CHAPTER VII THE VOLUME OF MARTIAL
The Medical Examiner, Doctor Marsh, the Detective Morton, and theSecretary of the late John Waring, Gordon Lockwood, looked at oneanother.
Without any words having been spoken that might indicate a lack ofharmony, there yet was a hint of discord in their attitudes.
Doctor Marsh was sure the case was a suicide.
"You'll find the stiletto somewhere," he shrugged, when held upon thatpoint. "To find the weapon is not my business--but when a man is dead ina locked room, and dead from a wound that could have beenself-administered, I can't see a murder situation."
"Nor I," said Lockwood. "Has the waste-basket been searched for the thingthat killed him?"
Acting quickly on his own suggestion, Gordon Lockwood dived beneath thegreat desk.
Like a flash, Morton was after him, and though the detective was notsure, he thought he saw the secretary grasp a bit of crumpled paper andstuff it in his pocket.
"Now, look here, I'll make that search," Morton exclaimed, and almostsnatched the waste-basket from the other's grasp.
"Very well," and Lockwood put his hands in his pockets and stood lookingon, as Morton fumbled with the scraps.
He emptied the basket on the floor, but there were only a few tornenvelopes and memoranda, which were soon proved to be of no indicativevalue to the searchers.
"I'll save the stuff, anyway," Morton declared, getting a newspaper andwrapping in it the few bits of waste paper.
"Did you take a paper from this basket and put it in your pocket?" thedetective suddenly demanded.
Lockwood, without moving, gave Morton a cold stare that was more negativethan any words could be, and was, moreover, exceedingly disconcerting.
"Look here, Mr. Morton," he said, "if you suspect me of killing myemployer, come out and say so. I know, in story-books, the first one tobe suspected is the confidential secretary. So, accuse me, and get itover with."
The very impassivity of Lockwood's face seemed to put him far beyond andabove suspicion, and the detective, hastily mumbled,
"Not at all, Mr. Lockwood, not at all. But you don't seem real frank,now, and you must know how important it is that we get all the first handinformation we can."
"Of course, and I'm ready to tell all I know. Go on and ask questions."
"Well, then, what do you surmise has become of that five hundred dollarsand that ruby stickpin? Doesn't their disappearance rather argue againstsuicide?"
Lockwood meditated. "Not necessarily. If they have been stolen--"
"Stolen! Of course they've been stolen, since they aren't here! I don'tsee any safe."
"No, Doctor Waring had no safe. There has been little or no robbery inCorinth, and Doctor Waring rarely kept much money about."
"Five hundred dollars is quite a sum."
"That was for housekeeping purposes. Whenever necessary, I drew for himfrom the bank that amount, and he kept it in that drawer until it wasused up. He always gave Mrs. Peyton cash to pay the servants and someother matters as well as her own salary. His tradesman's bills were paidby check."
"Was the money in bills?"
"I invariably brought it to him in the same denominations. Two hundred infive dollar bills, two hundred in ones, and a hundred in silver coins."
"In paper rolls?"
"Yes; it may have been injudicious to keep so large a sum in his deskdrawer, but he always did. Though, to be sure, he often paid out a greatdeal of it at once. Sometimes he would cash checks for some one or givesome to the poor."
"Drawer never locked?"
"Always locked. But both the Doctor and I carried a key. He was not sosuspicious of me as you are, Mr. Morton." The speaker gave his coldsmile.
"And as to the ruby pin, Mr. Lockwood?" Morton went on. "Are you willingwe should search your effects?"
Lockwood started and for a moment he almost lost his equipoise.
"I am not willing," he said, after an instant's pause, "but if you say itis necessary, I suppose I shall have to submit."
Morton looked at him uneasily. He had no appearance of a criminal, helooked too proud and haughty to be a culprit, yet might that not be sheerbravado?
Discontinuing the conversation, Morton turned his attention to the tablein the window in the hall where the secretary so often sat.
He examined the appurtenances, for the table was furnished almost like adesk, and he picked up a silver penholder.
It was round and smooth and without chasing or marking of any sort, savefor the initials G. L.
"This yours?" he asked, and Lockwood nodded assent.
"I ask you, Doctor Marsh," Morton turned to the Examiner, "whether thatwound which is in Doctor Waring's neck could have been made with thispenholder."
