The Professor's Mystery

by Wells Hastings and Brian Hooker

  CHAPTER XVI

  MEAGER REVELATIONS

  I glanced instinctively across at Mr. Tabor, to see if he had overheard;but he gave no sign of having done so. He stood with one broad handslowly tightening and relaxing over the back of his chair, his eyesfollowing unwaveringly the slight figure as it paused beyond thecurtains and Lady let them fall into place, then he sat wearily downagain, with a smile that did not smooth the white bristle of his brows.

  "That shows how tired Mrs. Tabor is," he said casually. "I never knewher to confuse the names in that way before."

  My first shock changed unreasonably into the feeling of a suspectedconspirator. I was sure that he had not heard; his reference was only tohis wife's calling Lady "Miriam," not to her whispered words; but whatcould those words mean? Where was Miriam? And if this house were insome way divided against itself, on what side was I? Then I becamesuddenly conscious of my silence.

  "Surely there is nothing at all strange in that," I answered. "For amother to call her children by one another's names is the commonestthing in the world; especially when--" I stopped, wondering whether Iwere quite sure that Miriam was dead.

  "Yes, natural enough, of course." He spoke absently; then went on as ifanswering my thought; "And then, Mrs. Tabor was greatly shaken by ourfirst daughter's death: so much so that she has never quite recoveredherself physically. Sometimes, even now, she hardly realizes, I think,that Miriam is not here." He looked down at his hand, then raised hiseyes steadily to mine.

  "That was several years ago?" I said, to say something.

  "Two years. We have to keep Walter Reid out of her sight, although sheis very fond of him, because his actual words and ways make herremember." Perhaps it was the effort to convince himself which made himseem needlessly eager to explain.

  "She must be growing stronger though, all the while," I suggested. "Andfrom now on, we shall have peace from Carucci and all the otherdisturbances he brings in his train."

  He did not answer, and the discomfort of silence settled heavily down. Ibegan to hear the clock ticking, and to be half conscious of my ownbreathing. Some one crossed the room above us and went quietly down theupper hall toward the rear of the house. Had that been Miriam's room inwhich I found the intruder; and if so, why was it kept uncannily thesame when all the family were striving to guard the mother fromremembrance? Presently Mr. Tabor roused himself with the decision of aman putting a thought away.

  "I meant to ask you about that," he said. "Somehow or other, this blackhand business must stop. I can't have reporters and detectives andblackmailing Italians lurking about to cause gossip and disturb Mrs.Tabor, and I won't have it. We've done no more than merely to hold offthe spies, and that necessity in itself was bad enough. But when itcomes to having Carucci break into the house and alarm the family--" Helooked sharply at me. "Have you heard anything further from yourfriend?"

  "Nothing more than you know; but I ran across Carucci this afternoon,and I think that incident is closed." I went over the afternoon'sevents, adding: "So there's no murder mystery now, no newspaper story,and unless Sheila is very much mistaken in herself, we've heard the lastof Carucci. That clears the atmosphere pretty thoroughly, doesn't it?"

  He did not seem to be much relieved. "Yes if Sheila could or wouldreally send him away. I don't doubt her loyalty to us, but she's toofond of her brute of a husband." Then abruptly, after some pondering,"You answered the telephone for Mrs. Tabor, as I understand. Did youhear the name, or recognize the voice?"

  "No, sir," said I uncomfortably; for it sounded very much as if he werequestioning his wife's word.

  "It couldn't have been either of your Italian detectives, for instance?"

  "I'm quite sure that it wasn't--that is, as sure as one can be of avoice over the 'phone. It was entirely different, a cooing, syrupy voicethat seemed to be a woman's."

  "Well," he said finally, "Carucci is the storm-center, in any case." Herose, and pressed the button by the door. "Ask Mrs. Carucci to step downto my study for a moment," he said to the maid. Then he turned to me."Come in here, Crosby, and we'll settle this thing."

  Sheila appeared, bubbling with triumph, and volubly eager to recount herexperiences. Antonio would never dare to show the face of him to any ofus again. Indeed, he had promised to take the first ship he could findand be off to sea, out of mischief. His black hand bother was allnonsense anyway; he was nothing to be afraid of, more than a black-facedbogey to frighten children. "An' he'll keep his promise, sir, to me,"she wound up, "for he knows well what I'll be givin' him if he don't.He's only waitin' till his week's out, so he can draw his pay; then offhe goes to New York, an' away on the first steamer that'll take him.'An' good riddance to ye, too,' says I, 'an' if ever ye bring trouble onmy people again, I'll make ye wish ye'd died a bachelor,' I says tohim."

  "He's going before that," said Mr. Tabor decidedly. "This is Tuesday;the _Catalonia_ sails on Thursday, and I'll get him a berth on her.What's more, I'll see that he takes it. You know where to find him,Sheila, I suppose?"

  "Sure I do, sir. He'll be right where I saw him, workin' on the trolley.But it's hard on him, sir, losin' his week's pay, and bein' shipped offlike a thief. Leave him find his own ship like a man."

