CHAPTER VI
THE INQUEST CONCLUDED
Whatever my inclination may have been, I had no opportunity the next dayto work on the case and scarcely any for thought of it. An importantbusiness matter took me out of town by an early train and kept me awayover night so that I got back only in time to attend poor White'sfuneral the morning following, and then to hurry to the adjournedhearing before the Coroner.
In some respects I regretted my absence, as I might have become morefamiliar with the case in the interim had I been at hand, but I feltfresher for the change and diversion and ready and keen to make the mostof every bit of evidence.
The crowd in the little court-room was greater and the interest seemedmore intense than upon the first day.
The morning papers had hinted vaguely at newly discovered importantevidence and a possible clue to the identity of the murderer and aglance at the face of Inspector Dalton confirmed them. It was confident,almost triumphant, in expression, and I had misgivings that it boded nogood for Winters. Indeed, I looked over my shoulder to see if the policehad a prisoner, but it was not so.
Standing a little aside from the crowd were my three friends talkingquietly together and nearby Benton, as also two women closely veiled andseveral rather seedy looking men,--witnesses, undoubtedly.
When the jurors were all in their seats the Coroner requested Dalton toproceed with the evidence and Van Bult was called. He advanced promptlybut without haste and, taking the oath, faced the jury. He was perfectlycomposed, and gave his testimony in a clear low voice without hurry andwithout hesitation. It differed very little from that of Davis andLittell and threw no new light on the case.
When he concluded he turned to the Inspector for further questions.Dalton asked him what were the denominations of the bills he had lefton White's table and if he remembered where he had obtained them. Heanswered they were fifty-dollar bills and that they were new ones whichhe had obtained from the American National Bank where he had drawn fivehundred dollars in fifties.
On being asked if he had any of them with him, he took one from hispocket-book and handed it to me. The Inspector here turned to one of thepolicemen and despatched him on some errand. He then asked the witnesswhere he had been at the time of the preceding hearing, and was answeredthat he had gone to Buffalo by an early train the morning of the murderand returned only the succeeding evening, too late to attend.
Dalton asked him if his trip had not been a sudden one, and what hadtaken him. He replied that his trip was not unexpected and that it hadbeen on personal business. The Inspector seemed inclined to push hisquestions but changed his mind and allowed him to leave the stand. Ifelt relieved, for I had seen by Van Bult's expression that he was notdisposed to submit to further questions concerning himself and I knewhis temper would not brook insistence from the Inspector.
The night-officer, the substance of whose testimony had been told to mein the Inspector's office as I have related, then testified. He gave hisaccount of the happenings of the night just as I had heard them and inanswer to a few direct questions stated positively that it was not laterthan a quarter after one o'clock when White left the house that nightwearing the cap and ulster, that he had seen him wear them more thanonce and knew them. That it was about a half-hour later when he had seena man looking in White's window and some little time later, probablystill before two o'clock, when the same man came out of the vestibuleand hurried away, turning up Sixth Avenue. That he wore a light coat andbrown derby hat and that he thought he could recognize him if he saw himagain.
The witness impressed me as honest and painstaking in his work but notas especially clever. The effect of his evidence upon the jury and allpresent was plain. They had hung on his every word with breathlessattention. To them it evidently seemed, as to the police, that they hadfixed upon the criminal.
At my request the Inspector asked the officer if the man he had seenleaving the vestibule had White's ulster with him, and he answeredpositively that he had not.
My intention, of course, was to call to the notice of the jurors itsunaccounted-for disappearance. I was not, however, encouraged to hope Ihad been successful, for from the indifferent expression with which theanswer was received by most of them at least, they apparently thought itgratuitous and I realized that it would require a lucid argument toawaken them to its importance.
As the officer left the stand, I wondered whom the next witness wouldbe, and if I was ever to hear anything further of the ulster or if itsdisappearance was to remain unexplained, to be ignored! I remembered,however, Detective Miles's promise, "We will find it if it is notdestroyed," and felt sure he would keep his word, and this expectationwas promptly confirmed.
"Call Mrs. Bunce!" and one of the ladies I had previously observed cameforward. She was past middle age and plain but respectable looking.
"Where do you live?" she was asked. She gave her residence--a house onNineteenth Street, west of Sixth Avenue, on the north side and only ablock west of White's house.
