GROPING IN THE DARK
"How do you know he didn't?" snapped Miss Metoaca, sticking to her
theory with grim determination.
"Because Symonds declares there was no sign of confusion in the room
when he found the two men--one dead--one unconscious."
"Always Symonds!" grumbled Miss Metoaca disgustedly. "He is a regular
Jack-in-the-box. I don't care what he says. I firmly believe Major
Goddard is responsible for Lloyd's death, if he really _was_ killed,
which I think is open to doubt."
"I thought as you do at first," agreed the senator, "but I found on
closer examination that the theory would not hold water. In the first
place, Goddard, being blind, had, and has, to feel his way
about--probably had to grope around Lloyd's body to locate his
face--which would undoubtedly have aroused the sleeping man...."
"Wait a bit," interrupted Miss Metoaca. "Even if he did awaken Lloyd,
the latter would have thought nothing of finding his friend by his
bedside. They were roommates--and probably, after speaking to Goddard,
he rolled over and went to sleep again.
"Then there's another thing," pursued Miss Metoaca eagerly, as Warren
nodded a silent agreement to her statement. "Symonds declares Lloyd's
wallet was stolen. Why should Nancy take the book when all she needed
was the one single paper, which Stanton contends concerned her?
"Now, Major Goddard is blind. It was impossible for _him_ to pick out
that paper from others; therefore, he would have been forced to steal
the pocketbook."
"That appears plausible," admitted Warren, "but it is _just_ as
plausible to suppose that Nancy, fearing she would be discovered in
Lloyd's room, did not dare to stop and open the pocketbook there, and
so took it away with her."
"You seem mighty anxious to believe Nancy took the despatch," commented
Miss Metoaca, and disappointment lent bitterness to her voice.
"You mistake me," protested Warren warmly. "I will do my utmost to
clear Nancy of these terrible charges; but I fear there is no use
trying to prove Goddard guilty. After Symonds discovered the pocketbook
was missing, he and Doctor Ward searched Goddard's clothing, as well as
the room, but found no trace of the book or the despatch."
"Have you formed any theory as to how Major Goddard came to be lying in
the room unconscious?" inquired Miss Metoaca.
"Well." Warren stroked his gray beard thoughtfully. "He may have had an
attack of vertigo, or, mind you, this is wild guessing, perhaps he and
Lloyd quarreled, and the latter struck him, forgetting his friend's
blindness."
"And perhaps the excitement and shock of a quarrel with his best friend
brought on Lloyd's attack of heart failure," put in Miss Metoaca
excitedly.
"Only time--and Goddard--can tell." Warren shrugged his shoulders as he
rose to go. "At present, Miss Metoaca, we are all groping in the dark,
but I hope for enlightenment soon."
"When will the military commission hold the trial?" Miss Metoaca
followed Warren into the hall.
"As soon as Major Goddard is able to testify. He is one of the most
important witnesses. Now, Miss Metoaca, do stop worrying." Warren was
shocked by the change in the spinster's worn face, which he saw more
clearly in the light from the open door. "I will let you know the
moment something new turns up."
"Be careful how you send news to me," cautioned Miss Metoaca. "This
house is under constant surveillance. The Secret Service men were here
all the morning, going through Nancy's belongings, and searching the
entire house from top to bottom. They even overturned Aunt Betsy's
barrel of soft soap. The Lord only knows what they expected to find
there. I wished they had done it before they handled my clothes, there
would be less dirty finger marks on them." Miss Metoaca snorted with
suppressed indignation. "Our wardrobes are simply ruined. Good-bye,
Senator Warren; my love to your dear wife. I can never thank you enough
for all your kindness." Her lips quivered, and her shrewd old eyes
filled with most unwonted tears.
"Please don't," pleaded Warren, much embarrassed. "You and Nancy have
warm friends, who will stand by you through thick and thin. You must
not get discouraged."
"Discouraged?" echoed Miss Metoaca, winking violently. "When I think of
my dear Nancy in that place--I'd--I'd--like to murder some one myself!"
And she slammed the front door viciously as a slight vent to her
over-wrought feelings.
About the same hour that Senator Warren and Miss Metoaca were
conferring together, Colonel Baker, much dissatisfied in mind, was
walking moodily along F Street. Things had not gone to suit him that
day. The result of the autopsy had puzzled him; the search of Miss
Metoaca's house had proved disappointing, for nothing had been found
there that in any way touched on the supposed murder, or on the
whereabouts of the missing and all-important despatch. As he crossed
the street on his way to the Ebbitt House, he encountered Symonds
hurrying out of the F Street entrance of the hotel.
"Well, Symonds, what news?" he asked briefly, returning the other's
salute.
"I hear that Major Goddard has regained consciousness, Colonel."
"Good!" Baker hesitated a moment; then turned on his heel. "Come with
me, Symonds." And he led the way to Mrs. Lane's. The sentry on duty
before the house saluted as he recognized him, and allowed him to enter
the dwelling.
Baker wasted no time downstairs, but went directly to Lloyd's sitting
room, and rapped softly on the door. In response to his knock, a nurse
appeared in the doorway.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I have come to see your patient, Major Goddard, who I am told has
regained consciousness."
