CHAPTER VII STEPHANOTIS
Now Mr. Berg's disposition was of the sort that when offended, desires totake it out of some one else rather than to retaliate on the offender.So, after a little further questioning of the still bewildered Swede heturned again to Landon.
"Let us dismiss the matter of the Swede and his evidence," he said,lightly, "and resume the trend of our investigations. Do I understand,Mr. Landon, that you expect to inherit a legacy from your late uncle?"
Landon's eyes flashed. "I don't know what you understand, Mr. Coroner. Asa matter of fact, I haven't much opinion of your understanding. But Iknow nothing of the legacy you speak of, save that my uncle said to meyesterday, that he would leave me fifty thousand dollars in his will.Whether he did or not, I do not know."
The statement was made carelessly, as most of Kane Landon's statementswere, and he seemed all unaware of the conclusions immediately drawn fromhis words.
"Judge Hoyt," said the coroner, turning to the lawyer, "are youacquainted with the terms of Mr. Trowbridge's will?"
"Most certainly, as I drew up the document," was the answer.
"Is Kane Landon a beneficiary?"
"Yes; to the extent of fifty thousand dollars."
It was impossible not to note the gleam of satisfaction that came intoLandon's eyes at this news. Hoyt gave him a stare of utter scorn andAvice looked amazed and grieved.
"You seem pleased at the information, Mr. Landon," the coroner observed.
Landon favored him with a calm, indifferent glance and made no response.
Berg turned again to Miss Wilkinson, the blonde stenographer.
"Will you tell me," he said, "if you know, what caused Mr. Trowbridge toleave his office early, yesterday?"
The girl hesitated. She shot a quick glance at Landon, and then lookeddown again. She fidgeted with her handkerchief, and twice essayed tospeak, but did not finish.
"Come," said Berg, sharply, "I am waiting."
"I don't know," said Miss Wilkinson at last.
Fibsy gave a quick whistle. "She does know," he declared; "she takes allthe telephone calls, and she knows the G'uvnor went out 'cause somebodytelephoned for him."
"Is this true?" asked Berg of the girl.
"How can I tell?" she retorted, pertly. "Mr. Trowbridge had a lot oftelephone calls yesterday, and I don't know whether he went out becauseof one of them or not. _I_ don't listen to a telephone conversation afterMr. Trowbridge takes the wire."
"You do so!" said Fibsy, in a conversational tone. "Mr. Berg, Yellowtoptold me just after the Guv'nor went out, that he'd gone 'cause somebodyasked him over the wire to go to Van Cortlandt Park."
"Tell the truth," said Berg to the girl, curtly.
"Well, I just as lief," she returned; "but it ain't my way to tell ofprivate office matters in public."
"Make it your way, now, then. It's time you understand the seriousness ofthis occasion!"
"All right. Somebody, then,--some man,--did call Mr. Trowbridge about twoo'clock, and asked him to go to Van Cortlandt Park."
"What for? Did he say?"
"Yes, he said somebody had set a trap for him."
"Set a trap for him! What did he mean?"
"How do I know what he meant? I ain't a mind-reader! I tell you what hesaid,--I can't make up a meanin' for it too. And I ain't got a right totell this much. I don't want to get nobody in trouble."
The girl was almost in tears now, but whether the sympathy was forherself or another was an open question.
"You have heard, Miss Wilkinson, of testimony that means to be true, butis--er--inexact." The coroner smiled a trifle, as if thus atoning for hisown late slip. "Therefore, I beg that you will do your utmost to rememberexactly what that message was."
"I do, 'cause I thought it was such a funny one. The man said, 'you'dbetter come, he's set a trap for you.' And Mr. Trowbridge says 'I can'tgo today, I've got an engagement' And the other man said, 'Oh, c'mon.It's a lovely day, and I'll give you some stephanotis.'"
"Stephanotis!"
"Yes, sir, I remembered that, 'cause it's my fav'rite puffume."
"Was Mr. Trowbridge in the habit of using perfumery?" asked Berg ofAvice.
"Never," she replied, looking at the blonde witness with scorn.
"I don't care," Miss Wilkinson persisted, doggedly; "I know he said that,for I had a bottle of stephanotis one Christmas, and I never smelledanything so good. And then he said something about the Caribbean Sea----"
"Now, Miss Wilkinson, I'm afraid you're romancing a little," and thecoroner looked at her in reproof.
"I'm telling you what I heard. If you don't want to hear it, I'll stop."
"We want to hear it, if it's true, not otherwise. Are you sure this mansaid these absurd things?"
