THE INQUEST
The crowd, which early in the day had gathered about Fair Oaks,
instead of diminishing, seemed rather to increase as the hours
slipped away. Little by little the facts became known to
outsiders,--the loss of the old family jewels, concerning whose existence
and probable value vague rumors had been circulated in the past, the
drawing up of the will on the preceding day and its strange
disappearance in connection with the sudden and mysterious death of
the testator,--all combined to arouse public interest and curiosity
to an unusual degree; it seemed the culmination of the impenetrable
mystery which for years had shrouded the place.
As the hour for the inquest approached, the crowd was augmented by
each suburban train, until a throng of business men of all classes,
interspersed with numerous reporters eager for the details of the
affair, covered the grounds and even sought admittance to the house,
for the millionaire broker, though a man of few intimate friendships,
was widely known and honored in the financial and commercial world.
Shortly after the arrival of the 2.45 train from the city, the
Mainwaring carriage came rapidly up the avenue, two or three other
carriages following in the rear. As it stopped, Mr. Whitney
alighted, followed by an elderly gentleman of fine appearance and
two officers of the special police, who immediately began to force
back the crowd, while the attorney and his companion hastily entered
the house and were met by the butler, who, in response to a hurried
inquiry, directed them up-stairs.
In the private library they found the detective who had been left
there alone at his own request. There was a brief interview between
the three, after which Mr. Whitney begged his companion to excuse
him for a moment, and beckoning Mr. Merrick into the tower-room,
asked eagerly,--
"Well, what success? Have you struck the trail?"
With an enigmatical smile, the detective replied, "The game has
doubled back on the trail pretty adroitly, but I have made one or
two little discoveries that may be of value later. What do you
think of this?"
Opening a small note-book, he took therefrom several pieces of burnt
paper, most of which were so blackened that the faint traces of
writing which they bore were illegible. On a few pieces, however,
words and parts of words could be distinctly read.
Mr. Whitney studied the bits of discolored paper for a moment, and
then exclaimed in excited tones,
"Good heavens, man! it is the will! The will drawn up in these
rooms yesterday! See, here is the date, 'this seventh day of July,
in the year of our'--the rest is gone."
"Here is part of a name," said the detective, "'nor Houghton
LaGra'--"
"Eleanor Houghton LaGrange!" exclaimed the attorney, "and below
you can just trace the words, 'this amount of annuity to be'; and
here are other bits, 'as to my estate and all property,' 'to hold
the same forever, together with.' Well, I should say these were
of value; where did you find them?"
For answer, Mr. Merrick pointed to a small fireplace behind the
safe, near which a large screen was standing.
"Strange!" exclaimed the attorney. "I never noticed that before,
much as I have been here."
"It escaped my observation for some time," replied the other. "I
searched the fireplace in the library, but this grate is very small
and was concealed by that large screen, as well as by the safe.
Evidently, it was seldom used, and was selected for that reason by
whoever destroyed the will, as more likely to escape notice."
"Rather a bungling piece of work," commented the attorney, "leaving
these partially burned scraps. I wonder that he or she, whoever it
was, did not make sure that they were entirely consumed."
"The person may have heard some sound and, fearing detection,
hastened away before the job was completed," suggested the other.
"Well, it is past three, we must hasten; you found nothing more?"
"Nothing of special importance. I have learned one fact, however;
the murder was never committed in this room, but in the library."
"The library! Why do you think that?"
"I do not think it, I know it, and was confident of it while we
were making the examination this morning. Say nothing about it,
however, for the present. We will go now, if you are ready."
Joining the gentleman still awaiting them in the library, they
descended into the lower hall, where the detective suddenly
disappeared.
Meanwhile, the coroner and members of the jury, after alighting
from their carriages, marched gravely up the broad stairs and were
conducted by a servant into one of the private apartments where lay
the body of the murdered man. Under the direction of Dr. Westlake,
the jury individually viewed the wounds, noting their location and
character, and, after a brief visit to the room in the tower, all
passed downstairs and were shown into the large library on the first
floor.
The coroner occupied a large arm-chair at one end of a long
writing-table in the centre of the room, the jury being seated
together near his left, while on each side of the table chairs had
been placed for the accommodation of a few of the more prominent
reporters, the others, less favored, stationing themselves at the
doorways and open windows.
In the room back of the library were the servants, the women grouped
about the great arched doorway with white, frightened faces, the men
standing a little farther in the rear, while in a dim corner,
partially concealed by the heavy portieres and unseen by any one
excepting the servants, was the detective.
When everything was in readiness, Mr. Whitney entered the room with
the gentleman who had accompanied him out from the city and followed
by the London guests. In the lead were Ralph Mainwaring and his
son, the entrance of the latter causing a small stir of interest and
excitement, as a score of pencils at once began to rapidly sketch
the features of the young Englishman, the intended heir of Hugh
Mainwaring. The young man's face wore an expression of unconcern,
but his father's features were set and severe. To him, the loss of
the will meant something more than the forfeiture of the exclusive
ownership of a valuable estate; it meant the overthrow and demolition
of one of his pet schemes, cherished for twenty-one years, just on
the eve of its fulfilment; and those who knew Ralph Mainwaring knew
that to thwart his plans was a dangerous undertaking.
