The Gloved Hand
Page 27
CHAPTER XXVII
THE END OF THE CASE
To Sylvester, head of the Identification Bureau, it seemed that theworld was tottering to its fall; but the rest of us, who had notreally at the bottom of our hearts, perhaps, believed in theinfallibility of the finger-print system, took it more calmly. Andpresently we went upstairs to take a look at the contents of Silva'ssecret cupboard. When he had first come to the house, Miss Vaughanexplained, he had been given carte-blanche in this suite of rooms. Hehad them remodelled, installed the circular divan and crystal sphere,selected the hangings, and had at the same time, no doubt, caused thesecret cupboard to be built.
Its contents were most interesting. There was a box of aerial bombs,which Godfrey turned over to Simmonds with the injunction to go andamuse himself. For Sylvester's contemplation and further confusionwere the gloves with which Silva had managed his parlour mystificationscheme, six pairs of them; and there was also the very simpleapparatus with which the finger-print reproductions had been made--anapparatus, as Godfrey had suggested, similar in every way to thatused for making rubber stamps. There, too, were the plates of zincupon which the impressions of the prints had been etched with acid.And, finally, there were various odds and ends of a juggler's outfit,as well as various bottles of perfumes, essences, and liquids whoseproperties we could not guess.
Godfrey looked at the gloves carefully, as though in search ofsomething, and at last selected one of them with a little exclamationof satisfaction.
"I thought so!" he said, and held it up. "Look at this glove,Sylvester. You see it has never been used--there is no ink on it. Doyou know what it is? It's the print of Swain's left hand."
Sylvester took it and looked at it.
"It's a left hand all right," he said. "But what makes you think it isSwain's?"
"Because Silva expected to use both hands, till he learned that Swainhad injured one of his. But for that, the blood needed to make theprints would have come from the victim, and Silva would have worn thisglove, too; but Swain's injury gave Silva a happy inspiration!Wonderful man!" he added, half to himself.
Goldberger and Simmonds went on into the inner room to arrange for thedisposition of the body of Mahbub; but Godfrey and Miss Vaughan and Iturned back together, for we did not wish to see the Thug. At herboudoir door Godfrey paused.
"The case is clear," he said, "from first to last, provided you cansupply us with a final detail, Miss Vaughan."
"What is that?" she asked.
"Did you write that note to Swain in your own room?"
"Yes."
"And will you show me the table at which you wrote it?"
"Certainly," and she opened the door. "Come in. I wrote it at thatlittle desk by the window."
Godfrey walked to it, picked up a blotting-book which lay upon it, andturned over the leaves.
"Ah!" he said, after a moment. "I was sure of it. Here is the finallink. Have you a small hand-mirror, Miss Vaughan?"
She brought one from her toilet-table and handed it to him in evidentastonishment.
"What do you see in the mirror?" he asked, and held a page of theblotting-book at an angle in front of it.
Miss Vaughan uttered an exclamation of surprise, as she read the wordsreflected there:
MR. FREDERIC SWAIN, 1010 Fifth Avenue, New York City.
If not at this address, please try the Calumet Club.
"'Tall oaks from little acorns grow,'" quoted Godfrey, tossing thebook back upon the desk. "But for the fact that you blotted theenvelope, Miss Vaughan, young Swain would never have been accused ofmurder."
"I do not understand," she murmured.
"Don't you see," he pointed out, "the one question which we have beenunable to answer up to this moment has been this: how did Silva knowyou were going to meet Swain? He had to know it, and know it severalhours before the meeting, in order to have those finger-prints ready.I concluded, at last, that there _must_ be a blotting-book--and thereit is."
Miss Vaughan stared at him.
"You seem to be a very wonderful man!" she said.
Godfrey laughed.
"It is my every-day business to reconstruct mysteries," he said."Shall I reconstruct this one?"
"Please do!" she begged, and motioned us to be seated.
Godfrey's face was glowing with the sort of creative fire which, Iimagine, illumines the poet's brow at the moment of inspiration.
"Where did you first meet Silva?" he asked.
"In Paris."
"What was he doing there?"
"He was practising mysticism. My father went to consult him; he wasmuch impressed by him, and they became very intimate."
"And Silva, of course, at once saw the possibilities of exploiting animmensely rich old man, whose mind was failing. So he comes here ashis instructor in Orientalism; he does some very marvellous things; bycontinued hypnosis, he gets your father completely under his control.He secures a promise of this estate and a great endowment; he causesyour father to make a will in which these bequests are specificallystated. Then he hesitates, for during his residence in this house, anew desire has been added to the old ones. It had not often been hisfortune to be thrown in daily contact with an innocent and beautifulgirl, and he ends by falling in love with you. He knows of your lovefor Swain. He has caused Swain to be forbidden the house; but he findsyou still indifferent. At last, by means of his own entreaties andyour father's, he secures your consent to become his disciple. Heknows that, if once you consent to sit with him, he will, in the end,dominate your will, also.
