CHAPTER XXVIII
GOLD AND BLUE
Though I was impatient to interview Cunningham, it was almosteight-thirty before we arrived at 84th Street, for on the way we had ablowout and the garage attendant was the slowest specimen of his typethat I had ever had the misfortune to encounter.
Cunningham himself, debonair and genial as usual, admitted us into hisapartment and invited us into what he designated as his smoking-room. Itwas a medium-sized room furnished in good taste, and as I sank into thedepths of a luxurious arm-chair and accepted the cigar he offered me Ifelt assured that Cunningham could reasonably explain away the doubtswhich I had lately entertained toward him. Yes, the personality of theman and the soothing influence of that rare cigar had combined to makeme as eager to hear him justify himself as before I had been anxious toprove him the murderer of his friend.
But McKelvie was not so easily won over. He accepted a chair and acigar, it is true, yet I knew well that he was waiting as a person doesat chess for the next move of his adversary.
"It is very pleasant to have you gentlemen call upon me," saidCunningham, breaking the silence. "Have you come in a friendly or anantagonistic spirit, Mr. McKelvie?"
"I have come with an open mind," responded McKelvie quietly.
"Explain yourself, please." Cunningham leaned back and puffed leisurelyat his cigar.
"In an investigation of the sort that I am conducting one stumbles uponmany queer things." McKelvie paused to draw a long puff and to blow aseries of rings toward the ceiling. "As these smoke rings cross andrecross each other and finally merge together, so do the trails in thiscase cross and recross each other until they all come together in thefinal solution. To distinguish the truth from the myriad bypaths ofcoincidence and false testimony is quite an art, I assure you, for I donot believe in doing any man an injustice. Therefore, I have come hereto-night to give you a chance to explain certain curious facts whichhave come to my knowledge."
Cunningham bowed. "I thank you for the consideration, and I shall do mybest to satisfy you."
McKelvie laid aside his cigar. "Are you a lawyer, Mr. Cunningham?" heasked bluntly.
If he thought to startle the man facing us so calmly McKelvie wasmistaken in his estimate of the lawyer's character. Cunningham removedhis cigar from his mouth, contemplated its lighted end for a moment, andthen replied simply, "I am not registered in New York, if that is whatyou mean."
"Then may I ask by what right you constituted yourself Mr. Darwin'slawyer, and acted as Mrs. Darwin's counsel at the inquest?" continuedMcKelvie imperturbably.
Cunningham grinned sardonically. "I fancy that my estimate of the policecoincides with yours, Mr. McKelvie," he said. "They got the idea, fromOrton possibly, that I was Darwin's lawyer. They asked me to attend theinquest. I assumed the position they thrust upon me. What would you?" heshrugged whimsically. "It was no time to explain the complicatedrelation between us. As far as Mrs. Darwin is concerned, I did notadvise her. In fact, I did not even see her until she entered thestudy."
He paused, and then leaned forward and said pointedly as he eyedMcKelvie coolly, "You have asked me if I'm a lawyer. Yes, I am in thisway. I have studied law and was ready for my bar examinations when thedeath of an uncle in a foreign country left me wealthy. I had to goabroad to secure my inheritance, and when I returned I had no desire torestudy for those examinations. So you see, I am a lawyer without asheepskin, but, nevertheless, Philip Darwin had more confidence in myjudgment than in that of the men who legalized his affairs. I have givenhim legal advice, yes, as between friend and friend, because I was hisconfident and he asked me for it, but I have never attempted to practiselaw in New York City or elsewhere. If you doubt my statement you are atliberty to verify it."
"I don't doubt you, Mr. Cunningham," responded McKelvie quietly. "I knowyou haven't practised law. I was merely trying to get the connectionbetween you and Darwin, since you know so many of his affairs andrepresented him in a legal capacity when you went to Chicago to see DickTrenton."
A slight tremor of Cunningham's eyelids was the only indication that theshot had told, but he replied as coolly as ever, "Not in a legalcapacity. He sent me because I was acquainted with the details of theaffair and understood merely that I was to find out how much real proofthe boy had. What Darwin called me in his telegram I do not know, sinceI did not see it."
"How do you know he sent a telegram?" queried McKelvie.
"Is this the third degree, Mr. McKelvie?" asked Cunningham, frowning.
"No, Mr. Cunningham. I know it sounds very much like it," apologizedMcKelvie, "but it isn't meant to be. You have shown a disposition to aidus before, and you will help me immensely by making certain mattersclear. Will you answer a few more questions?"
