The Riddle of the Spinning Wheel

by Thomas W. Hanshew and Mary E. Hanshew

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  THE SECRET OF THE SINGING WHEEL

  The scene that followed this startling announcement can well be imaginedrather than described. For even as the man stood glowering at them, hismouth muttering the curses that his heart held, came a new diversionfrom another quarter. For Catherine Dowd had called out sharply, "Quick!quick! some smelling-salts here--and brandy!" and as the women of theparty endeavoured to produce one item, while the men more successfullyproduced the other, it was seen that Johanna McCall was the object ofthis aid, for she half-lay, half-sprawled upon the floor, mouth open,face twitching, eyes already glazing over, and the white froth formingabout her pale lips.

  Cleek leaned down and lifted her head in his uninjured arm; and lookeddown into her upthrown ghastly face.

  "Gad!" he said under his breath, "and now the other one--self-confessed!Who'd have thought it?--who, indeed? And for what reason, I wonder?"

  "For him--for Ross--for the man I love," the pale lips framed the wordsbrokenly as the strength of the girl sagged and ebbed slowly away. "Hewould have disinherited him--disinherited Ross, turned himout--penniless! Cruel--wicked--I stabbed him with--the stiletto--thelight went out--caught it off the table--wiped it on _her_ dress--musthave been mad--mad--but you can't get me. It's poison--arsenic. I had itready. And I needn't have done it--after all!"

  Then she sighed a little, opened her eyes suddenly and closed themagain, and then slumped forward in Cleek's arms--dead.

  Cleek caught at a cushion, pushed it under the sagging head, slipped hisown arm out from under it, and got slowly to his feet. His face waspale, his lips set.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," he said quietly, pointing a hand at the stillfigure, so pitifully small and childlike, huddled together upon thefloor, "the other--murderer. Poor, misguided little creature! Of suchfolly can Love only be held to blame. A hopeless passion, a breakingheart, a suddenly maddening resolution made and carried out in a red-hotmoment, and--another soul gone to meet its Maker with the red blot ofdeath upon it. Tragic, is it not?... Lady Paula, take a seat. There isso much more to tell, and this has slightly precipitated matters.Tavish, my friend, you will do better not to glower and struggle likethat. The Law has you, and _the Law will make you pay_--in spite of allyour efforts to fix the blame upon someone else. I think, my friends, ifwe might adjourn to the drawing-room, the rest of the riddle would makeeasier and better telling. It is hardly fitting--here and now."

  "You're right, Mr. Deland, perfectly right," threw in Ross at thisjuncture, jumping to his feet and catching his fiancee by the arm."Come, all of you. Out of this room and into the next. I want to hearthe end of the tangle, Mr. Deland, and find exactly how you implicated_me_."

  Cleek looked up suddenly with a slight smile.

  "Not Deland, my friend, just Cleek--Cleek of Scotland Yard, at yourservice," he made reply smoothly, smiling at the amazed faces whichgreeted this statement. "So you see, Tavish, you had greater oddsagainst you than you knew. We'll have your other prisoner, please,Constable. The worthy Antoni Matei shall tell us something before theday is out. Of that I am certain. And I have promised him a good pricefor his loose tongue. Tavish, never trust a lying comrade. This is thefriend who saw you through--and then split afterward upon you. Choosebirds of another colour next time you practise such tricks--only, I'mafraid it is a trifle late to start new methods--_now_."

  Speaking, he passed out of that tragic room, waving his hand with agesture which was almost theatrical to the others to follow him, andwhen they were all assembled around him in the drawing-room, went onwith his amazing story.

  * * * * *

  "You want to hear the whole story from start to finish? Well, it willmake long telling, I'm afraid," he said, as Maud Duggan put thequestion, glancing a trifle anxiously at the slumped figure of theItalian which stood manacled between two burly constables, waiting histurn to speak up and tell what he knew. "To begin with, I must confess Iwas a little mistaken in my calculations. _To begin with._Circumstantial evidence does not always prove guilt, Miss Duggan,although it's generally a good pointer in a broad way. And your brotherhad many pieces of evidence against him. That bit of red flexibleelectric wire, you know, that I picked up in the library that first dayyou showed me around. I admit I thought it belonged to him, particularlywhen young Cyril here told such an excellent story of how Sir Ross (Imust give you your proper title, you know!) wired the room temporarily,just to show James Tavish how it could be done. But it didn't, you see.That fragment was found in Tavish's own bedroom. Then, when I went downinto the dungeons, I discovered--something else."

  His hand dived into his pocket and brought forth a crumpledhandkerchief, slightly bloodstained, and handed it to her. "Can youidentify that?"

  She looked up, startled.

  "Of course. It's yours, Ross, isn't it? See, here are your initials. Andyet you found it down there--with something else, Mr.--Cleek?"

