AT FOUR O’CLOCK.
“That was going some,” said Chick coolly.
Nick did not wait to make reply. He rushed the thicket whence the shots
had come, but arrived too late to find the would-be murderer there.
When Chick reached the spot, he found his chief down on his knees
examining the earth, lantern in hand.
As the assistant came up, Nick shut off the flash, and moved away from
the spot.
“Now,” said Chick, “that shows that there are people about here who are
implicated in the happenings of last night. They evidently think we are
getting too inquisitive.”
Nick walked on toward the house without making reply. He was thinking
fast. Once more his clues were pointing in a contrary direction.
“Those shots were intended to defend the murderer and not the diamond
thief,” he mused. “Now, I wonder if the people up here have fallen into
my trap?”
Arrived at the house, Nick and Chick, after a moment’s conversation
with Mrs. Maynard and Charley, proceeded to the second floor of the
mansion. Nick stopped at the head of the stairs with a smile on his
face. The stairs and the halls had been swept and washed during the
day, thus removing every trace of the record left by naked feet the
night before.
Nick hastened to the closet in Anton’s room. When he came out again,
the smile on his face had broadened. His next move was to visit the
hallway used by the servants in reaching the rooms over the main part
of the house. This, too, had been cleaned, and tiny marks which Nick
had observed on the door in the morning had been obliterated. In one
place the paint had been partially rubbed from the door casing in
scrubbing off a stain. The detective turned toward the lower part of
the house.
“The case up here is closed,” he said.
Chick opened his eyes, but said nothing.
Nick went to the back end of the house and asked for Bernice.
“She’s gone,” said one of the servants.
“Gone where?”
“To the city,” was the reply.
Nick smiled and turned away. He remembered distinctly of having caught
a glimpse of the girl at one of the upper windows just before entering
the orchard, perhaps five minutes before the shooting.
“She went away two hours ago,” said the servant, a young girl who
seemed devoted to the maid. “I saw her take the train.”
Nick thought he knew why the girl had been hiding in the house, and why
she had instructed the servant to tell of her departure. He turned to
his assistant.
“Bernice may try to take the next train,” he said. “Now, I want to talk
with her before she gets off, and I wish you would watch the depot and
see that she remains here at least until morning.”
“But she has already gone,” said Chick.
“You may find her hiding about the station,” said Nick. “The girl is
frightened half to death. Anton thinks she has the diamonds.”
“I don’t understand,” said Chick, but Nick would talk no more, so the
assistant set out to the depot.
Nick then asked for Mrs. Maynard, and together they ascended to
the maid’s room. The old lady was trembling violently, and it was
with difficulty that Nick got her into the room. The results of the
interview were far-reaching.
“Where is Bernice?” asked the old lady, at the close of the talk.
“She is waiting to get to New York,” was the reply.
“Yes, she asked permission to go, some time in the afternoon,” said the
old lady, “and it was granted. The poor girl is half crazed.”
Nick smiled and escorted Mrs. Maynard back to the parlor.
“The case is clearing,” he thought. “If I only had a line on the
whereabouts of the diamonds!”
At this moment Charley Maynard entered the parlor, which Nick was about
to leave.
“There are strange doings about here,” he said. “Who did the shooting?”
“All in good time,” said Nick. “There is little use in discussing
suspicions.”
“Do you think the diamonds are still in this house?” asked the young
man.
“I know that they are not,” was the reply.
In a few words Nick explained the events of the afternoon in the city.
Charley gave an exclamation of vexation.
“If the sailors stole the diamonds,” he said, “and gave them to the
agent, and some one unknown and untraceable stole them from the agent,
what chance do I have of ever getting them back? If the sailors, who
were in the house for a felonious purpose, did not murder my uncle,
who did? I think we are further from the end of the case than when we
began.”
“If I have my usual luck,” replied Nick, “you shall hear the end of the
case before another sunrise.”
“Then you must know exactly what you are doing,” said Charley. “I am
sure that no one else does.”
“Right you are,” replied Nick. “There is one chance in two that I have
located the diamonds. Be patient until the time for the disclosure
comes.”
Charley went grumbling off to his room, and Nick sat on the porch or
wandered about in the moonlight until three o’clock. Then he went
toward the station, taking a roundabout path. He had heard nothing from
Chick since he had left the house early in the evening.
The detective did not go straight to the station, but stopped in a
thicket of evergreens that bordered a fence not far from the little
railroad house. From his hiding place he had a full view of the back of
the building, and also of the window of the little store under which so
many things had taken place the night before. As Nick lay down to await
the arrival of the train, Chick crept up and laid a hand on his arm.
“I saw you coming,” he said. “What’s new up at the house?”