She kept a lodging-house, she said.
An officer, by order of Dalton, now unwrapped a large package andproduced the ulster. Miles smiled at me and I nodded my approval. Thewitness was asked if she knew anything about it. She identified itimmediately and explained that she had found it lying over a chair inher front hall when she came down early the morning of White's death.She did not know how it came there; it was not there when she retiredabout eleven o'clock. No inmate of the house owned such an article thatshe knew of. In fact no one lived in the house but herself and one otherlady--and she looked toward her companion,--and a servant girl. TheInspector asked her nothing further, and Miss Stanton was then called.
When Mrs. Bunce left the stand, a slight, graceful woman came quicklyforward and took her place and as she lifted her veil to take the oath,a very pretty face was disclosed. She was young, not much more thantwenty, I should say, and had the dark hair and the blue eyes of theIrish type. The gray hat she wore with the big tilted brim had a jauntylook, while it cast a softening shadow over her face, and aclose-fitting tailor gown of gray home-spun fitted well her trim figure.Altogether she was a very attractive-looking woman. When she spoke hervoice was low and not unrefined, but there was a slight metallic tone toit and a lack of sensitive modulation that was a bit disappointing. Hereyes, too, when she looked at you, though undeniably handsome, were toodirect and persistent in their glance to be altogether pleasing; therewas also a little hard look about the mouth that should not have beenthere in a woman. I had never seen her before, but I knew of her quitewell as the somewhat questionable friend of White's of whom we had beentalking on the night of his death, and I took perhaps a greaterinterest in her on that account than I might otherwise have done. Inoticed, too, that Davis, Littell, and Van Bult were also observing herclosely, the latter with his monocle critically adjusted. So far as Iwas aware, however, none of them knew her except by reputation.
I was amused to see the Inspector straighten up and unconsciously plumehimself a little as he prepared to question her and his voice wasgentler and his manner more deferential than it had been.
"This is Miss Stanton, I believe, Miss Belle Stanton?" and he smiledencouragingly.
"Yes, Inspector," she answered.
"We will not detain you any longer than necessary, Miss Stanton, and youmust not be nervous," he continued, still with the same reassuringmanner, and she smiled sweetly at him in return.
I felt myself getting out of temper. What business had Dalton indulgingin gallantry and platitudes when engaged on an official investigationthat involved life and death? I fear my manner or expression must havesuggested my feelings, for he resumed his business-like tone andconducted his examination from then on more tersely, though he could notquite abandon a little gallantry of manner.
"I believe, Miss Stanton, that you reside with Mrs. Bunce?" The answerwas in the affirmative.
"And have you any knowledge of the finding of that ulster?"
"I understand from Mrs. Bunce
that it was found in her hallway, though Idid not see it there till later in the morning, and I do not know how itcame there," was the answer.
"Did you ever see it before or have you any knowledge of its owner?"
"Yes," she said, "I have seen it a number of times when worn by Mr.Arthur White."
"Then you knew Mr. White," Dalton asked.
"Yes, I have known him for about a year"; and the questions and answerscontinued in rapid succession:
"Was he a particular friend of yours?"
"He was."
"Was he in the habit of visiting you and sometimes in the evening,rather late, perhaps?"
"He was."
"As late as one o'clock?"
"Yes, sometimes, not often."
"Did Mr. White have a latch-key to the house?"
"He did."
"Had you seen him on the evening or night before the ulster was found?"
"I had not, nor for a couple of days."
"Have you any knowledge of Mr. White or of any one else having been atyour house late that night or any knowledge of how the ulster camethere?"
"I have not."
"It was through you, was it not, that its discovery was reported to thepolice?"
"It was; I heard of Mr. White's death, and considered it my duty to haveso curious a coincidence reported."
"Thank you, Miss Stanton. I think that is all; we won't trouble you anylonger," Dalton concluded.
The witness smiled her thanks brightly to her interrogator as she leftthe stand, but I thought she seemed troubled and somewhat sad too inspite of her apparent indifference. As she rejoined her companion shereplaced her veil and, turning her back to the room, stood lookingpensively out of the window.
The Inspector evidently considered that he had exhausted the witness,but I was far from satisfied and I meant sometime to see more of MissStanton; I felt that through her might yet be found a clue that wouldexplain the presence of the ulster in that house.