  "I certainly did, my dear young lady. With a syphon of soda, a tumblerand a bottle that smelt of very good raw whisky. Rather strong for _my_liking, but still--we'll let that pass for the present. I'll havesomething to say about that later which may interest you, Mr. Narkom. Ifound it there--and, as you say, I found something else, too. And when Isaw the initials I naturally thought of your brother--which just goes toprove that human nature is apt to make mistakes, even when it thinksitself pretty expert upon certain subjects. As a matter of fact, MissMcCall had borrowed that handkerchief--she supervises the laundering,you told me, Miss Duggan--for James Tavish when he cut his finger, andhe had never given it back, obviously. When I discovered that, that wasthe first pointer in his direction. The others followed fairlyrapidly.... Then the air-pistol, you know. You yourself told me yourbrother had one--and then regretted the telling afterward, like everyloving and foolish woman who wants to preserve her kin from possibleblame, even in the face of her own suspicions. That was Number Twoagainst him. Number Three came from this young lady here--Miss Dowd--whobrought me the stiletto that had been used to stab your poor father, andadmitted, strictly against all her scruples, that, as far as she knew,it had been last used by Sir Ross to cut the edges of a book uponPoisons which he had been reading. I don't much admire your taste inliterature, Sir Ross, but that is hardly to do with me. A man can choosehis own companions and his own library, thank God, although Life itselfchooses almost everything else for him. But I must confess that thespinning wheel got me guessing, as our American cousins say. I've Mr.Narkom to thank for that discovery. And he made it in rather aremarkable way. Leaned against the wheel and experienced a slight shock.After that, the thing was as easy as A. B. C. We simply traced thewiring to the window-sill, where we discovered a switch hidden in theivy, turned it on, and--there you were! I nearly got potted by thedevilish contrivance myself, only some sixth sense told me to get out ofthe way in time. But the aim was amazingly accurate. The second bulletfell a matter of half an inch below the first. A perfect marvel ofingenuity, contrived by a man who had obviously made electricity hisstudy for years--in spite of his confessed ignorance of it. Worked outto a nicety. The failing lights were his idea also, and quite simple tomanage, really. The drumming dynamo made a very good imitation of the'singing of the wheel,' in accordance with the old story. And a lessenlightened household than yours, Sir Ross, might have put all sorts ofconstructions upon that--except, of course, the right one.... That, myfriends, was how the diabolical thing was done."

  For a moment a silence held, fraught with mute astonishment; thenexclamations of amazement fell from every one of that little company,and Ross Duggan was just about to speak when Lady Paula broke hurriedlyin.

  "And my brother?--my poor unfortunate brother?" cried she in a wrungvoice. "He had no share in the crime, I'll swear it, Mr. Cleek. Evenyour magic cannot prove that."

  "Not in the crime actually, Lady Paula, but in--other things," hereplied a trifle grimly, glancing again at the flushed face of theprisoner. "For as a blackmailer I fancy he is somethi
ng of an artist.That fact you already know--to your cost, I fancy. And I think I'm notwrong in saying that it was he who suggested to you the stealing of thewill and----"

  "I begged him not to, Mr. Cleek! I implored. I did-- I swear it. And Inever stole the will, that I can promise!" she broke in distractedly,beating her hands together. "Antoni suggested--yes--he wished to destroyit, so that my share of the estate might be greater as widow than thatwhich had been apportioned to me, and of course he would have a portionof that, too. But I implored him not--that is true, is it not, Antoni?You can answer to that? I begged you, and you promised! And hethreatened me even with exposure if I did not agree to the preposterousidea! I complied, only upon the promise that it should not be destroyed.But who took it I do not know."

  "But I think I can pretty well guess," responded Cleek serenely, with aquick look at Cyril's suddenly flushed face. "Your son, Lady Paula, hasmuch of his uncle's blood in his veins. And he acted, no doubt, upon_forceful_ advice, and carried the thing through quite successfully.Perhaps he will tell us just when he decided to steal his own father'swill--at the instigation of an unscrupulous relation."

  Came a slight pause in the telling, meanwhile a startled exclamationbroke from Ross Duggan's lips, while every eye in that little assemblyfastened upon the unfortunate boy. He broke into quiet sobbing, dartinghis eyes here and there for possible sympathy.

  "Yes, I took it, sir--when Uncle Antoni told me," he broke out betweensobs. "It was--just after it had happened. I heard Mother's scream, andthen she ran into my room and told me of--the dreadful thing that hadhappened! About half an hour afterward Uncle Antoni appeared at thebalcony which opens out from my bedroom window, and told me I must stealthe will for him. I was terrified--oh, I was!--but he threatened mewith--with a pistol----"

  "That's a lie!" gave out the prisoner with a maledictory eye upon hisunfilial nephew.

