The Man Who Fell Through the Earth

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER V Olive Raynor

  I did see Miss Olive Raynor the next day, but not in the surroundings ofher own home as I had expected.

  For I received a rather peremptory summons to present myself at policeheadquarters at a shockingly early hour, and not long after my arrivalthere, Miss Raynor appeared also.

  The police had spent a busy night, and had unearthed more or lessevidence and had collected quite a cloud of witnesses.

  Chief of Police Martin conducted the inquiry, and I soon found that mystory was considered of utmost importance, and that I was expected torelate it to the minutest details.

  This I did, patiently answering repeated questions and asseveratingfacts.

  But I could give no hint as to the identity, or even as to the appearanceof the man who quarreled with Mr. Gately. I could, and did say that heseemed to be a burly figure, or, at least, the shadow showed a largeframe and broad shoulders.

  "Had he a hat on?" asked the Chief.

  "No; and I should say he had either a large head or thick, bushy hair,for the shadow showed that much."

  "Did you not see his face in profile?"

  "If so, it was only momentarily, and the clouded glass of the door, inirregular waves, entirely prevented a clear-cut profile view."

  "And after the two men rose, they disappeared at once?"

  "They wrestled;--it seemed, I should say, that Mr. Gately was grabbed bythe other man, and tried to make a getaway, whereupon the other man shothim."

  "Are you quite sure, Mr. Brice," and the Chief fixed me with his sharpblue eye, "that you are not reconstructing this affair in the light ofthe later discovery of Mr. Gately's fate?"

  I thought this over carefully before replying, and then said: "It's quitepossible I may have unconsciously done so. But I distinctly saw the twofigures come together in a desperate struggle, then disappear, doubtlessinto the third room, and then I heard the shot. That is all I can statepositively."

  "You, then, went right across the hall and tried to enter?"

  "Yes; tried to enter at the middle door, where I had seen the men."

  "And next?"

  "Finding that door fastened, I tried the third, because the men hadseemed to disappear in that direction."

  "The third room was also locked?"

  "Yes; or at least the door would not open from the outside. Then I wentback to the door number one."

  "And that opened at once?"

  "Yes; had I tried that first, I should probably have seen the men,--orthe girl, Jenny."

  "Perhaps. Could you recognize the head of the visitor if you should seeit again shadowed on the door?"

  "I am not sure, but I doubt if I could. I could tell if it were a verydifferent type of head, but if merely similar, I could not swear it wasthe same man."

  "H'm. We must make the experiment. At least it may give us a hint in theright direction."

  He questioned me further as to my knowledge of Mr. Gately and hisaffairs, but when he found I knew almost nothing of those and had been atenant of the Puritan Building but a very short time he suddenly lostinterest in me and turned his attention to Miss Raynor.

  Olive Raynor had come alone and unattended. This surprised me, for I hadimagined the young ladies of the higher social circles never wentanywhere alone. But in many ways Miss Raynor evinced her independence andself-reliance, and I had no doubt a trusted chauffeur waited in her caroutside.

  She was garbed in black, but it was not the heavy crape material that Isupposed all women wore as mourning. A long black velvet cape swathed theslender figure in its voluminous folds, and as this was thrown back, Isaw her gown was of black satin, with thinner black material used incombination. Women's clothes, though a mystery to me, had a sort offascination for my ignorant eyes, and I knew enough to appreciate thatMiss Raynor's costume was correct and very smart.

  Her hat was black, too, smaller than the one I saw her in the day before,and of a quieter type.

  Altogether, she looked very lovely, and her sweet, flower-like face, withits big, pathetic brown eyes, was raised frankly to Chief Martin as sheanswered his questions in a low, clear voice. A slight pallor told of anight of wakefulness and sorrow, but this seemed to accentuate thescarlet of her fine, delicate lips,--a scarlet unacquainted with theassistance of the rouge stick.

  "No," she said, positively, "Mr. Gately had no enemies, I am sure hehadn't! Of course, he may have kept parts of his life or his affairssecret from me, but I have lived with him too long and too familiarly notto know him thoroughly. He was of a simple, straightforward nature, and awise and noble gentleman."

  "Yet you were not entirely fond of your uncle," insinuated the Chief.

