CHAPTER IX

INDICTED

"Well, Spotty, I've got to hand it to you! Certainly you did put one

over on me!"

"Not intentional, Colonel. So help me--not intentional!"

"Well, maybe not, but I've got to hand it to you. If I didn't know

that slip of mine in front of the truck was pure accident, I'd say you

staged it just to make a good get-away."

"I couldn't do that, Colonel."

"I don't know, Spotty. You're a clever kid."

"But I couldn't do that. I was on the level in saving you. You've got

to give me credit for that," pleaded the gunman.

"I know you were, Spotty. And that's why I gave you a chance to get

away. But I never thought it was for a job like this--murder."

"And it wasn't, Colonel--it wasn't! So help me, I never laid eyes on

the old lady--dead or alive! Murder? I should say not!"

"Then how did you get that diamond cross? Answer me!"

Colonel Ashley, with a dramatic gesture, pointed to the glittering

ornament that lay on the table between him and the New York crook. The

stones glittered in the electric lights of police headquarters, for it

was there, in the distant city, that this talk took place.

Confirming over the long distance telephone the news given in his

agent's telegram, Colonel Ashley, without having revealed to Grafton

what new development had occurred, had made a quick trip to Lango,

where Spotty, in response to a quiet but general alarm sent out, had

been arrested.

A diamond cross had been found in his possession, and was bent and

flattened--crushed by some heavy foot--though all the stones were

intact.

Spotty admitted that the ornament might be the very one wanted, but he

absolutely refused to tell how he had come by it. He was most

emphatic, however, in denying that he had taken it from Mrs. Darcy, or

that he had even seen her or been to her store.

"I'm a bad man, Colonel, you know that, and maybe if I was to go to the

chair--or the rope, according, to where I was caught--I wouldn't be

getting any more than was comin' to me. But, so help me, I never

croaked that old lady!"

"Then how did you get that cross?"

"I won't tell you!"

"I'll make you, Spotty!" and there was a dangerous glint in the eyes of

the colonel.

"You can't!" defied the crook. "There ain't a man livin' that can! Go

on with your third degree if you want to!" he sneered. "But for every

blow you strike--for every hour you keep me awake when I'm dead for

sleep--you'll be sorry, Colonel! You'll be sorry when you think of

what might have happened back there in Colchester!"

"Spotty, you're right!" faltered the colonel. "I almost wish you

hadn't saved me. I've got to do my duty! I've got to break you if

need be, Spotty, to get at the truth. I want to know who killed Mrs.

Darcy and where you got that cross! I want to know, and, by gad! I'm

going to know!"

"Not from me, Colonel! I never saw the old lady, dead or alive, and I

never knew until just now when you told me, that she'd ever had this

cross."

"Who gave it to you?"

"Colonel, did you ever know me to split on a pal unless he split first?"

"No, Spotty. I never did."

"Well, then, you stand a fine chance in getting me to do it now. Go to

it if you like. I'm through spielin'!" and the crook turned away with

an air of indifference.

The colonel knew that Spotty never would tell, until he wanted to, but

it did not deter him. He "went at" Spotty. What happened in the quiet

room, near the police headquarter cells, need not form part of this

record. Enough to say that when they let Spotty go staggering back to

his dungeon, a wreck of a man physically and mentally for the time

being, he had not told.

And the glittering stones in the crushed cross were not more silent

than he in his misery--deserved perhaps, but none the less misery.

And when the colonel, rather upset himself by what he had been forced

to go through, started back for Colchester, he took with him the memory

of Spotty's rather sneering face and the echo of his words:

"Well, Colonel, I didn't tell!"

And he had not. The diamond cross still kept its mystery.

Colonel Ashley fumed, fretted, and fidgeted until he was on the verge

of a sleepless night on his way back in the train. Then he bethought

himself of his little green book, and he read:

"You are to know, then, that there is a night as well as a day fishing

for a trout, and that in the night the best trout come out of their

holes."

"Ah, ha," mused the colonel. "I think I shall have to do a little

night fishing."

