Find the Woman

by Arthur Somers Roche

  XXVIII

  Clancy was prepared to hear Spofford plead, argue, even threaten. Suchaction would have been quite consistent with his character as sheunderstood it. But to her relief he accepted the situation. He rosestiffly from the chair.

  "Well, I'll be moseyin' along. I'm gonna look into a coupla leads thatmay not mean anything. But y' never can tell in this business. Muchobliged to you, Miss Deane. No hard feelings?"

  "None at all," said Clancy. "I think--why I think it's _wonderful_ ofyou, Mr. Spofford, to be so--so friendly!"

  Spofford blushed. It was probably the first time that a woman hadbrought the color to his cheeks--in anything save anger--for many years.

  "Aw, now--why, Miss Deane--you know I--glad to meetcha," stammeredSpofford. He made a stumbling, confused, and extremely light-hearteddeparture from the house. Somehow, he felt deeply obligated to ClancyDeane.

  The door closed behind him, and Clancy sat down once again upon thestairs. She felt safe at last. Now that the danger was past, she did notknow whether to laugh or cry. Was it past? Before yielding to eitheremotional impulse, why not analyze the situation? What had Spoffordsaid? That until the murderer was captured, she would always beapprehensive. Until the murderer was caught----

  She tapped her foot upon the lower stair. There was no questioningSpofford's sincerity. He did not believe her guilty. But---- Thetelephone-bell rang. It was Sally Henderson.

  "Miss Deane?... Oh, is this you? This is Miss Henderson. Man namedRandall telephoned a few minutes ago. Very urgent, he said. I don't likegiving out telephone-numbers. Thought I'd call you. Want to talk withhim?"

  Like a flash Clancy replied,

  "No."

  No pique inspired her reply. Randall had not measured up. That thestandard of measurement she applied was tremendously high made nodifference to Clancy, abated no whit her judgment.

  A week ago, she had met Randall. She had thought him kind. She had likedhim. She had even debated within herself the advisability, thepossibility of yielding to his evident regard. More than that, she hadpractically offered to marry him. And he had been cautious, had notleaped at the opportunity that, for one golden moment, had been his.Clancy did not phrase it exactly this way, but her failure to do so wasnot due to modesty. For never a woman walked to the altar but believed,in her heart of hearts, that she was giving infinitely more than shereceived.

  "Probably," said Clancy, half aloud, "he's found out that the Walbroughsare still with me, and that Philip Vandervent isn't afraid of me----"

  She thought of Vandervent's flowers, and the card that had accompaniedthem.

  "What did you say?" demanded Sally Henderson. Clancy blushed furiously.She realized that she'd been holding on to the receiver. "I thoughtthat you said something about Judge Walbrough."

  "Lines must have been crossed," suggested Clancy.

  "Rotten telephone service," said Miss Henderson. "Oh, and another man!"

  Clancy felt pleasurably excited. Philip Vandervent----

  "I didn't see him. Guernsey told him where you were. Guernsey is an ass!As if you'd have a brother almost fifty."

  "What? I haven't any brother," cried Clancy.

  "Lucky girl. When they weren't borrowing your money, they'd be gettingyou to help them out of scrapes or mind your sister-in-law's babies.Sorry. If you're frightened----"

  "'Frightened?' Why?" demanded Clancy.

  "Well, Guernsey told him where you were, and the man left hereapparently headed for you."

  Clancy's forehead wrinkled.

  "What did he look like?" she asked.

  "Oh, Guernsey couldn't describe him very well. Said he wore a mustachethat looked dyed, and was short and stocky. That's all."

  "Some mistake," said Clancy.

  "Perhaps," said Miss Henderson dryly. "Anyway, you needn't let him in.Might be somebody from Zenith who wanted to borrow money."

  "Probably," said Clancy.

  "Getting ahead with the work?"

  "Checking up the inventory now," said Clancy.

  "All right; take your time."

  And Miss Henderson hung up.

  Once again, Clancy sat upon the stairs. Spofford had distinctly saidthat one of his men had followed Clancy down to this house. Thedescription that Guernsey had given fitted Spofford exactly.

  Spofford, then, not one of his men, had trailed Clancy down here. Whydid he lie? Also, he must have known quite clearly who were theoccupants of this house. Why had he expressed a certain surprise whenClancy had told him? He had said that, while he had been waitingoutside, Garland had come out. But why had Spofford been waitingoutside? Why hadn't he come right up and rung the door-bell? Could thisdelay have been because he knew that Garland was inside the house, andbecause he did not wish to encounter him? But how could he have knownthat Garland was inside with Carey? Well, that was easily answered. Hemight have arrived just as Garland was entering the house.