  "He was not my uncle," returned Olive, calmly. "I called him that but hewas no relation to me. He used to be a college chum of my father's andwhen both my parents died, he became not only my guardian but my kindfriend and benefactor. He took me to live with him, and I have been hisconstant companion for twelve years. During that time, I have seen noact, have heard no word that could in the slightest way reflect on hishonor or his character as a business man or as a gentleman."

  The girl spoke proudly, as though glad to pay this tribute to herguardian, but still, there was no note of affection in her voice,--noquiver of sorrow at her loss.

  "Yet you are not bowed with grief at his death," observed Martin.

  The dainty chin tilted in indignation. "Mr. Martin," Olive said, "Icannot believe that my personal feelings are of interest to you. Iunderstand I am here to be questioned as to my knowledge of facts bearingon this case."

  The Chief nodded his head. "That's all right," he said, "but I must learnall I can of Mr. Gately's life outside his bank as well as in it. If youwon't give me information I must get it elsewhere."

  The implied threat worked.

  "I do indeed sorrow at Mr. Gately's tragic fate," Olive said, gently. "Tobe sure, he was not my kin, but I admired and deeply respected him. If Idid not deeply love him it was his own fault. He was most strict andtyrannical in his household, and his lightest word was law. I was willingenough to obey in many matters, but it annoyed and irritated me when heinterfered with my simplest occupations or pleasures. He permitted mevery little company or amusement; he forbade many of my friends thehouse; and he persistently refused to let me accept attentions from men,unless they were certain ones whom he preferred, and--whom I did notalways favor."

  "Did he favor Amory Manning?" was the next abrupt question.

  Olive's cheeks turned a soft pink, but she replied calmly. "Notespecially, though he had not forbidden Mr. Manning the house. Why do youask that?"

  "Had you noticed anything unusual lately about Mr. Gately? Anynervousness or apprehension of danger?"

  "Not in the least. He was of a most equable temperament, and there hasbeen no change of late."

  "When did you last see him--alive?"

  "Yesterday afternoon. I went to his office to get some money."

  "He has charge of your fortune?"

  "Yes."

  "He made no objection to your expenditures?"

  "Not at all. He was most just and considerate in my financial affairs. Hegave me then what I asked for, and after a very short stay I went on."

  "Where?"

  "To the house of a friend on Park Avenue, where I spent most of theafternoon."

  "At what time were you in Mr. Gately's office?"

  "I don't know exactly. About two o'clock, I think."

  "Can't you tell me more positively? It may be important."

  But Olive couldn't be sure whether she was there before or after two. Shehad lunched late, and had done some errands, and had finally reached herfriend's home by mid-afternoon.

  This seemed to me most plausible, for society young ladies do not alwayskeep strict note of time, but the Chief apparently thought it a matter ofmoment and made notes concerning it.

  Olive looked indifferent, and though she was courteous enough, he
r wholemanner betokened a desire to get the examination over and to be allowedto go home.

  After a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,elicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated theinterview.

  Mr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presencewas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of apersonal friend.

  Of course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had beenthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes ofthe two men.

  Talcott, the secretary of the Trust Company, was honestly affected by thedeath of his friend and president, and showed real sorrow, while Mr.Mason, the vice-president, was of a cold, precise demeanor, seemingly farmore interested in discovering the murderer than appalled by the tragedy.

  "We _must_ learn who killed him," Mr. Mason reiterated. "Why, ChiefMartin, if the police fail to track down the slayer of Amos Gately, itwill be a blot on their record forever! Spare no effort,--put your bestmen on the case, move heaven and earth, if need be, but get your man! TheCompany will back you to the full extent of its power; we will offer areward, when the suitable time comes for that. But the crime must beavenged, the man that shot President Gately _must_ pay the penalty!"

  Olive's flashing eyes showed her sympathy with this sort of talk and Icould quite understand the attitude of the girl, whose sense of justicecried out for revenge, while she was forced to admit the deprivations ofher life with her guardian.

  Somewhat later, the three went away together, Miss Raynor and the menfrom the bank, but I remained, hoping to learn more from furtherwitnesses. And I did. I learned so much that my thoughts and theorieswere started off along totally different lines; my half-formed beliefswere knocked down and set up again, with swift continuance.