Mr. Thornton followed, escorting Mrs. Mainwaring and her daughter,
the cold, gray eyes of Isabel Mainwaring flashing a look of haughty
disdain on the faces about her. Bringing up the rear was Mrs. Hogarth
with her two charges, Edith Thornton and Winifred Carleton, the face
of the latter lighted with an intelligent, sympathetic interest in
her surroundings.
Harry Scott next entered, pausing in the doorway for an instant,
while just behind him appeared Mrs. LaGrange. The room was already
crowded, and Miss Carleton, seated near the door, with a quick
glance invited the young secretary to a vacant chair by her side,
which he gracefully accepted, but not before a tiny note had been
thrust into his hand, unseen by any one excepting the detective.
Pale, but with all her accustomed hauteur, Mrs. LaGrange,
accompanied by her son, passed slowly around the group of reporters,
ignoring the chair offered by the attorney, and seated herself in a
position as remote as possible from the guests of the house and
commanding a full view of the servants. Her gown was noticeable
for its elegance, and her jewelled hands toyed daintily with a
superb fan, from whose waving black plumes a perfume, subtle and
exquisite, was wafted to every part of the room.
In the silence that followed, the coroner, with a few brief words,
called for the first witness, George Hardy. A young man, with a
frank face and quiet, unassuming manner, stepped forward from the
group of servants. After the usual preliminaries, the coroner
inquired,--
"How long have you been in the employ of Mr. Mainwaring?"
"Nearly four years, sir."
"During that time you have held the position of valet?"
"Yes, sir."
"At what time this morning did you discover what had occurred?"
"About seven o'clock, sir."
"You may state how you came to make this discovery, giving full
particulars."
"I had gone as usual to the bath-room to prepare the bath for Mr.
Mainwaring, and when everything was in readiness I knocked at his
door to waken him. There was no answer, and, after knocking several
times, I unlocked the door and looked in. I saw he had not occupied
the room, but I didn't think much about that, and went on through
the smoking-room into the library, and then I saw Mr. Mainwaring
lying on the floor in the next room. At first I thought he was sick
and went to him, but as I got nearer I saw that he was dead, and
then I noticed the revolver lying beside him."
"What did you then do?"
"I was frightened, sir, and I went to call help as quick as I could."
"Who was the first person whom you met and told of your discovery?"
"Well, sir, I went first for Mr. Whitney, because he was a friend
of Mr. Mainwaring's and a lawyer, and I thought he would know what
to do; but on my way to his room I met Wilson, Mr. Ralph Mainwaring's
valet, and I told him what had happened; then I called Mr. Whitney
and told him Mr. Mainwaring had shot himself."
"Did you get the impression that Mr. Mainwaring bad shot himself
from the fact that the revolver lay near his band, or had you any
other reasons for that inference?"
"No, sir, that was the only reason."
"Can you state positively whether this revolver belonged to Mr.
Mainwaring?" asked the coroner, at the same time passing the weapon
to Hardy.
"Yes, sir," replied the latter, promptly, handing it back after a
moment's inspection, "that is Mr. Mainwaring's revolver. I've
cleaned it many a time, and there's little marks on it that I know
sure."
"Very well. After summoning Mr. Whitney, did you call any other
members of the household?"
"Mr. Whitney sent me to call Mr. Ralph Mainwaring; but I met Wilson
again, and he said he had just told Mr. Mainwaring and Mr. Thornton,
and was on his way to the room of young Mr. Mainwaring. Down the
hall I met the butler and told him what had happened, and we both
went into the library, and I stayed there till Mr. Whitney came."
"When did you last see Mr. Hugh Mainwaring?"
"Shortly after dinner last evening, between seven and eight o'clock,
I should say, sir."
"Where was that?"
"In the main hall down-stairs, sir. He stopped me to say that he
would not need me last evening, and that after locking up his rooms
for the night I could have my time to myself."
"Was the locking of his rooms usually included among your duties at
night?"
"Yes, sir; his private rooms and the hall on the south side."
"Did you have any stated time for doing this?"
"At nine o'clock, sir."
"You locked the rooms as usual last night?"
"Yes, sir; that is, I locked them all right, but it was later than
usual."
"How was that?"
"About half an hour after Mr. Mainwaring spoke to me, the housekeeper
came and asked me to keep the rooms open till about ten o'clock, as
she was expecting callers and wanted to receive them by the south
hall into her private parlor."
"At what time did you lock the rooms?"
"A few minutes after ten, sir. I felt kind of uneasy, because it
was Mr. Mainwaring's orders that the rooms be shut at nine; so soon
as 'twas ten o'clock I went around outside, and, seeing no light in
her parlor, I went in and locked the hall and then went up-stairs
to lock the rooms there."
"Did you see any strangers about the place at that time?"
"No, sir."
"You saw no one in any of Mr. Mainwaring's private rooms?"
"No strangers, you mean? No, sir."
"Was there any one in his rooms?"