Startled, Marsh took the implement and carefully scrutinized it. Of usuallength, it was tapering and ended in a point. The circumference at thelarger end was just about the circumference of the wound in question.
"I must say it could be possible," Marsh replied, his eyes alternately onthe penholder and on the dead man. "Yes, it is exactly the size."
"And it is strong enough and sharp enough, and it is round," summed upMorton. "Now, Mr. Lockwood, I make no accusation. I'm no novice, and Iknow there's a possibility that this might have been the weapon used, andyet it might not have been used by you. But I will say, that I have muchto say to you yet, and I advise you not to try to leave town."
"I've no intention of leaving town or of trying to do so," Lockwoodasserted, "but," he went on, "would you mind telling me, if I killed theman I was devoted to, how I left the room locked behind me?"
"Those locked rooms bore me," said Morton, "I've read lots of detectivestories founded on that plot. Invariably the locked room proves to bevulnerable at some point. I haven't finished examining the doors andwindows myself as yet."
"Proceed with your examinations, then," said Lockwood; "if you can find asecret or concealed entrance, it's more than I can do."
"More than you will do, perhaps, but not necessarily more than you cando."
"Don't forget that vanished Japanese," prompted Marsh. "I've small faithin Orientals, and if there is a way to get in and out secretly, I'dquestion the Jap before I would Mr. Lockwood here."
"So should I," declared the impassive secretary himself. "And anotherthing don't forget, Morton, after the Private Secretary, the next personto be suspected is the butler--that is in fiction, which I gather youtake as your manual of procedure."
Lockwood's sarcasm drove Morton frantic, but he was too wise to show hisannoyance.
"I shall neglect no possible suspect," he said, with dignity.
And then two men came from the police, who said they were photographersand desired to take some pictures, at the Chief's orders.
Lockwood left them, and went to the living-room where the household and afew neighbors were assembled.
"I'm glad to get out of that detective atmosphere," he said, relaxing inan easy chair. "It's bad enough to have the man dead, without seeing andhearing those cold-blooded police bungling over their 'clues' and'evidences.'"
"Tell me a little of the circumstances," asked Mrs. Bates, who waspresent. "I can bear it from you, Gordon, and I must know."
"Apparently, Doctor Waring was sitting at his desk, reading," Lockwoodbegan, with a faraway look, as if trying to reconstruct the scene. "Hemust have been reading Martial--for the volume was open on the desk--andthe pages were blood-stained."
Mrs. Bates gave a little cry, and shuddered, but Lockwood went unmovablyon.
"There were other books about, some open, some closed, but Martial wasnearest his hand--quite as if he were reading up to the last moment."
"When the murderer came!" Mrs. Bates breathed softly, her eyes wide withhorror.
"It couldn't have been murder," Lockwood said, in a positive way, "yousee, Mrs. Bates, it just couldn't have been. That Morton detective istrying to trump up a way the assassin could have
entered that lockedroom--but he can't find any way. I know he can't. So it must have beensuicide. Much as we dislike to admit it, it is the only possible theory."
"But they say there was robbery," Mrs. Peyton put in. "The ruby pin isgone and the money from the drawer."
"But, perhaps," Gordon said, "they were taken by a robber who did notalso murder his victim. Nogi, now--"
"Of course!" cried Helen Peyton, quickly; "I see it! I never could abideNogi, with his stealthy ways. He stole the things, and then he ran away,and later, Doctor Waring killed himself!"
"Because of the robbery!" exclaimed Emily Bates.
"Oh, no!" Lockwood returned. "Certainly not for that. Indeed, the motiveis the greatest mystery of all. We could perhaps imagine a motive formurder--whether it was robbery, or some brute of 'the other faction' orsome old enemy of whom we know nothing. But for suicide, though I am sureit was that, I can think of no motive whatever."
"Nor I," said Mrs. Bates. "I knew him better than any of you, and Iknow--I know for a certainty, that he was a happy man. That he lookedforward eagerly to his marriage with me, that he was happy in the thoughtof his Presidency--that he hadn't a real trouble in the world."
"The other faction," began Mrs. Peyton.
"No," said Mrs. Bates, firmly. "He knew he was doing his duty, upholdingthe principles and tradition of his College, and the other faction didnot worry him. He was too big-minded, too broad-visioned to allow that totrouble him."
