The Third Mystery

by James Holding

  The envelope was still there. He didn’t hesitate now. With a letter opener he slit the flap, pulled out the contents and muttered a curse.

  The fairly thick envelope was filled with nothing but some sheets torn from a catalogue. A poultry catalogue, if the pictures meant anything.

  Reed bit his lip, sat down and scrutinized the back of the envelope. He saw now that the seal had been very carefully opened. Perhaps by steaming it. The contents had been removed and replaced by the catalogue sheets. Then the flap had been neatly sealed and the whole thing put back into the steel box.

  Reed picked up his hat and slid into a topcoat as he rushed through the outer office. He hailed a taxi and had himself driven to Martha Nast’s residence.

  A solemn-faced butler opened the door and bowed respectfully.

  “I am very sorry, Mr. Reed, but things are not yet ready for the wake. It will not begin until tomorrow some time. Though Mr. Tommy, Mr. Willis, and Miss Nancy might be willing to see you, if it is important.”

  “What are you talking about, Barton?” But even as be asked this, Reed knew what the answer would be. The butler allowed a faint spasm of surprise to cross his face.

  “But, sir, didn’t you know? Mrs. Nast is dead. She died in her sleep sometime last night. The maid found her dead this morning.”

  Reed said, “Is the doctor here, Barton? Has the body been moved?”

  “No, sir, and the doctor is in the upstairs study filling out the death certificate, sir.”

  Reed brushed past the butler, saw Tommy in the big living room and waved a greeting. Tommy didn’t move to answer the wave. Reed reached the study, stepped in, and closed the door. An elderly man was seated at the desk.

  Reed said, “Hello, Doc, Remember me? I’m the family lawyer.”

  “Of course, Mr. Reed. Glad to see you again. Well, it’s over for her. I knew the end was approaching about a year ago. In fact, she hung on much longer than I thought she could. It was a combination of heart trouble and general debility. Usual in extreme age. Nothing I or anyone else could have done.”

  Reed said, “Doc, I’m going to ask you a question that may make you jump. Are you absolutely positive that Mrs. Nast wasn’t murdered?”

  “Murdered! Good heavens, no! Of course a post-mortem will be necessary to back up that statement, but from the examination I made, she died a perfectly natural death.”

  “Do an autopsy,” Reed urged. “Strange things have happened. Were you able to determine the time of death?”

  “Roughly. She went to bed at about eight o’clock last night, complaining of characteristic pains in the heart region. I judge that she probably lived anywhere from fifteen minutes to half an hour after she fell asleep.”

  “Then she died about eight-thirty,” Reed mused. “Odd she wasn’t discovered until this morning.”

  “Nothing odd about it at all. She gave orders to her servants and her family that she was not to be disturbed after she retired for anything short of a fire in the house. She was a strict old lady. No one would have dared to cross her.”

  Reed walked slowly out of the room, leaving a doctor who frowned heavily. He went downstairs and sat beside Tommy.

  “Rather a mess, isn’t it?” Reed said softly.

  Tommy nodded. “Peter, what happened to my aunt was expected. A blow, of course, but one we knew was coming. But about Mary Burnett. Listen, she needs help. Will you help her? I’m wealthy now. Aunt Martha left me half of her estate. I’ll pay you anything. Mary didn’t kill him. She wouldn’t harm a fly, I tell you.”

  Reed arose, closed the door, and sat down again. “Take it easy, Tommy. I know just how you feel. Yes, I’ll help her. I’ll do everything I can. But you’ve got to be truthful about it. Tommy, did your aunt know you were in love with Mary Burnett, a married woman? The wife of a man she knew and perhaps liked?”

  “No,” Tommy said miserably. “No, she didn’t. We kept it a secret, but when all those detectives questioned her, she broke down. She wanted me and they wouldn’t let me go to her, damn them.”

  “Did Burnett know his wife wanted a divorce so she could marry you?”

  “No, I don’t think so. We tried to keep it quiet, even from him. He knew there was someone, of course, and he was an obstinate old fool. And the worst part of it was that telephone call.”

