The Mark of Cain

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER II WHO COULD HAVE DONE IT?

  Coroner Berg came down stairs and joined the group in the drawing-room.He was a bristling, fussy little man, with a decided sense of his ownimportance and evidently inclined to make much of his office. His sparse,sandy hair stood out straight from his head, and his light blue eyesdarted from one to another of the impatient people awaiting his report.

  "Sad case," he said, wringing his hands; "very sad case. Fine man likethat, struck down in the prime of life. Awful!"

  "We know that," and Avice looked annoyed at what she thought intrusivesympathy. "But who did it? What have you found out?"

  "Very little, Miss," answered Berg. "Your uncle was killed by a daggerthrust, while up in Van Cortlandt Park woods. His body was found in alonely spot up there, and there is no trace of the murderer. The policewere informed of the murder by telephone, which is a mighty queerperformance if you ask me! They say a Dago woman called up headquartersand told the story."

  "Extraordinary!" said Hoyt; "an Italian?"

  "Yes, sir; they say she sounded like one, anyhow."

  "And a dagger or stiletto was used," said Doctor Fulton, thoughtfully;"that looks like Italian work. Had your uncle any Italian enemies, MissTrowbridge?"

  "Not that I know of," and Avice spoke a little impatiently; "but unclehad no enemies that I know of. At least, none who would kill him."

  "He had enemies, then?" spoke up the coroner, alertly.

  "Uncle Rowly was not an easy-going man. He had many acquaintances withwhom he was not on terms of friendship. But I'm sure none of his quarrelswere grave enough to lead to this."

  "But somebody committed the crime, Miss Trowbridge, and who so likely asa known enemy? Tell me any of your uncle's unfriendly acquaintances."

  "Positively no one, Mr. Berg, who could be in the least suspected. I'mthinking of such men as Judge Greer, who holds political views opposed tothose of my uncle. And Professor Meredith, who is an enthusiasticnaturalist, but who disagrees with my uncle in some of theirclassifications. As you see, these are not sufficient grounds for killinga man."

  "Of course, not," said Hoyt. "I know those men, and their relations withMr. Trowbridge were really friendly, though differing opinions frequentlyled to quarrels. Mr. Trowbridge was quick-tempered and often said sharpthings, which he forgot as quickly as he uttered them."

  "Yes, he did," corroborated Avice. "Why, he sometimes scolded me, andsoon after was sunny and sweet again. No, I'm sure Uncle Rowland had noreal enemies, surely none that would seek his death. And the fact that anItalian woman gave the message proves to my mind that he was struck downby some horrid Italian society,--Black Hand, or whatever they call it."

  "That remains to be seen," said Berg, with an air of importance. "I shallconduct an inquest tomorrow morning. It is too late to get at it tonight,and too, I want to collect a little more evidence."

  "Where do you get evidence, Mr. Berg?" asked Avice, eager interest andcuriosity shining in her brown eyes.

  "Wherever I may pick it up. I must question the police further and I mustendeavor to trace that telephone call, though that is a hard matterusually. Then, also, I must question all members of this household. As tohis habits, I mean, and his whereabouts today. He left home this morning,as usual?"

  "Quite as usual," broke in Mrs. Black, before Avice could reply. "I wasprobably the one who saw him last as he departed. I went to the door withhim, and he,--he kissed me good-by." Mrs. Black's handkerchief waspressed into service, but she went on, clearly; "we were to have beenmarried next month. Our engagement had been announced."

  "And you heard nothing from Mr. Trowbridge during the day?"

  "No," said Avice, taking up the tale again; "uncle told me before he lefthe would be home by five, as I was to help him with his work. He is anaturalist, out of office hours, and I assist with his cataloguing. Then,when he didn't come at five, I was worried, and I kept on being worrieduntil--until--" and here the girl broke down and buried her face again inthe sofa pillows.

  "And you weren't worried?" asked Coroner Berg, turning his pale blue eyeson the housekeeper.

  "No," and Mrs. Black's voice was cool and composed; "I supposed he wasmerely detained by some business matter. I had no reason to fear any harmhad come to him."

  "When did _you_ last see him?" went on the coroner, turning to JudgeHoyt.

  "Let me see; it was--yes, it was last Friday. I was at his officeconsulting with him about some business, and promised to report today.But as I was called to Philadelphia today on an important matter, I wrotehim that I would come here to this house to see him this evening, andgive him the report he wanted."

  "And you went to Philadelphia today?"

  "Yes, I left there at three and reached New York at five. I intendedcoming here this evening, but when Miss Trowbridge telephoned me soonafter six, I came right up at once."