  "He's not being shipped off. I'm finding a good berth for him, which ismore than he deserves, and you both ought to be grateful. Now listen, Iwant you to go to New York with him to-morrow. Take him to your ownplace, and don't lose sight of him until he is safe aboard and away. Ifhe leaves you, notify me at once. I intend to be certain that he hasleft the country; do you understand?"

  "An' who's to be takin' care av me poor lamb up-stairs all the while?"Sheila demanded, her brogue broadening, and her hands bracedaggressively against her hips.

  Mr. Tabor glanced quickly at me. "We can do that very well, as we havedone. Of course your husband can be sent to prison for blackmail, if Ican't otherwise be rid of him, but for your sake I should rather havehim simply go away. If you are not willing to help, Sheila, you needonly say so."

  For a moment I thought she was going to refuse. But after a vain appealor two, she gave way rather sullenly, and agreed to leave early in themorning.

  "That's the pity of those people," Mr. Tabor said to me, as he closedthe door after her. "Let the man do or be what he will, the woman hehas possessed will hold of him to the end of her days; he can't quitelie away her faith or kick away her tenderness. I suppose it's beautifulin its way, but it gives a foothold to a lot of misery--well, now,Crosby, the rest is your part. I believe Sheila will keep her word; butit's against her husband, after all, and I want to make sure. Will yougo to New York, too, and keep an eye on them until Carucci has gone?It's an unpleasant service to ask, but I can't do it for myself.And--since your vacation trip would naturally start from New York, itwon't be far out of your way." I looked full at him to be sure that Iunderstood, but I knew already that he had weighed his words.

  "I see," I said slowly. "Is that all, or do you really want me to watchthe Caruccis?"

  "Certainly I do, if you will. I'm going to be very frank with you,Crosby, because you've deserved it. I did feel at one time that yourformer trip was managed with a little too much gallantry--that you hadwith the best intentions involved us in a melodrama, been the means ofbringing these people down on us. But that wasn't just. Nobody couldhave done better in your place; and if any one was to blame, it wasReid, for allowing you to go at that time of night. Of course, I wasaway from home when you started. Well, you've helped us and been loyalto us, though we had no claim upon you. It all comes down to this: Mrs.Tabor's health is a cause of great concern to me, and has been for along time. I feel that she must be guarded from every possible shock. AsI told you, there is a condition here which we are keeping to ourselves,which is dangerous to her, and which--you must take my word for it--maybe aggravated by your continual presence. I'm eliminating, so far as Ican, every disturbing element, and you are such an element, through nofault of yours. I'm not banishing you, I only ask that your visits to
usbe no more than occasional. Once in a while, a little later, we shall bevery glad to see you, I hope; but not just now. Is that clear?"

  "All but the reason for it," I said, "and I won't ask that."

  "I won't make any protestations or apologies," he added verydeliberately. "I think you trust us. And I prove that I trust you morethan you know, in telling you as much as I have."

  I suppose that a more sensible man in my place would have done verydifferently. On his own confession, Mr. Tabor was telling me only a partof the truth; accident and warning had combined to make me suspicious ofhim; and I knew by my own experience how plausibly he could lie. Butwhether it was his age, or his deference, or the fact that he was Lady'sfather, all the Don Quixote in me came suddenly to the surface.

  "I'll do as you say, sir," I said. "Let me know when I can do anythingmore," and I held out my hand.

  His own was moist and hot; and I noticed under the stronger light of thehall, that the veins in his temples were swollen and throbbing and thathe moved listlessly, as though he had been under a great strain. BeforeI could think about it, Lady parted the curtains of the living-room.

  "What is it?" she asked quickly. "Has anything happened?"

  "Only that I am going to New York to see Carucci sail away," I answered,"and I don't know just when I shall be back." It was plain that Mr.Tabor had not meant me to say so much; but that was my own affair.

  She followed me outside the front door. "That means that you are goingaway-- I knew it must come to that." She was twisting nervously at herchain.

  "One word from you, and I won't go."

  She shook her head. "No, I want you to--good-by."

  "Promise me one thing," I said. "That you'll send me word if you wantme."

  "I promise," she answered quietly, "but I shall never have to keep thatpromise."

  As I went out of the gate, Doctor Reid was coming in, and stopped tospeak to me. His companion stood meanwhile some distance away; but itwas not too dark for me to recognize the big man with the shrillprecision of speech whom I had seen him bring secretly to the housebefore.

