the hilt is copied
faithfully; besides, many trifling details, such as the peculiar
shape of the little knobs at each end of the guard, the script in
which the word 'Paquita' is engraved, are all rendered exactly in the
sketch. From it we are even able to form an idea when it was drawn:
some time on the evening of November third, or the day before the
murder. So we may say that the weapon had not been removed from the
Doctor's table prior to that time. Observe this spattered blot and
the hole in the paper beneath it. That was caused by the artist
bringing the pen down on the paper with such force that the pen
broke, the ink was spattered, and the paper perforated as you now see
it.
"Doctor Westbrook has four penholders on this table; but he is so
partial to a particular one of them that he invariably selects it in
preference to the other three when he wishes to write. He used it
about four o'clock Tuesday afternoon--the third--and did not have
occasion to use it again till yesterday evening, when he started to
write the letter to De Sanchez. Then he discovered that the point
was bent and broken; and we may infer the sketch to have been made
between four o'clock on the afternoon of the third and five o'clock
last evening.
"During that time a score or more of people were in and out of the
Doctor's office, and we have no handwriting to guide us in this
instance, as the word 'Paquita' here is a faithful copy of the script
in the scroll--too faithful to betray many individualities. But
still, it is easy to infer who sketched this dagger. Observe the
blot again: it is located immediately at the end of the word
'Paquita,' and was made just as the artist concluded that word. Now,
what emotions would cause one to so maltreat a pen? Anger or
impatience,--the two being very near akin. It follows there was some
suggestion in the word 'Paquita' which angered the artist; and this
immediately suggested to me the man Vargas.
"On the evening of the third he called at Doctor Westbrook's offices
in company with Señor de Sanchez. He and the latter were negotiating
the deal involving the deed and the shares of stock in the Paquita
Gold Mining Company, and, as I have found out, Vargas was having some
difficulty in closing the matter. Only that afternoon had they come
to an understanding; but De Sanchez had not yet delivered the papers.
Vargas was becoming very anxious and impatient over the delay of
getting them into his possession. When they called on the Doctor
Tuesday evening, the latter and De Sanchez retired to the
consultation-room, leaving Vargas in the reception-room, and as he
sat idly at the table his eye was caught by the dagger, and he fell
to sketching it. The word 'Paquita' on the hilt brings suddenly to
mind his anxiety and impatience; and by a natural, involuntary
gesture he ruins the Doctor's pen and blots the drawing.
"I will interpolate here, so that we may dismiss him, that this
person Vargas attracted my attention owing to the very fact of his
presence in the city at this time, his association with deceased, and
the coincidence of the name 'Paquita' occurring both on the
dagger-hilt and as the name of the mining company. But I have been
able to follow the negotiations between the two, and to trace
Vargas's movements all yesterday afternoon, and each succeeding fact
tends cumulatively to absolve him from any participation in the
affair. Warren, a clerk at the La Salle House, knew of the deal;
both parties frequently talked about it in his presence; and it
evidently was just what it appears to be. We are extremely fortunate
in having this unprejudiced witness to save confusion upon this
particular point. On the afternoon of Tuesday De Sanchez and Vargas
approached him in rather an elated mood, and invited him to join them
in a bottle of wine to celebrate the consummation of the
negotiations. Right there, you see, this deal is removed from the
chance of being a motive. As the party separated, De Sanchez
mentioned half-past four on the following afternoon, yesterday, as
the hour for delivering the papers. Vargas was on hand promptly at
the appointed time, but the other was not; and after waiting, with
growing impatience, the former left the hotel and did not return
until about six o'clock. But it is not probable that he entered the
Nettleton Building near the time of the murder, for it would have
been utterly impossible for him to do so without being seen; and he
was still awaiting De Sanchez when informed of his death by the
clerk, Warren. Then he hastened to Doctor Westbrook's offices.
"Now, let us return to Fairchild. I learned a fact of some
importance from the Doctor this morning. Yesterday, as he was
leaving his office at about one o'clock, he met Fairchild at the
reception-room entrance; the latter, in a hurried manner, asked
Doctor Westbrook if he could borrow the dagger for a few minutes, to
which the Doctor assented. Doctor Westbrook continued on out, not
giving the matter another thought, while Fairchild went into the
reception-room. The Doctor don't know whether he got the dagger
then; as a paper-knife, the Doctor uses it only to cut magazines or
books, or the little papers in which he puts up powders--and often,
when it is not right at hand, he resorts to his pocket-knife, rather
than hunt for it in the mass of magazines and papers that usually
litter his table. It could easily be absent from its place several
days without his missing it.
