CHAPTER XVIII
It was two o'clock before court, which had been dismissed for lunchafter Richard Glover's testimony, convened again. During the noon hour atray containing the only tempting food which the prisoner had seen sincehis incarceration was brought up to his cell. It had become apparent tothe jailer that he had friends, and perhaps he was moved thereby to atardy compassion. But Kenwick, despite Dayton's admonition to "Brace upand eat a good meal," waved it indifferently aside.
"I'm done for," he said simply. "I don't see how any twelve men couldhear the evidence that was presented this morning and find me innocent.And by the time Jarvis gets through telling anything he likes, andproving it----Well, it appears that every person who has been connectedin any way with me since this trouble fell upon me has taken advantageof my misfortune to enrich himself. I don't care much now what they dowith me. When you lose your faith in humanity it's time to die. I'm noreligious fanatic, Dayton, but for these last two months I've thankedGod on my knees every night of my life for having brought me back intothe light. Now I wish that I had died instead."
Dayton made no further effort to rouse him from his despair. Foralthough not of a sensitive or particularly intuitive temperamenthimself, he had come to realize the utter impossibility of finding thisother man in his trouble. "You don't seem to have much faith in me," wasall he said as he made some notes on the back of an envelope. But hefinally induced his client to eat some of the food upon his tray andafter the first few mouthfuls Kenwick was surprised to find that he wasravenously hungry.
"That's something like," the lawyer approved, as they made their wayback through the court-house grounds. "Now you're good for another threehours."
It hadn't seemed possible to Kenwick that he was, that his nerves couldstand the strain of hours and hours more of this, and there was noassurance that the ordeal would end to-day or to-morrow. But Dayton'seasy assurance gave him a new grip upon himself.
They found the audience waiting and eager. None of them seemed to havemoved since they had been dismissed for recess two hours before. Onlythe jury were absent, but five minutes after Kenwick's arrival theyfiled in and took their places. The district attorney appeared to havelost interest in the case. He sat staring out of the window with a sortof wistful impatience as though he were visualizing a potential game ofgolf. Dayton glanced at some notes on the table at his elbow and issuedhis first command. "Call Madeleine Marstan."
In response to this summons one of the veiled women in the rear of theroom rose and came forward. She was quietly dressed in a gown ofclinging black silk and a black turban with a touch of amethyst. Everyeye in the court-room was fixed upon her, but she took the oath with theunembarrassed self-possession of one long accustomed to the public gaze.Kenwick, turned toward her, detected a faint odor of heliotrope.
"Where do you live, Mrs. Marstan?" Dayton inquired.
She gave a street and number in San Francisco.
"What is your occupation?"
"I am an actress."
"Do you know the prisoner?"
Without glancing at him she replied, with her unruffled composure, "Ido."
"How long have you known him?"
"About two months."
"Describe the occasion on which he was first brought to your notice."
She settled back slightly in her chair, like a traveler making herselfcomfortable for what promised to be a long journey. "It was on theafternoon of November 19 that my husband, a physician, came into ourapartment in San Francisco and announced to me that he had just secureda remunerative position with a wealthy man down at Mont-Mer. He saidthat the work would begin immediately and we must be ready to leave thefollowing day. I asked him for more details and he told me that theposition was a secretaryship which would involve little labor and affordus a luxurious home with excellent salary. He had never been a successin his profession, owing chiefly to the fact that he was dissipated, andI had seriously considered leaving him and going back to the stage. ButI had decided to give him another chance, and since he appeared to findmy questions concerning this new work annoying, I agreed to go and allowhim to explain more fully when we should arrive.
"We went down in our own car and arrived at Rest Hollow inmid-afternoon. My husband showed me over the house and grounds and Ithought I had never seen such a beautiful place. There was no one aboutwhen we came, and after he had given me every opportunity to befavorably impressed with the new home, we went to an upstairssitting-room in the left wing, and he told me, while he smoked one ofthe expensive-looking cigars that he found there, further detailsconcerning his employer. I learned that he was an invalid, a young manby the name of Roger Kenwick, who was recuperating from too strenuousservice overseas. We discussed the matter for only a few minutes beforemy husband announced that it was time for him to go to the depot andmeet his charge, who was being brought up from Los Angeles by theprevious companion, who had taken him there to be outfitted with winterclothes.
