The Incendiary: A Story of Mystery
Page 54
CHAPTER LIV.
THE FOOL OF THE FAMILY.
So McCausland was right, after all. The oaf had just been captured bythe local police of Woodlawn, and inquiry had vindicated the inspector'ssurmise.
Far back in our story there was mention of a half-witted brother of theLacy girls, who jumped from the Harmon building and were killed. Naturehad made one of her capriciously unequal divisions of talent in thisfamily, gifting the daughters with all graces and allurements ofcharacter, but misshaping their elder brother, Peter, both in body andmind. And Fate, instead of rectifying the hard allotment by the mercifulremoval of the oaf, had deprived the household instead of its fairerinmates, leaving the monster to flourish on, sleeping, breathing,performing all animal functions healthily, but reflecting only sorrowinto the heart of the mother who bore him.
The death of his sisters had converted this harmless driveller into amaniac, nursing one deadly thought. At the Lacy common table the case ofRobert Floyd was, of course, followed with keen interest, especiallysince the shyster, Slack, had persuaded certain advisory relatives, andthrough them the mother, that some compensation in money for the loss ofher girls might result from an appeal to the courts. Shagarach's name,as the defender, the possible savior of Floyd, this wrecker of theirhousehold peace, had impressed itself on the addled intelligence of theoaf, and being sufficiently taught to read and endowed with the cunningof his sort, he had begun with the incoherent letters to the lawyer, andended with three assaults which had so nearly cost him his life. Floyd,behind the prison bars, was beyond his reach; but if the criminalrecords of the time had included any attempt to force a way into a jailcell it is probable that the maniac would have essayed an imitation ofthis. For, as McCausland had keenly noted, each of his attacks had beenmade under suggestion from the daily chronicles.
Since the fire he had wandered away from home--though previously adevoted house-haunter--probably making the rude hut in the forest hisabode and indulging his mania amid that forest solitude in long fits ofbrooding. Just why he chose this habitation the mother could not say,unless it was to be near his sister's grave. From time to time he hadreturned, always to beg a little money or some articles of necessity,and when questioned on his doings he had manifested a temper which hewas rarely known to exhibit before.
The mystery of his identity with the peddler was explained by Mrs. Lacywhen Shagarach asked her the whereabouts of her son during June. Itseems there was a street vender named Hotaling, who added to his revenuein summer time by hiring young men to exploit the outlying suburbs withspring produce. Strictly speaking, a license would be required, eventhough their sales were made beyond the city limits. But Hotalingdispensed with this formality, and the teamsters he employed wereunsteady fellows, of the least savory appearance, whom he rewarded witha commission, keeping their accounts correct by the terror by which hepersonally inspired them. Among Hotaling's possessions was a green cart,and the driver selected to occupy its seat had been Peter Lacy, who hadwit enough to harness a horse and make change (indeed, he was veryshrewd at a bargain), and who accepted a pittance as recompense. Thesimpleton's district had been Woodlawn. But his road from the citymarket took him close to Cazenove street.
When, the next morning, the district attorney announced that HarryArnold and Bertha would testify, closing the case for the prosecution,Shagarach knew that his time was at hand.
"Mr. Hodgkins has attested the existence of a will and the accusedhimself at the preliminary hearing admitted knowing that he wasvirtually disinherited. We have, however, thought it well to strengthenthis vital point by calling a witness who will testify to the sameadmission made upon another occasion. Mr. Harry Arnold."
"You are a nephew of the late Prof. Arnold?"
"Yes, sir; his brother's son," answered Harry. He was just the least bitnervous, his glances wandering from Shagarach's face to his mother's andthen resting with a brighter expression on that of Rosalie March, whohad come into the court-room to-day for the first time. The wild rose inher cheeks was blooming warmly through the gossamer she wore to hidethem and her blue eyes were lifted trustfully to her lover's. Once theycaught Emily's and she bowed with a smile. Emily returned the bow, buther heart was too full for smiling. She was sorry Rosalie had come thatmorning, for Shagarach's manner told her that he was condensing histhoughts in the resolve to wring the truth from Harry.
