CHAPTER IV
ASHTON-KIRK MAKES ONE VISIT, AND PLANS ANOTHER
Ashton-Kirk sat cross-legged upon a sofa, the amber bit of his Coblentzpipe between his teeth, and the wreaths of smoke curling above his head.About him were scattered bound volumes of police papers; and upon hisknees rested a huge book, canvas covered and seeming full of carefullyspaced entries done in a copper plate hand.
"I knew the 'Bounder' had gone along without much friction with thepolice," said the investigator; "but I'll admit that I'm a bit surprisedat the completeness of the thing."
A dapper young man who stood at a filing case, going over a thick insetof cards, laughed a little.
"I'll venture to say that there is not a police blotter in any largecity in the country that holds the name of Tom Burton," said he. "Butthere are dozens of other names--poor devils, rounded up in some riskyoperation of which the 'Bounder' was the instigator."
Ashton-Kirk nodded.
"One might call that 'dogging it,'" said he, "or it might be viewed asexceedingly clever work. It altogether depends upon the point of view.To maintain such an attitude in the background over a long period oftime calls for a rigorous self-repression. Burton was evidently acriminal of some parts."
"Well, looking at it from that side, I suppose it's so," said the dapperyoung man. "But I've been accustomed to seeing Burton and his kind as asort of dregs, and I was just a little surprised when you began to lookhim up."
Ashton-Kirk smiled and drew a long draft of smoke from the big pipe.
"It is, very likely, time wasted," he said; "for it's a hundred to onethat nothing----"
Here there came a long "blurr-r-r" from the lower part of the house, andthe investigator stopped short.
"I rather think," added he, "that I'll reduce the odds. For, unless I ammuch mistaken, that is Bat Scanlon's touch at the door-bell."
A few moments later, Stumph, Ashton-Kirk's man servant, entered thestudy, gravely.
"Mr. Scanlon, sir," he said.
The big form of Scanlon filled the doorway and then advanced into theroom.
"Didn't expect to see you again to-day," said he. "But there's a littlematter came up that I thought I'd get your advice on before I went anyfurther."
"Good," said the investigator, briskly. Then to the grave-faced servant:"Stumph, get these books away. And Fuller," to the dapper young man,"I'd like to have transcripts of those Treasury Department papers atonce."
"Very well," said Fuller.
When the investigator and his caller were alone, the former offered theother some cigarettes.
"These are Porto Ricos of unusual flavor," he said. "Sent me by aplanter for whom I chanced at one time to do a small service."
He put aside the Coblentz, and with Scanlon lighted one of thecigarettes. The full rich aroma of the island herb drifted through theroom like a heavy incense; and under its influence the troubled lookwhich Scanlon's face had worn lightened a trifle.
"I guess I'm a little up in the air," admitted he, finally. "It's alwaysthat way with me when things begin to break wrong in anything I'minterested in. Just when I need all my nerve and judgment, I get asanxious as an old lady who's been sold the wrong kind of tea."
"You have no monopoly on the condition," smiled Ashton-Kirk. "It comesto all of us, and in just the way you've described." His singular eyeswere studying the big man's face, and in their depths was a sort of calmexpectancy. "The personal equation has many queer results. But what isthe cause of your present upheaval?"
Bat shook the ash from the cigarette into a pewter bowl at his elbow.
"It's this murder," he said. "You know I went to Stanwick to-day to lookthings over as per request."
"Have you made your report to Mrs. Burton?"
"Now, look!" exclaimed the big man. "Don't call her that! She wasBurton's wife for one week, and that's the extent of her use of thename."
"Very well," nodded Ashton-Kirk. "Cavanaugh is a good old name, and issounded just as easily."
"Yes, I called on her after I got back," said Bat. "But I had only a fewminutes to talk to her; it was at the theatre, for she had a rehearsalto-day, you see."
"Was there anything new to tell her?"
Here Bat related to the investigator the details of what he had seen andheard at the Burton home; Ashton-Kirk listened attentively; now and thena pointed question came through the little clouds and rings of smokewith which he had surrounded himself, but, save for this, he made nointerruption until Bat had finished.
"Dr. Shower, eh?" said he, after a little pause. "I'm rather wellacquainted with his method, and the fact that he's been given charge ofthe coroner's examination isn't a very hopeful sign. He's a sort ofpedant, who has come to think that the mixture of medical learning andknowledge of police conventions which he possesses makes him a paragonof efficiency."
"I noticed that he had a confident kind of a way with him," said Bat.