"This development in the case rather startled me, and as we walked alongthe upper hall and over into the right wing, which he said had beenrecently cleaned but was not to be used, I demanded more specificdetails concerning the arrangement. I wanted particularly to know whythere was to be a change of 'secretaries' and whether the young manhimself was willing to accept the companionship of people whom he hadnever seen.
"My husband had been drinking. I think he must have found a well-stockedwine-closet at Rest Hollow. And he finally grew furious at myinsistence. The more angry he became the more he betrayed to me the factthat there was something to conceal. He had never told me the name ofthe man who had offered him this position, but I knew that there must bean intermediary. While I continued to question him he opened the door ofone of the rooms in the right wing, hoping, I suppose, to distract myattention. We went on with our discussion there. And at last I refusedpointblank to have anything to do with the affair, and told him that Iwas going to leave him and go back to the profession that would affordme an honest living. This infuriated him. He lost all self-control andconfessed then, what I had already begun to suspect, that young Kenwickwas a mental patient and had been in no way consulted in thearrangement. This disclosure terrified me, for I knew that my husbandwas not a competent person for such a responsibility. Hot words followedbetween us, and ended in his knocking me senseless on the floor. When Irecovered consciousness, perhaps an hour later, I found myself lockedinto the room with no possible means of escape. The blow had dislodged avertebra and I was in horrible pain. For a long time I lay on the bedmassaging the injured place and trying to get comfortable.
"Early in the evening I heard some one being dragged into the house fromthe rear. I was unable to see anything, of course, but I coulddistinctly hear footsteps and the subsequent running around of anattendant. I concluded that my husband had returned drunk, and I wasrelieved to know that he had evidently not brought the patient with him.I knew that I had no recourse but to wait until the stupor had worn offand my husband came to release me. I spent a wakeful and wretched night.In the morning----"
Here a vivid and convincing description of her first encounter with thepatient ensued. She drew a clear-cut picture of her own horror inhearing footsteps outside her door and of having the name "RogerKenwick" called in through the closed portal; of her terror at findingherself unaccountably alone with a man whom she believed to be a violentmaniac.
Here Dayton held up the narrative. "What evidence did he give toconvince you of his insanity?'
"None at first. He seemed to talk quite rationally, and fearing that Imight make him angry if I kept silence, I made evasive answers to hisquestions. He prepared food and sent it up to me at what I know now musthave been immense physical cost to himself. I had come to the conclusionthat he, like myself, was the victim of some foul conspiracy and haddecided to risk confiding in him when all at once his manner changed. Hebegan to talk wildly of finding a loaded revolver and of shooting anyone who came near the place. A few minutes later, for no apparentreason
, I heard him smash a window in the room just under mine. Myterror increased a hundredfold, for I know absolutely nothing about theproper care of the insane. Late that same night I heard him crawl outthrough the broken window, and he called up to me that he was eithergoing to get help or commit suicide.
"Almost insane myself now with terror, I waited until I heard hisfootsteps grow faint in the distance, then worked at the lock of mydoor, and at last succeeded in picking it with a pen-knife. Then Irushed downstairs, turned on the lights, and tried to make my escape. Ihad several of my own personal keys in my possession, and with one ofthese I opened the front door, which had been securely locked, I supposeby the gardener. My one frantic object was to get away and find myhusband.
"But just as I got the door open I heard a shot fired from the side ofthe house. I hurried around there, and when I reached the spot fromwhich the sound had come, I found just what I feared--a man lying deadunder the window. I thought, of course, that it was the patient who hadkilled himself in a mania, as he had threatened to do. Filled withhorror at the idea of leaving him there alone and uncovered in thestorm, I ran back to the living-room, picked up the first thing at hand(an Indian blanket), and threw it over him. Then I hurried to thenearest house, about a mile away, and gave the alarm.
