XXXI.
SOME FINE WORK.
"O perfectly!" I assented, with just the shade of irony necessary to robthe assertion of its mendacity. "But go on, go on. You have not begun tosatisfy me yet. You did not stop with finding a motive for the crime Iam sure."
"Madam, you are a female Shylock; you will have the whole of the bond ornone."
"We are not here to draw comparisons," I retorted. "Keep to the subject,Mr. Gryce; keep to the subject."
He laughed; laid down the little basket he held, took it up again, andfinally resumed:
"Madam, you are right; we did not stop at finding a motive. Our nextstep was to collect evidence directly connecting him with the crime."
"And you succeeded in this?"
My tone was unnecessarily eager, this was all so unaccountable to me;but he did not appear to notice it.
"We did. Indeed the evidence against him is stronger than that againsthis brother. For if we ignore the latter part of Howard's testimony,which was evidently a tissue of lies, what remains against him? Threethings: his dogged persistency in not recognizing his wife in themurdered woman; the receiving of the house keys from his brother; andthe fact that he was seen on the stoop of his father's house at anunusual hour in the morning following this murder. Now what have weagainst Franklin? Many things.
"First:
"That he can no more account for the hours between half-past eleven onTuesday morning and five o'clock on the following Wednesday morning thanhis brother can. In one breath he declares that he was shut up in hisrooms at the hotel, for which no corroborative evidence is forthcoming;and in another that he was on a tramp after his brother, which seemsequally improbable and incapable of proof.
"Second:
"That he and not Howard was the man in a linen duster, and that he andnot Howard was in possession of the keys that night. As these areserious statements to make, I will give you my reasons for them. Theyare distinct from the recognition of his person by the inmates of theHotel D----, and added to that recognition, form a strong case againsthim. The janitor who has charge of the offices in Duane Street,happening to have a leisure moment on the morning of the day on whichMrs. Van Burnam was murdered, was making the most of it by watching theunloading of a huge boiler some four doors below the Van Burnamwarehouse. He was consequently looking intently in that direction whenHoward passed him, coming from the interview with his brother in whichhe had been given the keys. Mr. Van Burnam was walking briskly, butfinding the sidewalk blocked by the boiler to which I have alluded,paused for a moment to let it pass, and being greatly heated, took outhis handkerchief to wipe his forehead. This done, he moved on, just as aman dressed in a long duster came up behind him, stopping where hestopped and picking up from the ground something which the firstgentleman had evidently dropped. This last man's figure looked more orless familiar to the janitor, so did the duster, and later he discoveredthat the latter was the one which he had seen hanging for so long a timein the little disused closet under the warehouse stairs. Its wearer wasFranklin Van Burnam, who, as I took pains to learn, had left the officeimmediately in the wake of his brother, and the object he picked up wasthe bunch of keys which the latter had inadvertently dropped. He mayhave thought he lost them later, but it was then and there they slippedfrom his pocket. I will here add that the duster found by the hackman inhis coach has been identified as the one missing from the closet justmentioned.
"Third:
"The keys with which Mr. Van Burnam's house was unlocked were foundhanging in their usual place by noon of the next day. They could nothave been taken there by Howard, for he was not seen at the office afterthe murder. By whom then were they returned, if not by Franklin?
"Fourth:
"The letter, for the possession of which I believe this crime to havebeen perpetrated, was found by us in a supposedly secret drawer of thisgentleman's desk. It was much crumpled, and bore evidences of havingbeen rather rudely dealt with since it was last seen in Mrs. VanBurnam's hand in that very office.
"But the fact which is most convincing, and which will tell most heavilyagainst him, is the unexpected discovery of the murdered lady's rings,also in this same desk. How _you_ became aware that anything of suchimportance could be found there, knowing even the exact place in whichthey were secreted, I will not stop to ask at this moment. Enough thatwhen your maid entered the Van Burnam offices and insisted with so muchingenuousness that she was expected by Mr. Van Burnam and would wait forhis return, the clerk most devoted to my interests became distrustful ofher intentions, having been told to be on the look-out for a girl ingray or a lady in black with puffs on each side of two very sharp eyes.You will pardon me, Miss Butterworth. He therefore kept his eyes on thegirl and presently espied her stretching out her hand towards a hook atthe side of Mr. Franklin Van Burnam's desk. As it is upon this hook thisgentleman strings his unanswered letters, the clerk rose from his placeas quickly as possible, and coming forward with every appearance ofpolite solicitude,--did she not say he was polite, MissButterworth?--inquired what she wished, thinking she was after someletter, or possibly anxious for a specimen of some one's handwriting.But she gave him no other reply than a blush and a confused look, forwhich you must rebuke her, Miss Butterworth, if you are going tocontinue to employ her as your agent in these very delicate affairs. Andshe made another mistake. She should not have left so abruptly upondetection, for that gave the clerk an opportunity to telephone for me,which he immediately did. I was at liberty, and I came at once, and,after hearing his story, decided that what was of interest to you mustbe of interest to me, and so took a look at the letters she had handled,and discovered, what she also must have discovered before she let themslip from her hand, that the five missing rings we were all in search ofwere hanging on this same hook amid the sheets of Franklin'scorrespondence. You can imagine, madam, my satisfaction, and thegratitude which I felt towards my agent, who by his quickness hadretained to me the honors of a discovery which it would have beeninjurious to my pride to have had confined entirely to yourself."