The frown cleared. "Certainly. Glad to assist you. Fire away,"Cunningham returned indulgently. "And I don't mind saying that Darwintold me he had sent a telegram when he asked me to go out to Chicago forhim."
"What advice did you give Darwin when you returned from Chicago?"
"I told him that the boy had a strong case and advised him to write andrequest Dick himself to see Mrs. Darwin and arrange for the divorce.Whether he followed my advice or not I don't know."
"For your information let me say that he did follow that advice, thatYoung Trenton came to New York and, without apparent cause, committedsuicide. Whether there was an interview between them or not I cannot ofcourse say positively," was McKelvie's astonishing reply. Why was hepermitting Cunningham to remain in ignorance of our latest discoveryconcerning Richard Trenton?
"I'm very sorry to hear this," murmured Cunningham. "I should hate tothink that my advice had brought him to such an end."
McKelvie changed the subject as abruptly as he had introduced it. "Yousaid you had charge of Darwin's securities. What made you keep them?"his eyes on the other man's face.
"He was a very peculiar man and hated responsibility. I have cared forhis securities and valuables for many years."
"Are you also caring for the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars thathe drew from the bank and that is now reposing in your strong box?"
Cunningham looked annoyed, and then laughed cynically.
"Nothing escapes you, does it?" he sneered, then in a different tone,"No, that money is mine. A year ago I loaned Darwin enough to cover aslump in the market and thus saved him his fortune. I told him I was inno hurry for it, but as I've remarked more than once, he was peculiar.He came to me on the sixth and handed me the cash. I asked him what Ishould do with all that money in that shape and told him I'd prefer acheck. He said that I'd given him cash and he felt better returning itin kind. And so he left it. I was going to add it to my bank account,but I'm going on a trip shortly and decided the cash would be useful tome. Therefore I put it in my strong-box for safe keeping."
"Thank you very much. Sorry to have disturbed you," said McKelvie,rising.
"Answers satisfactory?" asked Cunningham with a wry smile.
"Quite."
"And how much nearer to the solution have I carried you?" Cunninghamcontinued with great politeness.
"Unfortunately I have remained static. Your answers though satisfactoryas far as you yourself are concerned, have not helped me a particletoward solving my problem. I shall have to resort to desperate measures,I'm afraid," responded McKelvie, smiling rather oddly.
"Desperate measures, eh? That sounds like business. Before you undertakethis work, honor me by drinking to your ultimate success," returnedCunningham. "My man is away, so if you will pardon me a moment I willget the whisky and soda."
The moment Cunningham left the room, McKelvie to my astonishment, sprangto the heavy portieres through which our host had passed and looked out.Then he drew back and walking swiftly to a door at the side of the room,he opened it and darted within.
Wondering what he was up to, I rose and followed him to this doorway andlooked into the room beyond. To my surprise it was a bedroom,extravagantly but exquisitely furnished in gold and blue, a woman's
boudoir, but I had no time to fix the details in my mind, for at thismoment McKelvie came toward me hurriedly from his search of thedressing-table.
With a final comprehensive glance, and a whispered, "I thought I heardhis step in the hall," McKelvie closed the door silently while Iretreated to my chair and sank into its comfortable depths, none toosoon. With a clink of glasses, Cunningham entered through the portieres.He glanced at us rather suspiciously, I thought, but McKelvie wascontemplating the ceiling as he puffed his discarded cigar, and I wasdeep in the pages of a book, what book I have no idea.
Cunningham set the tray he carried on the table and poured out thewhisky, allowing us to help ourselves to the soda. Then we raised ourglasses and drank to the toast Cunningham had proposed, though I noticedthat McKelvie merely touched his glass to his lips and set it downuntasted.
"I never drink whisky," he said quietly, as Cunningham raised his browsin interrogation.
"Is there anything else I can offer you?"
"No, thank you. I appreciate your efforts in my behalf. Good night, Mr.Cunningham," and McKelvie bowed, a trifle too deeply to be reallysincere.
"Good night, Mr. McKelvie," responded Cunningham, returning the bow.Then he offered his hand to me. "Good night," he said again as we left.
"What on earth were you doing in that bedroom?" I inquired as we partedat McKelvie's door. "By the way, it was rather an odd room--for abachelor."
"Did you remark the gold and blue? Rather a familiar combination, eh?Here's the true significance of that very charming room."
Holding up his hand, he dangled before my eyes a tiny yellow satinsachet bag embroidered in blue, a satin sachet whose fragrance was thefragrance of Rose Jacqueminot!
The Mystery of the Hidden Room Page 28
