CHAPTER XI The Heir Speaks Out
The days that followed were like an awful nightmare to the people mostinterested. But at last the inquest was over, the body of Gifford Brucehad been sent to Chicago for burial, and a strange quiet had settled downupon the household at Black Aspens.
No new facts had transpired at the inquest. Though the police tried hardto fasten the crime on some individual, there was no definite evidenceagainst any one. All those who had been present at the mysterious deathhour, told their stories straightforwardly and unshakably. All agreed asto the circumstances, all remembered and related the story of the Ouijaboard, which foretold the death of two of the party at four o'clock.
"Who was pushing that board?" the coroner asked.
"Miss Reid and myself," Tracy spoke up. "We had been playing with it forsome time, and having had only uninteresting and trifling results we wereabout to lay the thing aside, when the message came that two of us woulddie the next day at four o'clock. Miss Reid seemed frightened, but Ithought at the time she had spelled out the message, herself, to get up alittle excitement. However, I took the board away from her at once,feeling that she was carrying a jest too far. I think now, that she wasinnocent in the matter----"
"Well, I don't," said the coroner. "If that girl made up that message,she had a reason. Probably she was responsible for both deaths."
"Impossible!" cried Tracy, shocked at this theory. "Why, she was but achild, she had no thought of suicide or--or murder! If she faked themessage, it was merely in fun, and because she had tried all evening toget some message of interest. It is quite possible she made up themessage, but it is not possible that she did it otherwise than as ajest."
"A gruesome jest!"
"As it turned out, yes, indeed. But either it was in jest,--or--themessage was from a supernatural source."
Tracy's eyes were deeply sorrowful, and his face expressed a sort of awedwonder, that made many who were present, think that after all there mightbe something in these occult beliefs.
But not so the coroner. He refused to consider the Ouija message with anyserious interest, and continued to ply his witnesses with questions bothpertinent and wide of the mark.
Elijah Stebbins was put through a grilling inquiry. His manner was thatof a guilty man, but no proof of crime could be found in connection withhim. The day and hour of the two deaths, he was proved to have been athis home in East Dryden, beyond all doubt. Even granting that theThorpes, one or both, were in his employ, there was no reason to suspectthem. If they had put poison in the cakes or in the tea, it must havebeen done in the kitchen, and therefore would have affected the wholesupply. Suspicion must fall, if anywhere, on the members of the houseparty who were present at the hour of four o'clock on the fatal day.
But these, as has been said, gave so clear a statement of the actualhappenings at that hour, that there was no loophole for suspicion toenter. Moreover, the fact that the deaths occurred simultaneously, andjust at the foretold hour, seemed to preclude all possibility of anyhuman means being employed. It did look like a supernatural occurrenceand many who would have scorned such a belief, were inevitably led toagree that no other theory could explain it.
Yet the coroner and his jury were unwilling to admit this, and theverdict was the one most frequently heard of, murder by a person orpersons unknown.
Indeed, what else could it have been? A coroner's jury can't accuse anameless ghost of two murders, by poison. They pinned their faith to thatpoison, discovered in the stomach of the body of Gifford Bruce. Theyassumed that Miss Reid died from the effects of the same poison, but howadministered or by whom, or what had become of the body of Miss Reid,they had no idea. But of one thing they were sure, that all these things,and all parts of the complicated crime, were the work of human hands andhuman intelligence, and that for the reputation of their village andtheir county and their state, the murderer must be discovered and broughtto justice.
But how? How find a criminal who gave no signs of existence, and who was,by those most closely concerned, denied actual existence?
The detective, one Dan Peterson, proceeded on the theory that a closedmouth implies great secret wisdom. He said little, save to ask questionsof everybody with whom he came in contact, and as these questions merelycarried him round in a circle back to his starting point, he made littleprogress.
There were also, of course, many reporters, from the city papers, andthese wrote up the story as their natures or their chiefs dictated. Someplayed up the supernatural side for all it was worth, and more; othersscorned such foolishness, and treated the affair as a desperate andunusually mysterious murder case. But all agreed that it was the mostsensational and interesting affair of its sort that had happened inyears, and the eager reporters hung around and nearly drove frantic thefeminine members of the house party.