  "Well, I think I'll go now, for I may dig up something of importance atthe police station, and I'll be here tomorrow for the inquest at ten orthereabouts."

  As Coroner Berg left, the men from the undertaker's arrived, and thetrying session with them had to be gone through.

  "But I can't make arrangements about the funeral now," said poor Avice,breaking down again. "Why, I can't even realize Uncle Rowly is dead,and----"

  "Never mind, my dear," said Mrs. Black, "don't try to. Go to your roomnow, and leave the funeral matters to me. I will arrange everything, andJudge Hoyt will assist me with his advice."

  "Indeed you won't," said Avice, spiritedly: "I suppose I am still myuncle's niece. And I prefer to be consulted about the last rites forhim."

  "Then stay by all means," and Mrs. Black's voice was honey-sweet. "I onlymeant to save you a harrowing experience." She turned to the suave youngman who had with him a book of pictured caskets, and was soon deeplyinterested in the choice of shape, style and number of handles thatseemed to her most desirable.

  Avice looked at her with aversion. It seemed to the girl almost ghoulishto show such absorption in a question of the quality of black cloth, orthe lettering on the name-plate.

  "But it must be decided," said Mrs. Black. "Of course, we want the bestof everything, and it is the last honor we can pay to dear Mr.Trowbridge. You should be very thankful, Avice, that you have me here toassist and advise you. You are too young and inexperienced to attend tothese matters. Isn't that so, Judge Hoyt?"

  "It seems so to me, Mrs. Black. These selections must be made, and surelyyou are showing good taste and judgment."

  "Very well," returned Avice. "Go on, and get whatever you like. As forme, I'm far more concerned in hunting down my uncle's murderer. And Idoubt if that coroner man will do it. He's a perfect lump! He'll neverfind out anything!"

  "Why, Avice," remonstrated Hoyt, "what could he find out tonight? It is amysterious affair, and as we here know nothing of the crime, how couldMr. Berg discover anything from us?"

  "But he has no brains, no intelligence, no ingenuity!"

  "Coroners rarely have. It is their province only to question and learnthe circumstances. 'Sleuthing' is what you have in mind, and that must bedone by detectives."

  "I know it," cried Avice, eagerly; "that's what I said at first. Oh,Leslie, won't you get the very best detectives there are and put them onthe case at once?"

  "Wait a moment, Avice," said Mrs. Black, coldly. "I am not sure you arein absolute authority here. I have something to say in the decisions."

  "But surely, Mrs. Black, you want to spare no pains and no expense tolearn who killed Uncle Rowly!"

  "You talk very glibly of expense, my dear Avice. Until your uncle's willis read, how do you know who will be in a position to bear these expensesyou are so ready to incur?"

  Avice looked at the older woman with scorn. "I don't quite follow you,"she said, slowly; "but surely, whoever inherits my uncle's fortune, owesfirst the duty of bringing his murderer to justice!"

  Leslie Hoyt looked very grave. "As Mr. Trowbrid
ge's lawyer," he said, "Iknow the contents of the will. It will be read after the funeral. Untilthen, I am not at liberty to disclose it. I must go now, as I have someinvestigations to make myself. By the way, Avice, I brought home aPhiladelphia afternoon paper, and it contains a glowing account of thedebut of your friend, Rosalie Banks. But, perhaps, you don't care to seeit, now?"

  "Yes, leave it," said Avice, apathetically; "I am fond of Rosalie and I'dlike to look it over."

  Hoyt found the paper where he had left it on the hall table, and gave itto her, and then with a sympathetic, but unobtrusive pressure of herhand, the lawyer went away and the doctor also.

  "May I look at that Philadelphia paper a moment?" asked Mrs. Black, "Iwant to see an advertisement."

  "Certainly, here it is," and Avice passed it over. "Just think of Rosaliehaving her coming-out party just now while I'm in such sadness. We wereat school together, and though younger than I, she was always one of myfavorites."

  "You didn't care to go to the party?"

  "No it was yesterday, and I had that luncheon engagement here, you know.And oh, Eleanor, isn't it fortunate I am here and not in Philadelphia!"

  "Why? You can't do anything."

  "I know it. But it would have been awful to be away making merry whenuncle was--was breathing his last! Who _do_ you suppose did it?"

  "Some highway robber, of course. I always told your uncle he ought not togo off, in those lonely woods all by himself. He ran a risk every time.And now the tragedy has occurred."

  "It doesn't seem like a highway robber to use a dagger. They always havea club or a--what do they call it? a blackjack."

  "You seem to know a lot about such things, Avice. Well, I'm going to myroom, and you'd better do the same. We've a hard day before us tomorrow.I think it's dreadful to have an inquest here. I thought they always heldthem in the court-room or some such place."

