The Sixty-First Second

by Owen Johnson

  *CHAPTER VII*

  Gunther had a suite in one of the newer hotels that tower over theeastern entrance to the park. When Beecher arrived, a quiet, powerfullybuilt man was standing in front of the fireplace, smoking withenjoyment. Beecher recognized immediately Cyrus McKenna, formerly ofthe United States Secret Service, founder of the great detective agencythat bore his name.

  "Ted, shake hands with my good friend Mr. McKenna," said Gunther,appearing in the doorway with a refractory collar in his grasp."McKenna, shake hands with Mr. Beecher. Fire away, Ted. I'll be out ina second."

  "Glad to know you," said McKenna, grasping his hand.

  Beecher was aware of the quick, estimating scrutiny and a sense ofunusual physical vitality. But he was disappointed in his first glanceat this man whose investigations had been the terror of corruptpoliticians and unscrupulous agitators. McKenna was physically the idealdetective, in that not a feature possessed a trace of oddity which couldbetray him to the public, in which he thus mingled without fear ofrecognition. He was neither short nor tall, neither thin nor unusuallyheavy. His head was round, well-spaced, and evenly formed, withoutaffectation of mystery or astuteness, lit up by a jovial good humor whenanimated, and quite blank and indecipherable when in repose. The eyesalone, like the eyes of a painter or a sculptor seeking tones ormodelings that escape the common glance, were noticeable for a certainquality of penetration, expressed in the countenance by innumerable finelines that gathered in the eye-pits.

  "Mr. McKenna," said Beecher, who had an instinctive desire to impressthe detective with the lucidity of his observations, "I will give youquickly the details that are important. First, here is the plan of theapartment, which may or may not be of use."

  He went to the low table-desk at the side, and drew out paper andpencil. McKenna brought up a chair at his side, and Gunther, coming in,sat down opposite.

  "It concerns the theft of a ruby ring worth over fifteen thousanddollars," said Beecher, busy with his pencil, "taken last night, betweeneight and eleven, at the apartment of Mrs. Rita Kildair. Thecircumstances are so extraordinary that you will be interested in theproblem itself."

  The detective smiled in a slightly amused way and asked:

  "Am I retained in her interest or in yours?"

  "In mine," said Beecher quickly. "The theft took place at a socialgathering, you understand, and in the party were persons well known inNew York society. Mrs. Kildair, as is natural, particularly desiresthat nothing shall become public."

  "Does she know that you intend to consult me?"

  "No--and I am not sure I wish her to know."

  "Is she employing detectives?"

  "Yes."

  "Whom did the ring belong to?"

  "To Mrs. Kildair," said Beecher, annoyed that he had forgotten thisrather important detail.

  "Let me see the plan," said McKenna, who glanced at it a moment andnodded. "Now go on."

  "There were eleven persons present, including Mrs. Kildair," saidBeecher, after a moment's pause. McKenna took the pencil and prepared toinscribe the list. "Myself, Mr. and Mrs. Stanley Cheever--"

  "I can give you a pointer on them," said Gunther, speaking for the firsttime.

  "Unnecessary," said McKenna. "I know the card episode."

  "Mr. and Mrs. Bloodgood."

  "Mrs. Bloodgood--yes."

  "Mr. Garraboy."

  "Joseph L. or Edward C., the broker?"

  "The broker. Miss Nan Charters."

  "The actress--yes."

  "Miss Maud Lille."

  "Know anything about her?"

  "She's a journalist; writes books too, I believe."

  "Well?"

  "Bernard L. Majendie and John Slade."

  The detective raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  "They were there--together?"

  "They came separately. Slade joined the party at the last moment; hewas not expected."

  "A very interesting crowd," said the detective slowly, studying thelist. "What servants?"

  "None."

  "You are sure?"

  "Mrs. Kildair has only two, a Japanese butler and a lady's maid, both ofwhom were out."

  "You are positive?"

  "Absolutely. The occasion was an informal supper. Mrs. Kildair, whilepreparing the dishes, placed her three rings on the pin-cushion of herdressing-table--at this point here on the plans--fastening them with ahatpin. The table, as you see, can be easily seen both from the studioand the dining-room."