At last, Norma and Milly refused to see them, but Eve Carnforth continuedto talk with them, and imbued many of them, more or less, with her occultviews.
"There's something in what that red-headed woman says," one reporteropined to his fellow. "She puts it mighty convincing,--if you ask me."
"Yes, and why?" jeered his friend, "because she's the man behind theghost!"
"What! Miss Carnforth! Guilty? Never!"
"I'm not so sure. You know as well as I do, that spook talk is allrubbish, but she's so bent and determined to stuff it down everybody'sneck, I think she's hiding her own hand in the matter."
"You do! Well, you'd better think again, before you let out any such yarnas that! Why, she's a queen, that woman is!"
"Oho! She's subjugated you, has she? Well, look out that she doesn'tconvert you to spookism,--you'd lose your job!"
Other curious people journeyed up to Black Aspens for the pleasure oflooking at the house where the mystery was staged. If allowed to enterthey walked about, open-mouthed in admiration or wonder.
"Stunning hall!" exclaimed one young man, a budding architect, whoexamined the old house with interest. "Look at those bronze columns! Inever saw such a pair."
"I've heard the first Montgomery brought those from Italy or somewhere,and put up a house behind 'em," volunteered another sightseer. "Ain't itqueer, the way they're half in and half out of the front wall? Land! Youwouldn't know whether you was going to school or coming home!" and thespeaker laughed heartily at his own wit.
But at last, the sightseers were refused admittance to the house, and theremaining members of the party gathered in conclave to decide on futureplans.
Professor Hardwick was the one who showed the calmest demeanour.
"If there was a chance of a human being having committed these crimes,"he said, "I'd be the first one to want to track him down, and send himstraight to the chair. But nobody who has thought about the matter canpresent any theory that will account for the human element in the causeof the tragedy. Therefore, feeling certain, as I do, that our friendswere killed by supernatural influences, I am ready to stay here a shorttime longer, in hopes of convincing the authorities up here that we areright. Moreover, I planned to stay here a month, and we've been here butlittle more than a fortnight."
"I'm willing to stay for the same reason, Professor," and Eve Carnforth'sstrange eyes glowed deeply. "I too, know that no living beings broughtabout the deaths of Mr. Bruce and little Vernie, and I will stay the restof our proposed month, if the others will."
"I am ready to stay," said Milly Landon, quietly. "I've gotten all overmy hysterical, foolish fears, and I _want_ to stay. I have a good reason,and if I hadn't, I'd be willing to stay to keep house for the rest ofyou."
"Let's consider it settled, then," said Landon, "that we stay a couple ofweeks longer. The astute detective, Mr. Peterson, thinks he can round upthe villains who did the awful things, and if he can, I'm ready to appearagainst them."
"We're all ready to do that," agreed Mr. Tracy, "and I'll stay a week orso, but I want to get away by the middle of August."
"That's near
ly two weeks hence," observed Norma, "I'd like to go homeabout that time, too. And all that's to be discovered, which, I suppose,will be nothing, ought to be found out in that time."
"It wouldn't surprise me to have some further spiritual manifestations,"the Professor stated, with a deeply thoughtful air. "I don't know whythere wouldn't be such."
"Not with fatal results, I hope," and Mr. Tracy shuddered.
"I hope not, too," and the Professor looked grave. "But if we receiveanother warning, I shall go home at once."
"I don't think we will," Eve said, "I think there was a reason for thewrath of the phantasms, and now that wrath is appeased. We must notprovoke it further."
"You know," Norma added, "the two who--who died, were scoffers at theidea of spiritual visitations."
"Uncle Gif was," said Braye, "but little Vernie wasn't."
"Oh, yes, she was," corrected Eve. "She made fun of our beliefs allalong. And if she really made the Ouija write that message in a spirit ofbravado, it's small wonder that the vengeance reached her as well as Mr.Bruce, who openly jeered at it all."
