"That is sound reasoning," said Mr. Barnes.
"Very well. I had a statement published in the four leading dental
magazines, accompanied by a _facsimile_ of the chart made by my dentist,
and I solicited correspondence with any dentist who could show a similar
chart in his records."
"That was a good method, provided, of course, the dentist who did the
work subscribed to one of these magazines."
"Of course the advertisement might not meet the eye of the dentist who
treated the dead woman, but even though he were not a subscriber he
might hear of this matter through some acquaintance, because, as I have
said, this subject of identification through dental work is one that
widely interests the dentists. However, success rewarded us. I received
a letter from a dentist in one of the New Jersey towns, stating that he
believed he could match my chart. I lost no time in visiting him, and,
after examining his book, was satisfied that the person who had been
cremated that day was an elderly, eccentric woman, named Miss Lederle,
Miss Martha Lederle."
"Mr. Mitchel, you have done a remarkably clever bit of work, and though
you have succeeded where I have failed, I must congratulate you. But
tell me, after learning the name of the woman how did you trace her to
this city?"
"I deserve no credit for that. It seems that Miss Lederle had long had
a little fleshy tumor on the inside of her cheek, which had had an
opportunity to grow because of the loss of a tooth. Her dentist often
advised her to have it removed, lest it might become cancerous. She put
it off from time to time, but recently it had grown more rapidly, and at
last she called on the dentist and asked him to recommend a surgeon. He
tells me that he gave her the names of three, one residing in Newark,
and two in this city. Of the New York men, one was Dr. Mortimer."
"By Jove! Doctor Mortimer!" exclaimed Mr. Barnes. "I begin to see
daylight. It was he who supplied the morphine powders, then?"
"Ah, then you know so much? Yes, Dr. Mortimer instigated the transfer of
bodies. As soon as I charged him with murder, he thought it safest to
tell me the truth and throw himself upon my mercy."
"Upon your mercy?" said Mr. Barnes, mystified.
"Yes; the man has not committed a crime, at least not the crime of
murder. It seems that on the afternoon of the day before that fixed for
the funeral of Mr. Quadrant, this Miss Lederle called at his office and
requested him to remove the tumor from her cheek. He consented, and
suggested the use of cocaine to deaden the parts. The woman insisted
that she must have chloroform, and the doctor explained that in the
absence of his assistant he would not care to undertake the
administration of an anaesthetic. But the woman was persistent; she
offered a liberal fee if the operation could be done immediately, since
it had required so much time for her to bring her courage to the point
of having the tumor removed; then the operation itself seemed so simple
that at last the surgeon was overruled, and proceeded. He did cause the
patient to remove her corset, and, her garments thoroughly loosened, she
was placed on the operating-table. He says he administered very little
chloroform, and had not yet attempted to operate when the patient
exhibited dangerous symptoms. In spite of his most untiring efforts she
succumbed, and he found himself in the dreadful position of having a
patient die under an operation, with no witnesses present. He closed and
locked his office and walked from the house in great mental agitation.
He called at the Quadrants', and heard there that the coffin would not
again be opened. Then a great temptation came to him. The woman had not
given him her address, nor had she stated who had sent her to Dr.
Mortimer, merely declaring that she knew him by reputation. There was no
way to communicate with the woman's relatives except by making the
affair public. He recalled that a similar accident to an old surgeon of
long-established reputation, where several assistants had been present,
had nevertheless ruined the man's practice. He himself was innocent of
wrong-doing, except, perhaps, that the law forbade him to operate alone,
and he saw ruin staring him in the face, just at a time, too, when great
prosperity had appeared to be within his grasp. The undertaker, Berial,
was an old acquaintance, indebted to him for many recommendations.
"The plan seemed more and more feasible as he thought of it, and finally
he sought out Berial, and confided to him his secret. For a liberal fee
the undertaker agreed to dispose of the body. Dr. Mortimer supplied him
with a drug with which to overcome the watchman at the stables, so that
the wagon could be taken out unknown. He himself visited the Quadrant
house, and, under the plea of relieving Mark Quadrant of a headache,
gave him also a dose of morphine. At the appointed time Berial arrived
at the doctor's office and took away the woman's body, first replacing
the corset, which, of course, they were bound to dispose of. Together
they went to the Quadrants', and there exchanged the bodies. Subsequent
events are known to you. Thus the truth has arisen, Phoenix-like, from
the ashes of the dead. The question remaining is, what claim has Justice
upon the doctor? Gentlemen, is it needful to disgrace that man, who
really is a victim of circumstances rather than a wrong-doer? He tells
me, Mr. Barnes, that he has not had a moment of mental rest since you
asked him whether ashes could be proven to be the residue of a human
body."
"I recall now that he started violently when I spoke to him. Perhaps,
had I been more shrewd, I might have suspected the truth then. The
difficulty of hushing this matter up, Mr. Mitchel, seems to be the
friends and relatives of the dead woman. How can they be appeased?"
"I will undertake that. I think the real estate which she leaves behind
will satisfy the one relative. I have already communicated with this
man, a hard, money-grubbing old skinflint, and I think that with the
assistance of Mr. Berial we can have one more funeral that will satisfy
the curiosity of the few neighbors."
And thus the matter was permitted to rest. There was yet one point which
puzzled Mr. Barnes, and which never was made clear to him.
"What of the scar that I could not find on Rufus Quadrant's foot?" he
often asked himself. But as he could not ask either of the brothers, he
never got a reply. Yet the explanation was simple. Mark Quadrant told
Mr. Barnes that his brother had such a scar, his object being to baffle
the detective by suggesting to him a flaw in the identification. The
idea occurred to him because his brother Amos really had such a scarred
foot, and he so worded his remark that he literally told the truth,
though he deceived Mr. Barnes. When the detective repeated this
statement to Amos, he noticed the care with which his brother had
spoken, and, in turn, he truthfully said that his brother had spoken
truthfully.