CHAPTER XII
Wise and Zizi
"Well, Julie, my little girl, the jig is up."
Thorpe spoke despairingly, and Julie knew only too well what he meant.
"They're--they're going----"
"Yes, they're going to arrest me. This is the last call I can pay you."
Julie didn't break down and cry, nor indeed did she show great emotionof any sort. She set her curved red lips firmly and said, with an air ofdetermination:
"I'm not sure, Mac, that it isn't better so. I mean now we've somethingdefinite to work against. Father's going to get that Mr. Wise, and he'llsoon get you out of--out of--oh, Mac, will they put you in prison? In acell?"
"Yes, dear, until the trial. You see, that little bottle did it for me."
"And somebody put that in your old paint-box! Who did it, Mac?"
"Hastings is the only one I can think of. That man never liked me-- Idon't know why, but he never did. And he adored Gilbert----"
"You don't think he killed Gilbert, then?"
"Oh, Lord, no! He was always fond of him. But he wants to get me in bad,and so I think he planted that bottle. It must have been planted, Julie,I never put it there. I never had it in my possession."
"Who did kill Gilbert?"
"I've no idea, but I don't think it was anybody we know. I'm inclined tothe belief that it was some enemy, of long standing. You know GilbertBlair's past life was by no means an open book to his friends. He hadturned-down pages that we never knew about or inquired into. It wouldnot have been impossible for some one to get into his room in thenight----"
"And give him poison? Not likely!"
"But it must have been something of the sort, Julie. Blair never killedhimself."
"No, I suppose not. Oh, Mac, how unfortunate that you and he quarreledso much. Otherwise they wouldn't have suspected you at all."
"Yes, they would. It's opportunity they consider, exclusiveopportunity."
"And that empty bottle! I should think they'd see that's a plant!"
"They don't see anything an inch away from their noses! I'm the nearestsuspect to hang a charge on, so they choose me."
Thorpe wasn't pettish, but he was discouraged and unstrung. He knew thathis arrest, which was imminent, was, in part, due to the assertions ofthe medium and the Ouija Board. These secrets had leaked out somehow,and though the detective, Weston, would have scorned to acknowledge it,he had been more or less biased in his estimates of other evidence bywhat he had heard of supernatural communications.
But of this Thorpe hesitated to speak to Julie. For it was her fatherwho had brought those things about, and while Thorpe had no use for thewhole mediumistic business, he rarely said so to the Crane family.
And the note that purported to be from Peter, he believed a bare-facedfraud. He couldn't understand it, nor imagine how it had been managed,but he would not believe that it was the work of the dead Peter Crane.
And so, he submitted helplessly to arrest, for there was no way to provehis innocence. He had tried "detective work" on his own account, but itamounted to nothing. The police held that it was an "open and shut"case, and that Thorpe must have been the murderer.
Benjamin Crane, though all unwilling to condemn Thorpe, was, of course,greatly swayed by the supernatural messages, and couldn't help hisbelief in them. But, for Julie's sake, and to give Thorpe every possiblechance, he had engaged Pennington Wise, and had invited him to stay atthe Crane house while conducting his investigation.
So Wise came, and with him came his queer little assistant, the girlcalled Zizi.
There was ample room in the big city house, and the two were treated ashonored guests.
Wise was alert, quick-witted and tactful, but Zizi was even more so. Shemade friends with the Cranes at once, and they all admired the odd,fascinating girl. Small of stature, dark of coloring, Zizi was notunlike a gypsy, and the mention of this brought about the tale of thegypsy's prophecy regarding Peter Boots.
"What an interesting story," the girl said, after hearing Benjamin Cranetell it. "It is wonderful how you dear people bear your loss sobravely."
"But it isn't really a loss," said Mrs. Crane, "you see, we have our boywith us continually."
It was only by desperate effort that Zizi kept from laughing, for of allfads or whims, spiritism seemed to her the worst and most foolish. Butshe was there on business, and part of her business was to gather allthe information she could regarding this same spiritism, so she showedonly deep interest and apparent sympathy with their beliefs.
"You do believe in these things, don't you?" Mrs. Crane asked, and,being thus confronted, Zizi had to answer directly.
"It's hard to say," she replied, "for, you see, I've had so little realexperience. Practically none. But I'm eager to learn, and mostinterested in what you tell me."