"I can understand," I repeated, and trusted myself to say no more, hotas my secret felt upon my lips.
"You have read Poe's story of the filigree basket?" he now suggested,running his finger up and down the filigree work he himself held.
I nodded. I saw what he meant at once.
"Well, the principle involved in that story explains the presence of therings in the midst of this stack of letters. Franklin Van Burnam, if heis the murderer of his sister-in-law, is one of the subtlest villainsthis city has ever produced, and knowing that, if once suspected, everysecret drawer and professed hiding-place within his reach would besearched, he put these dangerous evidences of his guilt in a place soconspicuous, and yet so little likely to attract attention, that even soold a hand as myself did not think of looking for them there."
He had finished, and the look he gave me was for myself alone.
"And now, madam," said he, "that I have stated the facts of the caseagainst Franklin Van Burnam, has not the moment come for you to showyour appreciation of my good nature by a corresponding show ofconfidence on your part?"
I answered with a distinct negative. "There is too much that isunexplained as yet in your case against Franklin," I objected. "You haveshown that he had motive for the murder and that he was connected moreor less intimately with the crime we are considering, but you have by nomeans explained all the phenomena accompanying this tragedy. How, forinstance, do you account for Mrs. Van Burnam's whim in changing herclothing, if her brother-in-law, instead of her husband, was hercompanion at the Hotel D----?"
You see I was determined to know the whole story before introducing MissOliver's name into this complication.
He who had seen through the devices of so many women in his day did notsee through mine, perhaps because he took a certain professionalpleasure in making his views on this subject clear to the attentiveInspector. At all events, this is the way he responded to myhalf-curious, half-ironical question:
"A crime planned and perpetrated for the purpose I have just mentioned,Miss Butterworth, could not have been a simple one under anycircumstances. But conceived as this one was by a man of more thanordinary intelligence, and carried out with a skill and precautionlittle short of marvellous, the features which it presents are of such avarying and subtle character that only by the exercise of a certainamount of imagination can they be understood at all. Such an imaginationI possess, but how can I be sure that you do?"
"By testing it," I suggested.
"Very good, madam, I will. Not from actual knowledge, then, but from acertain insight I have acquired in my long dealing with such matters, Ihave come to the conclusion that Franklin Van Burnam did not in thebeginning plan to kill this woman in his father's house.
"On the contrary, he had fixed upon a hotel room as the scene of theconflict he foresaw between them, and that he might carry it on withoutendangering their good names, had urged her to meet him the next morningin the semi-disguise of a gossamer over her fine dress and a heavy veilover her striking features; making the pretence, no doubt, of this beingthe more appropriate costume for her to appear in before the oldgentleman should he so far concede to her demands as to take her to thesteamer. For himself he had planned the adoption of a disfiguring dusterwhich had been hanging for a long time in a closet on the ground-floorof the building in Duane Street. All this promised well, but when thetime came and he was about to leave his office, his brother unexpectedlyappeared and asked for the key to their father's house. Disconcerted nodoubt by the appearance of the very person he least wished to see, andastonished by a request so out of keeping with all that had hithertopassed between them, he nevertheless was in too much haste to questionhim, so gave him what he wanted and Howard went away. As soon after ashe could lock his desk and don his hat, Franklin followed, and merelystopping to cover his coat with the old duster, he went out and hastenedtowards the place of meeting. Under most circumstances all this mighthave happened without the brothers encountering each other again, but atemporary obstruction on the sidewalk having, as we know, detainedHoward, Franklin was enabled to approach him sufficiently close to seehim draw his pocket-handkerchief out of his pocket, and with it the keyswhich he had just given him. The latter fell, and as there was a greatpounding of iron going on in the building just over their heads, Howarddid not perceive his loss but went quickly on. Franklin coming up behindhim picked up the keys, and with a thought, or perhaps as yet with nothought, of the use to which they might be applied, put them in his ownpocket before proceeding on his way.
"New York is a large place, and much can take place in it withoutcomment. Franklin Van Burnam and his sister-in-law met and went togetherto the Hotel D---- without being either recognized or suspected tilllater developments drew attention to them. That _she_ should consent toaccompany him to this place, and that after she was there should submit,as she did, to taking all the business of the scheme upon herself, wouldbe inconceivable in a woman of a self-respecting character; but LouiseVan Burnam cared for little save her own aggrandisement, and ratherenjoyed, so far as we can see, this very doubtful escapade, whose realmeaning and murderous purpose she was so far from understanding.
