VI A NEIGHBOR'S CALL
"Oh, is it not terrible? What _can_ I say to comfort you!"
Mrs. Frothingham's distressed tones and her air of eager, intensesympathy met with little response from Pauline.
Haviland had been called from the room on an errand and Anita'swillingness to receive the neighbor's condolences did not seemacceptable. The overdressed, forward-mannered widow continued to directher attention entirely to Pauline, and that young woman merely surveyedher visitor coolly and replied in monosyllables.
"Thanks," she said, and her icy air would have deterred a less determinedintruder.
"I simply couldn't help running over as soon as I heard the dreadfulnews. For we are neighbors after all, though not so very well acquainted;and neighbors have a camaraderie of their own, I think."
"Yes?" said Pauline, and her eyelids fell slightly, with an expression ofboredness.
"Yes, indeed," Mrs. Frothingham rattled on; "and I said to our dearCount, we must run over at once, there may be something we can do for thesaddened ones."
"Thank you;" and had a marble statue been given vocal powers the effectwould have been much the same.
"Dear friend," continued the unabashed visitor, "I know how overcome youmust be----"
"I am not overcome at all," said Pauline, rising, and determined to hearno more; "and I must beg to be excused, Mrs. Frothingham, as I have manymatters to attend to this morning."
"Ah, yes, of course, you have. We will not detain you. The Count and Imerely called for a moment to inquire----"
"Yes, I quite understand. Miss Frayne will be pleased to answer yourinquiries. Thank you both, and--good-morning."
With a polite but distant bow, Pauline left the room, and as CountCharlier sprang to hold the door open for her, he, after a moment'shesitation, followed her out.
"A moment, I beg, Miss Stuart," he said as they reached the hall; "Youare offended at Mrs. Frothingham's intrusion, but have I not a right tocall? Was I not such a friend of Miss Carrington as to justify thistribute of respect to her memory?"
"Certainly, Count," and Pauline grew a shade kinder, "but I am notsufficiently acquainted with your friend to receive her visits."
"Ah, no. That is conceded. But, I pray you, tell me of the sad affair. Ihave heard no details,--that is, unless you would rather not."
"No, I am not unwilling. You were a good friend of Aunt Lucy's--she wasfond of you, and I am glad to talk to some one. Let us sit here." Paulineindicated a recessed seat in the hall and the pair sat there. Sherecounted briefly the story of the tragedy and the Count was dulysympathetic. Pauline watched him closely, and discerned great interestbut little grief or sorrow.
"A burglar, of course," said the Count hearing of the cruel weapon. "How_could_ any one attack the charming lady! And the marvelous jewels shewore! They were, of course, stolen?"
"No; that's the strange part. They were not."
"Ah, how splendid!" and his absorbed air of satisfaction gave Pauline athrill of disgust at his cold-bloodedness. "And now they are all yours?Those magnificent gems?"
"The property, most of it, is divided between my cousin and myself."
"Your cousin? Mr. Haviland?"
"No; he is but a distant connection. I mean my first cousin, Mr. Loria,now in Egypt."
"Ah, yes, I have heard Miss Carrington refer to him. He will come home?"
"I do not know. We have cabled of course. Count Charlier, do you rememberhearing my aunt say, last evening, that she expected something to happento her?"
"I remember, Miss Stuart."
"Have you any idea what she meant?"
"I? But how could I know?"
"Answer my question, please."
The Count's eyes fell, and he shifted his feet about uneasily. At last hesaid: "It is not pleasant to say such things, but since you ask, I may bepermitted to assume that the late Miss Carrington had a regard for myhumble self."
"And she expected, she--hoped that her regard might be returned?"
"It may be so."
"And that last night you might tell her so?"
"You honor me."
"Did you tell her so?"
"I did not, Miss Stuart. What might have happened had she lived I cannotsay, but I did not, last evening, say any word to Miss Carrington of myaspiration to her hand."
"Did you say anything that could have been taken as a hint that sometime, say, in the near future, you might express such an aspiration?"
"I may have done so."
"Thank you, Count Charlier. I had perhaps no right to ask, but you haveanswered my rather impertinent questions straightforwardly, and I thankyou."
Pauline rose, as if to end the interview. In the doorway appeared Anita."Pauline," she said, "I wish you would come back and listen to Mrs.Frothingham's story. It seems to me of decided importance."
"You have something to tell me?" asked Pauline, returning to the libraryand looking at the unwelcome neighbor with patient tolerance.
"Yes, Miss Stuart. Now, it may be nothing,--nothing, I mean, ofconsequence, that is, you may not think so, but I----"
"Suppose you let me hear it and judge for myself."
"Yes. Well, it's only this. I was wakeful last night, or rather earlythis morning, and looking from my bedroom window, which faces this house,I saw a man climb out of a window on the first floor and skulk away amongthe shrubbery."