“The end of the case lies here,” said Nick. “We have done with the
house end of the murder and the robbery.”
“Well, you’ve got me guessing,” said Chick.
“Did the maid show up?” asked Nick.
“She’s hanging about in the shrubbery somewhere. Why should she do
that?”
“She’s afraid she’ll be arrested for doing the shooting, and for other
things,” said Nick.
“She do the shooting!” said Chick. “Impossible!”
“Don’t form conclusions, yet,” said Nick.
“It appears to me that you are doing that very thing,” said Chick.
“The girl hasn’t seen you, has she?” asked Nick.
“I think not. I have not been out in the open, and she has usually been
between me and the station. She’s shy of being seen, I can tell you
that.”
“Now,” said Nick, “the train is coming. Move down to the front, keeping
out of sight, and get where you can see the whole length of the line of
cars. If a man gets off, you follow him, but keep out of sight. If I
point to any person who gets on the train, jump aboard and arrest him
before the arrival at New York.”
“If the girl joins him?” asked Chick. “I presume that is what all this
means.”
“The girl will not join him,” was the reply. “She may try to, but she
will not succeed.”
“Who is this man?” asked Chick.
Nick laughed.
“To be honest with you,” he said, “I don’t know that there is any man.
The girl may be waiting here to sneak away on the train, though it
seems strange that she would wait until this hour, when early trains
stop here. A girl met a man here last night, and she may meet him again
to-night. It looks to me as if that girl was Bernice. We shall soon
know if I have doped the case wrong. Here comes the train.”
Chick glided through the shrubbery, and came out at the front of the
locomotive, keeping under the headlight. By moving about a little he
could see along both sides of the line of cars. Presently he saw a man
step off the smoking-car platform, on the side opposite the station. He
dodged the lighted windows and ducked away to the right, where a patch
of bushes hid a view of the field beyond. Chick was not far behind him.
He was wondering if Nick was prepared for this, but in a moment he
understood.
Bernice came out of the copse to meet the man, and a rustle of bushes
off to the right told Chick that his chief was there, observing the
interview.
Chick could not get near enough to hear what was being said, but it
looked to him as if Nick was better placed. As the starting bell rang,
Chick saw the man take something from his purse and pass it over to
Bernice.
Then the man moved toward the train, with the girl facing in the same
direction.
Chick then saw his chief rise up out of the bushes and point to the man
who was making for the train. As the fellow sprang upon the lighted
platform, Chick mounted the steps of the now moving train, and took a
seat in the smoker. He was bound to obey orders, though he knew little
of the significance of his own actions.
As the train moved off, Bernice skirted the station building and
started off toward the house at a swift walk. Nick, who had heard
considerable of the girl’s talk with the man, followed close behind her.
Arriving on the house grounds, she passed around to the kitchen door,
which was opened at her knock. Some one had evidently been waiting for
her. Nick moved up to a window, and looked in. The servant girl he had
before talked with stood in front of the maid, a lighted lamp in her
hand. The maid’s hand bag lay on a table between them.
As Nick waited, the girls moved into the pantry, as if to get a
luncheon, and Nick hastened back to the door, which he found unfastened.
The lamp was still in the pantry when the detective opened the outer
door and looked into the kitchen. He crept in, seized the hand bag, and
hastened out again.
Stationing himself at the window again, Nick saw the girls leave the
pantry.
“I thought I heard a noise out here,” said Bernice.
“It was the wind,” said the girl, offering the usual threadbare
explanation.
Bernice approached the table.
“Where is my hand bag?” she asked.
“I haven’t got it,” was the reply.
“You saw me lay it here?”
“Yes.”
“Some one has stolen it,” said the maid, terror showing in her face.
“Have you seen Anton about here to-night?”
“He has not been here,” was the reply. “Do you think he would steal it?”
“I am sure of it,” replied the maid. “Oh, what shall I do? It means
ruin to lose that hand bag now!”
“You can buy another,” said the girl stupidly.
“But the contents!” cried the maid. “I can’t replace them!”
“Shall I go to Anton’s room and see if he is there?” asked the girl.
“Yes—no! Oh, what shall I do? Perhaps I had better go myself.”
Bernice moved away, followed by the servant, and Nick opened the
kitchen door again, and entered. He followed the girls through the
dining room into a hall from which ran the stairs connecting with the
servants’ hall on the second floor.
Bernice mounted the stairs and soon stood at the door which opened into
the main hall, which ran in front of the room where the murder had been
committed.
“I can’t bear to go in there,” Nick heard her whisper.
“The body is not there,” said the servant. “It is in the large room
back of the library, and the watchers are there with it.”