  I set out the next morning in a humor of suspicious disillusion, all myquixotism turned sour under the dry sun. Put it how I would, I wasplaying the part of a spy: if Carucci himself was no better, the honestIrish eyes of his wife made me vaguely ashamed of my task. Havingnevertheless undertaken it, I must put it through as well as might be.To follow the pair about would be futile, since I must presently be seenand recognized; but I conceived that merely by making sure of them atintervals during the next forty-eight hours I should be fulfilling mymission. I saw them safely on the train, and established myself inanother car; and when we reached the Grand Central, I made straight forthe scene of my midnight adventure. It was no less ugly by day than bynight, and if possible even more malodorous. Push-carts vendedunimaginable sweetmeats along the curb to a floating population ofbesmeared and screaming children; bleared slatterns, flabbilyoverflowing their bulging garments, jabbered in window and doorway; andthe squat and dingy little saloon on the corner leered beerily at all. Iwaited half an hour before the Caruccis appeared. Then I made for atelephone in a state of disgusted relief, and called up Maclean.

  "So you're in town now for a while," he said, in answer to my expurgatedaccount of myself. "Well, I tell you how it is, Laurie, I'm pretty busyto-day. Let's have your number, an' I'll call you up later when I'mloose. You'll hang out at the Club, won't you?"

  "I thought you wanted to see me about something."

  "Oh, _that_. That wasn't anythin'-- Why, yes, I'll lunch with you ifyou're in such a hurry, but I'll have to beat it right afterwards,'cause I've got an assignment this afternoon."

  At the Club, he plunged immediately into the irrelevant subject.

  "Say, I've got to slide out after grub, an' go on a spook-hunt. There'sthis gang of Psychics or Spiritualists or whatever they are, up the linehere, you see? And I'm coverin' one of their seances. Hamlet's oldgrandfather comes in an' rough-houses the furniture, an' Little Eva saysa lot more than her prayers, an' you sit in a circle holdin' hands toget a line on the higher life. Don't you want to come along? You'll getsome thrillin' moments."

  "Is it a fake, then?" I asked.

  "Oh, they're all fakes, I guess. All I ever ran across, anyway. But thisdeath-fancier's the real squeeze--only raises the graveyard in privatean' don't take any money, an' a whole lot of big doctors an' psychologyprofs are nutty about her, you see? It's the big show, the original NewYork company. You better come."

  "All right," I said, "bring on your mysteries. I always thought therewas something in that business, really; and here's a good chance. Butlook here, Mac, I want you to tell me what you heard from Carucci."

  "Tell you the truth," said Maclean, "I'm a little bit afraid there maybe something in spookery, myself. That's why I'd just as soon have youalong."

  "It won't do, old fellow," said I; "let's have the dago story."

  Maclean fidgeted and glowered at the table. "It's like this, Laurie, yousee? Those folks are friends of yours, an' this yarn of the guinea's isjust a dirty bit of scandal, that's all over an' done with. An' I toldyou I didn't believe it anyhow. I hadn't ought to have said anythin' toyou in the first place; and I'd rather not say anythin' about it nowunless you want. 'Tain't anythin'."

  "Mac, I've gone so far with the Tabors that I need to know all I can. Ifit's a lie, why all right. If it's true, why you can trust me and so canthey. I wasn't born last week."

  "Well," Mac grunted after a pause, "I'd better tell you, I guess, thanlet you go it blind--here you are. You know that Doctor Reid that's inwith the Tabors?" He lowered his voice, leaning across the table."Accordin' to the dago, he got mixed up with some woman abroad, an'married her. Then he leaves her, an' comes back, an' maybe he thinksshe's dead. So he marries the Tabor girl, you see? Then the family getwise about the other woman, an' there's an awful row, an' finally theyfix it up among them to move away, an' let on that Reid an' the daughterain't married at all, not until this other woman dies, you see? An'that's what they're all keepin' so quiet about. Mind you, I don'tbelieve it, myself."

  "Why, it's impossible," I said. "It doesn't fit together. Miriam Tabordied a year after Reid married her, and why should they--"

  "Sure, that's just it. Sure. I told you it was all over, an' anyhow itcouldn't be so." He looked at his watch, and I noticed that the monogramon the back was cut in a quaint, antique fashion. "Come ahead--we'vejust got time."

  I found his eyes and held them. "One minute, Mac. You're keeping backthe point, so that I won't understand the story. It's no use."

  "No, I ain't--honest--it's all over--well, damn it, Carucci says theTabor girl didn't die. He says that's only the fake they put up, an'she's alive an' around the same as ever."

  For a moment the words did not mean anything. I was groping madly amonga mass of reminiscences, the noises in the house, the room with thepresence in it, into which Carucci had broken, the tangledhalf-confidences of the family. Then the picture of Lady twistingnervously at the slender chain came uppermost in imagination, andthrough the eddying fog of my mind the whole nightmare leaped forth in aflash of horrible clearness, a score of interwoven circumstancesoutlining it as with threads of fire: the wedding-ring worn hidden ather breast, her raising of unaccountable barriers, her hopelessness, thefamily's fear of publicity and growing anxiety over my intimate presenceamong them, the cloud upon Mrs. Tabor, her aversion to Reid and theelaborate explanation of her slip in calling her daughter Miriam--Ileaned my forehead on my hands.

  Maclean had me by the shoulder: "Brace up, man," he muttered; "here,drink your drink. You'll have everybody looking at you."