"But you ask for three days' delay, and this he grants. During everymoment of those three days, he will keep you under surveillance.Almost at once, he guesses at your plan, for you return to the house,you write a letter, and, the moment you leave your room, he enters itand sees the impression on the blotter. He follows you into thegrounds, he sees you throw the letter over the wall, and suspects thatyou are calling Swain to your aid. More than that, Lester," he added,turning to me, "he saw you in the tree, and so kept up his midnightfire-works, on the off-chance that you might be watching!"
"Yes; that explains that, too," I agreed thoughtfully.
"When he realises that you are asking your lover's aid," Godfreycontinued to Miss Vaughan, "a fiendish idea springs into his mind. IfSwain answers the call, if he enters the grounds, he will separate himfrom you once for all by causing him to be found guilty of killingyour father. He hastens back to the house, tears the leaf from thealbum of finger-prints and prepares the rubber gloves. That night, hefollows you when you leave the house; he overhears your talk in thearbour; and he finds that there is another reason than that ofjealousy why he must act at once. If your father is found to beinsane, the will drawn up only three days before will be invalid.Silva will lose everything--not only you, but the fortune alreadywithin his grasp.
"He hurries to the house and tells your father of the rendezvous. Yourfather rushes out and brings you back, after a bitter quarrel withSwain, which Silva has, of course, foreseen. You come up to your room;your father flings himself into his chair again. It is Silva who hasfollowed you--who has purposely made a noise in order that you mightthink it was Swain. And he carries in his hand the blood-soakedhandkerchief which Swain dropped when he fled from the arbour.
"Up to this point," Godfrey went on, more slowly, "everything isclear--every detail fits every other detail perfectly. But, in thenext step of the tragedy, one detail is uncertain--whose hand was itdrew the cord around your father's throat? I am inclined to think itwas Mahbub's. If Silva had done the deed, he would probably havechosen a method less Oriental; but Mahbub, even under hypnoticsuggestion, would kill only in the way to which he was accustomed--witha noose. Pardon me," he added, quickly, as she shrank into her chair,"I have forgotten how repellent this must be to you. I havespoken brutally."
"Please go on," she murmured. "It is right that I should hear it. Ican bear it."
"There is not much more to tell," said Godfrey, gently. "Whoeve
r itwas that drew the cord, it was Silva who moistened the glove from theblood-soaked handkerchief, made the marks upon your father's robe, andthen dropped the handkerchief beside his chair. Then he returnedsoftly to his room, closed the door, put away the glove, cleansed hishands, made sure that Mahbub was in his closet, took his place uponthe divan, and waited. I think we know the rest. And now, Lester," headded, turning to me, "we would better be getting to town. Remember,Swain is still in the Tombs."
"You are right," I said, and rose to take my leave, but Miss Vaughan,her eyes shining, stopped me with a hand upon the sleeve.
"I should like to go with you, Mr. Lester," she said. "May I?"
The colour deepened in her cheeks as she met my gaze, and I understoodwhat was in her heart. So did Godfrey.
"I'll have my car around in ten minutes," he said, and hastened away.
"I have only to put on my hat," said Miss Vaughan; and I found herwaiting for me in the library, when I entered it after arranging withSimmonds and Goldberger to appear with me in the Tombs court and joinme in asking for Swain's release.
Godfrey's car came up the drive a moment later, and we were off.
The hour that followed was a silent one. Godfrey was soon sufficientlyoccupied in guiding the car through the tangle of traffic. MissVaughan leaned back in a corner of the tonneau lost in thought. It wasjust six days since I had seen her first; but those six days had lefttheir mark upon her. Perhaps, in time, happiness would banish thatshadow from her eyes, and that tremulousness from her lips. Everybattle leaves its mark, even on the victor; and the battle she hadfought had been a desperate one. But, as I looked at her, she seemedmore complete, more desirable than she had ever been; I could onlyhope that Swain would measure up to her.
At last, we drew up before the grey stone building, whose barredwindows and high wall marked the prison.
"Here we are," I said, and helped her to alight.
Godfrey greeted the door-keeper as an old friend, and, after awhispered word, we were allowed to pass. A guard showed us into abare waiting-room, and Godfrey hastened away to explain our errand tothe warden.
"Won't you sit down?" I asked, but my companion shook her head, with afrightened little smile, and paced nervously up and down, her handsagainst her heart. How riotously it was beating I could guess--withwhat hope, what fear....
There was a quick step in the corridor, and she stood as if turned tostone.
Then the door was flung open, and, with radiant face, she walkedstraight into the outstretched arms of the man who stood there. Iheard her muffled sob, as the arms closed about her and she hid herface against his shoulder; then a hand was laid upon my sleeve.
"Come along, Lester," said Godfrey softly. "This case is ended!"
THE END