GEOFFREY HAYWOOD’S MOVEMENTS.
One circumstance occurred on the morning of the murder that might have
appeared strange had the excitement that prevailed permitted any one’s
attention to be directed to it.
It was the presence of Mr. Geoffrey Haywood in the street at an
unwontedly early hour. About five o’clock he might have been seen
standing on the sidewalk in front of his store, looking up and down the
street. He was not his usual composed self. He appeared expectant and
anxious. He turned to and fro impatiently, and occasionally paced the
sidewalk in evident agitation. What was he waiting for?
His manifestations of anxiety were instantly suppressed as he saw a man
approaching him.
The man was walking rapidly, and was evidently in extreme agitation.
He came from the direction of Elm Grove. It was Barker, the servant of
Colonel Conrad.
Mr. Haywood gave no sign of recognition. But a spasm of apprehension
passed over his face, followed instantly, however, by a look of
resolution. He continued his pacing to and fro.
Barker hurried up to him.
“Oh, Mr. Haywood――――” he began.
“Ah, good-morning, Barker. I felt unwell during the night, and thought
a morning walk might do me good. What brings you down town at such an
early hour?”
“Oh, sir, something terrible has happened at Elm Grove!”
“You astonish me. What is it? Is somebody ill?”
“Much worse than that. Colonel Conrad has been murdered.”
“_What!_”
Mr. Haywood’s astonishment was genuine. His face blanched with horror.
“We found him dead in his study, with an awful cut in his neck.”
“Barker, you terrify me. Tell me all about it. How did it happen?”
“No one knows how it happened, sir. It was done in the dead of night.
Miss Florence is fairly wild, and the two women-servants are nearly
frightened to death. I called in Tom to stay with them, while I ran
down town. It’s lucky, sir, that I happened to meet you.”
“Well, well, it is awful. I am nearly overcome. Find some officers,
quick, and I will go up to the house.”
“Yes, sir. I think you’d better go there as quick as you can. I’ll find
the officers, and will go to the hotel and rouse the two young men――his
nephews――who came to see him yesterday.”
“No, no, do not――but I don’t know――yes, you may call them. And do not
lose any time.”
Barker and Haywood separated, each walking as fast as his footsteps
could carry him.
Haywood found the household at Elm Grove plunged in woe. Florence
Darley was hovering about the fatal room, alternately half entering and
recoiling again. When she beheld Haywood she pointed to where the body
of Colonel Conrad reclined, and then sank into a chair and covered her
face with her hands, giving way to violent weeping.
Haywood spoke some words of sympathy in a low tone, and hastily entered
the study of the late master of Elm Grove. The corpse still sat in the
chair, leaning over the table. No one had disturbed it. Haywood took
careful note of its position and surroundings, and then called Tom,
the stable-keeper whom Barker had mentioned, bidding him also observe
closely the situation of things. The two together then lifted the body
and placed it on a couch, and, obtaining a sheet, covered it. They were
careful not to change the position of any article of furniture.
They then left the room, closing the door after them, and went into the
hall where Florence still remained.
Haywood was composed and cool, and had assumed his usual unruffled
manner. Tom was silent, though his breath came short and tremulously,
and his rough face exhibited grief. He stood ready to render any
service that might be required.
“Miss Florence,” said Haywood, “this is truly terrible. But we must be
calm. It is scarcely possible that we will not discover the perpetrator
of this deed. Officers will be here soon, and they will decide upon the
proper course of investigation. I entreat you not to give way to your
feelings. This violent sobbing will injure you, and perhaps interfere
with your being of some service. I will remain here until the officers
arrive.”
He walked through the hall, and out on the piazza, where he took a seat
on a rustic chair. He sat perfectly still, and seemed to be lost in
meditation. So absorbed was he that he did not notice the approach of
Tom, who also came out and stood near him. When, at length, on looking
around, he discovered him, he gave a start, and his brow ruffled into
a scowl. But he repressed a rising exclamation, and rose and walked to
the other end of the piazza.
In a few moments Barker arrived, accompanied by two officers and a
coroner. The coroner was Doctor Davison, the physician who, later in
the day, paid the professional visit to Carlos.
Haywood rose to meet ♦him.
“Your arrival is welcome, gentlemen,” he said, “though on such sad
business. Where are the two young men, Barker?”
“They couldn’t be found, sir. They left town yesterday, and have not
returned.”
“Did you go to the hotel?”
“Yes――they have not been seen there.”
Haywood mused, but kept his thoughts to himself.
“What sort of young men were they?” asked one of the officers.
“They were strangers to me,” replied Haywood. “I believe they claimed
to be nephews of Colonel Conrad.”
“Well it looks mighty queer. A horse and carriage that one of them
hired yesterday was found standing by the door of the livery-stable
this morning.”
“Indeed! How did you ascertain that?”
“I passed by the stable coming up, and the hired man told me.”