"Believing that it was my husband's neglect that had caused the tragedy,my purpose was to find him and get his version of the story before Ibetrayed him. So I furnished no further information to the authoritiesin town save that Roger Kenwick, the inmate of Rest Hollow, hadcommitted suicide. I really knew nothing else about it but that barefact.
"But that night I discovered, when I reached Mont-Mer, that my husbandhad been killed in an auto accident while coming out from the depot. Iwent to the morgue and identified his body, ordered the remains to beshipped north for interment, and left, unknown to any one, on the latenorthbound train. The undertaker told me that there had been no othervictim of the tragedy, so I reasoned that the story which Mr. Kenwickhad told me about a sprained leg was true, after all, that he had beeninjured in the catastrophe and had, by a curious freak of chance, foundhis way back alone to the very place that was awaiting him and in whichhe had been living for the preceding ten months."
Dayton declared himself satisfied with the testimony and turned thewitness over to the prosecution. The district attorney had recovered hisinterest. "Mrs. Marstan," he said, groping for his glasses, "can youproduce a certificate of marriage to Dr. Marstan?"
"I cannot. Important papers, including that, were among the few thingsthat I took to Rest Hollow in November, and you have been informed thatthe place is completely destroyed."
"That will do."
She stepped down from the stand, and for the first time her eyes restedupon the prisoner. In them was an expression that would have given himnew courage had he seen it, but Roger Kenwick sat motionless as astatue, his gaze fixed immutably upon the floor. It was only when thename of the next witness was called that he came back to a sense of hissurroundings. "Call Granville Jarvis."
Dayton surveyed the Southerner sharply before he put his first question."You are the detective whom Richard Glover employed in San Francisco toshadow the prisoner?"
"I am."
"How long were you in Mr. Glover's employ?"
"About two weeks."
"Two _weeks_? Why did you give up the case then?"
"Because at the end of that time I was convinced that Roger Kenwick wasneither mentally unbalanced nor guilty of any crime. I communicated thisopinion to Mr. Glover and resigned from further service."
"But you still continued to shadow the prisoner?"
"I still continued to cultivate his acquaintance. I considered him oneof the most interesting men I had ever met."
"And your connections with him since then have been of a purelyfriendly character? Not in any way professional, Mr. Jarvis?"
"No, I can't say that. For a few weeks after I had resigned from Mr.Glover's service I was asked to take up the case again from a differentangle; employed, I may say, by some one else."
"By whom?"
For just an instant the witness hesitated. Then, "By Mr. ClintonMorgan."
"Describe that incident, please."
Jarvis clasped his hands behind his head and stared off into space. "Itwas near the end of December that Professor Morgan came to my rooms oneevening and asked my assistance on the case of Richard Glover."
For the first time since the beginning of the trial, the chief witnessfor the prosecution betrayed an unguarded emotion. The narrow slit ofamber, showing between his drooping lids, widened.
"My caller," Jarvis went on, "explained to me that he and his sister,who were friends of Roger Kenwick, had stumbled upon a clue the previousday that had made them suspect that there was foul play about his death;that perhaps he might even be alive after all, and a base advantagetaken of his helplessness."
Here Dayton interjected a question. "Was there any special reason whyProfessor Morgan should have chanced upon you as the detective for thisinvestigation? Had you had any previous connection with him?"
"Only an academic connection. He knew, through university affiliations,that I was out here on the coast doing some research work for Columbiain my chosen profession--criminal psychology."
"Then you are not a detective?"
"Not in the strict sense of the word. The finding out of a criminal isonly the introductory part of my interest."
"Proceed with your story, Mr. Jarvis."
"Well, Professor Morgan and I had lunched together several times over atthe Faculty Club on the campus, so I was not greatly surprised toreceive a call from him. Furthermore, having heard the other side ofthis case, I was much interested in the opportunity to study it from anew angle. For while I was in Mr. Glover's employ, I had, unsuspected byKenwick himself, subjected him to a variety of exacting psychologicaltests. Under the pretext of making some photographic experiments inwhich I was at that time interested, I had enlisted his aid on severaloccasions and in this way had made a rather thorough examination of hisfive senses, his power of association, his memory (both forretentiveness and recall), and had tried him out, by means of variousathletic games, for muscular cooerdination, endurance, poise, and manyother essentials of normality. In only one of these did I find himdefective. And that one was memory.