Bernice opened the door and started in. Then she shrank back, and said
to the girl:
“You go, Nancy, and see if there is a light in Anton’s room.”
The girl returned presently, and said that there was a light there.
“Then you remain here,” said Bernice, “and I’ll go and see him. Don’t
you stir until I return. Oh, what shall I do?”
Nick heard the girl sobbing convulsively for a moment after she was
left alone. He waited no longer.
He advanced to where the girl stood, lamp in hand, and said:
“Go and awake your mistress and ask her to come to the parlor.”
“But I was told to remain here,” said the loyal servant.
“Bernice will be down in a moment,” said Nick.
As he spoke, the door of Anton’s room opened, and the young man and the
maid looked out.
“What’s wanted?” asked Anton.
“You are wanted in the parlor, both of you,” replied Nick. “Go on,
little girl, and tell your mistress to come.”
“What does this mean?” asked Bernice.
“Come to the parlor and find out,” replied Nick, stepping to the door
of the room occupied by Charley and knocking on the panels.
“Wake up, Charley,” he cried, “and come to the parlor. Your diamonds
have been found. Oh, you are dressed!” added Nick, opening the door. “I
thought you went to bed to get some sleep!”
“Sleep!” cried the young man; “I have been watching that door all
night!”
He pointed to Anton’s door.
“You have?” cried Anton. “Why should you watch my door?”
“Never mind that,” said Nick. “The truth is out, and the story will be
told in the parlor. You watched the wrong door, Charley.”
A few moments later an interesting group assembled in the great parlor
of the Maynard country house. Mrs. Maynard, Bernice, the small servant
girl, Charley Maynard, and Anton, with the detective, constituted the
party.
Bernice was deadly pale. Her eyes glared strangely about the room,
and her hands trembled violently. Anton took a chair at her side, and
seemed anxious to restore her self-command.
Mrs. Maynard looked with averted eyes at the couple. Charley was cool,
as usual, but his eyes were fixed reprovingly on the maid.
“You stated that the diamonds had been found,” he said, turning to
Nick. “I have suspected all along that they never left the house.”
“Is that the reason why you watched Anton’s door to-night?” asked Nick.
“It is,” was the reply.
Anton sprang excitedly to his feet.
“Remain quiet,” said Nick. “There is no need of temper here.”
“The coward!” cried Anton. “To insult me here in the presence of my
mother!”
“You were wrong in supposing that the diamonds were in the house,” said
Nick to Charley. “They were removed by two burglars last night, and
are now in New York.”
“Have the burglars been caught?” asked Anton eagerly.
“They have,” was the reply.
“And have confessed?” asked Charley.
Anton sank back in his chair.
“I don’t believe it,” declared Bernice.
“Where are the diamonds located?” asked Charley.
Nick opened his pocketbook and took out a key to which was attached a
brass tag.
“You stole my hand bag!” shouted Bernice.
Nick looked up with a smile on his face.
“One thing at a time,” he said. “Your diamonds, Charley, are now
located in deposit vaults on Broadway, in box number three thousand
eight hundred and seventy-nine, and this is the key thereof.”
Bernice looked like a girl about to commit murder.
“You thief!” she cried. “You stole my hand bag!”
“Yes,” replied Nick, “I did steal your hand bag. It is down in the
kitchen, behind the range. I have no further use for it.”
“Did you get this key from her hand bag?” demanded Charley.
Nick nodded.
“Then she stole the diamonds,” said Charley.
“You are wrong,” said the detective. “She did not steal the diamonds,
but she was prepared to do so, and she concealed all knowledge of their
whereabouts, for she knew this morning where they were.”
“It is false!” shouted Bernice. “Do you get us all up in the night to
tell us of these things? It is all a lie!”
“You will be claiming, presently,” said Anton, “that I murdered Alvin
Maynard.”
“You did,” said Nick coolly.
Again Anton sprang to his feet, but Nick lifted the muzzle of a
revolver to his breast, and he sat down again.
Mrs. Maynard bowed her head and sobbed audibly. Charley moved nearer to
the accused man. Bernice stared like one under a spell, first at Mrs.
Maynard and then at Anton, who sat with his eyes fixed reproachfully on
his mother.
Nick understood the meaning of that look, and said:
“Don’t blame your mother. I knew the truth before she confessed to the
scene in the dead man’s room last night.”
“You are a devil,” cried Bernice. “If I had only shot straight.”
“It would have been better for you if you had not shot at all,” said
Nick, “for that was what made me certain of your complicity in the
diamond robbery.”
“You lie! You lie! I know nothing about it,” shouted the girl.
“Wait,” said Nick coolly, “and I will tell the story of the robbery and
the murder.”