“Um-m――doesn’t that look suspicious?”
“How?”
“Oh, never mind. I don’t wish to bring any accusation against them, but
a thought happened to pass through my mind.”
He looked at the officer significantly, and then turned away suddenly,
as if dismissing the matter.
But the shadow of a hint was not without its effect. The officer nodded
his head knowingly.
“I now propose,” said Haywood, “that you three gentlemen remain here
and take charge of the premises, and, with the aid of Barker and Tom,
look around and see if any evidence or clew can be discovered. I will
go down town. Tom, can you let me have a horse and buggy from the barn?
I am not feeling well this morning.”
The stable-keeper assented, and Mr. Haywood, as soon as the conveyance
was ready, drove in the direction of the village.
On arriving in the business streets, he met the express driver, with
his horse and wagon, on his way to the depot to catch the early train.
Others were also moving about, for the news had spread rapidly. Through
the hotel it had gone like wild-fire; and in numerous residences,
servants, up and about their morning duties, had heard the intelligence
and communicated it to the inmates. Consequently, there were perhaps
fifty people up and on the alert, all in a state of excitement, and
inquiring eagerly for the particulars of the tragedy.
The express driver stopped and accosted Haywood, who also reined in his
horse. A knot of men instantly gathered around them.
In reply to an avalanche of questions, Mr. Haywood replied to the crowd
in general:
“Yes, it is true. Colonel Conrad was murdered last night. His dead body
was found this morning. That is all there is of it at present. Nothing
whatever is known as to how or by whom the deed was committed.”
“Is any of his gold missing?” asked the express driver.
“No investigation or search has been made yet.”
“I delivered one of those boxes yesterday.”
“A box of gold?”
“Yes; said to contain thirty thousand dollars.”
“Ah!” said Haywood. “Perhaps some one saw you deliver it, and was
tempted to commit burglary.”
“I don’t know of but one person that took particular notice of my
delivering it, and that was one of the young men who arrived in town
two or three days ago, and have been stopping at the hotel. He was
riding by the house at the time, and we exchanged a few words about it.”
“What was said?”
“Oh, nothing in particular. He remarked, as he drove on, that it was
too much good fortune for one man, or some such words.”
“Then he knew that the box contained gold?”
“Oh, yes; I told him. The colonel, you know, made no secret of
receiving such packages.”
Mr. Haywood knit his brow, and said, as if speaking half to himself:
“That is another singular circumstance.”
“What?” asked some one in the crowd.
“Why, it seems that this young man knew of the presence of the gold
in the house, and he cannot be found this morning. His companion (they
claimed to be cousins) is also missing, and a horse and buggy that he
hired yesterday were found before daylight this morning standing in
front of the livery-stable.”
“Ha!” exclaimed one. “It would be well to watch for these young men,
and make them give an account of their movements.”
This sentiment found instant echo in the crowd, and was immediately
taken up as the burden of their discussions.
Geoffrey Haywood’s solemn expression of countenance gave way, for a
mere instant, to a look of satisfaction. But he said, with a sigh:
“Well, gentlemen, I must be moving on. I have enough on my hands this
morning. The affair must be probed to the bottom.”
As he drove away, one of the listeners said:
“It’s lucky that the Conrads have such a man as Haywood for their
friend. _He’ll_ sift the thing.”
Mr. Haywood’s prowess, and his ability to carry through whatever he
undertook, were themes of remark and admiration by numbers of his
fellow-citizens.
After leaving the crowd he turned from the main thoroughfare to a
street on the left, then to the left again, and finally to the right.
He was now on the same street through which Carlos had taken his mad
ride in the storm. Looking cautiously around, he muttered to himself:
“Things have taken an unexpectedly fortunate turn. If this crime can
be fastened on these two rascally cousins, it will be a most effectual
mode of getting them out of my way.”
Then he urged his horse along rapidly, and, after more turns in the
road, brought up at the residence of Mr. Jacob Heath――the place where
Carlos had so unwillingly staid in the darkness.
Mr. Heath was engaged in some occupation in the back yard, but came
around to the front as the carriage stopped. He stared at his visitor
in surprise.
“Good-morning, Jake,” said Mr. Haywood.
“Good-morning,” replied the one addressed, with a look of curiosity.
Mr. Haywood, without further ceremony, asked a most singular question:
“_Have you seen Snags?_”
“No,” replied the other, with a start.
At this juncture Kate Heath appeared at the door.
The conversation between her father and Haywood was therefore carried
on in whispers. It lasted some ten minutes.
Finally Haywood said, in a loud voice, with the evident intention that
it should be heard by Kate:
“Well, get the sheep all washed as soon as you can, for we want to
shear and get the wool in market before the prices drop.”
He then drove off at a furious speed.
“Did you tell him about the stranger that stopped with us during the
night?” asked Kate.
“None of your business, girl! You shouldn’t ask questions that don’t
concern you.”