"I'm a frank unbeliever," declared Pennington Wise. He had consideredthe matter and concluded it was better to state this fact and therebyrouse the others to defense.
"You wouldn't be, Mr. Wise," Benjamin Crane said, "if you'd had theexperiences we're continually enjoying. You've read my book?"
"Yes, Mr. Crane, and an able, well written work it is. But you mustnumber some among your friends who find difficulty in accepting it injust the way you do."
"Certainly, and though I do what I can to convince them, I think nonethe less of them for their honest unbelief. But with you right here inthe house, Mr. Wise, it will, I'm sure, be an easy matter to make aconvert of you."
"We'll see; at any rate, I'm ready to be converted if you can do it.Now, let's begin with that note your daughter received from--ah, shall Isay from your son?"
"Of course, it was from my son. You may compare the writing with Peter'sown--we've lots of his letters, and I think you'll be convinced it's noforgery."
"And it doesn't seem illogical to you," Wise went on, as he took thepapers Crane handed to him, "that your son should materialize thispaper, this note, and leave it for you, when, if he can do such things,he doesn't write a letter to his mother or to you?"
"From the average mortal's point of view there is much that seemsillogical in spiritism," Crane said, easily, as if quite accustomed toanswering such arguments; "we who believe, never question why or whynot. We merely accept."
"Yes," said Mrs. Crane, "and when we are granted such wonderful boons aswe are, it seems ungrateful and ungracious to ask for anything we do notget. When I hear my son's voice----"
"Do you recognize his voice?" asked Zizi.
"I can hardly say that, my dear, but we have heard Peter talk so often,through the medium, that it almost _seems_ like his voice."
"And he told you that Mr. Thorpe was responsible for Mr. Blair's death?"Zizi went on, wanting a plain statement.
"Yes, he told us that."
"Then how can you have any doubt of it?"
"Spirits do not know everything. It is quite as likely for them to bemisinformed as for earthly people to be. It may be that my boy doesn'tknow who killed Gilbert Blair, but has some reason to think it was Mr.Thorpe."
"Do you think it was?"
"I can't say that," Mrs. Crane looked very serious, "nor can I deny it.We are all so fond of Mr. Thorpe that we can scarcely bring ourselves tobelieve ill of him----"
"But if he is a criminal, we want to know it," her husband interruptedher. "Mr. Thorpe is engaged to my daughter, and if he is an innocentman, I want it made clear to the world. If not, then, of course, theengagement must be broken."
"He _is_ an innocent man," Zizi said, quietly.
"Oh, you darling!" cried Julie, running across the room to embrace her."How do you know?"
"By that letter," and Zizi pointed to the note from Peter, which she hadbeen scrutinizing and comparing with some old letters of Peter's.
"You think it isn't from my brother?"
"I know it isn't. I've made a study of handwriting, and whoever wrotethat wrote it in imitation of your brother's writing. I mean the writerwas disguising his own hand and imitat
ing your brother's."
"How can you tell? They are very much alike."
"That's just it. The salient points are imitated, the long terminalstrokes, the peculiarities of the capitals, but the less conspicuousdetails, such as slant and spacing, are not so carefully copied. It is aforgery, and though well done enough to deceive the average observer, itwould not deceive an expert."
"What a lot you know!" and Julie looked at the other girl in surprisedadmiration.
"'Course I do. It's my business to know things. Am I right about this,Penny Wise?"
"Yes," he said, smiling at her. "I thought you'd see it. Moreover, Mr.Crane, this note was written by a man, or by a person capable of deep,even venomous hatred. If, as may well be the case, it was written bythe murderer of Mr. Blair, and with an intent to throw suspicion on Mr.Thorpe, then we must look for a criminal of great cleverness and ofpatience and perseverance in the workings of his nefarious plans. I meana nature of inborn evil, capable of premeditated wrong. This murder ofGilbert Blair was no impulsive or suddenly brought about job. It wascarefully planned and carefully carried out. If you will show me some ofMr. Thorpe's writing I will tell you if he forged this note."
"No, he did not," Wise asserted, after a study of a letter of Thorpe's,which they gave him; "we cannot say this note signed with your son'sname was written by the criminal we're looking for, but we can be sureit was not written by McClellan Thorpe. You see, Mr. Crane, penmanshipis a very exact science. Some one forged your son's writing, but he orshe was utterly unable to omit the personal characteristics that are inevery one's hand."