  First, Jenny Boyd, the yellow ear-muffed stenographer came in, wearingher Sunday clothes. Her cheaply fashionable hat was tilted over her pertlittle face, which showed enthusiastic, if ill-advised application ofcertain pigments. Her gown was V-necked and short-skirted, but it had aslight claim to style and was undeniably becoming. Her air of importancewas such that I thought I had never seen such an enormous amount of egocontained in such a small cosmos.

  Minny was with her, but the older sister, in quieter attire, was merely afoil for the ebullient Jenny. Also, they were accompanied by a big,good-natured faced man, whom I recognized at once as the janitor of theMatteawan Building, and who, it transpired, was the father of the twogirls.

  "Here we are," he said, in a bluff, hearty way; "here's me and my girls,and we'd be obliged, Mr. Chief, if you'd cut it short as much as you can,for me and Minny wants to get back."

  "All right, Boyd," and Chief Martin smiled at him. "I'll tackle youfirst. Tell us all about that private elevator of Mr. Gately's."

  "I will, but savin' for this murder business, not a word of it would everhave crossed my lips. Well, Mr. Gately, he owned the Matteawan, d'yousee? and when it suited his purposes to put in a private elevator up tohis rooms on the top floor of the next door building,--The PuritanBuilding, you know,--what more easy than to run the shaft up in the onebuilding with the opening at the top out into the other house. Anyways,that's what he done,--a long time ago. I had to know of it, ofcourse,----"

  "Of course, as superintendent of the Matteawan."

  "That's what they call it now, but I like better to be called janitor. Asjanitor I began, and as janitor I'll work to the end. Well, Mr. Gately,he went up and down in the little car whenever he chose, and no onenoticed him at all. It wasn't, after all, to say, secret, exactly, but itwas a private elevator."

  "But a concealed door in his own office makes the thing pretty secret, Ishould say."

  "Secret it is, then. But it's no crime for a man to have a concealed wayof gettin' into or out of his own rooms, is it? Many's the time Mr.Gately's come down laughing fit to bust at the way he got away from someold doddering fool who wanted to buzz him to death!"

  "You frequently saw him come down, then?"

  "Not to say frequently,--but now and again. If I happened to be about atthe time."

  "Did anyone else use the elevator?"

  "Sometimes, yes. I've seen a few people go up or come down,--but mostlyit was the boss himself."

  "Did he go up in it yesterday?"

  "Not that I seen. But, of course, he may have done so."

  "When did he last come into his offices before--before he disappeared?"

  "When did he, Jenny? Speak up, girl, and tell the Chief all you knowabout it."

  Although Martin had not addressed Jenny, he turned to her now as ifinviting her story.

  And Jenny bridled, shook out her feather boa, made a futile attempt topull her brief skirt a trifle farther down toward a silk-stockingedankle, and began:

  "Of course, when Mr. Gately went into his office he most gen'ally went inthe middle door, right into his pers'nal office. He didn't go through myroom. And, so, yest'day, he went in the middle door, but right away,almost, he opened my door and stuck his head in, and says, 'Don't letanybody in to see me this afternoon, unless you come and ask me first.'"

  "Wasn't this a general rule?"

  "'Most always; but sometimes somebody I'd know'd come, like Mr. Talcottor Miss Olive, and they'd just nod or smile at me and walk right in atMr. Gately's door. So I says, 'Yes, sir,' and I looked sharp that nobodyrushed me. Mr. Gately, he trusted me, and I was careful to do just whathe said, always."

  "Well, go on. Who called?"

  "First, Mr. Smith; and then Mrs. Driggs; and after them, Miss Olive."

  "Miss Raynor?"

  "Yes, of course!" and Jenny spoke flippantly. "I even announced her,'cause I had strick orders. Miss Olive, she just laughed and waited tillI come back and said she might go in."

  "What time was this?"

  "Couldn't say for sure. 'Long about two or three, I guess."

  Jenny was assiduously chewing gum, and her manner was far fromdeferential, which annoyed the Chief.

  "Try to remember more nearly," he said, sharply. "Was Miss Raynor therebefore or after the other two callers you mentioned?"

  "Well, now, it's awful hard to tell that." Jenny cocked her head on oneside, and indulged in what she doubtless considered most fetchingeye-play. "I ain't a two-legged time-table!"