"Confidence is an excellent thing," spoke Ashton-Kirk. "A man does notgo far without it. But the sort kept in stock by Dr. Shower is rather ahindrance. When he has once arrived at a conclusion, he shuts his eyesand stops his ears to everything else. Osborne, now, is different; whilehe's a plodding kind of a fellow with very little imagination, he'sshrewd enough to accept advantages wherever he finds them." The speakeradded another cloud to those already hovering about him. "Miss Cavanaughwas satisfied with what you told her, I suppose?"
But Bat shook his head, and a good part of the old troubled lookreturned.
"She wasn't. As a matter of fact I could see that it worried her. When Ileft her she was fidgeting; and if Nora does that, something's wrong.But the worst didn't happen until about a half hour ago. I was back atmy place, and the 'phone bell rang. When I went to it I found it wasNora calling. And she was all excited once more."
"Ah!" said Ashton-Kirk, expectantly, "excited!"
"She started off by asking me to forgive her, and saying she must be agreat bother to me. But something had happened--something that hadscared her. As she came home from the theatre she heard the newsboyscalling their papers on the street corners. She couldn't quite make outwhat they were saying, so she had the car stop and her driver get one ofthe papers. Then she got the facts of the matter. Young Frank Burton hasbeen arrested for his father's murder."
"So!" said Ashton-Kirk. "I expected to hear that had happened. For, fromwhat you've told me, the police have a fair tissue of evidence."
"That's about what I told Nora. But it bowled her over completely. Hervoice began to shake and I knew she was crying."
"'But he didn't do it,' she says. 'He didn't do it. He's innocent--Iknow he is.'
"I tried to reason with her," proceeded Bat. "But she wouldn't listen.She kept repeating that he was innocent--that he had suffered enough atthat man's hands while he was alive, and that he mustn't go on sufferingnow that the father was dead."
"Well?" asked Ashton-Kirk, as the other paused; "what then?"
"Then," said Scanlon, "she was on my neck to get him out of the thing. I_must_ do it! I _must_ not let them harm him! And all that kind ofthing. She seems to think that I've got a heavy drag with the police,and all there is for me to do is to snap my fingers and they'll sit upand perform. I tried to persuade her that this was a dream; but Icouldn't convince her. And the result was that I had to promise to seeher right away." Bat looked dolefully at his friend. "I'm on my waythere now," he said, "and I thought I'd stop in and ask what I'd betterdo."
Ashton-Kirk arose and took a turn up and down the room; then throwingaway the cigarette end, he paused in front of his friend and asked:
"What would you say if I suggested that I go with you?"
"Fine!" Scanlon jumped up, an expression of relief upon his face. "Thevery thing! Get your hat. My cab is still at the door. I couldn't haveasked for anything better than that."
Within five minutes the two were on the street--a street lined with finewide houses of a bygone time, but which was now a bedlam of throatyvoices, a whirling curre
nt of alien people, a miasma of stale smells.The taxi soon whirled them out of this section and into another,equally old, but still clinging to its ancient state. The houses weresquare fronted and solid looking, built of black-headed brick andtrimmed with white stone; there were marble carriage blocks andhitching-posts at the curb.
"I wonder how long before this will begin to go," said the investigator,as they alighted. "There is scarcely an old residential street leftunmarred in the big cities of the east."
"That is Nora's house--there with the scaffolding at the side. Take careyou don't step in that mortar. These fellows seem to slap their stuffaround and don't give a hang."
"I had no idea Miss Cavanaugh lived in this section," said Ashton-Kirk,after Scanlon had rung the bell, and they stood waiting on the steps.
"Why, you see, she's different. Naturally, she's a housekeeper. The bighotel or the glittering apartment house doesn't appeal to her. She getsall that when she's on the road."
A trim maid admitted them and showed them into a room hung withbeautiful tapestry and excellently selected paintings. In a few momentsthere came a light hasty step and Nora stood framed in the doorway. Shewore a sort of soft, gauzy robe-like thing which clung to hermagnificently strong, yet completely youthful figure, causing her morethan ever to resemble a young Juno. The gleaming bronze hair wasgathered in a great coil at the back of her head; her wonderfullymodeled arms were bare; the right was clasped about with a heavybracelet of what seemed raw, red gold.
"Bat!" she said, gladly, and then stopped short at sight of a stranger.
"This is Mr. Ashton-Kirk," said Scanlon, presenting his companion."You've heard me speak of him, I think."
Nora Cavanaugh held out her hand with that frankness which is always sofascinating in a beautiful woman.
"I am very glad to see you," she said. "And I recall very well what Iheard of you. It was that queer affair of the Campes, and the strangedangers which haunted the hills about their country place." Her eyeswere fixed steadily upon Ashton-Kirk as she spoke; the smile of welcomewas still in them; but behind this there was something else--a somethingwhich evidently interested Ashton-Kirk intensely.