"Oh, that is impossible," exclaimed the nurse, and she made a movement
to close the door.
"One moment!"--sternly--"I am Colonel Baker, of the Secret Service. It
is imperative that I see Major Goddard at once. I will not stay long."
And he edged toward the doorway.
The young nurse had but recently joined the United States Sanitary
Commission, and she was overawed by Baker's authoritative manner.
"Doctor Ward has forbidden ... still," she murmured, "if you will stay
but a few minutes...." She moved reluctantly aside, and Baker stepped
into the room, followed by Symonds.
"Don't worry," said the colonel kindly. "I will explain my presence to
Doctor Ward; you will not be blamed. Where is your patient?"
"In the next room. He has been asleep all the afternoon, but is awake
now."
With noiseless steps Colonel Baker made his way into the next room, and
drew up a chair by Goddard's bedside. Nothing had been disturbed in the
room; the furniture had been left as it was before Lloyd's death. A
feeble attempt had been made to remove the blood stains in front of the
mantel; but the servant had only succeeded in spreading the stains over
the rag carpet.
Goddard moved restlessly, and turned over in bed, so that he faced
Baker; his quick ear had caught the slight sound the newcomer made in
seating himself.
"Nurse, is it you?" His voice was scarcely more than a whisper.
"No, Major Goddard; it is I, Colonel Baker."
"Baker?" Goddard spoke half to himself. "Baker? Not Colonel Baker, of
the Secret Service?" attempting to rise in bed.
"The same, sir, but that need not excite you. Here, let me put this
pillow at your back; you might then be more comfortable." Baker leaned
over, and lifted Goddard up in his strong arms as Symonds slipped the
pillow in place.
"Thanks. Who is the other person in the room?" inquired Goddard weakly.
"Symonds."
"Symonds!" Goddard's eyelids fluttered over his sightless eyes. Baker
did not care to break the pause that followed. Suddenly Goddard roused
himself. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"
"Just answer a few questions as to what happened here yesterday
afternoon. I won't keep you talking long."
"I--I--am not very strong," faltered Goddard faintly.
"You had a nasty fall," sympathized Baker, "and lost a lot of blood
before Symonds found you."
"Found me! Where?"
"Right on this floor, sir," volunteered Symonds. "You gave me an awful
turn, sir; for you looked more dead than..."--he stopped abruptly as he
met Baker's warning glare ... "alive," he supplemented feebly.
At that moment the nurse came in from the sitting room and touched
Baker on the shoulder. "You must go at once," she whispered. "You are
staying too long. Major Goddard must not be excited."
"In a second, nurse." Baker waved her impatiently away, and turned
again to Goddard. "Had you and Captain Lloyd been talking long before
you fell?"
After a prolonged pause came the whisper: "I--I--cannot remember."
Nothing daunted, the Secret Service officer pursued his examination.
"Did Captain Lloyd tell you that an important despatch, _proving_ Miss
Nancy Newton a rebel spy, had been stolen from him by her?"
Goddard was so long in answering that Baker glanced anxiously at the
silent figure on the bed. Goddard's face matched the whiteness of the
pillow case. He must have felt the scrutiny of Baker's searching eyes,
for he moved slightly. Again came the same whisper: "I--I--cannot
remember."
"Now, see here." Baker's voice rose.
Goddard held up a shaking hand. "Wait, Colonel," he stammered. "You
forget I am ill--faint--perhaps later--" He paused for breath. "Instead
of coming to me, why don't you ask Captain Lloyd?"
"For the very good reason that Lloyd is dead," returned Baker solemnly.
"Dead!" Goddard half rose; then sank back on his pillows, panting from
his exertions.
"Yes, dead," went on Baker, watching him closely. "Brutally murdered
last evening." He paused.
"Where?" Goddard's white lips formed the question; the whispered word
could hardly be heard.
"Here in this room while lying on his bed. Now, Major Goddard, I insist
upon knowing..." He spoke to deaf ears; Goddard had fainted away.
A firm hand descended on Baker's shoulder, and swung him about face.
"What in hell do you mean by browbeating my nurse and forcing yourself
in here!" exclaimed Doctor Ward hotly. "Good God! What have you done to
Goddard!" He had caught sight of the latter's ghastly face. "Nurse,
look to your patient! Now, sir, out with you." He pushed Baker in the
direction of the door. "And you go, too, Symonds," as the man rose and
stood uncertain whether or not to assist Colonel Baker in his efforts
to remain in the room.
"I have a perfect right to come here," stormed Baker, bracing his
thick-set figure against the door jamb. "I am investigating Captain
Lloyd's murder, and came here to get Major Goddard's testimony. You
forget, Doctor, I am the head of the Secret Service of this city."
"I don't care a damn who you are," roared Ward, much incensed. "In
managing a sick room, I take my orders from no one. Major Goddard was
in no condition to be interviewed. I have carefully kept all
sensational news from him. By your crass stupidity you have probably
brought on a relapse. When he is able he will give his testimony before
a court composed of his superior officers and to no one else. Now, go!"
And he closed the door in Baker's indignant face.