"As the steamer, contrary to all expectation, had not yet been sightedoff Fire Island, they took a room and prepared to wait for it. That is,_she_ prepared to wait. He had no intention of waiting for its arrivalor of going to it when it came; he only wanted his letter. But LouiseVan Burnam was not the woman to relinquish it till she had obtained theprice she had put on it, and he becoming very soon aware of this fact,began to ask himself if he should not be obliged to resort to extrememeasures in order to regain it. One chance only remained for avoidingthese. He would seem to embrace her later and probably much-talked-ofscheme of presenting herself before his father in his own house ratherthan at the steamer; and by urging her to make its success more certainby a different style of dress from that she wore, induce a change ofclothing, during which he might come upon the letter he was more thanconfident she carried about her person. Had this plan worked; had hebeen able to seize upon this compromising bit of paper, even at the costof a scratch or two from her vigorous fingers, we should not be sittinghere at this moment trying to account for the most complicated crime onrecord. But Louise Van Burnam, while weak and volatile enough to enjoythe romantic features of this transformation scene, even going so far asto write out the order herself with the same effort at disguise she hadused in registering their assumed names at the desk, was not entirelyhis dupe, and having hidden the letter in her shoe----"
"What!" I cried.
"_Having hidden the letter in her shoe_," repeated Mr. Gryce, with hisfinest smile, "she had but to signify that the boots sent by Altman werea size too small, for her to retain her secret and keep the one articleshe traded upon from his envious clutch. You seem struck dumb by this,Miss Butterworth. Have I enlightened you on a point that has hithertotroubled you?"
"Don't ask me; don't look at me." As if he ever looked at any one! "Yourperspicacity is amazing, but I will try and not show my sense of it, ifit is going to make you stop."
He smiled; the Inspector smiled: neither understood me.
"Very well then, I will go on; but the non-change of shoes had to beaccounted for, Miss Butterworth."
"You are right; and it _has_ been, of course."
"Have you any better explanation to give?"
I had, or thought I had, and the words trembled on my tongue. But Irestrained myself under an air of great impatience. "Time is flying!" Iurged, with as near a simulation of his own manner in saying the wordsas I could affect. "Go on, Mr. Gryce."
And he did, though my manner evidently puzzled him.
"Being foiled in this his last attempt, this smooth and diabolicalvillain hesitated no longer in carrying out the scheme which haddoubtless been maturing in his mind ever since he dropped the key of hisfather's house into his own pocket. His brother's wife must die, but notin a hotel room with him for a companion. Though scorned, detested, anda stumbling-block in the way of the whole family's future happiness andprosperity, she still was a Van Burnam, and no shadow must fall upon herreputation. Further than this, for he loved life and his own reputationalso, and did not mean to endanger either by this act ofself-preservation, she must perish as if from accident, or by some blowso undiscoverable that it would be laid to natural causes. He thought heknew how this might be brought about. He had seen her put on her hatwith a very thin and sharp pin, and he had heard how one thrust into acertain spot in the spine would effect death without a struggle. A woundlike that would be small; almost indiscernible. True it would take skillto inflict it, and it would require dissimulation to bring her into theproper position for the contemplated thrust; but he was not lacking ineither of these characteristics; and so he set himself to the task hehad promised himself, and with such success that ere long the two leftthe hotel and proceeded to the house in Gramercy Park with all thecaution necessary for preserving a secret which meant reputation to theone, and liberty, if not life, to the other. That he and not she feltthe greater need of secrecy, witness their whole conduct, and when,their goal reached, she and not he put the money into the driver's hand,the last act of this curious drama of opposing motives was reached, andonly the final catastrophe was wanting.
"With what arts he procured her hat-pin, and by what show of simulatedpassion he was able to approach near enough to her to inflict that cooland calculating thrust which resulted in her immediate death, I leave to_your_ imagination. Enough that he compassed his ends, killing her andregaining the letter for the possession of which he had been willing totake a life. Afterwards----"
"Well, afterwards?"
"The deed he had thought so complete began to assume a different aspect.The pin had broken in the wound, and, knowing the scrutiny which thebody would receive at the hands of a Coroner's jury, he began to seewhat consequences might follow its discovery. So to hide that wound andgive to her death the wished-for appearan
ce of accident, he went backand drew down the cabinet under which she was found. Had he done this atonce his hand in the tragedy might have escaped detection, but hewaited, and by waiting allowed the blood-vessels to stiffen and allthat phenomena to become apparent by means of which the eyes of thephysicians were opened to the fact that they must search deeper for thecause of death than the bruises she had received. Thus it is thatJustice opens loop-holes in the finest web a criminal can weave."