"I've been telling Kirk of the thing at Stanwick," spoke Scanlon, asthey all three sat down at a west window, through which the lowering sunwas throwing its crimsoning touch. "He's a little interested and thoughthe'd like to hear what you had to say."
The smile went completely out of Nora's eyes; the sombre thing at theback of them came at once to the surface; and Ashton-Kirk saw her hand,as she lifted it to her face, tremble.
"The police are fools!" she declared. "Frank Burton is innocent. It isshameful to attribute any crime to him--but to accuse him of the murderof his father"--here a shudder ran through her--"it's horrible!"
"He'll have to carefully explain a number of things, though, before theauthorities change their minds," said Scanlon. "Not only have theycertain definite facts on him; but they have the notion that he's nottold them everything."
"He is innocent," protested Nora.
"Maybe so!" Bat shrugged his shoulders. "But I had a chance to look himover to-day, and while I liked his appearance, I agree with the copsthat he was holding back on them."
The girl rose and stood facing them.
"It may be that he is," she said, and there was a break in the rarevoice. "But why fix upon this so readily as a sign of guilt? Considerthe circumstances. He is the son of a man whose life was a continuousshame; there very likely was not a day that did not bring some freshknowledge of wrong-doing to the boy--some mean thing beneath contempt,which made him shrink and quiver. And now there comes another thing--alast and horrible one! It may be," and the beautiful arms lifted in agesture of despair, "that in this there was additional shame. Can youwonder, then, that he hesitated?"
Bat Scanlon did not reply, contenting himself with merely nodding hishead. This side of the thing had not occurred to him; but now that shehad pointed it out, it seemed quite reasonable. Ashton-Kirk fixed hissingular dark eyes upon the beautiful woman who stood so appealinglybefore them.
"Scanlon mentioned to me a while ago," spoke the investigator, "that youwere interested in doing what you could to help this young man. I makeit a point never to judge the merits of a case until I have examined itat close range. However, I will say this: From a distance, this matterbegins to show promise; so much, indeed, that I feel I must know moreabout it."
She looked at him, her hands twining together, nervously; but she didnot speak, and he went on:
"What you say about the police is largely true. They _are_ superficial,and the arrest of young Burton may not be at all warranted by the facts.As it happens, Miss Cavanaugh," easily, "there are no very pressingmatters to engage me just now; and since you are so interested, supposeI look into it, and see if I can gather up any stray threads missed bythe police."
Bat Scanlon brought his palms together in great satisfaction; but, tohis astonishment, when he looked at Nora he saw hesitancy plainlywritten in her beautiful face; indeed, there was more than hesitancy;refusal of the offer trembled upon her lips. But this was only for aninstant; a sudden rush of excitement seemed to possess her, and she heldout her hand to Ashton-Kirk, warmly.
"This is good of you," she said, "and I thank you a thousand times. Ifyou can, in any way, make it clear to Frank Burton's friends--to everyone--that he is not guilty, you'll do the best deed of your life; and,"here the great brown eyes opened widely, "you will be helping me morethan I can say."
"Very well," said the investigator. Going to a window, he stood with hisback to them looking at the sky, now blotched red and gold in the waningrays of the sun. He was motionless for a moment or two and then heturned, briskly.
"It's a pity there are not a few hours more of daylight," said he. "Formy experience has shown me that most cases, in which there is any doubt,do not stand delay. A few hours sometimes dims what otherwise would behopeful clues; traces which, had they been taken up in time, might haveled directly to the criminal, are rendered cold and useless."
"Couldn't something be done out at Stanwick to-night?" asked Bat,anxiously.
But the criminologist shook his head.
"It would be impossible," said he. "Night always puts any sort ofintelligent examination out of the question. But," and he looked at Norawith an alertness of manner which showed how his keen mind was alreadytaking hold, "the time between now and daylight need not be altogetherlost."
"What can we do?" she asked, eagerly.
"Sometimes even the smallest scrap of information is of great value,"said he. "The movements--the conversation of a suspect--or avictim--immediately before the crime, has more than once provided thething necessary to a successful solution."
"Why, yes, that would be true, of course." But the eagerness had goneout of her manner suddenly; her hands seemed to flutter at her breast."Small, seemingly unimportant things, even in my work, add greatly to aresult."
The keen eyes of Ashton-Kirk never left her face.
"About what time was it last night that your husband came here?" heasked.
"It must have been between eleven-thirty and twelve o'clock," shereplied, slowly. "I had just got home from the theatre."
"He demanded money, I believe?"
"Yes; that was always the cause of his visits."
"Will you tell me, as nearly as you can remember, what passed?"