"I can't think it," mused Tracy, "that sweet, lovable child,--full ofmischief, of course, but simple, harmless mischief,----"
"But, Mr. Tracy," Norma looked and spoke positively, "it's easier tothink of a supernatural spirit wanting to harm the child, than a livingperson! What possible cause could a human being have to wish harm tolittle Vernie Reid?"
"That's true, Miss Cameron. But it's inexplicable, however you look atit."
"At the same time," Braye argued, "we must give both sides a chance. Ifthere is any trick or scheme that a man might have used to bring aboutthose deaths at that moment,--I can't conceive of any, but if thereshould have been such,--we must, of course, give all possible assistanceto Mr. Peterson in his search."
"I'm more than willing," said Tracy, "I'm anxious to help him for, as yousay, Braye, if there's a human mind capable of devising means to commitsuch a crime, it surely ought to be within the province of some otherhuman mind to discover it."
"Suppose we start out on that basis," suggested Braye. "I mean, assumethat a live person did the deed, and it's up to us to find him. Then ifwe can't do it, fall back on our occult theories."
"I know where I'd look first," said Landon, grimly.
"Where?"
"Toward Eli Stebbins. I've always thought he or the Thorpes, or all ofthem together, know more than we suspect they do. Why, think a minute. Doyou remember the first queer, inexplicable thing that happened up here?"
"I do," Eve spoke up. "It was the night we arrived. That battered oldcandlestick moved itself from Mr. Bruce's room to Vernie's."
"Yes, Eve, that's what I have in mind. Well, I thought then, and I thinknow, that Stebbins moved that thing himself."
"Why?" asked several voices at once.
"I thought I saw him sneaking across the hall that night. And as youknow, none of us would have done it, and I don't think Mr. Bruce did. Ithought that at first, but since Mr. Bruce's death, I know he neverplayed any tricks on us."
"Oh, that doesn't follow," objected Hardwick. "I always suspected Brucewould trick us if he could, but when it came to his own death, I've nonotion that he compassed that!"
"No," agreed Braye, "whatever the truth may be, there was no suicide."
And so they talked, discussed, surmised, argued and theorized, withoutgetting any nearer a positive belief, or proof of any sort to upholdtheir opinions.
Each seemed to have marked out a certain line of thought and doggedlystuck to it.
Professor Hardwick was, perhaps, the one most positive regardingsupernatural causes, though Eve and Norma were almost equally certain.
Braye and Landon were not entirely willing to accept these beliefs, butconfessed they had no plausible substitutes to suggest. Tracy, as aclergyman, was loth to accept what seemed to him heathen ideas, but hewas more or less influenced by the talk of the Professor and of EveCarnforth, who was exceedingly persuasive in manner and argument.
Milly had little thought of her own about the matter, but was alwaysready to believe as her husband did, though, she, too, was swayed by thestrong statements and declarations of Eve Carnforth.
But Dan Peterson paid no more heed to ghost lore of any sort or kind thanas if the words had not been spoken. Miss Carnforth's glib recital ofwonders she knew to be true, Miss Cameron's quiet statements that shevouched for as facts, the Professor's irascible arguments, all were asnothing to the practical, hard-headed detective.
"No, ma'am," he said to Eve; "it ain't that I doubt your word, but thosethings don't go down. I've seen criminals before, try to get out byblaming ghosts, but they couldn't put it over."
"Are you implying that one of us may be guilty!" cried Eve, reallyincensed at the thought.
"I'm not implying anything, ma'am. I'm investigating. When I find outanything, I'll accuse, I won't imply."
The man's personality was not unpleasant. Of a commonplace type, he wentabout his business cheerfully, and in a practical, common sense fashion.
He examined the great hall, where the deaths had occurred, for a possiblesecret entrance.
"Nothing doing," was his sum-up of this investigation. "That mahoganywall of the vestibule is as solid as a rock, and nobody could get throughthose bronze doors when they're locked and fastened with those bolts!"
"Are you assuming that some one entered and killed the victims, as we allsat round drinking tea?" exclaimed the Professor, irascibly.
"Not just that, sir," returned Peterson, gravely. "But somebody mighthave entered in the night, say, and secreted himself,----"
"And then appeared to poison the cake when we weren't looking!" jeeredLondon.