"I think you're quite right, Mrs. Bates," Lockwood agreed; "but grantingit was suicide, what do you think was the cause?"
"That's just it," she declared; "I don't think it was suicide, I know itcouldn't have been. He was too happy, too good, too fine, to do such athing, even if he had had a reason. And then, what did he do it with?"
"Morton imagines a secret entrance of some sort," said Lockwood. "Ifthere is one, the robber could have come in afterward, and could havecarried off the weapon--"
"Hush, Gordon," said Mrs. Bates, sternly. "That's too absurd! If it hadbeen suicide--which it wasn't--why under heaven would a burglar coming inlater, take away the weapon?"
"To save himself," said Lockwood, shortly. "So he wouldn't be suspectedof the greater crime."
"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Peyton, irately; "I never heard such rubbish! And,in the first place, there's no secret entrance to the study. I haven'tswept and dusted and vacuum-cleaned that place all these years withoutknowing that! Yes, and had the room redecorated and refloored, and--Oh, Iknow every inch of it! There's no possible chance of a secret entrance.Who built it and when and why? Not Doctor Waring. His life's always beenan open book. Never has he had any secret errands, any callers whom Ididn't know, any matters on which he was silent or uncommunicative. Untilhis engagement to Mrs. Bates, he hadn't a ripple in his quiet life, andthat he told me about as soon as it occurred."
Mrs. Peyton looked squarely at Doctor Waring's fiancee, as if to imply acomplete knowledge of the courtship, as well as an intimate knowledge ofthe Doctor's life.
"That's true," Lockwood said. "He was a man without secrets. He wasalways willing I should open his mail, and there was never a letter thatI did not know about."
Yet even as he spoke, the man remembered the crumpled paper he had takenfrom the waste basket, and he felt it in his pocket, though he made nosign.
"Oh, people, is my aunt here?"
It was Pinky Payne, who, all excitement, came running in.
"I've just heard, and I want to see Aunt Emily."
"Here I am, dear. Come here, my boy," and she drew him down beside her onthe sofa.
"What do they say, Pinky? What's the talk in town?" Lockwood asked.
"Oh, the place is in a turmoil. There are the wildest reports. Some sayit's a--a--that he killed himself, you know, and some say--he didn't.Which was it?"
The boy's lip quivered as he looked about at the silent people.
"Tell him, Gordon," begged Mrs. Bates, and Lockwood told the principaldetails of the mystery.
"Never a suicide! never!" Pinckney Payne declared. "I know Doc Waring toowell for that. Suicide means a coward--and he was never that! No, AuntEmily, it was murder. Oh, how terrible," and the boy almost lost controlof himself. "You were at the bottom of it, Auntie. I'm sure it was eitherone of those men you refused when you took up with Doc Waring."
"Why, Pinckney! How dreadful of you! Don't say such a thing!"
"But I know it. If you'd heard Jim Haskell and Philip Leonard talk--Ifelt sure they meant to kill Doctor Waring."
"Pinky, I forbid you--"
"But it's true, Auntie. And if it's true, you want them shown up, don'tyou, whichever one it was?"
"Hush, Pinky--hush!"
"Yes, shut up, Pink," Lockwood spoke sternly. "What you suggest is highlyimprobable, but even if there's suspicion of such a thing, don't babbleabout it. That's the detective's work."
"Yes--and who's your detective? Old blind-as-a-bat Morton, I'll bet, whocan't see a hole through a ladder! I'll show him now--"
"Pinky, I beg of you, hush," said his Aunt, losing her self-control.
"There, Auntie, dear, don't cry. I didn't mean to worry you, butsomething must be done--"
"Something will be done, Pinky," Lockwood assured him. "But I tell youright now, if you try to stick your inexperienced finger in this pie,you'll make trouble for us all--from your aunt down. Now, behaveyourself. Try to be a man, not a foolish boy."
"That's what I'm doing! And I don't propose to lie down on the job,either. I tell you, Gordon. I know a lot about detective work--"
"Cut it out, Pink," said Helen, and her words seemed to have an effect onthe irrepressible youth. "To read detective stories is one thing--tosolve a real, live mystery is quite another."