"And a cousin of the accused?"
"Yes, sir."
"Your relations have always been pleasant, I presume?"
"We have never had any permanent falling-out."
"And are so still?"
"Yes, sir, on my part. I hope with all my heart the jury will find himinnocent," answered Harry, with every appearance of candor.
"Have you ever had any conversation with him on the subject of youruncle's will?"
"Only once."
"When was that?"
"Within a week after the fire."
"And where?"
"At the county jail."
"It was while the accused was in custody of the sheriff, I believe?"
"Yes, sir."
"How did you happen to visit the accused at that time?"
"I was his only living kinsman. My visit was one of sympathy."
"And what statement did the accused make regarding his knowledge of thewill?"
"Why, I believe he owned incidentally that he was disinherited, buteverybody knew it then. It was all over the town. So was I, it seems,for that matter," added Harry.
"Everybody's knowledge is nobody's knowledge. We cannot take things forgranted because rumor has spread them broadcast. We want your specifictestimony that the accused acknowledged having learned from his unclethat he was to receive only an insignificant fraction of the fortunewhich all his life he had been expecting."
"That is my recollection of it."
"Was there any further conversation on the subject?"
"No, sir; it came up incidentally."
Shagarach paused a moment before beginning the cross-examination. Harryeyed him and during every second of the pause the witness' colormounted. Something in the lawyer's appearance still confused him. "Thiswas a visit of sympathy?" asked Shagarach.
"Yes, sir."
"Then you have seen the accused frequently since his imprisonment, Ipresume?"
"Well, no, I have not."
"When did you see him last previous to yesterday?"
"Well, not since the first week."
"Not since this visit of sympathy, do you mean?"
"That was the last time."
"Then all your sympathy expended itself in that single visit?"
"No, not exactly."
"Why didn't you renew it?"
"Rob and I didn't part good friends."
"Indeed? And what was the cause of your disagreement?"
"Some thoughtless words of mine."
"Then you were at fault?"
"Wholly. I have been sorry since."
"But you have kept your repentance to yourself until now, have you not?"
"Well----"
"And volunteered to testify against your cousin?"
"No, sir; I was subpoenaed."
"From what quarter do you suppose these rumors of Floyd's disinheritancearose?"
"I don't know."
"Consider that answer carefully."
"I have done so. I don't know. I read it in the papers."
"You knew Floyd was disinherited before your visit to his cell?"
"No, sir."
"You knew you yourself were disinherited before the fire?"
"No, sir."
"You knew a will had been made?"
"Yes, sir."
"From whom?"
"From my mother."
"Your mother and yourself share most items of family interest betweenyou?"
"Naturally we do. We have no secrets from each other."
"Wasn't it your mother who first informed Mr. McCausland that Robert hadbeen disinherited?"
"I don'
t know."
"Yet you read the papers, you said."
"I must have skipped that item."
"How did Mrs. Arnold know this fact?"
"I don't know."
"You are very rich, Mr. Arnold?"
"Yes, we are considered wealthy."
"So rich that I presume you were indifferent whether Prof. Arnold addedto your fortunes or not by a bequest of his property?"
"He may have thought we didn't need anything more."
"How large a stud of horses do you keep?"
"In all? Only six."
"How many servants?"
"Six."
"For a family of two?"
"My mother and myself. But then, we entertain a good deal."
"You have a summer residence at Hillsborough?"
"Yes, sir."
"And a house at Woodlawn?"
"Yes, sir."
"The supplies for your table are not generally purchased from a commonstreet vender, I presume?"
"I don't know. I don't attend to the commissariat."
"Shouldn't you suppose they would come from market?"
"Game and such things, yes."
"And greens?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"When did you first hear of the burning of Prof. Arnold's house?"
"That's hard to say at this distance of time."
"I wish you would try to recollect."