"A just remark, Mr. Gryce, but in this fine-spun web of _your_ weaving,you have not explained how the clock came to be running and to stop atfive."
"Cannot you see? A man capable of such a crime would not forget toprovide himself with an alibi. He expected to be in his rooms at five,so before pulling down the shelves at three or four, he wound the clockand set it at an hour when he could bring forward testimony to his beingin another place. Is not such a theory consistent with his character andwith the skill he has displayed from the beginning to the end of thiswoful affair?"
Aghast at the deftness with which this able detective explained everydetail of this crime by means of a theory necessarily hypothetical ifthe discoveries I had made in the matter were true, and for the momentsubjected to the overwhelming influence of his enthusiasm, I sat in amaze, asking myself if all the seemingly irrefutable evidence upon whichmen had been convicted in times gone by was as false as this. To relievemyself and to gain renewed confidence in my own views and thediscoveries I had made in this matter, I repeated the name of Howard,and asked how, in case the whole crime was conceived and perpetrated byhis brother, he came to utter such equivocations and to assume thatposition of guilt which had led to his own arrest.
"Do you think," I inquired, "that he was aware of his brother's part inthis affair, and that out of compassion for him he endeavored to takethe crime upon his own shoulders?"
"No, madam. Men of the world do not carry their disinterestedness sofar. He not only did not know the part his brother took in this crime,but did not even suspect it, or why acknowledge that he lost the key bywhich the house was entered?"
"I do not understand Howard's actions, even under these circumstances.They seem totally inconsistent to me."
"Madam, they are easily explainable to one who knows the character ofhis mind. He prizes his honor above every consideration, and regarded itas threatened by the suggestion that his wife had entered his father'sempty house at midnight with another man. To save himself that shame, hewas willing not only to perjure himself, but to take upon himself theconsequences of his perjury. Quixotic, certainly, but some men areconstituted that way, and he, for all his amiable characteristics, isthe most dogged man I ever encountered. That he ran against snags in hisattempted explanations, seemed to make no difference to him. He wasbound that no one should accuse him of marrying a false woman, even ifhe must bear the opprobrium of her death. It is hard to understand sucha nature, but re-read his testimony, and see if this explanation of hisconduct is not correct."
And still I mechanically repeated: "I do not understand."
Mr. Gryce may not have been a patient man under all circumstances, buthe was patient with me that day.
"It was his ignorance, Miss Butterworth, his total ignorance of thewhole affair that led him into the inconsistencies he manifested. Let mepresent his case as I already have his brother's. He knew that his wifehad come to New York to appeal to his father, and he gathered from whatshe said that she intended to do this either in his house or on thedock. To cut short any opportunity she might have for committing thefirst folly, he begged the key of the house from his brother, and,supposing that he had it all right, went to his rooms, not to ConeyIsland as he said, and began to pack up his trunks. For he meant to fleethe country if his wife disgraced him. He was tired of her caprices andmeant to cut them short as far as he was himself concerned. But thestriking of the midnight hour brought better counsel. He began to wonderwhat she had been doing in his absence. Going out, he haunted the regionof Gramercy Park for the better part of the night, and at daybreakactually mounted the steps of his father's house and prepared to enterit by means of the key he had obtained from his brother. But the key wasnot in his pocket, so he came down again and walked away, attracting theattention of Mr. Stone as he did so. The next day he heard of thetragedy which had taken place within those very walls; and though hisfirst fears led him to believe that the victim was his wife, a sight ofher clothes naturally dispelled this apprehension, for he knew nothingof her visit to the Hotel D---- or of the change in her habilimentswhich had taken place there. His father's persistent fears and the quietpressure brought to bear upon him by the police only irritated him, andnot until confronted by the hat found on the scene of death, an articleonly too well known as his wife's, did he yield to the accumulatedevidence in support of her identity. Immediately he felt the full forceof his unkindness towards her, and rushing to the Morgue had her poorbody taken to that father's house and afterwards given a decent burial.But he could not accept the shame which this acknowledgment naturallybrought with it, and, blind to all consequences, insisted, when broughtup again for examination, that he was the man with whom she came to thatlonely house. The difficulties into which this plunged him were partlyforeseen and partly prepared for, and he showed some skill insurmounting them. But falsehoods never fit like truths, and we all feltthe strain on our credulity as he met and attempted to parry theCoroner's questions.
"And now, Miss Butterworth, let me again ask if your turn has not comeat last for adding the sum of your evidence to ours against Franklin VanBurnam?"
It had; I could not deny it, and as I realized that with it had alsocome the opportunity for justifying the pretensions I had made, I raisedmy head with suitable spirit and, after a momentary pause for thepurpose of making my words the more impressive, I asked:
"And what has made you think that _I_ was interested in fixing the guilton Franklin Van Burnam?"