"My research was made the more interesting by the fact that shortlyafter I undertook the work for Mr. Glover the subject gave me,voluntarily and quite unsuspectingly, the complete story of his strangeadventure at Rest Hollow, an adventure for which he frankly confessedthat he could not account. It coincided exactly with the hypothesiswhich I had established for him; that he had at one period of his lifebeen mentally unbalanced, and that he had in some way re-gained hissanity but not completely his memory. When I knew that there was likelyto be a crime attributed to him (for Mr. Glover had hinted as much) myinterest doubled. For Mr. Kenwick had on various occasions shown himselfpossessed of the highest ideals and a fineness of caliber which I havenot often encountered. And so, in the employ of Professor Morgan, Ishifted the focal point and turned the search-light of science upon theaccuser. It has resulted in the most startling revelations."
There was an inarticulate stir in the crowded room. From the rear seatsmen and women strained forward to catch every word as it fell, clear-cutand decisive, from the scientist's lips. Jarvis sat with one hand thrustinto his pocket, and his keen eyes fixed upon the group of lawyersbelow. A casual observer of the scene might easily have mistaken hisposition and assigned to him the role of prosecuting attorney.
"There was an insurmountable barrier, of course," he continued, "to mymaking any personal examination of Mr. Glover, as I had done with theformer subject. One man was innocent and unsuspecting; the other, I feltcertain, would be on his guard. And he was. Since I left his service,Richard Glover has avoided me. So a more indirect means of accomplishingmy task had to be devised. After some consideration I decided to enlistthe aid of an ally whom I knew to be both cleve
r and discreet."
A long-drawn sigh swept the court-room. It was that sigh, a mixture ofeagerness and satisfaction by means of which an audience at a theaterindicates to the actors that the performance is living up to itsadvertisements.
"Mr. Kenwick himself," the witness went on in his calm, even voice, "hadcalled my attention to a certain Madame Rosalie, a spiritualisticmedium, who was taking the city by storm. He had interviewed her for hispaper, and from his description I imagined that she might be able andwilling to assist me. So I went to see her, and at the first mention ofMr. Kenwick's name she became intensely interested."
Here Dayton's voice, sounding a curious little note of exultation, brokein again. "You have referred to this medium as 'Madame Rosalie.' Wasthat her professional or her real name?"
"Her professional name. Her real name, as she disclosed it to me on theoccasion of my first call, was Madeleine Marstan."
Another moment of silence and then the witness proceeded. "Having toldme her real name, she went on to describe her unexpected encounter, afew days previously, with Roger Kenwick, who she had thought was dead.It seemed that when Kenwick had come to her for a sitting, his name hadbeen accidentally revealed to her by another client, and it had struckher with the force of a blow. For it recalled to her mind a horribleadventure at Mont-Mer, which she narrated for me then in detail. Atfirst she had surmised that this must be some relative of theunfortunate young man, and she had done all she could, she said, tostart him upon the track of the tragedy. When she discovered that it wasthe man himself, she was glad to place all her powers at my disposal.For she had returned to the city in November with two dominatingpurposes; first to find some employment which would bring in quick moneyand so pay her husband's debts and clear his name, and second todiscover, if possible, the identity of the man who had led them bothinto the miserable Mont-Mer trap, which resulted so disastrously forevery one concerned in it. She had not been able to make a stagecontract, she said, for the season was too far advanced, and so she hadturned to the occult, in which she had always felt a deep interest, andfor which she knew herself to have an unaccountable talent. Fortunatelyher strange psychic ability had caught the attention of one of theuniversity faculty and she had been given just the publicity which sheneeded.