"And you can deduce character even from a forged hand?"
"Absolutely. It is those inevitable and unmistakable signs that make theindividual writing a true mirror of character."
"But it is often impossible to determine the sex of a writer," Ziziinformed them. "Frequently, to be sure, penmanship is undoubtedly thatof a man or a woman, but sometimes it is not definitely evident. Inthis case, I think we have the work of a man, but I can't be sure."
"Who would do it, anyway?" queried Mrs. Crane.
"Any one interested in concealing the identity of the murderer anddesiring to have Mr. Thorpe suspected. A clever person, because, knowingof Miss Crane's love of her brother and also knowing of your interest inthe occult, it would doubtless seem to you a strong bit of evidence."
"It did," Benjamin Crane admitted, "at least, until you proved to usthat it is not a note from my son at all. But you must remember, Mr.Wise, that we are in no way doubting my son's communications with us inother ways. If this is not from him, that does not cast doubt on othercommunications we have had from him. And, as he has repeatedly told usthat Mr. Thorpe is responsible for Blair's death, I can only say that myboy may be mistaken, and I sincerely hope he is."
"Of course, he is," Julie cried. "Peter has sent us other messages thatturned out to be untrue, but he was mistaken."
"You believe in the mediums, then?" asked Zizi, flashing her big darkeyes at the girl.
"Oh, I don't know. I didn't at first, and I was unwilling to, but I'veheard so much and seen so much, and, of course, I can't help beinginfluenced by Dad and Mother."
"Of course not," agreed Zizi. "It's all so interesting to me. I'm onlyafraid I'll become so absorbed in the spirits that I'll neglect thedetective work."
"It may be they're interdependent," Wise observed.
"They are, I'm sure," said Julie. "You see, Mr. Wise, it's not onlyfather and the medium that have told us things against Mr. Thorpe, butwe have a friend who is an expert on the Ouija Board----"
Zizi rolled her eyes skyward.
"Oh," she groaned, "I thought you people were real honest-to-goodnessSpiritists!"
"We are," defended Crane.
"Not if you fool with an Ouija Board!"
"But Carly, Miss Harper, can make it tell wonderful things," Julie wenton, "things of which she really knows nothing."
"But the other person at the Board knows them?"
"Well, maybe; but they can't get Ouija to tell them without Miss Harperhas her fingers on, too."
"And Ouija is against Mr. Thorpe?"
"Yes; at least it has said he was guilty, but, as you say, an OuijaBoard means nothing."
"It means something, indeed, but not the thing it says."
"A brilliant remark, Zizi!" Wise smiled at her.
"But I mean just that, Penny. I'm getting a line on this thing, and Ithink that the criminal or the criminal's friends or accomplices areutilizing occult forces in their own behalf. I think, Miss Crane, themore messages you get telling you of Mr. Thorpe's guilt the more youmay believe in his innocence!"
"Look out, Ziz, don't go too fast," Wise counseled her. "You've onlybegun this thing--there's a lot yet to be learned."
"I'll learn it, and I'm sure I'm headed in the right direction. And I'dlike very much to see this Miss Harper. The Ouija witch! Has she toldyou to suspect Mr. Thorpe?"
"Don't put it that way," Julie begged. "Miss Harper is my dearestfriend, and whatever she does with the Ouija Board is absolutely honeston her part, absolutely free from deceit."
"Then she's a unique case," declared Zizi. "Never has such a thing beenknown to science." Her smile robbed the words of invidious intent, andthough Julie stood up for Carlotta's innocence, she had always wonderedwhether there was not some involuntary, even unconscious helping alongdone to the little board.
"Let's go to see her now," she suggested, and Wise agreeing, the twogirls started off.
* * * * *
"This is Miss----?" Julie looked inquiringly at the girl she was aboutto introduce to Carlotta, remembering she didn't know her last name.
"Just Zizi," was the smiling reply, and the slim little dark hand washeld out in greeting. "I'm so glad to know you, Miss Harper. For, thoughI admit I don't believe in Ouija, I am interested, and Miss Crane tellsme you never 'push'."