"Mr. Nettleton left his office yesterday afternoon at four-thirty,
and he had no lady callers during the entire day; hence the following
assumption--for want of a better one--will fit the present theory:
During the noon hour, while Mr. Nettleton was at lunch, Fairchild and
the woman were together; the crime was contemplated and discussed
between them, the man volunteering to secure the weapon; which he
did, but was surprised by encountering the Doctor, who generally goes
out to make his visits at that time of day.
"However, she was the active spirit; hers was the hand that held the
weapon, while the more timid man waited at his desk in the adjoining
room. There she paused in her flight, and told him the deed had been
committed; and there he waited until about a quarter-past five, when,
moved by that irresistible impulse which leads some murderers to
gloat over their handiwork, he crossed the hall and looked upon the
dead man. This happened while Lynden was on his way to headquarters
with the news of the murder. Fairchild's actions were so singular
that they attracted both Doctor Westbrook's and Howe's attention.
Overcome with horror, he turned and fled without a word. That is the
last seen of Clay Fairchild, and that is why I sent a note to Barton
and Adams, who were waiting below, to find him.
"Under this theory I can as yet conjecture but a single
motive--Fairchild's interest in the woman; and as to what hers is, we
must wait until her identity is established."
Converse paused. His eyes narrowed, and he ran the tip of his tongue
across his lips with a deliberate lateral movement.
"I'd like very much to lay my hand on that fair lady," said he,
presently, in a quiet manner; but an observer might have remarked
that a shudder convulsed the corpulent figure of Mr. Merkel, and that
Mr. Mountjoy shot at him a quick, keen look, and then nodded his head
in silent approval.
The Captain went on at once.
"There is one incongruous element in this theory, however. When the
blow was struck the deceased was in the act of turning toward Doctor
Westbrook's door, and consequently his back was almost squarely
presented to Mr. Nettleton's. The wound, as you know, is not only on
the left side of the throat, but tends backward toward the spinal
column, which the point of the blade penetrated. Suspended from the
centre of the hall, and on a line with the centre of the two
doorways, is an electric light. Now, then, the murderer coming from
behind the victim could, under the present circumstances, strike the
blow in one of two ways: it was either a left-handed person, or, if
right-handed, the murderer must have stepped to deceased's left, and
a little in front of him, facing in the same direction, and struck to
the right and backward. If the latter theory is correct, the
murderer would have been between De Sanchez and the hall window
opening into the light-well, and so close to the window that he--or
she, if it was a woman--would have been not only plainly visible from
the windows on the opposite side of the light-well, but would have
cast a distinct shadow because of the electric light. If the
murderer was left-handed he would not have been obliged to go so far
to De Sanchez's left, and consequently would have remained so nearly
beneath the electric light that the only shadow would have been on
the hall floor.
"Now, from the point where Judge Petty was looking into the
light-well, one cannot quite see Doctor Westbrook's door through the
Nettleton hall window; but the hall window would be so far within
such a person's range of vision that the slightest obscuring of the
light would attract notice. Judge Petty recollects that the light
was burning at five o'clock yesterday evening, and he is positive
that there was no shadow at the hall window, and that no one
approached close to it while he was looking into the light-well.
"Now mark this--at least, as a singular coincidence--while Doctor
Westbrook is not what you might call left-handed, he can use both
hands equally well."
"Ambidextrous," suggested Mr. Mountjoy.
Converse nodded. "Exactly," said he; "ambidextrous." He continued:
"Regarding the woman's identity, now there are one or two little
points deserving special attention. Lynden states positively that he
neither saw nor passed anybody in the hall nor on the stairway; yet,
there was something about Mr. Nettleton's offices and the indications
of a woman's recent presence there that disturbed him strangely.
While in the very act of asserting that he had neither seen nor
passed anybody, he stopped as though struck by a sudden doubt,
although he did not alter his statement. A similar incident happened
with Howe while we were all gathered in the Doctor's office last
night after the murder. He also paused in the midst of a statement
that there was nothing to indicate who the assassin might be, and
Lynden was impressed by his hesitation, as though it reminded him of
his own. Are these gentlemen trying to conceal anything? What
possible object could Howe have in doing so? Yet I believe that both
of them are perturbed by some misgiving which they hesitate to put
into words. Their doubt may contain the key to the whole riddle; but
it will be a delicate matter getting at it. Assuming that it points
to the lady's identity, we may surprise one or the other of them into
betraying it; but it is no easy task to make a man speak of something
which he will not admit even to himself."