"They weren't absurd, leastways, Mr. Trowbridge didn't think so. I knowthat, 'cause he was pleasant and polite, and when the man said he'd givehim some stephanotis Mr. Trowbridge said, right off, he'd go."
"Go to the Caribbean Sea with him?"
"I don't know whether he meant that or not. I didn't catch on to what hesaid about that, but I heard Caribbean Sea all right."
"Do you know where that sea is?"
"No, sir. But I studied it in my geography at school, I forget where itis, but I remember the name."
"Well it's between--er--that is, it's somewhere near South America, andthe--well, it's down that way. Did this man speaking sound like aforeigner?"
"N--no, not exactly."
"Like an American?"
"Yes,--I think so."
"Explain your hesitation."
"Well," said the girl, desperately, "he sounded like he was trying tosort of disguise his voice,--if you know what I mean."
"I know exactly what you mean. How did you know it was a disguisedvoice?"
"It was sort of high and then sort of low as if making believe somebodyelse."
"You're a very observing young woman. I thought you didn't listen totelephone conversations of your employer."
"Well, I just happened to hear this one. And it was so--so queer, I kindof kept on listenin' for a few minutes."
"It may be fortunate that you did, as your report is interesting. Now,can you remember any more, any other words or sentences?"
"No sir. There was a little more but I didn't catch it. They seemed toknow what they was talkin' about, but most anybody else wouldn't. But I'mdead sure about the puffumery and the Sea."
"Those are certainly queer words to connect with this case. But maybe themessage you tell of was not the one that called Mr. Trowbridge to thePark."
"Maybe not, sir."
"It might have been a friend warning him of the trap set for him, andurging him to go south to escape it."
"Maybe sir."
"These things must be carefully looked into. We must get the number ofthe telephone call and trace it."
"Can't be done," said Detective Groot, who being a taciturn man listenedcarefully and said little. "I've tried too many times to trace a call tohold out any hopes of this. If it came from a big exchange it might bebarely possible to trace it; but if from a private wire or a publicbooth, or from lots of such places you'll never find it. Never in theworld."
"Is it then so difficult to trace a telephone call?" asked one of thejury. "I didn't know it."
"Yes, sir," repeated Groot. "Why there was a big case in New York yearsago, where they made the telephone company trace a call and it cost thecompany thousands of dollars. After that they tore up their slips. Butthen again, you might _happen_ to find out what you want. But not at alllikely, no, not a bit likely."
Avice looked at the speaker thoughtfully. The night before she had askedthe number of a call and received it at once. But, she remembered, sheasked a few moments after the call was made, and of the same operator.Her thoughts wandered back to that call made by Eleanor Black, and againshe felt that impression of something sly about the woman. And to think,she had the number of th
at call, and could easily find out who itsummoned. But all such things must wait till this investigation of thepresent was over. She looked at Mrs. Black.
The handsome widow wore her usual sphinx-like expression and she wasgazing steadily at Kane Landon. Avice thought she detected a look in thedark eyes as of a special, even intimate interest in the young man. Shehad no reason to think they were acquaintances, yet she couldn't helpthinking they appeared so. At any rate, Eleanor Black was paying littleor no attention to the proceedings of the inquest. But Avice rememberedshe had expressed a distaste and aversion to detectives and all theirworks. Surely, the girl thought, she could not have cared very much forUncle Rowly, if she doesn't feel most intense interest in running themurderer to ground.
She turned again toward the coroner to hear him saying:
"And then, Miss Wilkinson, after this mysterious message, did Mr.Trowbridge leave the office at once?"
"Yes sir. Grabbed his hat and scooted right off. Said he wouldn't be backall afternoon."
"And you did not recognize the voice as any that you had ever heard?"
"No, sir."
"And you gathered nothing from the conversation that gave you any hint ofwho the speaker might be?"
Whether it was the sharp eye of Mr. Berg compelling her, or a latentregard for the truth, the yellow-haired girl, for some reason, stammeredout, "Well, sir, whoever it was, called Mr. Trowbridge 'uncle.'"
Again one of those silences that seemed to shriek aloud in denunciationof the only man present who would be supposed to call Mr. Trowbridge"uncle."
Berg turned toward Kane Landon. For a moment the two looked at eachother, and then the younger man's eyes fell. He seemed for an instant onthe verge of collapse, and then, with an evident effort, drew himself upand faced the assembly.
"You are all convinced that I am the slayer of my uncle," he said almostmusingly; "well, arrest me, then. It is your duty."
His hearers were amazed. Such brazen effrontery could expect no leniency.And too, what loop-hole of escape did the suspect have? Motive,opportunity, circumstantial evidence, all went to prove his guilt. True,no one had seen him do the deed; true, he had not himself confessed thecrime; but how could his guilt be doubted in view of all theincrimination as testified by witnesses?