"Why, I think the morning afterward--Sunday morning. Yes, it was in theSunday papers. I remember now."
"You remember distinctly?"
"Yes, sir."
"What paper?"
"The Beacon. We take no other."
The Beacon was the paper upon which Robert was employed, thus forming acurious bond of communication between the two Arnold households.
"You were not in town, then, that afternoon?"
"No, sir."
"Positive of that?"
"Why, yes; I was ill--or, rather, just convalescing from a fever. Dr.Whipple called, I believe, to see me that very Saturday."
"In the forenoon or afternoon?"
"Afternoon."
"About what hour?"
"About 3:45."
"And this fire started at 3:30?"
"I heard a witness say so in the testimony yesterday."
"Of your own knowledge you couldn't say when it started?"
"No, sir."
Harry was red as fire during all these rapid questions, some apparentlyaimless, some sharply pointed.
"A man could not start that fire in Cazenove street at 3:30 and reachyour house in Woodlawn at 3:45, could he?"
"Not very well."
"He might, however, start the fire at 3:28 and reach your house at3:48?"
"I don't know," said Harry. "Twenty minutes isn't long."
"Isn't there a train which leaves the Southern depot at 3:29?"
"I never use the Southern depot."
"Never?"
"Well, not enough to know the trains."
"I have not said that you did, Mr. Arnold. It happens, however, thatthere was a train--an express train--which left the Southern depot at3:29 on June 28, arriving in Woodlawn at 3:45. A person starting fromProf. Arnold's house at 3:28 could have caught that train, could henot?"
"In one minute? Yes, by hurrying."
"And, leaving the train at Woodlawn at 3:45, he could have arrived inyour house at 3:48, could he not?"
"Yes, sir, by walking briskly."
"Across the fields?"
"Across the fields."
"Wasn't it 3:48 when Dr. Whipple visited you on that Saturday of thefire?"
"Why, of course I could not swear within a minute or two."
"But a minute or two is momentous at times--when a train is to be taken,for example."
"Oh, yes."
"What were you doing all Saturday afternoon before the doctor arrived?"
"Why"--Harry hesitated--"I was ill in my chamber."
"Reading?"
"Perhaps. Killing time lazily."
"You have frequently to do that, I presume?"
"Sir?"
"You have no orderly programme arranged for every day?"
"Well, it varies."
"But never includes any useful occupation, I believe?"
"Well, I can afford to enjoy life."
"You are rich, you said. How fortunate to be rich! The great problem oflife then is solved for you by the drawing of a quarterly check?"
"Well, not exactly."
"If you require money, however, you simply ask for it and it comes forthlike the genii of the lamp?"
"I can usually meet what expenses I incur."
"Do you remember a man named Reddy?"
"Reddy?" repeated Harry, coloring a shade more and glancing over atRosalie.
"Reddy," repeated Shagarach, insistently.
"What is his business?"
"He is dead," said the lawyer, and the witness knew that evasion wasfutile.
"Oh, yes, I knew that Reddy--slightly."
"Do you remember forfeiting several thousand dollars to him one eveningin a certain room?"
"Yes."
Harry was driven to the wall. He set his teeth, and now, finally at bay,his spirit seemed to return.
"Where did that money come from?"
"From my mother."
"And from whom did she get it?"
Harry hesitated.
"From one Simon Rabofsky, a money-lender, was it not?"
"Yes."
"She had sold her family jewels, had she not?"
"Yes."
"She kept you in funds?"
"Yes, but she knew nothing of my habits."
"Then you lied to her to obtain money?"
"Yes."
"And you lied to the court awhile ago when you said that you were rich?"
"No, sir; it was only a temporary embarrassment."
"Have the jewels been redeemed?"
"I believe not."
"Do rich people generally pawn their family heirlooms and permit them tobe sold?"
"Well, no."
"Then you were so circumstanced that your disinheritance under youruncle's will might seriously incommode you?"
"Well, his money might afford us relief."