Miss Stanton was succeeded on the stand by a flashy-looking man of thegambler type who gave his name as James Smith, and his occupation asdealer at a faro lay-out on Sixth Avenue near Twenty-seventh Street.
He was asked if he had charge of the game on the previous Monday nightand said he had. The Inspector then handed him a fifty-dollar bill andasked if he had seen it before and, if so, under what circumstances.Smith carefully examined the bill, reading off it the name of thebank--the American National--and the number. He then answered that hehad given that same bill the previous night to the Inspector, who hadcome to his place to get it.
In answer to another question, he said that he had obtained the billabout two o'clock or a little later Tuesday morning from a man who hadlost it at his game. He stated further that the man was unknown to him,but that he thought he could recognize him should he see him again. Thenpointing to one of the witnesses, he said:
"That man was with him!"
All eyes were turned in the direction he indicated where a shabby,dissipated looking young fellow was standing by himself pulling at hismustache with an air of assumed bravado.
"That will do," said Dalton, and the witness stepped hurriedly down,looking relieved over his dismissal.
The bill the witness had identified, together with the one Van Bult hadgiven me, were then compared by the officials and the jury, and theyproved to be of the same bank issue and series. I saw the jurors lookingwith admiration at the Inspector, and I felt myself that much credit wasdue him.
The police work had been quickly and well done. Their case was indeedthoroughly "worked up," and I had to confess to myself, despite mydisapproval of the method, that if they had not started with theassumption that Winters was the guilty man, they would not have foundthe money or secured any evidence to direct the verdict of the jury; butthe question still remained, was its conclusion to be the true one? Timewould tell.
Almost before the sensation created by the last evidence had subsided,Dalton called to the stand the man pointed out by the witness. He cameforward slouching and ill at ease and the looks cast upon him from allsides were not reassuring. Having taken the oath, he stood sullenlyawaiting the questions.
In answer to the usual question he gave his name as Lewis Roberts.
"You were in Smith's place Tuesday morning," the Inspector stated,rather than asked him.
"I was," he answered.
"You were with another man," he continued in the same peremptory tone.
"I was."
"Did you see him lose that fifty-dollar bill," pointing to the one Smithhad identified.
"I saw him lose a fifty-dollar bill--I do not know that it was thatone."
This was plainly a difficult witness. The Inspector leaned toward him,looking him straight in the eyes, and put his next question slowly andwith emphasis on each word.
"Who was that man?"
Just as slowly and firmly came the answer, each word falling distinctlyin the stillness.
"I do not know."
It was almost a sigh of relief that escaped from the audience, butDalton continued:
"Then how did you meet him and when?"
"That night in a saloon on the corner of Sixth Avenue and Twenty-FourthStreet; we got to drinking together there."
"And where did he get this money?"
The witness seemed inclined to answer more freely now, and replied thatit was suggested that they go and play the bank, but neither of them hadany money, and then his companion said he knew where he thought he couldget some and went off saying he would be back before long.
"What time was that?" the Inspector interrupted.
The witness thought "it was some time after one o'clock," and continuingsaid, "the man was gone about half an hour and then returned with thefifty dollars and we went to Smith's place and lost it."
"And what did you do next?" he was asked.
"We had no more money and so we left. We parted outside and I did notsee him again."
"And so," said the Inspector, "you don't know him? Do you think youwould know him if you saw him again?"
"I do not know."
"That is all," said Dalton; "go back to your place. We may want you."
The tone implied a threat and the witness answered it with a defiantlook. He had evidently been lying, but not to shield himself, I thought.I wondered who the next witness would be; there did not seem occasionfor many more for already the police had pretty nearly put the noosearound the neck of their man.
Turning, after a few minutes delay, to Dalton to see what might be thecause of it, I saw he was in earnest conversation with a sergeant. Hewas evidently receiving some important report, for he listenedattentively and gave an order in response which despatched the officerrapidly from the room. Then giving his attention again to theproceedings, he called another witness.