"And so we deliberately plotted between us the scientific testing ofRichard Glover. I prepared a list of apparently random words in whichwere mingled what I call 'dangerous terms'; that is, words which wereconnected with the adventure at Rest Hollow. When these and the othertests were ready, I induced Glover, by means of a casual suggestion froma mutual acquaintance, to seek the aid of 'Madame Rosalie.' I feltcertain that if he were not intimately connected with the tragedy hewould scorn this idea, and that if he were, it was exactly the time thathe would turn to the supernatural for aid. And I was not mistaken. Foralmost immediately he called upon the clairvoyant. And his response tothe tests for association was amazing even to me. If I may quote fromthe list of words----" He drew a folded paper from his pocket. "Amongmany perfectly irrelevant terms I had smuggled in such words as'blanket' and 'window' and 'oleander.' Madame Rosalie reported that hisgaze always returned to such suggestive words (despite her admonition tolook at something else) before she could change the card. Thesubconscious response to evil association was almost perfect. There weremany other tests, of course, and by the time he had completed them hehad shown an intimate knowledge of the crime at Rest Hollow and anuneasiness from which any skilful psychologist could take hisstarting-point. And then, as a culminating incident, he supplied to themedium, quite of his own accord, the name 'Rest Hollow,' and put to herthe unexpected question, 'Where is Ralph Regan?'
"Having been thus convinced that he was the man we sought, Mrs. Marstanand I continued our investigations together. She went out with him, uponseveral occasions, and once, by pre-arrangement, accompanied him to thetheater. On the same evening I invited Kenwick, and, all at once, calledhis attention to Glover. The response was like match to powder. Thevisual image of his former warden restored, in large degree, his memory.He was eager to reestablish the connection. Mrs. Marstan had beencareful to point out Kenwick to her escort, and the result was just whatwe had foreseen. It was he who evaded the encounter, supplying a pretextupon which he and Mrs. Marstan immediately left the theater.
"But Glover now suspected that he was entrapped. He had already, I knew,put another detective upon Kenwick's track. When news was published ofMrs. Fanwell's arrival in Mont-Mer, and the subsequent demand to havethe disappearance of her brother investigated, he decided that his onlycourse was to act at once. Mrs. Marstan, aided by her unmistakablepsychic ability, had advised him to follow his third plan, and thisplan was to have Kenwick convicted of murder."
"And this was the report that you turned over to Professor Morgan at theend of your investigation?" Dayton inquired.
"This was the report. I was working on it with him up in San Franciscountil late last night. We almost missed the train trying to fit togetherthe final details. But I think the story, as I have given it to you, isnow complete."
"Now, one other thing, Mr. Jarvis. In the first part of your testimonyyou said that Mr. Morgan told you that he had stumbled upon a clue thathad made him suspicious of Glover. Did he disclose to you the nature ofthat clue?"
"Not at first. I told him that I preferred to work upon some theories ofmy own, unprejudiced by any evidence that he might have to offer."
"And how many times have you seen Mr. Morgan since then?"
"Only once. We came down from San Francisco together last night."
"Then you made no reports to him before?"
For the first time, the witness hesitated. Then his reply came with thecustomary clearness. "Not to him. I have reported to Miss Morgan onseveral occasions."
"Then you have been really working with her upon this case?"
"Yes, almost entirely with her."
There was a very obvious reluctance in his voice now, but Dayton went onimperturbably. "When you came down from San Francisco last night, Mr.Jarvis, was Professor Morgan's sister in your party?"
"Yes."
Dayton swept a glance over the rows of faces before him. "Is Miss Morganin the court-room now?"
"She has just come in." The promptness with which the witness had givenhis earlier testimony served to make his present reluctance the moreapparent.
Dayton brought his eyes back to the witness-stand. "That will do."
Jarvis stepped down. The voice of the auditors, beginning in a subduedmurmur, rose in marked crescendo. No word in it could be distinguishedfrom another. Yet upon Roger Kenwick's sensitive nerves this messagefrom the outer world registered. It was unmistakably applause.
For the first time since the trial began, he felt his mask of gravenindifference slipping from him. He was trembling in every fiber, andwith one unsteady hand he made a pathetic effort to quiet the other. Andthen there fell upon his ears like the crash of thunder Dayton's curtcommand, "Call Miss Morgan."
The Rest Hollow Mystery Page 18