"The housekeeper was in the library. She had gone up-stairs that
way, she said, and had found the door into the main hall locked,
and hearing me come, she waited for me to open it."
"Had you locked the door into the main hall?"
"No, sir; that door wasn't usually locked in the evening. I don't
know who locked it, but I opened it for her and then locked it
again."
"Are you positive there was no one else in those rooms at that time?"
"Yes, sir, pretty sure," replied Hardy, with a smile, "for I looked
them over uncommon thorough last night. I thought at first that I
smelled smoke, like something burning, but I looked around careful
and everything was all right."
At this point Mr. Whitney held a whispered consultation with the
coroner for a moment.
"You say," continued the latter, "you thought you smelled something
burning; could you state what the material seemed to be?"
"Well, sir, I thought it was like paper burning; but I must have
been mistaken, for the papers on the table was all right and there
was nothing in the fireplace."
"Did you see or hear anything unusual about the place at any time
last night?"
"No, sir."
For a moment the coroner was occupied with a slip of paper which
had been passed to him through a number of hands; then he said,--
"Before you are dismissed, will you describe the locks used on the
doors of Mr. Mainwaring's library and the south hall."
"They had the ordinary locks, sir; and then, in addition, a small,
patent lock, that when a certain spring was turned the door locked
of itself and could not be opened from either side unless one had
the key and understood the working of the spring."
"Who had keys to fit these locks?"
"No one but Mr. Mainwaring. When he was home and wanted the doors
unlocked, he hung the keys in a particular place in the library
where I could find them, and when he went away he always took them
with him."
"Did you unlock the library doors this morning?"
"Only the door into the main hall when I went to call Mr. Whitney,--that
had nothing but an ordinary lock; but the other door, into
the south hall, was unlocked and the keys gone when I first went
into the library."
"One question more. Do you know whether any one else in the house
had knowledge of or access to, these particular keys?"
"I don't know for certain, sir, but I think not."
The attorney was next called upon, and came forward, while Hardy
resumed his former place among the servants.
"Mr. Whitney," said the coroner, after the witness had given the
details of his arrival in the tower-room in response to the valet's
summons, "will you please state when, and under what circumstances,
you last saw Hugh Mainwaring living."
"At nearly eleven o'clock last night. Mr. Mainwaring had just
bidden his guests good-night, and I believe they had all retired to
their rooms, leaving him and myself together upon the veranda in
front of the house. I remained with him about ten minutes, I should
judge, talking over the events of the day which had been of unusual
interest. I remember his remarking that he should not retire for an
hour or so, as, to use his own expression, his thoughts would not
let him sleep. We clasped hands with an exchange of good wishes.
That was the last I ever saw him living or heard him speak."
Mr. Whitney's voice trembled slightly towards the close of his
recital, but as he repeated Hugh Mainwaring's words a smile of scorn
passed over the face of Mrs. LaGrange, who was seated directly
opposite.
"Will you please state," said the coroner, "how Mr. Mainwaring had
been engaged during the day, yesterday."
"Until about half-past two his time was spent in the preparation,
with the assistance of his secretary and myself, and the execution
of his last will and testament. The remainder of the day was devoted
to the entertainment of his guests."
"Will you give briefly and in general terms the conditions of the
will."
"With the exception of an annuity to his housekeeper and a handsome
bequest to her son, it conveyed everything to his cousin and
namesake, Hugh Mainwaring, Jr., whom he intended to-day to formally
declare his heir."
"Where was this document placed, Mr. Whitney?"
"It was, at Mr. Mainwaring's request, placed by his secretary on his
desk in the tower-room."
"You can give no further information regarding this will, now
missing?"
"Only this," replied Mr. Whitney, with marked emphasis, "that we
now have positive proof that the will was burned."
There was a general movement of surprise, both among the members
of the household and outsiders; and the attorney, closely observant
of Mrs. LaGrange, saw her cheek, which but a moment before, at his
mention of the annuity contained in the will, had flamed with anger,
suddenly assume a strange pallor.
"Mr. Whitney," continued the coroner, having consulted a small
memorandum which he held, "do you know whether there were any
strangers at Fair Oaks yesterday?"
"I have no personal knowledge on that subject. The secretary informs
me that a stranger inquired for Mr. Mainwaring in the afternoon, and
remarks were made at luncheon, that impressed me considerably,
regarding some one who had called in the forenoon, whether to see Mr.
Mainwaring I am not prepared to state."
"Will you state the nature of those remarks?"
"I should prefer to be excused until later in this examination. For
the present, I will merely say that one of Mr. Mainwaring's guests
incidentally met and recognized this caller; that the latter was
evidently well and unfavorably known by both Mr. Mainwaring and his
guests, and, if I am not mistaken, by the secretary also, and that
the mention of the man's name seemed to affect Mr. Hugh Mainwaring
very unpleasantly."
"In what respect, Mr. Whitney?"
"He grew very pale and appeared confused, if not alarmed, on
learning that the man was in this country and had been seen at this
house, and he seemed abstracted and very unlike himself for fully
an hour after the occurrence."
"Will you state the name of this man?"
"He was spoken of as Richard Hobson, formerly an attorney, of London."