"At what time was this?" and Pauline looked interested at last.
"About four o'clock. He was to all appearances a burglar----"
"How could you tell? Was it not dark at that hour in the morning?"
"No; the moon is past full, you know, and it shone brightly in thewestern sky."
"Enough for you to discern the man clearly?"
"I took a field-glass to assist my vision. He stealthily climbed out andskirting the bushes made his way swiftly toward the great gates."
"This is indeed an important bit of information, Mrs. Frothingham; I daresay you ought to tell it to the police who are here."
"Oh, I couldn't! I'm so timid about such things! But,--if you would gowith me, Miss Stuart----"
"Miss Frayne will go with you," said Pauline, coolly; "You will find apoliceman in the hall who will direct you where to find the Inspector."
Without another word Pauline bowed in a way to include the lady and theCount also, and went away to her own room.
"Stuck-up thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Frothingham, and Anita nodded her goldenhead in agreement.
Inspector Brunt instructed Hardy to hear the story of Mrs. Frothingham,and he devoted his own attention to Count Charlier, of whom he had heardas being a friend of Miss Carrington's.
He quizzed the Frenchman rather pointedly as to his friendship with theunfortunate lady and the Count became decidedly ill at ease.
"Why do you ask me so much?" he objected; "I was a friend, yes; I mayhave aspired to a nearer relation, yes? That is no crime?"
"Not at all, Count," said Mr. Brunt; "I only want to find out if MissCarrington's strange reference to something about to happen to her couldhave had any reference to you."
"It might be so; I cannot say. But all that has no bearing on the poorlady's death."
"No. At what time did you go away from here, Count Charlier?"
"At about midnight."
"You went directly home?"
"To Mrs. Frothingham's, where I am a house guest, yes."
"And you retired?"
"Yes."
"And remained in your bed till morning?"
"But of a certainty, yes! What are you implying? That I had a hand inthis affair?"
"No, no; be calm, my dear sir. I ask you but one question. Is this yourglove?"
The Inspector took the glove from his pocket and offered it to the Count.
The Frenchman took it, examined it minutely and without haste.
"No, sir," he said, returning it; "that is not my property."
"Thank you, that
is all," and the Inspector put the glove back in hispocket.
"There is no doubt as to the main facts," said the Inspector, a half hourlater, as, with the members of the family he summed up what had beenfound out from all known sources. "The assailant was most certainly aburglarious intruder; the weapon, this 'black-jack'; the motive, robbery.Why the robbery was not achieved and what is the meaning of theunexplained circumstances of the whole affair, we do not yet know. Theyare matters to be investigated, but they cannot greatly affect theprincipal conditions. You may be thankful, Miss Stuart, that the saddeath of your aunt was undoubtedly painless; and also that the thief didnot succeed in his attempt to purloin the valuable gems."
The Inspector's speech might seem cold-hearted, but Brunt was a practicalman, and he was truly glad for himself that in addition to finding themurderer he did not also have to recover a fortune of rare jewels.
"Now," he went on, "as to the maid, Estelle. I have talked with her, butshe is so hysterical and her stories so contradictory, that I am inclinedto the opinion that she has some sort of guilty knowledge or at leastsuspicion of the intruder. The man was stocking-footed, and it is a pity,Miss Stuart, that you erased that footprint on the floor! But it wouldhave been of doubtful use, I dare say. We have found faint tracks of thepowder on the steps of the staircase, and though the last ones are almostindiscernible they seem to lead through the butler's pantry, and to anexit by that window. But the window was found fastened this morning, so,if it was used as a means for the burglar's getaway, it must have beenfastened afterward by some person inside. Could this person have been themaid, Estelle?"
"Sure it could!" exclaimed Haviland, who was an interested listener."That girl is a sly one! I caught her this morning, trying to take awaythat glass of milk. I told her to let it alone."
"Why?" asked the Inspector.
"Because I thought if she wanted to get it away, there must be somereason for her to want it! What was it?"
"Nonsense!" and Anita looked scornfully at Gray; "naturally, Estellewould do up the rooms, and would, of course, remove the remains of MissLucy's night luncheon."
"But that's just it!" said Haviland, triumphantly: "she didn't take theplate that had had sandwiches on it! If she had, I should have thoughtnothing of it. But she took the glass of milk, in a furtive, stealthyway, that made me look at her. She turned red, and trembled, and I toldher to set the glass down. She pretended not to hear, so I told heragain. Then she obeyed. But she glared at me like a tigress."
"Oh, rubbish!" said Anita. "She was annoyed at being interfered with inher work, and perhaps fearful of being censured."
"All right," said Haviland, "then there's no harm done. If that girl isentirely innocent, what I said won't hurt her. But she looked to me as ifon a secret errand and a desperate one."