So saying, having read a little farther in his Izaak Walton, he went

peacefully to his berth and awoke calmer and himself again.

But if the colonel felt refreshed on reaching Colchester, it was not

because he felt that he was in a fair way to solve the problem--or,

rather, the many problems connected with the Darcy murder.

"It's worse tangled than before," mused the old detective. "I wonder

if Grafton-- No, it couldn't be. But I must have a talk with his

friend Cynthia. Ticklish business when a man goes out walking with a

married woman and steps on her cross. There are complications and

complications. I wonder when I'll begin to unravel some of them?"

For reasons of his own, the colonel said nothing to the police or

county authorities in Colchester about the arrest of Spotty, nor did he

mention that, nor the finding of the diamond cross, to Darcy or

Grafton. He wanted to be sure of his ground before he told of this end

of the affair.

"I wish I knew what to make of Grafton," mused the colonel, "His share

in it--if share he had--is getting more complicated. Can he and Spotty

be up to some trick between them and did the gunman get away with the

cross? It wouldn't be the first time Spotty had hired out his services

to a man who wanted something desperate done! Now in this case,

Grafton may have wanted something from Mrs. Darcy she wasn't willing to

do. In that case--"

The colonel shook his head.

"I guess," he half-whispered, "that Shag was right. This is going to

be a mighty complicated case. Talk about a diamond cross, there may be

a double-cross in it on the part of Grafton. I must watch you a bit

closer, my friend."

The colonel considered that he was working to clear Darcy, and he

wanted to do it in his own way. He was willing--perforce--that, for

the time, the young man be considered guilty. He could not help the

young man by making these few disclosures now. The prisoner would not

be released because Spotty or any one else was suspected, nor would he

be admitted to bail. In any case he must remain in jail.

The Grand Jury was setting considering the evidence against the

prisoner, and against others accused of various crimes.

"And I suppose they'll indite Darcy," mused the colonel. "It means

only another step, however, a step I have already counted on. It won't

help or hinder the solving of the mystery. Hang Spotty, anyhow! Why

couldn't he keep out of this? He surely has tangled it worse than

ever. I wonder if he's telling the truth when he says he didn't go

near the place? It was Spotty, or one of his kind, who got in and out

without leaving a trace. It took Spotty's skill. But--I don't know.

I must have another look around the jewelry store."

A day or so after his return from the West, the colonel made a close

examination of the shop. Just what he was looking for he hardly knew,

but he was quite surprised when he discovered, connected with the main

lighting wires of the store, other wires which ran to various places in

the shelves and the show windows, where many of the clocks stood.

"I wonder if that's a new kind of burglar alarm," thought the colonel.

"If it is, it's the first time I've ever seen one hooked up to the

electric light circuit. A bad thing in case of a short circuit. A

person might get a shock that would knock him down and--"

Something seemed to give the colonel a new idea. He made a hurried

examination of the wires and then left the store, to be seen a little

later at the establishment of an electrician, where he stayed some time.

It was late that afternoon, when the papers, in extra editions,

announced the indictment of James Darcy for the murder of his cousin.

When Colonel Ashley returned to his hotel from the electrician's, he

found Amy Mason waiting for him.

"Oh, Colonel! isn't this dreadful?" she exclaimed, holding out a paper.

"It's so--so--"

"Tut, tut! my dear young lady, this is nothing! It is only a little

shoot on the main stem. Don't let it distress you. It was to be

expected."

"I know! But it sounds so dreadful! Before, he was only suspected,

even though formally charged. Now it seems as if he were found

_guilty_!"

"Far from it. The only evidence against him, just as it has been all

along, is circumstantial. They have yet to prove anything, and I don't

believe they can. Cheer up! I'll get him off yet!"

"Are you sure, Colonel?" and her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Sure? Why, of course I am!"

And yet the colonel had to force himself a bit to make that sound

natural. Perhaps it was because he had said it so often and was tired.

Or did it have anything to do with the strange wires that led to the

work table of James Darcy?

The Diamond Cross Mystery Being a Somewhat Different Detective Story · 第 9 / 22 章