  "Be careful," advised the Chief. "I want straight answers, notfoolishness, from you."

  Jenny sulked. "I'm givin' it to you as straight's I can, Mr. Chief.Honest to goodness, I don't know if Miss Olive was just before the Driggshen or after her!"

  "Also, be more careful of your choice of words. Did Mrs. Driggs go backthrough your room when she left?"

  "Yes, I guess she did,--but,--lemmesee, no, I guess she didn't either."

  "Isn't your memory very short?"

  "For such trifles, yes, sir. But I can remember lots of things real easy.I've got a date now, with----"

  "Stop! If you don't look out, young woman, you'll be locked up!"

  "Behave pretty, now, Jenny girl," urged her father, who was quiteevidently the slave of his resplendent offspring; "don't be flip; thishere's no place for such-like manners."

  "You're right, it isn't," agreed the Chief, and he glared at Jenny, whowas utterly unmoved by his sternness.

  "Well, ain't I behaving pretty?" and the silly thing giggled archly andfolded her hands with an air of mock meekness.

  Continued harsh words from the Chief, however, made her at last tell astraight and coherent story, but it threw no light on the mysteriouscaller. In fact, Jenny knew nothing whatever of him, save that she saw orthought she saw him run downstairs, with a pistol in his hand.

  "What sort of hat did the man wear?" asked the Chief, to get some sort ofdescription.

  "I don't know,--a soft hat, I guess."

  "Not a Derby?"

  "Oh, yes! I do believe it _was_ a Derby! And he had on an overcoat----"

  "A dark one?"

  "No,--sort of--oh, I guess it wasn't an overcoat,--bu
t a, you know,Norfolk jacket, like."

  "A Norfolk, and no overcoat on a day like yesterday! I don't believe yousaw any man at all, Jenny!"

  "Do you know, that's what I think sometimes, Mr. Chief! It almost seems'sif I dreamed it."

  "What do you mean! Don't you dare guy me, miss!"

  "I'm not," and Jenny's saucy face looked serious enough now. "But it wasall so fearful sudden, and I was so struck all of a heap, that I justcan't say what was so and what wasn't!"

  "That does seem to be your difficulty. You sit over there and think thematter over, while I talk to your sister."

  Minny, a quiet, pretty girl, was as reticent as Jenny was voluble. Butafter all, she had little to tell. She had brought no one up in herelevator to see Mr. Gately beside Miss Raynor that she knew of except theman named Smith and Mrs. Driggs.

  "Did these people all go down in your car, too?"

  "I'm not sure. The cars were fairly crowded, and I know Miss Raynor didnot, but I'm not so sure about the others."

  Well, Minny's evidence amounted to nothing, either, for though she toldof several strangers who got on or off her car at various floors, sheknew nothing about them, and they could not be traced.

  The three Boyds were quizzed a little more and then old Joe Boyd, thefather, and Minny were allowed to go back to their respective posts, butthe Chief held Jenny for further grilling. He had a hope, I felt sure,that he could get from her some hint of Mr. Gately's personal affairs. Hehad heard of the hatpin, and though he hadn't yet mentioned itdefinitely, I knew he was satisfied it was not Miss Raynor's, and hemeant to put Jenny through a mild sort of third degree.

  I was about to depart, for I knew I would not be invited to this session,and, too, I could learn the result later.

  Then an officer came in, and after a whispered word to Chief Martin theybeckoned to me.

  "Do you know Amory Manning?" the Chief inquired.

  "I met him yesterday for the first time," I replied, "but I have known ofhim before."

  "Where does he live?"

  "Up around Gramercy Park somewhere, I think."

  "That's right, he does. Well, the man is missing."

  "Missing! Why, I saw him last night,--that is, yesterday afternoon, andhe was all right then."

  "I've had men searching for him all the morning," the Chief went on, "andhe's nowhere to be found. He wasn't at his rooms at all last night."

  I harked back. I had last seen Manning getting off the Third Avenue carat Twenty-second Street,--just where he would naturally get off to go tohis home.

  I told this, and concluded, "he must have changed his mind, then, andgone somewhere else than to his rooms."

  "Yes, it looks that way," agreed the Chief. "But where did he go? That'sthe question. He can't be found."