  "They do, sometimes. Inquests are informal affairs. The coroner just asksanybody, hit or miss, anything he can think of. That's why I wish we hada cleverer coroner than that Berg person. I can't bear him."

  "I don't care what he's like, if he'll only get the scene over. Shall wehave to be present?"

  "Gracious! You couldn't keep me away. I want to hear every word and seeif there's any clue to the truth."

  The two went up to their rooms, but neither could sleep. Avice sat in aneasy chair by her open window, wondering and pondering as to who couldhave been the criminal. Mrs. Black, on the other hand, thought only ofherself and her own future.

  She was a very beautiful woman, with finely cut features and raven blackhair, which she wore in glossy smooth waves partly over her small ears.Her eyes were large and black and her mouth was scarlet and finelycurved. She was of Italian parentage, though born in America. Her husbandhad been a New York lawyer, but dying, left her in greatly straitenedcircumstances and she had gladly accepted the position of housekeeper inthe Trowbridge home. At first, she had rejected the advances of RowlandTrowbridge, thinking she preferred a younger and gayer man. But thekindness and generosity of her employer finally won her heart, or herjudgment, and she had promised to marry him. It is quite certain,however, that Eleanor Black would never have come to this decision, hadit not been for Rowland Trowbridge's wealth.

  Late into the night, Avice sat thinking. It seemed to her that she mustby some means ferret out the facts of the case,--must find the dastardlyvillain who killed her uncle and let justice mete out his punishment. Butwhere to turn for knowledge, she had no idea.

  Her mind turned to what Mr. Berg had said about enemies. It couldn't bepossible that either of the men she had mentioned could be implicated,but mightn't there be some one else? Perhaps some one she had never heardof. Then the impulse seized her to go down to her uncle's library, andlook over his recent letters. She might learn something of importance.Not for a moment did she hesitate to do this, for she knew she was theprincipal heir to his fortune, and the right to the house and itscontents was practically hers.

  And her motives were of the best and purest. All she desired was to getsome hint, some clue, as to which way to look for a possible suspect.

  Walking lightly, though taking no especial precautions of silence, shewent slowly down stairs, and reached the door of the library. From thehall, as she stood at the portiere, she heard some one talking inside theroom. Listening intently she recognized the voice of Eleanor Black at thetelephone.

  "Yes," Mrs. Black was saying: "keep still about it for thepresent,--yes,--yes, I'll do whatever you say,--but don't come heretonight. You see it was an Italian--yes, I'll meet you tomorrow at thesame time and same place. No, don't call me up,--when I can, I'll callyou."

  Hearing the click that told of the hanging up of the receiver Avicequickly stepped aside into an alcove of the hall, where she could not beseen.

  But apparently, Mrs. Black had no thought of any one near her, for sheturned off the library table light she had been using, and softly wentupstairs. A low hall light was sufficient illumination for this, andAvice saw her go.

  After waiting a few moments, the girl went into the library, and firstclosing the door, she switched on the light.

  Taking up the telephone, she said to the operator, "Please tell me thatnumber I just had. I can't remember it, and I want to preserve it."

  Sleepily the girl responded, telling the number and exchange.

  "Thank you," said Avice, and hanging up the receiver she went to the deskand jotted down the number.

  "Not that I have the least suspicion of Eleanor," she said to herself,"but if I'm going to investigate, I mustn't leave a stone unturned,especially anything so unusual as a midnight telephoning."

  And then Avice set herself to the task she had come for. But she foundnothing definite or incriminating. There were some old and carefullypreserved notes from men who were very evidently angry with her uncle,but they were not sufficiently strong to point to anything criminal.There was the usual collection of bills, business letters and memoranda,but nothing to interest or alarm her, and finally, growing wearied, shewent back upstairs.

  As she passed Mrs. Black's door it softly opened, and the lady herself,wrapped in a kimono, looked out. Her long black hair hung in two braids,and her eyes were very bright.

  "Avice, where have you been? At this time of night!"

  "Just down in the library, looking after some matters."

  "Well, it's time you were in bed," and the door closed again.

  "H'm," thought Avice, "she is afraid I heard her telephoning! That's whyshe's on the watch!"

  And now, her momentary weariness gone, Avice was again widely awake.

  "I've got to think it out," she told herself. "I don't for a minuteimagine Eleanor is implicated in Uncle Rowly's death, but what was shetelephoning for? And she said 'it was an Italian,' and she's Italianherself, and there's something queer. I'm glad I got that telephonenumber, but I doubt if I'll ever use it. It doesn't seem quite right now,though it did when I asked Central for it. I believe I'll tear it up."

  But she didn't.