"When I came in," said Nora, "I went directly to my own rooms. My maidfollowed me a few moments later, but just then there was a ring at thebell. The lateness of the hour gave me a feeling of uneasiness--it wereas though I subconsciously realized who was at the door. When the maidanswered the ring he pushed her aside, and I heard his feet running upthe stairs. The impulse arose in me to lock my door; at any other time Ithink I would have done so; but just then I felt aroused--I was bitterlyangry; that he should force himself upon me in such a way made me desireto face him--to tell him what I thought in very plain words."
"This was not your usual state
of mind when he visited you?"
"No." She bent her proud head humbly. "When I first learned his truecharacter, I left him in just that spirit; but when I had won my way byhard work, and he began persecuting me, I thought it better to give himthe money he asked and avoid his poisonous falsehoods."
"You were afraid of him?"
"Not of him--but of my public--of the world in general. He threatened mewith the divorce court. Divorce, with its humiliations, its confessionsof failure, its publicity, had always appalled me. The sneer 'anotheractress being divorced' made me a coward. He knew that; he had found itout, somehow; his great talent was in bringing weaknesses to thesurface. He detailed the charges he would bring against me; every one ofthem was a lie, but they were so ingenious, so plausible, so unutterablyslimy that I couldn't bear up against them. It was in that way he brokemy spirit."
"There was a hound for you!" said Bat Scanlon. "That is, if I'm notinjuring the hound family by the comparison."
"But last night," said Nora Cavanaugh, "I had lost all this fear of himand his threats. I don't know why. It wasn't really because he hadforced his way into my room, for he had done that before. It must havebeen that this was a sort of culmination--the breaking point. At anyrate, I refused his demands! I answered his sneers in a way which I sawtook him aback; he resumed his old threat of the divorce court, but Idefied him. Then, after about half an hour, he went away."
"That was all?"
"Yes."
The girl stood in such a position that the waning daylight fell fullupon her beautiful face. Ashton-Kirk said, quietly:
"Thank you." Then as she was about to turn toward Scanlon he added:"Pardon me; you have had a little accident, I notice."
Her hand went to her brow, and her eyes, startled and big, looked at himswiftly.
"I hadn't noticed it," he went on, quietly, "until you pushed your hairback a moment ago. It must have been very painful."
"Oh, yes--yes!" She hurriedly drew down some strands of the heavy bronzehair over an ugly, dark bruise near the temple. "I had forgotten. Yes,it was very painful, indeed, when it happened. You see," and she laughedin a breathless, nervous sort of way, "my maid left the door of adressing cabinet open in my room at the theatre, and as I bent over Istruck against it."
He murmured something sympathetically; and then looked at Scanlon, whoobediently arose.
"In the morning," said Ashton-Kirk, "we'll take the first train forStanwick; and by this time to-morrow evening we may have some news ofimportance for you."
"I hope so," she answered, "I sincerely hope so."
The maid entered in reply to a ring, and brought their hats and coats.
"It may be that you or your people, here in the house, can be of help tous," said Ashton-Kirk, evenly. "I should like to feel that I can counton that at any time."
"To be sure," Nora turned to the maid. "Anna, Mr. Ashton-Kirk is doingme a great service. Anything he asks must be done."
"Yes, Miss Cavanaugh," said the maid.
Then the two men bid the charming actress good-bye; when they hadclimbed into the cab and rolled away, the investigator lay back againstthe hard leather padding and closed his eyes. Scanlon looked at the keenoutline of the face with interest. It was an altogether moderncountenance, in perfect tune with the time; but, for all that, there wassomething almost mystic in it. It may have been that the mind whichweighed and valued so many things, unnoticed by the crowd, had givensomething of the same touch to the face as the pondering of the secretsof life is said to give to the oriental anchorites.
But after a little, the investigator sat upright.
"When does Miss Cavanaugh have a matinee?" he asked.
"Not until Saturday," replied Scanlon.
A look of annoyance came into the face of Ashton-Kirk.
"Too bad," said he. "Then we shall have to arrange something." Hereflected for a moment, snapping his fingers impatiently, as though foran idea. Then his countenance suddenly lighted up. "I have it! YoungBurton is in the county prison awaiting action of the Grand Jury. Whatmore natural thing than that she should visit him there to offersympathy and encouragement--say between two and five to-morrowafternoon."
"You mean----" and Bat looked at him, only dimly grasping what wasbehind the words.
"That I depend upon you to suggest this to her," said the other. "It'sthe sort of thing she'll do, once it's in her mind."
"But," asked the astonished big man, "what's it for?"
"I want to pay another visit to her house," said Ashton-Kirk, coolly,"when she is not there."
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