  "What were the circumstances of her placing the rings on thepin-cushion? First, when did it occur? After all the guests hadarrived?"

  "Yes," said Beecher, who immediately corrected himself. "No, I'm wrong;Slade arrived later. But, as I say, he was a surprise. Majendie was thelast of the invited party to come. Immediately afterward Mrs. Kildairwent into her bedroom to put on an apron and take off her rings."

  "Who was in the room?"

  "Mrs. Cheever, Miss Lille, and Garraboy," said Beecher slowly.

  "They saw her take off the ring?"

  "Yes; they even announced it later."

  "Was there much passing to and fro?"

  "All the time. I am quite sure every one was in the room severaltimes."

  "Did any one use the hall?" said the detective, indicating it on theplan. "I see it opens into the dining-room also."

  "Quite a number," said Beecher. "I remember using it myself. We wereall going and coming, carrying dishes, glasses, bottles, provisions."

  "One question: did you notice the ring on the pin-cushion yourself?"

  "Yes; I distinctly remember seeing two or three rings, I don't rememberwhich."

  "Go on."

  "After about three quarters of an hour of preparation, we took ourplaces at the table, with the exception of Mrs. Kildair, who was stillmoving about us. It was then that Slade came in, was introduced, andtook his place."

  "He did not pass into the bedroom, then?"

  "No. Mrs. Kildair went in immediately, took off her apron, anddiscovered the loss of the ruby ring."

  Beecher, without further interruptions from McKenna, recounted in detailthe return of Mrs. Kildair, the locking of the doors, the extinguishingof the lights, the announcement of the theft, the beginning of thecounting, the sound of the ring on the table, and the discovery of itssecond disappearance. Then he stopped, awaiting the questioning of thedetective.

  "No; go right on," said McKenna, with a little gesture of his pencilthat dotted an imaginary _i_.

  Beecher continued, describing the lighting of the lights, the confusionin the room, the sending for the detectives, the discussion as to theorder of search, and the failure to recover the ring. Omitting hispersonal observations of Miss Charters and their conversation in thecab, he recounted his return to Mrs. Kildair's, his meeting withGarraboy, the discovery of the detective, the strangeness of Mrs.Kildair's attitude, and her concealment of the identity of the nextvisitor. He concluded, and both young men looked at the detective as ifthey expected him to solve the problem on the instant--an attitude thatwas not lost on McKenna.

  "I suppose you young men believe every word that has been written ondeduction," he said, grinning and biting off the end of another cigar."Presume you've already determined that a woman took the ring, andlacked the nerve to face the risk--that the strong, daring nature of aman seized the opportunity the second time, and, because Slade andMajendie are millionaires and Bloodgood the respectable owner of anewspaper, the thief is either Garraboy, a gambler in stocks, orCheever, with an ugly reputation."

  The two young men smiled guiltily.

  "But I say, McKenna, you don't reject deduction entirely," said Gunther.

  "Oh, no, I believe in 'deduction forward,'" said McKenna, laughing. "IfI know there's a thief in the company, I deduce he'll steal if he getsthe chance. Now, before I put a few more questions to you, let me tellyou this. My business isn't in deducing how the theft was done (I getmy man and sweat him out; he'll
tell me that), but who did it; and forthat it don't take any deduction, either. Give me time, money, and nostrings on me, there isn't any crime can't be worked out."

  "But how the deuce are you going to locate a ring," said Beecher, "ifyou don't know whom to follow?"

  "The ring's the easiest part," said the detective. "You may not know it,but every stone of great value is what's called a named stone; everyjeweler knows of it. Now, there aren't many rubies worth over fifteenthousand floating around. If you don't believe it, I'll show you howeasy it's done. Inside a week I'll give you the history of the stoneand just how it came into the hands of Mrs. Kildair."

  "You mean no one can dispose of it to a jeweler without its beingrecognized?"

  "Unless he's done it within these twenty-four hours, which is quiteprobable if a certain suspicion of mine isn't far wrong."

