THE UNSEEN EAR
BY NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN
AUTHOR OF _“I Spy,” “The Moving Finger,” “The Nameless Man,”
“The Red Seal,” “The Three Strings,” etc._
WITH FRONTISPIECE
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
Published by arrangement with D. Appleton & Company
Printed in U. S. A.
COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Copyright, 1920, by Street and Smith
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
[Illustration: DROPPING ON HER KNEES, SHE TURNED THE DIAL [page 249]]
TO
MY MOTHER
WHOSE UNFLAGGING INTEREST HAS
STIMULATED MY LITERARY WORK, THIS
LATEST BOOK IS LOVINGLY INSCRIBED.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THROUGH THE PORTIÈRES 1
II IDENTIFIED 6
III THEORIES 23
IV LOST: A MEMORANDUM 41
V MORE THEORIES 57
VI SPECULATION 77
VII THE KNAVE OF HEARTS 94
VIII PRO AND CON 113
IX HALF A SHEET 123
X BELOW STAIRS 140
XI THE THREAT 153
XII THE THEFT 169
XIII “MIZPAH” 182
XIV SUSPICION 193
XV THE PUSH BUTTON 209
XVI LINKS IN THE CHAIN 225
XVII THE DANCING SILHOUETTES 242
XVIII EDGED TOOLS 252
XIX THE UNSEEN EAR 270
XX RUN TO COVER 279
THE UNSEEN EAR
CHAPTER I
THROUGH THE PORTIÈRES
THE bedroom door opened and closed on its oiled hinges without a
sound, and a man walked over to the closet. With methodical care he
hung his coat on its accustomed peg before moving deliberately over
to his bureau. On its highly polished top he laid down a soiled scrap
of paper. His quiet, orderly actions gave no indication of the rage
consuming him. As he raised his head his eyes traveled upward and he
started back involuntarily at the face contemplating him in the mirror.
His face--but was that distorted countenance his face? With a shudder
he glanced over his shoulder and about the room; then slowly, fearfully
he turned to face his other self mirrored in the glass before him.
* * * * *
Judith Richards poked the fire into a brighter blaze, then leaned back
in her chair with a little sigh of content and idly turned over the
pages of the book she had been reading. The happy ending recorded in
the romance reflected her own mood. Two months a bride! Her lips parted
in a tender smile as events of her happy married life recurred to her,
and dropping the book in her lap, she rested her head against the
tufted chair and watched the burning logs in dreamy contemplation. She
was not conscious of the lateness of the hour or of the fact that she
was no longer alone in the large library.
The newcomer who had entered noiselessly through the portières hanging
before the doorway leading from the library into the dining room, moved
cautiously forward to obtain a better view of Judith. Satisfied that
he had not disturbed her reverie, he sidled stealthily over to a large
safe, which stood near a mahogany desk, and dropped on his knees before
it.
Without rising from his crouching position, he pushed forward a chair
until its broad proportions completely sheltered his movements should
Judith turn around and glance in his direction; then, losing no further
time, he twirled the dial of the safe around with practiced fingers,
and as the massive door finally swung open he went systematically
through each compartment of the safe. Fully twenty minutes passed and
the man moistened his dry lips. Was his search to go unrewarded?
As he felt about in the last compartment to be examined his fingers
encountered a piece of paper caught apparently in a crevice. With
infinite care he pulled it loose, and rising, walked over to the
electric-light bracket on the wall by the door through which he had
entered the library. One of the bulbs was burning, and as he bent his
head to examine the piece of paper, his eyes caught the flash of steel
as it darted through the portières, and he instinctively recoiled--but
too late to avoid the thrust. With a whimpering cry he fell face
downward, his blood staining the handsome rugs.
Judith stirred and sat up, then after a comfortable stretch of her
stiffened muscles, she replaced her book on the table, and with a
glance at the mantel clock, paused to warm her hands at the smoldering
embers.
It was much later than she had supposed--one o’clock. With a faint
shiver she pulled her dainty warm wrapper more closely about her
slender figure before leaning over to switch off the reading lamp.
Picking up her large sewing bag she walked across the library intending
to press the wall button which controlled the electric side lights.
But her intention was forgotten as her sleepy eyes caught sight of the
crumpled figure lying in front of the entrance to the dining room.
A cry broke from her and slowly her shocked wits took in the
significance of the ever widening red stain creeping across the rugs
and floor. For long seconds she stood staring, too terrified to move.
Gradually gathering courage, she advanced and, placing one trembling
hand on the man’s shoulder, rolled him over until his face was exposed
to view. With a bound she regained her feet, her hands raised to her
throbbing temples, while the sewing bag tumbled unheeded to the floor.
She was unaware of the passing time as she gazed at the face before
her, a face scarcely less gray in death than her own, from which every
ray of color had been stricken. Slowly, slowly she took in every detail
of the man’s appearance, then with numb, clumsy fingers she jerked a
long pair of steel shears from her sewing bag and, kneeling down once
more by the dead man, she hacked and tore at his watch chain until she
had loosened a small locket.
Slipping the locket inside her belt and clutching the sewing bag, she
staggered to her feet and made her way into the large central hall as a
key turned in the front door and a man stepped inside the house.
“Joe! Thank God!” Judith’s low cry ended abruptly, and her husband was
just in time to catch her as she fell unconscious to the floor.