"That's right, Helen," and Lockwood nodded approval. "Many a personthinks he has a bit of detective instinct, when all he has is curiosityand imagination."
Helen, pleased at this appreciation went on to lay down the law forPinckney Payne.
She was interrupted by the entrance of Morton who wanted to learn more ofthe departed Japanese, Nogi.
"What other servants are there?" he asked Mrs. Peyton.
"Only the two Japanese," she replied. "They do all the cooking andserving at table; all the cleaning of the house; and the rest, mydaughter and myself attend to."
"There is a chauffeur?"
"Yes, but the garage is a few blocks away, and the chauffeur lives athome."
"You had Nogi but a short time?"
"Only a few days."
"He came well recommended?"
"He had very fine written recommendations, but from people I did notknow, and too far away to inquire of. I took him on trial."
"He seemed honest and faithful?"
"He seemed so--but he was silent and moody--a man one could scarcelyunderstand."
"Can you imagine his killing his master--granting the opportunity?"
Mrs. Peyton considered. "I can imagine it," she said, "but I shouldn'tlike to say I would suspect him of it. He was soft-footed, and went aboutwith a sort of stealthy manner, but I'm not prepared to say he was wrongin any way."
"Call in Ito, the other one."
Ito came, and stood stolidly by. His impassive demeanor was not unlikethat of Gordon Lockwood. Waring had sometimes remarked this in a chaffingway to his secretary.
"You knew this Nogi?" asked Morton.
"Only since he came here," answered the butler, in perfect English.
"You liked him?"
"Neither yes nor no. He knew little of his duties, but he was willing tolearn. He was respectful to me, and friendly enough. I had no reason todislike him."
Morton didn't seem to get anywhere with this man.
"Well, what do you think of his character?" he said. "Would you say hewas capable of killing his employer?"
"All men are capable of crime," said the Jap, in a low, even voice, "buthe could not kill Doctor Waring and go away leaving the study locked onthe inside."
"Why did he
go away, then?"
"That I do not know. It may be he tired of the place here."
"But there was money due him."
"Yes; that makes it hard to understand."
Morton had an uncomfortable feeling that the Japanese was scornful ofhim, and, worse still, that the other listeners were also.
"You may go," he told Ito, and then, turning to Lockwood, he said, alittle belligerently, "Who is in charge here? To whom do I make myreport?"
The question was like a bombshell. All were silent, until Mrs. Batessaid, "I suppose I am what might be called in charge. You may report tome."
"To you, ma'am?" Morton was, clearly, surprised.
"Yes; as Doctor Waring's affianced wife, and as his heir, I feel I am inauthority. And also, I wish all reports made to me, as I am the one mostdeeply interested in learning the identity of the murderer."
"If he was murdered," supplemented Mrs. Bates.
And Mrs. Peyton broke in, "You needn't think, Mr. Morton, that there'ssuch a thing as a secret entrance or secret passage in this house, for Iknow there is not."
"Yet there are other theories, other possibilities," the detective said,his air a little less important than it had been. "Suppose, now, thatNogi had robbed and murdered his master, when he carried in the watertray. Just suppose that, and suppose that, with his Japanese cunning hehad devised a way to lock the door behind him--or, say, he had gone outby the glass door, and had locked that behind him."
"How?" cried Pinckney, his eyes wide with excitement.
"Say he had previously removed a pane of glass--they are not large panes.Say, he reached through, locked the door inside--the French window, Imean--and then had put in the pane, reputtied it, and gone away."
"Gee!" cried the boy. "That could be!"
"Of course it could. And there are other ways it might have beenaccomplished. Now, we don't say that did happen, but what I want to knowis, who is at the head of this investigation?"
"I can't feel that Mrs. Bates is," Mrs. Peyton said, a little sullenly."She was not married yet, and therefore, as resident housekeeper, I feelrather in authority myself."
"But you say you are the heir, Mrs. Bates?" the detective inquired.
"Perhaps I ought not to have told that," Emily Bates spoke regretfully."But Doctor Waring's lawyer will tell you, it is true I am the principalheir. It is so designated in his will, which you will find in a secretdrawer in his desk."
"You know where this drawer is?"
"I do."
"Later on, I will ask you to show us. If you are the heir, there is nofurther question of your authority here."
And Detective Morton left the room.
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