  “Go on,” Reed said, thinking of the mysterious phone call he also got.

  “Last night someone phoned Mary and told her it was I calling. Mary believed I wanted to meet her close by the house. That’s why she pretended to go downtown, but came back, and people saw her lurking about. And—and the gun—was her husband’s. Her prints were on it. But, damn it, man, she handled that gun often. Her husband kept it under his pillow as he slept. She had to handle it to make up the beds every day.”

  Peter gave Tommy a cigarette and had one himself. “Tommy,” he said, “I don’t believe the police have much on Mary. They are holding her as routine—and someone to throw at the newspapers—while they keep working and trying to find the real killer. Of course, they probably believe Mary was involved somehow, so no harm is being done by locking her up. Where were you at the time he was killed?”

  “Walking toward the hotel dining room where you, Willis, and Walter Manning later met me to have dinner. I haven’t an alibi if that’s what you mean. They figure Burnett was shot about nine o’clock. We didn’t meet until shortly after that.”

  “When you phoned to ask me to attend that dinner, why didn’t you tell me who you were, Tommy?”

  “Me? Phone you? But I didn’t, Pete. I swear I didn’t. I was surprised to see you come in.”

  “Before I arrived, was my name mentioned by Willis or Manning?”

  “No. We talked about the new baseball season.”

  “Is Willis here, by any chance?”

  “Yes. Upstairs with Nan. Aunt Martha’s death knocked her out pretty well. She asked me to call him over. I did.”

  Reed said, “I’ll see Mary later on. As for yourself, if the police question you, watch out. Don’t make any statements. Not one, understand? Insist that I must be with you. They have to agree to that.”

  “I’ll just do as you say, Pete. Only I’m more worried about Mary than about myself. She’s locked up. Charged with murder.”

  Reed just nodded in as reassuring a manner as he could summon. He went upstairs. Willis was sitting beside the bed on which Nan lay, sound asleep. He tiptoed out to join Reed.

  “The doctor gave her a hypo. Pete, this is awful. That stuff about Tommy, then his aunt dying last night. I don’t wonder Nan cracked up.”

  “Maybe we all will before it’s over. Willis, on your honor, you did not telephone me last night?”

  “Why, no. No, I told you I didn’t at dinner.”

  “Burnett was murdered last night shortly before nine o’clock. Where were you up until nine, Willis?”

  “I was going to the hotel, alone. I was supposed to meet Tommy here at the house and go with him, but he didn’t show up. Later, he said he forgot he made the date with me.”

  “All right,” Reed said crisply, “If the police ask you that question, tell them the truth except the part about Tommy promising to meet you. That must be perfectly clear in your mind. Is it?”

  “The way you tell it, how could it be anything else? Pete, do you think Tommy…”

  “I don’t dare think. Neither do you. I suppose, as soon as all this is over with, you will marry Nan. That means you’ll come into a great deal of money. Nan is now one of the wealthiest girls in the country, Willis. I wish both of you all the luck in the world. Stay by her side. She’ll need you when she awakens.”

  “Don’t worry,” Willis said stoutly. “I’ll be here. Really, Pete, her money doesn’t mean anything. I told her a dozen times that no matter how wealthy she is, all I want to do is start my poultry farm and—”

  Reed said, “Did you say poultry farm?”

  Willis blinked. “Why, yes. Is that such a surprising effort to
go into, Pete?”

  Reed plunged a hand into his inner pocket and brought out the sheaf of pages from a poultry catalogue.

  “Did you ever see these before, Willis?”

  He looked carefully, thumbing through the pages. “That’s part of Carlin Company’s latest catalogue. I have one myself. It only arrived yesterday, but I looked through it pretty thoroughly.”

  “Is your copy at home now? Right now?”

  “Pete, what in the world is this all about? No, it isn’t. I get so many of those things that I simply threw it away.”

  Reed wheeled and stalked toward the steps. He didn’t want to answer Willis’ questions about the catalogue pages, but it began to look dark for both Willis and Tommy. The former, because of the catalogue. The latter because he’d promised to meet Willis and failed to do so, just about the time that James Burnett was murdered.