The coroner hesitated. He was afraid of this strange young man who seemedso daring and yet had an effect of bravado rather than guilt.
"Was it you, Mr. Landon who telephoned to Mr. Trowbridge the message wehave heard reported?"
"It was not."
"Did you telephone your uncle at all yesterday?"
"In the morning, yes. In the afternoon, no."
"Do you know of any one else who could call him uncle?"
"No man, that I know of."
"This was a man speaking, Miss Wilkinson?"
"Yes, sir, I'm sure it was a man. And Mr. Trowbridge called him nephew."
"That means, then, Mr. Landon, that it was you speaking, or some othernephew of Mr. Trowbridge."
"Might not the stenographer have misunderstood the words? The young ladyreports a strange conversation. I would never have dreamed of offering myuncle stephanotis."
"I cannot think any man would. Therefore, I think Miss Wilkinson musthave misunderstood that part of the talk."
A diversion was created just here by the arrival of a messenger fromheadquarters, who brought a possible clue. It was a lead pencil which hadbeen found near the scene of the crime.
"Who found it?" asked the coroner.
"One of the police detectives. He's been scouring ground by daylight, butthis is all he found."
"Ah, doubtless from Mr. Trowbridge's pocket. Do you think it was his,Miss Trowbridge?"
Avice looked at the pencil. "I can't say positively," she replied. "Itvery likely was his. I think it is the make he used."
"Not much of a clue," observed Groot, glancing at the pencil.
"Kin I see it?" asked Fibsy, eagerly. And scarce waiting for permission,he stepped to the coroner's table, and looked carefully at the newexhibit.
"Yep," he said, "it's the make and the number Mr. Trowbridge always hasin the office. Keep it careful, Mr. Berg, maybe there's finger marks onit, and they'll get rubbed off."
"That'll do, McGuire. If you must see everything that's going on, atleast keep quiet."
"No, it's no clue," grumbled Detective Groot. "There _is_ no real clue,no key clue, as you may say. And you have to have that, to get at amystery. This crime shows no brains, no planning. It isn't the work of aneducated mind. That's why it's most likely an Italian thug."
Kane Landon's deep gray eyes turned to the speaker. "Whoever planned thatweird telephone message showed some ingenuity," he said.
"And you did it!" cried the detective, "I meant you to fall into thattrap, and you did. My speech brought it to your mind and you spoke beforeyou thought. Now, what did you mean by it? What about the Caribbean Sea?Were you going to take your uncle off there? Was the trap laid for that?"
"One question at a time," said Landon, with a look that he permitted tobe insolent. "Does it seem to you the sender of that message was gettingmy uncle into a trap, or saving him from one? I believe the young womanreported that the message ran 'He set a trap for you.' Then was it not arescuer telling of it?"
"Don't be too fresh, young man! You can't pull the wool over my eyes! Andthat telephone message isn't needed to settle your case. When a man isfound dead, and with his dying breath tells who killed him, I don't needany further evidence."
"Keep still, Groot," said the coroner. "We've all agreed that those wordsabout Cain, might mean any murderer."
"They might, but they didn't," answered Groot, angrily.
"As Mr. Landon says," spoke up Judge Hoyt, "it may be merely acoincidence that his name is Kane, when his uncle had so recentlystigmatized his assailant as Cain. Surely such questionable evidence mustbe backed up by some incontrovertible facts."
Landon looked at this man curiously. He knew him but slightly. Heremembered him as a friend of his uncle's, but he knew nothing of hisattachment for Avice Trowbridge. Kane noted the fine face, the grave andscholarly brow, and he breathed a sigh of relief to think that the lawyerhad said a kindly word for him. Landon's was a peculiar nature. Reproofor rebuke always antagonized him, but a sympathetic word softened him atonce.
Had Landon but known it, he had another friend present. Harry Pinckney,his college mate, recognized him the moment he entered the room. Then,obeying a sudden impulse, Pinckney drew back behind a pillar that dividedthe two drawing-rooms, as is the fashion of old houses, and had remainedunseen by Landon all the morning. Pinckney himself could scarcely havetold why he did this, but it was due to a feeling that he could not writehis story for his paper with the same freedom of speech if Landon knew ofhis presence. For though he refused to himself to call it by so strong aterm as suspicion, Pinckney felt that the coincidence of Cain and Kanewas too unlikely to be true. Regretting his friend's downfall, Pinckneythought, so far as he had yet discovered, that Landon was the most likelysuspect. And so he did not want to meet him just yet. Later, perhaps, hecould help him in some way or other, but the "story" came first.
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