"What puzzles me is," mused the Inspector, "why she persists in sayingthat she left the tray in good order in the room,--though it wasdiscovered an hour later, upset,--when we know that Miss Carrington hadbeen dead since, at least, two or three o'clock."
"Look here, Inspector," and Haviland frowned, "if the murder wascommitted at two or three o'clock, how is it that Mrs. Frothingham sawthe intruder escaping at four or later?"
"There is a discrepancy there," admitted Brunt, "but it may be explainedaway. The doctors cannot be sure until the autopsy is completed of theexact hour of death, and, too, the lady next door may have made an errorin time."
"Well, I'll inform you that Estelle did upset that tray herself," saidPauline with an air of finality.
"How do you know?" and Inspector Brunt peered at her over his glasses.
"It was while Gray was telephoning for the doctor," said Pauline,reminiscently, "that I looked carefully at that overturned tray."
"I know it," said Haviland, "I told you not to touch anything."
"I know that, but I did. I picked up from the _debris_, this;" andPauline held up to view a tiny hairpin of the sort called 'invisible.'
"It is Estelle's," she said; "see, it is the glistening bronze color ofher hair. Anita has gold-colored ones, and I do not use these fine wireones. I use only shell. Moreover, I know this is Estelle's,--don't you,Anita?"
"It may be."
"It is. And its presence there, on the tray, proves that she let the trayfall in her surprise at seeing Aunt Lucy, and in her trembling excitementloosened and dropped this hairpin. Doubtless, she flung her hand up toher head--a not unusual gesture of hers--and so dislodged it."
Brunt looked closely at the speaker. "You've got it all fixed up, haven'tyou, Miss Stuart?"
Pauline flushed slightly. "I didn't 'fix it up,' as you call it, but Idid gather, from what I saw, that the truth must be as I have stated; andin my anxiety to learn anything possible as to the mystery of this crime,I secured what may or may not be a bit of evidence. As Mr. Haviland hassaid, if Estelle is entirely innocent of any complicity in the matter,these things can't hurt her. But it would scarcely be possible for her tohave been so careless as to drop a hairpin on the tray without noticingit, if she were not startled and flurried by something that took her mindand eyes entirely away from her duties."
"I think you are purposely making a great deal out of nothing," remarkedAnita; "it seems unfair, to say the least, to condemn the poor girl onsuch trifling evidence."
The talk was interrupted by the entrance of the Coroner and the twodoctors.
"It is found," said Coroner Scofield, "that the cause of MissCarrington's death was not the blow on the head."
The Inspector looked his amazement, and the others sat with receptivelyblank countenances waiting further disclosures.
"No," went on Scofield, "we find in the stomach unmistakable traces ofpoison."
"Poison!" It was Anita's frightened whisper; "who would poison her?"
"What kind of poison?" asked Brunt.
"Aconitine; deadly and sure. It leaves little trace, but certain testsreveal it beyond all doubt. That is why we have been so long. The testsare difficult of performance. But, it is over, and we report that MissLucy Carrington was poisoned by aconitine, administered either by her ownhand or another."
"Oh, she never would poison herself!" cried Anita; "who did it?"
"And the blow on the head?" said Inspector Brunt, looking deeplyperplexed.
"Her death, from poison, occurred at or near two o'clock," asserted theCoroner; "the blow on the head was given after life had departed."
"Incredible!" said Brunt.
"It is, indeed, Inspector. But those are the facts. The heavy blowfractured the skull, but left no bruise or mark, nor was there any bloodfrom the cut scalp. In addition we have the poison found in the system,and the death symptoms of quiet, placid dissolution which are consequentalways on that particular poison."
"Could it have been self-administered?" asked Brunt.
"Not by Miss Carrington," said Doctor Stanton, decidedly. "The lady hasbeen my patient for years, and she had an absolute abhorrence of allsorts of drugs or medicines. She made more fuss over taking a simplepowder than a spoiled child. I have often prescribed for her, knowingfull well she would not take my prescriptions because of her detestationof taking medicine. When remedies have been really necessary, I have hadto administer them while with her, and a difficult task it was. Moreover,my patient was not of the temperament or disposition to seek death forherself, nor had she any reason to do so. No; the case is murder; thepoison was administered by some one who wished for her death anddeliberately set out to accomplish it,--and succeeded."
"Is the action of this poison instantaneous?" asked Brunt.
"No; death ensues about a half hour to an hour after the dose is takeninto the system."
"Then, we gather that the poison was taken in the neighborhood of oneo'clock, last night."
"Yes," agreed the Coroner, "about one o'clock."
"About one o'clock!" whispered Anita, in an awe-struck, gasping way, andher great blue eyes stared dazedly into the dark ones of Pauline.
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