  * * * *

  Pete Reed determined then to see Walter Manning, who had also been at the dinner party. He and Burnett had been in practically the same lines of business. Reed thought he might know something to throw light on the murder of Burnett.

  Manning couldn’t. He said, “I refuse to believe that Mary killed him. I’ve known Mary too long. Burnett was an idiot. Twice as old as Mary and he tried to dominate her. He did, for a long time, until Tommy came along. Burnett was on a spot then. He couldn’t afford to risk losing Tommy’s friendship because of his aunt. She helped Burnett, too, you know.”

  “I didn’t know,” Reed commented slowly. “Tell me more.”

  “Burnett used to work for me as my as head chemist. But he became ambitious and wanted a cut in the profits. I put the whole thing up to Mrs. Nast. She thought he ought to go out on his own and find out what sort of a headache manufacturing can be these days.”

  “I see,” Reed said thoughtfully. “Walter, I can be more frank with you than with Willis or Tommy. Last night, someone phoned me and invited me to your little dinner party. The man who did that wanted me there for a specific reason. I can’t figure it out yet. Perhaps he wanted me to back up an alibi, although that’s silly because Burnett had been killed before I arrived at the dining room. Simply for the record, where were you just before nine?”

  Manning grinned. “I arrived at the hotel early and made all the arrangements. I got there about eight-thirty, I think. Prior to that, I was at my plant. In the office. I’m very busy these days. You see, with the end of the war, many chemicals and drugs are being released. That means we’ll be running to capacity soon.”

  “You left your office just when?”

  Manning said, “Well, of course, I can’t be certain, but I’d say it was about 8:15. It only takes fifteen minutes to reach the hotel from my plant and I went directly there.”

  “Are you interested in Rhode Island Reds, Manning?”

  “Huh?” Manning gaped. “What the devil—say, the only Reds I know about are those boys from Cincinnati. What is this?”

  “A bit of foolishness on my part,” Reed chuckled. “Thanks for not getting sore. I’ll see you later.”

  Reed went directly to his office and summoned two of his junior clerks. To one he gave instructions that he was to proceed at once to the manufacturer who had mailed that poultry catalogue. Reed compiled a list of three names and addresses.

  “Find out for me if any catalogues were mailed to these people or to any of the three addresses written here. Telephone your results. It may take some time for the mail order division to go over their listings, but get them to do it as fast as possible.”

  To the other young man, Reed gave some specific orders, cautioned him to follow them exactly, then Reed leaned back in his chair to do some more thinking.

  He arose, finally, and went to the window. He recalled how the window shade had stuck the night before. It worked smoothly now and he frowned. He peered out of the window, across the court to another office building. Something clicked in his mind.

  Reed left the office hurriedly and went to the building which he’d studied so carefully across the court. He got the superintendent. By the proper plying of a five dollar bill he secured prompt results.

  There were, according to the superintendent, several vacant offices from which Reed’s suite of rooms might easily be observed. Reed went to these offices and let himself in with a key the super provided. They hadn’t been occupied in some time and were rather dusty.

  In all but one of them he found the windows tightly closed. This room, with the partly opened window, intrigued him. He studied the window sill minutely. This thin film of dust seemed to have been disturbed.

  Looking across at his own quarters, he saw his secretary enter his private office. He could see her quite plainly. If he’d been in possession of a pair of field glasses, he could have observed every move she made.

  Reed returned to his own office and telephoned Tommy Nast.

  “I’m going to see Mary now. Soon as I return, I’ll call back. Meantime, I want you to do something for me. Look up the reference of every servant in the house and list the places where each worked before going into service with your aunt. Don’t ask questions and don’t let anyone know what you’re doing.”

  * * * *

  Working as fast as he could Reed visited Mary Burnett next. She had little to offer. Reed admired her intensely for the courage which she displayed.