  But there were other puzzling matters. Why had Spofford been so long inrecollecting that Don Carey had roused the suspicions of the policebecause of the office he had maintained in the Heberworth Building?Apparently, it had only occurred to him at the end of his rather longconversation with Clancy.

  Hadn't Spofford been a little too ingenuous? Could it be that he hadsome slight suspicion of Don Carey? As a matter of fact, looking at thematter as dispassionately as she could, hadn't Spofford dropped a strongcircumstantial case against Clancy Deane on rather slight cause? Againstthe evidence of her presence in Beiner's office and her flight from theNapoli, Spofford had pitted his own alleged knowledge of human nature.Because Clancy had delayed flight until Wednesday, Spofford had decidedthat she was innocent. She didn't believe it.

  It had all been convincing when Spofford had said it. But now, in viewof the fact that she had detected in his apparent sincerity one untruth,she wondered how many others there might be.

  Would fear of the Vandervent and Walbrough influence cause him to dropthe trail of a woman whom he believed to be a murderess? No, shedecided; it would not. Then why had he dropped the belief in her guiltthat had animated his actions yesterday?

  The answer came clearly to her. Because he felt that he had evidenceagainst some one else. Against Carey? She wondered. If against Carey,why had he gone in search of Clancy at Sally Henderson's office?

  But she could answer that. He wanted to hear her story. Finding that shewas at the very moment in Don Carey's house had been chance,coincidence. He had known that Garland had not come here to see her; hehad known that Garland had come to see Carey. How much did he know? What_was_ there to know?

  Her brain became dizzy. Spofford had certainly not ceased to questionthe Heberworth Building elevator-man when the man had identified Clancy.Spofford had cunning, at the very lowest estimate of his mental ability.He would have cross-examined Garland. The man might have dropped somehint tying up Carey to the murder. She began to feel that Spofford wasnot entirely through with her.

  There was a way, an almost certain way, now, though, to end herconnection with the affair. If she told Philip Vandervent or JudgeWalbrough the threat that she had heard Garland utter, the elevator-manwould be under examination within a few hours.

  Did she want that? Certainly not, just yet. She knew what scandal meant.She doubted if even Sophie Carey, with her apparently unchallengedartistic and social position, could live down the scandal of being thewife of a man accused of murder. She must be fair to Sophie. Indeed, ifshe were to live up to her own code--it was a code that demanded muchbut gave more--she must be more than fair to her. Sophie had gotten herwork, had dressed her up. She did not like being under obligation toMrs. Carey. But, having accepted so much, repayment must be made. Itwould be a shoddy requital of Sophie's generosity for Clancy Deane torun to the police and repeat the threats of a blackmailer.

  How did she know that those threats were founded upon any truth? She hadheard Garland say that Carey had possessed a key to Beiner's office; shehad seen the expression of fright upon Carey's face as Garland m
ade thecharge. But fear didn't necessarily imply guilt. Clancy Deane had been apretty scared young lady several times during the past week, and she wasinnocent. Don Carey might be just as guiltless.

  Of course, Judge Walbrough and his wife had been unbelievably friendly,Vandervent had shown a chivalry that--Clancy sighed slightly--might masksomething more personal. _Noblesse oblige._ But her first obligation wasto Sophie Carey. Until her debts were settled to Sophie she need notconsider the payment of others. Especially if the payment of thoseothers meant betrayal of Sophie. And an accusation against her husbandwas, according to Clancy's lights, no less than that.

  And so she couldn't make it. There was nothing to prevent her, though,from endeavoring to discover whether or not Don Carey were guilty. If hewere--Clancy would pass that bridge when she came to it.

  Meantime, she was supposed to be earning a salary of fifty dollars aweek. A few minutes ago, she had told Sally Henderson that she had begunchecking up the Carey household effects. She had not meant to deceiveher employer. She'd work very hard to make up for the delay that her ownaffairs had caused.

  The Careys' house was not "cluttered up," despite the artistic nature ofits mistress. Clancy, who knew what good housekeeping meant--in Zenith,a dusty room means a soiled soul--pursed her lips with admiration as shepassed from room to room. Two hours she spent, checking Sophie Carey'slist. Then she let herself out of the house, locked the front doorcarefully behind her, and walked over to Sixth Avenue, into therestaurant where she had met Sophie Carey last Thursday morning.

