XI
THE MAN WITH A BEARD
There were but few men in town who wore long beards. A list was made ofthese and handed to the coroner, who regarded it with a grim smile.
"Not a man whose name is here would be guilty of a misdemeanour, letalone a crime. You must look outside of our village population for themurderer of Agatha Webb."
"Very likely, but tell me something first about these persons," urgedKnapp. "Who is Edward Hope?"
"A watch repairer; a man of estimable character."
"And Sylvester Chubb?"
"A farmer who, to support his mother, wife, and seven children, worksfrom morning till sundown on his farm, and from sundown till 11 o'clockat night on little fancy articles he cuts out from wood and sells inBoston."
"John Barker, Thomas Elder, Timothy Sinn?"
"All good men; I can vouch for every one of them."
"And John Zabel, James Zabel?"
"Irreproachable, both of them. Famous ship--builders once, but the changeto iron ship-building has thrown them out of business. Pity, too, forthey were remarkable builders. By the by, Fenton, we don't see them atchurch or on the docks any more."
"No, they keep very much to themselves; getting old, like ourselves,Talbot."
"Lively boys once. We must hunt them up, Fenton. Can't bear to see oldfriends drop away from good company. But this isn't business. You neednot pause over their names, Knapp."
But Knapp had slipped out.
We will follow him.
Walking briskly down the street, he went up the steps of a certain houseand rang the bell. A gentleman with a face not entirely unknown to uscame to the door.
The detective did not pause for preliminaries.
"Are you Mr. Crane?" he asked,--"the gentleman who ran against a mancoming out of Mrs. Webb's house last night?"
"I am Mr. Crane," was the slightly surprised rejoinder, "and I was runagainst by a man there, yes."
"Very well," remarked the detective, quietly, "my name is Knapp. I havebeen sent from Boston to look into this matter, and I have an idea thatyou can help me more than any other man here in Sutherlandtown. Who wasthis person who came in contact with you so violently? You know, even ifyou have been careful not to mention any names."
"You are mistaken. I don't know; I can't know. He wore a sweeping beard,and walked and acted like a man no longer young, but beyond that---"
"Mr. Crane, excuse me, but I know men. If you had no suspicion as towhom that person was you would not look so embarrassed. You suspect, or,at least, associate in your own mind a name with the man you met. Was iteither of these you see written here?"
Mr. Crane glanced at the card on which the other had scribbled a coupleof names, and started perceptibly.
"You have me," said he; "you must be a man of remarkable perspicacity."
The detective smiled and pocketed his card. The names he thus concealedwere John Zabel, James Zabel.
"You have not said which of the two it was," Knapp quietly suggested.
"No," returned the minister, "and I have not even thought. Indeed, I amnot sure that I have not made a dreadful mistake in thinking it waseither. A glimpse such as I had is far from satisfactory; and they areboth such excellent men---"
"Eight! You did make a mistake, of course, I have not the least doubt ofit. So don't think of the matter again. I will find out who the real manwas; rest easy."
And with the lightest of bows, Knapp drew off and passed as quickly ashe could, without attracting attention, round the corner to theconfectioner's.
Here his attack was warier. Sally Loton was behind the counter with herhusband, and they had evidently been talking the matter over veryconfidentially. But Knapp was not to be awed by her small, keen eye orstrident voice, and presently succeeded in surprising a knowing look onthe lady's face, which convinced him that in the confidences betweenhusband and wife a name had been used which she appeared to be lessunwilling to impart than he. Knapp, consequently, turned his fullattention towards her, using in his attack that oldest and subtlestweapon against the sex--flattery.
"My dear madam," said he, "your good heart is apparent; your husband hasconfided to you a name which you, out of fear of some mistake, hesitateto repeat. A neighbourly spirit, ma'am, a very neighbourly spirit; butyou should not allow your goodness to defeat the ends of justice. If yousimply told us whom this man resembled we would be able to get some ideaof his appearance."
"He didn't resemble anyone I know," growled Loton. "It was too dark forme to see how he looked."
"His voice, then? People are traced by their voices."
"I didn't recognise his voice."
Knapp smiled, his eye still on the woman.
"Yet you have thought of someone he reminded you of?"
The man was silent, but the wife tossed her head ever so lightly.
"Now, you must have had your reasons for that. No one thinks of a goodand respectable neighbour in connection with the buying of a loaf ofbread at midnight with a twenty-dollar bill, without some positivereason."
"The man wore a beard. I felt it brush my hand as he took the loaf."
"Good! That is a point."
"Which made me think of other men who wore beards."
"As, for instance---"
The detective had taken from his pocket the card which he had used withsuch effect at the minister's, and as he said these words twirled it sothat the two names written upon it fell under Sally Loton's inquisitiveeyes. The look with which she read them was enough. John Zabel, JamesZabel.
"Who told you it was either of these men?" she asked.
"You did," he retorted, pocketing the card with a smile.
"La, now! Samuel, I never spoke a word," she insisted, in anxiousprotest to her husband, as the detective slid quietly from the store.
Agatha Webb Page 11