  "Deduction," said Gunther, laughing.

  "Not entirely; and, besides, that's not quite fair. It just happens thatI may be interested in a couple of persons in your party from anothertack. No, gentlemen; deduction's all right, if it's honest deductionand if you use it in its place; but the great thing's motive.Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, get down to your motives and you getyour criminals. Show me the person who needed to steal that ring, or whojust simply had to steal it, and you've got your man."

  "But suppose that applies to two persons there, or even three," saidGunther, who perceived that the detective did not intend to commithimself.

  "Possibly."

  "Or it may be the hysterical act of a woman who will never attempt tosell the ring."

  "Possible--more than possible."

  "And then it will never be found."

  "That's right."

  "But you don't think that's the case," said Gunther. "And you have anopinion."

  McKenna gave him a quick look of appreciation.

  "That's right; but it's not who took it, but why it was taken. Inforty-eight hours I'll know a little bit more about the habits of theladies and gentlemen we're dealing with, and then I'll be morecommunicative." He paused, with a little pardonable pleasure in themystification he was preparing, and added: "In forty-eight hours I'llgive you a little story about each of the persons who were at that partywhich'll beat anything in the story-telling line you ever came upagainst. Now, Mr. Beecher, before we get down to questions, here's onething I want you to do. Find out from Mrs. Kildair what's her detectiveagency. Say you've a friend who's trying to track a valet for stealingand want a good address--see?"

  "You are not going to shadow the detectives?" said Gunther curiously.

  "You bet I am, till I know more about them," said McKenna. "Young man,I can tell you more than twenty cases I've been on where the detectivewho was called in to make a search went cahoots with the thief."

  "Detectives!" said Beecher, amazed.

  "You bet. I don't trust my own, when I've got anything that's got to bedone right. I don't trust any one man; I put two on it. My dearfellow, the crooks that pick your pocket or break into your house areonly amateurs. The real criminal, the criminal of brains, joins apolice force, becomes a detective, a clerk, goes slowly, gets to be acashier or president of a bank. You think I'm joking. Not at all. Lookhere; just stop and think it over, and you won't laugh. For every bankpresident who takes the funds of his bank, speculates, and _loses_, howmany do you think win out and never get caught?"

  "That's so," said Gunther thoughtfully.

  "It's too big a subject," said McKenna, smiling. "I shake hands everyday with gentlemen who ought to be breaking rocks. Now, let's get backto business. Mr. Beecher, what did you notice of any kind last nightthat would make you suspect any one? I don't mean opinions, but eyes."

  Beecher hesitated an interval that did not escape the notice of thedetective.

  "Nothing," he said at last, unwilling to mention the name of NanCharters. He added, to cover the hesitation: "I suspected Garraboy, butI admit there's no proof--personal dislike."

  "Why do you dislike him?"

  Beecher shrugged his shoulder and his glance went to one side.

  "Mr. Gunther, will you get me my office?" said McKenna, suddenly lookingat his watch. "You know the number."

  Gunther disappeared in the hall in search of the telephone.

  "Now, Mr. Beecher," said McKenna, smiling, "I'm like a doctor, you know.There's no use calling me in unless you give me all the facts. What'sthe name of the lady who excited your suspicion, whom Mr. Garraboy wasso attentive to, and on account of whom, I rather guess, you gotinterested in this case?"

  The startled look Beecher gave him amply gratified McKenna, whocontinued:

  "What's Miss Charters' position in this business?"

  Beecher admitted the correctness of the surmise with a laugh, and,Gunther being absent, quickly recounted the different moments of NanCharters' agitation and the conversation in the cab.

  At this moment Gunther returned. "I say, McKenna," he said, "some one'strying to get you on the wire."

  McKenna passed to the telephone, and almost immediately returned.

  "Look here, gentlemen," he said, "if you want to try your hand atdeduction, here's something to work on. The Clearing-house has justrefused to clear for the Atlantic Trust, Majendie's resignation has beenaccepted, and tomorrow there'll be a run on every bank in the city--andGod help those who're caught in the stock market!"