  "It isn't--it isn't! You told me to get it--just how to get it. That itwas lying upon the table-top; and so I slipped down in my stockingedfeet, and waited in the passage until I saw Ross slip out of the roomafter everyone else had gone back to bed, and--and _you_ had come out,Mr. Cleek, and were talking to Maud in the ante-room. So I crept intothe room--oh, it was dreadful, with Father lying there--likethat--snatched it up and fled back to my bedroom in terror. Uncle Antoniwas still waiting on the balcony, and when he got it he climbed down thebalustrade again and--and--that is all I know. Oh, I wish--I wish I'dnever had anything to do with it!"

  Cleek nodded.

  "I'm sure you do," he said quietly. "So it was really not your fault,Cyril. You acted under considerable pressure. That I'll admit. But itmight have been better if you had confided in--someone else after thedeed was done. It would have helped clear up the mystery sooner, at anyrate. But that cannot be helped now. To proceed with the story. Here, bythe way, is the missing will, Lady Paula. I found it muffling theclapper of Rhea's bell--a very ingenious hiding-place--and in thefinding discovered your--er--worthy brother at the same time. That washow I happened to get hold of him. He gave me a few tips of quite usefulinformation afterward, upon promise of a light sentence, and helped tolead me finally to the true murderer. So we will hold that in hisfavour, at any rate. Sir Ross, I'd prefer you to keep that documentuntil it can be placed in the hands of your family lawyer. We don't wantany more disappearing tricks for the present, do we?"

  "Hardly. Gad! it's amazing, positively extraordinary how you've foundall this out!" threw in that gentleman with deep emphasis. "Pleaseaccept my apologies now for those unforgivable things I said to you, Mr.Cleek. But when a chap's just been practically accused of killing hisown father----"

  "You must expect a little heat. That's all right, my friend. Don'tbother about it further. Only, I was obliged to throw the scent uponsomeone other than the real man--or we'd have lost him. You understandthat, of course?"

  "Certainly. Only tell us how you traced the murder to its proper source,and _why_ James Tavish should have done such a thing."

  "That I will, and in the shortest way possible. But you must let me tellmy story in my own particular manner," replied Cleek, with a slightsmile and a warmth of feeling toward this very impetuous andgenerous-hearted young man. "There's still a good deal to be cleared upbefore you can understand, and I'm afraid some of it won't makeparticularly good hearing. But that I cannot help. Men are frail things,Sir Ross, where temptation is concerned. And when there is a prettywoman in the question ... it's all right, Lady Paula; it all happenedlong before _you_ entered your husband's life, so that there is nothingfor _you_ to forgive--but, as I say, when a pretty woman enters at onedoor, a man's discretion very often flies out at another.

  "I found, among other things yesterday, when I was looking for the willin your father's desk, after having appropriated his keys first, abundle of old love-letters, written upon paper which I ascertained hadbeen bought in the village, and bearing a post-mark which was local, andsigned with the name 'Jeannette.' I confess I did not know just wherethese entered into the case at all, but something told me that they werea big factor. My intuition--policeman's sixth sense--call it what youwill. I looked into the matter, and then discovered, after some probingthrough my man Dollops (who, by the way, Mr. Narkom, deserves highcommendation in this case), that they were actually written by JamesTavish's sister, Jeannette, and that--to put it baldly, for which Itrust you will forgive me--that your father had been carrying on asecret liaison with this girl for some years, upon promise of marriage,and had, in fact, got her into very unfortunate trouble."

  "But he never married her--he married _me_-- I am his legal wife, Iswear that!" struck in Lady Paula, in a high-pitched, terrified voice."I knew nothing of this woman at all--everything in our marriage was inorder----"

  "Of that there is not the smallest doubt, Lady Paula," returned Cleekgravely. "I said only 'under _promise_ of marriage.' That is where manis unfortunately so unfaithful. He merely left her to bear her troublealone--after, of course, providing for her and the possible issue oftheir unhappy union--and, being a faithful woman, it broke her heart,and both she and her child died as a consequence of this neglect. Whenthe wish to live is gone, there is little else to bind one to this earthat such times, my friends, and so she and her unwanted little one passedout to a happier realm. Much of this I have gleaned from those sameletters; much I have deduced in the natural course of events. The finalclue was discovered in James Tavish's own room, where this photograph,bearing the date of her death and that of her child, and having one wordwritten across the face of it, was discovered in a box on hisdressing-table."

  He handed the piece of pictured pasteboard across to each of them inturn, watching their faces to see the effect of it upon themindividually. Mute astonishment, dull grief showed in Ross and MaudDuggan's eyes as they looked upon it. It was as though they haddiscovered suddenly that their idol had feet of clay. For across thefront of the pictured face was written one word in heavy black scrawl,and the word was "_Avenged!_"