It was the paying teller of the American National Bank. His evidencerequired but a few minutes. He stated he had paid Mr. Van Bult fivehundred in "fifties" on the morning before White's death, and that theywere new bills just received by the Bank from the Sub-Treasury. On beingshown the bill produced by Van Bult and that recovered from the gamblinghouse, he identified them as two of the bills thus received by the Bank,though he said he could not state positively they were the same drawn byVan Bult as a few others had also been paid out. However, it was hardlynecessary that he should do so as every one was satisfied the billobtained from the gambling house was one of those left by Van Bult onWhite's table.
It only remained now for the man who had lost it to explain how he cameby it. Would the explanation be satisfactory? That was the one materialpoint.
When the paying teller had concluded it was late in the afternoon. Itwas dark out-of-doors and the gas had been lighted within, but the crowdhad not diminished; on the contrary, it had been steadily augmentedwherever a new spectator had found a chance to wedge his way into thethrong. So intense was the interest that neither the Coroner nor a jurorhad suggested any recess. They sat scarcely moving in their seats,intent on
ly on the words of each succeeding witness. All felt somethingfinal must come soon. The evidence was logical and dovetailed perfectly;it all pointed to one man. Who was he? The police must know, they couldnot have failed in this one vital particular after succeeding so fullyin all others. I could read these thoughts in the faces of those aboutme, in their expectant attitudes; and I felt they were not to bedisappointed. The police had done their work thoroughly and theInspector had submitted its results with telling effect. If it were hispurpose to work his evidence up to a climax he had succeeded and themoment had now come for the crowning of his success,--the identificationof the man. After that there would be little left apparently for thelawyers of the State to do; but I felt there might be something for someone to undo.
There was a slight disturbance among the spectators at one side of theroom near the door; "another spectator struggling for a nearer view," Ithought to myself; and then amid an expectant hush the night-officer wasrecalled to the stand.
"Officer," said Dalton, "you said you thought you would recognize theman you saw that night if you should see him again; look about you now!Do you see him?"
The officer let his gaze pass over the jury and witnesses and slowly onto where the spectators were gathered at the farther end of theroom,--men retreating before the searching glance as from the eye offate,--and then he leaned forward and fixed his look on a man standingwhere the retreating crowd had left him almost alone:
"That is the man," he said.
I looked; it was Winters! He wore the light coat and was fingeringnervously the brown derby hat which he held. His head was bent, but onecould see that his face was very pale and his eyes dull and heavy fromdrinking. It was a pitiful sight, this helpless accused man, seeminglyunconscious of his position, and I turned away; but the crowd stared asthough fascinated even while they shrank from him.
The Inspector next recalled the witness Smith.
"Can you identify among the persons present the man who lost thefifty-dollar bill at your gambling table?" he asked.
Without hesitation he also pointed to Winters and said that he was theman.
There was a moment's delay, and I knew Dalton was hesitating to put hisquestion of identification to the witness Roberts, for fear of damaginghis case by a denial, but professional duty prevailed, and he called himup and asked him pointedly if that was not the man who was with himTuesday morning and lost the fifty-dollar bill.
The witness at first seemed disposed to evade the question, but hiscourage failed him and in a low voice he admitted that it was. ThenDalton turned slowly and faced Winters and said:
"Henry Winters! You are under suspicion of having killed Arthur White.Have you anything to say?"
I looked at Winters again. He had not changed his position, but hisglance was turned to Dalton with a look of dumb appeal and then it wentwandering round the room as if he were struggling to understand it all,but he made no answer, and after a moment his eyes fell again and herelapsed into his former insensibility. At a signal, an officer who hadbeen standing back of him advanced, and handcuffing him, led him withoutresistance from the room.
The crowd had been silent during this scene, but when he was gone therewas that stir among them that is heard when people rouse themselvesafter an ordeal.
By an effort I recovered my self-possession in time to give appropriateattention to the closing proceedings. The Inspector was announcing inhis former business-like tone, that the evidence was all in and the juryat liberty to find their verdict.
There was no doubt as to what it would be. They withdrew and were gone afew minutes for form's sake only and on returning the foreman announcedthe verdict:
"The jury find that Arthur White came to his death on the morning ofJanuary the --, 1883, in the city of New York, through a wounddeliberately inflicted by Henry Winters."
That was all.
The jury was dismissed, the crowd dispersed, and the first stage of thecase had closed.
A Master Hand: The Story of a Crime Page 6