  Only that long ago! It was incredible. Whimsically ordering chickensalad, rolls, tea, and pastry, Clancy considered the past few days. Itwas the first time that she had been able to dwell upon them with anyfeeling of humor. Now, her analysis of Spofford's words, more than thewords themselves, having given her confidence, she looked backward.

  She wondered, had always wondered, exactly what was meant by thestatement that certain people had "lived." She knew that many summervisitors from the great cities looked down upon the natives of Zenithand were not chary of their opinions to the effect that people merelyexisted in Zenith.

  Yet she wondered if any of these supercilious ones had "lived" as muchas had Clancy Deane in the last week. She doubted it. Life, in the_argot_ of the cosmopolitan, meant more than breathing, eating,drinking, and sleeping. It meant experiencing sensation. Well, she hadexperienced a-plenty, as a Zenither would have said.

  From what had meant wealth to her she had dropped to real poverty, to abewilderment as to the source of to-morrow's dinner. From the quiet of acountry town she had been tossed into a moving maze of metropolitanmystery. She, who had envied boys who dared to raid orchards, jealous oftheir fearlessness of pursuing farmers, had defied a police force, thepress----

  And she'd _liked_ it! This was the amazing thing that she discoveredabout herself. Not once could she remember having regretted herambitions that had brought her to New York; not a single time had shewished herself back in Zenith. With scandal, jail, even worse, perhaps,waiting her, she'd not weakened.

  Once only had she been tempted to flee the city, and then she'd not eventhought of going back to Zenith. And she knew perfectly well that hadSpofford failed to visit her this morning, and had some super-personguaranteed her against all molestation if she would but return to herMaine home, she would have refused scornfully.

  Perhaps, she argued with herself, it was too much to say that she'denjoyed these experiences, but--she was glad she'd had them. Lifehereafter might become a monotonous round of renting furnishedapartments and houses; she'd have this week of thrills to look backupon.

  She ate her salad hungrily. Paying her check, she walked to EighthStreet and took the street car to Sally Henderson's office. She learnedthat Judge Walbrough had telephoned once during the forenoon and left amessage--which must have been cryptic to Sally Henderson--to the effectthat he had met the enemy and they were his.

  Clancy assumed that Philip Vandervent had seen Spofford and that the manhad told of his visit to Clancy. She wished that Vandervent hadn't toldthe judge; she'd have liked to surprise him with the news that Spofford,the one person of all the police whom she dreaded, had called off thechase. Oddly, she assumed that the judge and his wife would be asthrilled over anything happening to her as if it had happened tothemselves. This very assumption that people were interested in her,loved her, might have been one of the reasons that they were and did.But it is futile to attempt analysis of charm.

  She spent the afternoon with Miss Conover, the dressmaker. Business wastemporarily slack with Sally Henderson. Until the effects of theblizzard had worn off, not so many persons would go house-hunting. Andthe kindly interior decorator insisted that Clancy yield herself to MissConover's ministrations.

  Clancy had an eye for clothes. Although nothing had been completed, ofcourse, she could tell, even in their unfinished state, that she wasgoing to be dressed as she had never, in Zenith, dreamed. Heaven aloneknew what it would all cost, but what woman cares what clothing cost?Clancy would have starved to obtain these garments. It is fashionable tojibe at the girl who lunches on a chocolate soda in order that she maydine in a silk dress. "She puts everything on her back," her plainsisters say. But understanding persons respect the girl. While marriage,for the mass, remains a market-place, she does well who best displaysthe thing she has for sale.

  It was a delightful afternoon, even though Miss Conover lost her goodnature as her back began to ache from so much bending and kneeling.Clancy went down Fifth Avenue toward the Walbroughs' home walking, noton snow, but on air.

  Philip Vandervent had been attracted to her when he saw her in aborrowed frock. When he beheld her in one that fitted her perfectly,without the adventitious aid of pins---- Her smile was most adorable asshe looked up at the judge, waiting for her at the head of the stairs.Quite naturally she held up her mouth to be kissed. Clancy unconsciouslyknew how to win and retain love. It is not done by kisses alone, butkisses play their delightful part. She had never granted them to youngmen; she had rarely withheld them from dear old men.