  “I didn’t kill my husband, of course, but it seems as if someone tried to arrange things so it looks as if I did. It’s true, I am in love with Tommy Nast and I shall marry him—if—if…”

  “You’ll get out of here.” Reed looked around the drab room which they were permitted to use. “They don’t keep innocent people locked up and you’re innocent. I’m going to prove it by bringing in the man who really did murder your husband.”

  “Anything I can do to help,” she gestured helplessly. “Of course, being locked up I’m not of much use.”

  “Your husband and Walter Manning were in the same lines of business?”

  “Yes, they used to be partners, but my husband went out on his own. He and Manning couldn’t get along. He was prosperous enough. Once I thought l was in love with him, but he changed. He became bitter and vindictive. Not over anything I’d done, but it was almost as if he was taking out on me his anger over someone else.”

  “I see. He and Manning were still friends?”

  “They saw one another quite often. Mrs. Nast financed both of them. Together, when they were partners. And when my husband got out, she helped him individually.”

  “Good,” Reed said. “You’ve been a greater help than you realize. It won’t be long before I get you out of here, I hope. Tommy sends his love.”

  “I need nothing more than that,” she said bravely. “I’ll be praying for you, Mr. Reed.”

  For the remainder of the day, Reed tried to concentrate upon routine business, but it was almost impossible. He phoned Tommy Nast and reassured him as to Mary Burnett. Very late in the afternoon he heard from his clerk who had gone to check on the poultry dealer’s catalogue listings. Reed’s face was a trifle grimmer after that.

  At nine o’clock, after a dinner he hardly tasted, he drove around to the Nast house and found Tommy and Willis Lally there.

  “There is one thing I want to be sure of,” he said. “After I broke up the dinner party by leaving so precipitously, both of you came here to this house. You remained here until what time?”

  “Well, after midnight,” Willis said. “Nan was with us.”

  Nan, feeling much better, nodded acquiescence to that statement. Reed smiled.

  “Good. Tommy, you and Willis will have to come along with me. We’re going to pay Manning a visit. And, Tommy—I’d like to talk to you alone for a moment. In the hall will do.”

  Tommy answered Reed’s question directly. “Yes, I did check on the servants. There are five of them. I’ve listed each one. Beneath their names are the places where they formerly worked.”

  Reed studied that list intently, then put it a
way. He called to Willis. They all left the house, got into Reed’s car and drove to Manning’s home.

  The manufacturer was surprised, but apparently pleased to see them. He mixed some drinks, proffered cigarettes, and Reed started talking. He went over the case from the very beginning.

  “After I left so hurriedly,” he explained, “I returned to my office. Mrs. Nast had given me a sealed envelope to be opened in the event that James Burnett was killed by violence—and if someone was arrested for his murder. I did open that envelope, but not until the next morning, after Burnett’s wife had been arrested. Inside the envelope were some pages from a poultry catalogue and nothing else. My office had been burglarized by someone clever enough not to leave any traces.”

  “And Mrs. Nast died that night, too,” Manning gasped. “There must have been some connection.”

  “So it seems,” Reed nodded. “However, Mrs. Nast’s death was due to purely natural causes. An autopsy proved that.”

  There was an interruption when the doorbell rang. Manning answered it and returned, opening a telegram which had just arrived. He scanned it, grumbled something under his breath and put the telegram into his side coat pocket.

  Reed said, “The whole business is so complicated that I’ll have to draw an outline.” He took a pencil from his coat, fumbled for some paper to write on and found none. With a grin at Manning, he pulled the telegram from his pocket and placed it on the table.

  Manning reached out, scooped up the telegram and stepped back quickly.

  Reed smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was a merely trying to find something to make my notes on. I didn’t think the wire was very important. Just business routine.”

  “It was important,” Manning grumbled. “To me. And I don’t like having my personal possessions snatched from my pocket. Even by you, Peter.”

  Reed said, “All right. Let’s get on with it and to the devil with diagramming the whole thing. Here is the setup. I got a phone call to meet you three men. It came, oddly enough, just before nine o’clock. Rather short notice, but I accepted anyway. Now why was I summoned to that dinner and why doesn’t the person who invited me admit calling? I can answer that.”