"No, I never do that," Carlotta smiled, "but don't think I believe inthe thing, for I don't at all. It amuses me, and it puzzled me, atfirst, but now I understand it, and it's beginning to lose interest forme."
"Understand it?" Zizi looked bewildered. "You mean----"
"I mean I know what makes it work, why it tells the truth, when it doestell the truth, and why it fibs when it does fib."
Carly Harper's face was frank and honest; she had no effect of mysteryor clairvoyant power, and Zizi was bewildered.
"I am indeed glad to know you!" she exclaimed, "will you impart thisknowledge to me, or is it a secret?"
"It's not a secret, perhaps it isn't knowledge, it's, after all, only myown theory, or rather, discovery, based on long and wide experience."
Zizi was enchanted.
"Oh, goody!" she cried, her black eyes dancing. "I'm crazy to know justwhat you mean! Will you give me a session with the board?"
"Will you promise not to push?"
"Of course, and, anyway, you'd know it if I did."
So Carly got the board, and the two sat at it, while Julie looked on.
The usual routine followed, and at last the professed spirit of PeterCrane was "present."
On being asked if Thorpe killed Gilbert Blair, the Ouija Board promptlyreplied "No."
"Oh, Peter, the other day you said he did!" Carlotta exclaimed, butagain the Board flew to the corner where "No" was printed.
Julie, watching closely, was sure neither of the girls in any waycheated or helped things along. She was an acute observer, and she wascertain both the manipulators were strictly sincere.
"Well, then," Zizi said, her thin, dark fingers merely touching thelittle wooden heart, "who did?"
There was no reply. Motionless the board remained, and no persuasionwould induce it to move.
Other subjects were brought up, questions were asked to which onlyCarlotta knew the answer, or to which only Zizi did, and they wereanswered, if not always definitely, at least in a general way. But whenthey returned to the question about Blair there was no respo
nse.
"Don't you know?" Carlotta demanded of Peter's "spirit," whichobligingly announced its presence when requested.
But the board remained stationary, and they finally gave it up.
"All of which goes to prove my theory the true one," Carlotta declared,and then Zizi begged her to disclose her discoveries.
"Why, you see, it's this way," Carlotta began, "you get out of theOuija Board exactly what you bring to it, no more, no less."
"Just what do you mean by that?"
"That nobody gets any information from the board unless it is already inhis mind. When we ask questions, to which one of us knows the answer,that answer comes. Mind you, I don't mean that one of us pushes theboard in the right direction, at least not consciously, but it isinevitable that the mind leaps ahead, and when a word is started weknow, usually, what letter is coming next, and we receptively await it.You see, unless you hold your hands still purposely, the board is boundto move. Naturally it goes to the words you have in mind, and unless youpurposely check it, the message is bound to come. If it is something Iknow and you don't, the board starts off, and as the words form, youdon't stop them nor do I, yet we don't really force them, it's more asif we thought on the board. This is proved, to my mind, by the fact thatif either party knows the answer, it always comes; if neither knows it,you can't get it. Usually the message is something that can't beverified anyway, and often the message is untrue. But people notice andremember the few times the truth is told, and quickly forget the othertimes. In no case are they messages from the dead. It is not Peter'sspirit talking to us at all. It is merely our minds, subconsciously ornot, that impel involuntary muscular action in the slightest degree, andour eagerness to get a certain word or phrase, brings it about.Tradition and habit ascribe the messages to the dead, and the universaldesire to get such communications is responsible for the belief thatthey are such. Now, here's proof. Whenever I have asked the Board whokilled Gilbert it has responded with the name of the person whom mycompanion thought guilty. I have no idea who is the criminal, neither, Itake it, has Zizi; consequently, as we are both open-minded and waitingfor the answer, we get nothing."
"Right," and Zizi nodded her head. "People fool themselves intobelieving they get information from Ouija. But, if they were honest,they would have to admit that never has it told a truth that was notknown to at least one person present. Of course, I except coincidences,which must happen occasionally."
"But," objected Julie, "then why will it work so much better when Carlyhas her hands on?"
"Just because I'm impassive," Carlotta said, "and sit quietly while theother one gets the message she wants. Without effort the message desiredcomes, merely because nobody stops it."
"Then," said Julie, "none of the help we get from Ouija means anythingat all?"
"No, and it isn't help," said Zizi.
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