"Well," and the detective looked a little sheepish, "I got to considerall points, you know. And there don't seem to be any clues--of any sort."
"No," said Braye, "no dropped handkerchief or broken cuff-link. Thosewould be a help, wouldn't they?"
"And then," Landon went on, "usually, there's somebody who had a quarrelwith the victim, and so, can be duly suspected. But there's nothing ofthat sort in this case."
"Nobody at odds with Mr. Bruce, wasn't there?" asked the detective,hopefully.
"Nobody," declared Landon. "Now you may as well know all there is toknow, Peterson. Mr. Braye here, is the heir to Mr. Bruce's large fortune.After him, I inherit. If these facts are of the nature of straws to showyou which way the wind blows, make the most of them. But do it openly. Ifyou suspect Mr. Braye or myself, even in the slightest degree, tell usso. Don't work behind our backs. We're ready and willing to help you.That's so, Braye?"
"Rather, Wynne! Moreover, if there's any way to use it, the fortune ofUncle Bruce is at the disposal of anybody who can bring the criminal tojustice. I don't want the money,--at least, I can't enjoy it, and don'twant it, considering the way it has come to me. I shall endow a hospitalor something with it. For, truly,--I may be foolish, but I can't seem tosee myself living luxuriously on money that has come to me as this has. Idon't wonder that to an outsider, it might look very much as if I hadremoved these two people in order that I might acquire riches, or, itwould have looked so, if I had been here at the time. I doubt if the mostfertile imagination can invent a way I could have been the criminal whenI was in East Dryden shopping with Mrs. Landon."
"Also, Mr. Peterson," Landon resumed, "remember that I am the next toinherit, and if I could have compassed the taking off of these two, Icould doubtless have later despatched Mr. Braye, and so have come intothe fortune myself."
"Wynne," pleaded Milly, "_don't_ say those things! They're too absurd!"
"Not that, Milly dear. Mr. Peterson might easily take up some such lineof deduction, and while I'm willing he should do so, and proceed in anyway he chooses, I repeat that I want him to do it openly, and not try toconvict Rudolph or myself, behind our backs. When I proffer him my help,it is in a real and sincere offer of assistance, and I want him to beequally frank and outspoken."
"I guess you're pre
tty safe in your attitude," said Peterson, smiling."Criminals don't speak right out in meeting, like that. And I don'tsuspect you gentlemen, if you _are_ heirs to the property. I thinkthere's others to be suspected, and I promise you, sir, if I'm led towardany of your party here, I'll tell you what I'm up to."
"That's enough, Peterson, I trust you to keep your word, and you may relyon us to help in any way we can."
And so life at Black Aspens settled down to its former routine, at leastin matters of daily household affairs. But the actuating principle of thepsychic investigators had changed. Those who thoroughly believed inoccultism, sought expectantly for further proofs. Those who were stilluncertain, awaited developments. And those who had little or no belief inthe supernatural sought some clues or hints that might point to a humancriminal.
Dan Peterson was among these last. A good, able-minded detective, thoughnot of the transcendental type found in story-books, he worked diligentlyat his problem, which seemed to him a harder one than he had ever beforetackled.
His suspicions were all toward the servants of the house, and with thesehe included Elijah Stebbins.
Nor was he illogical in his thoughts. Stebbins was acting queerly. He wasfrightened at questions, and was difficult to get hold of for aninterview. He answered at random, frequently contradicted himself, andshowed a positive terror of his own house, since the tragedies there.
"If he killed those two people with his own hands, he couldn't act anydifferent," Peterson said to Landon, whom he frequently consulted. "But Ican't imagine any way to connect him up with it. He was home in EastDryden when they died, and that's certain. Now, if he could have made oldThorpe act as his tool--but, Lord, why would he do it, anyhow! It's tooabsurd to think Stebbins would want to take those two lives! He wantedyou people should be scared, that I'm sure of. He did all he could toscare you,--that I know. But as to killing any of you, I'm sure hedidn't. Howsumever, somebody committed those murders, and I'm going tofind out who!"
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