Page 12 of A Chain of Evidence


  XII

  JANET IS OUR GUEST

  Ah, so the blow had fallen! He definitely suspected Janet, and, besidesthe point of evidence, opportunity, he condemned her in his own mindbecause a hat-pin pointed to a woman's work. He didn't tell me this inso many words--he didn't have to. I read from his face, and from his airof finality, that he was convinced of Janet's guilt, either with orwithout Charlotte's assistance.

  And I must admit, that in all my thought and theory, in all myimagination and visioning, in all my conclusions and deductions, I hadentirely lost sight of the weapon, and of the fact that the Inspectorstated so tersely, that it was a woman's weapon. It _was_ a woman'sweapon, and it suddenly seemed to me that all my carefully builtair-castles went crashing down beneath the blow!

  "Well," I said, "Inspector, if you can't find the other half of the pin,it seems to me to prove that an intruder not only came in, but went awayagain, carrying that tell-tale pin-head with him,--or with her, if youprefer it. I suppose there are other women in the world, beside the ladyyou are so unjustly suspecting, and I suppose, too, if an intrudersucceeded in getting in here, it might equally well have been a woman asa man."

  Inspector Crawford growled an inaudible reply, but I gathered that hedid not agree with me in any respect.

  "And then again, Inspector," I went on, determined to talk to him whileI had the chance, "if there was no intruder, where, in your opinion, doall those clues point to? Mr. Lawrence thinks them of little value, butas a detective, I'm sure you rate them more highly. Granting the hat-pinindicates a woman's work, what about the man's handkerchief?"

  "No clues mean anything until they are run down," said Mr. Crawford,looking at me gravely; "I'm not sure that the handkerchief and ticketstubs and time-table, and all those things, weren't the property of Mr.Pembroke; but the only way to be sure is to trace them to their owner,and this is the next step that ought to be taken. This is not a simplecase, Mr. Landon; it grows more complex every minute. And pleaseremember I have not said I suspect Miss Pembroke, either of guilt or ofcomplicity. She may be entirely innocent. But you must admit that thereis sufficient circumstantial evidence to warrant our keeping her inview."

  "There isn't any evidence at all, circumstantial or otherwise, againsther!" I declared, hotly; "you merely mean that she was in this apartmentand so had opportunity to kill her uncle if she wanted to. But, Irepeat, you haven't a shred or a vestige of evidence,--realevidence,--against her."

  "Well, we may have, after some further investigation. As you know, thewhole matter rests now for a few days; at any rate, until after thefuneral of Mr. Pembroke, and until after the return of Mr. Leroy."

  "Do you know Graham Leroy?" I asked, suddenly.

  It must have been my tone that betrayed my desire to turn suspicion inany new direction, for the Inspector's grey eyes gleamed at me shrewdly."Don't let any foolishness of that kind run away with your wits," hesaid; "Graham Leroy is too prominent a man to go around killing people."

  "That may be so; but prominence doesn't always preclude wrong doing," Isaid, rather sententiously.

  "Well, don't waste time on Leroy. Follow up your clues and see wherethey lead you. Greater mysteries than this have been solved by means ofeven more trivial things than a handkerchief and a few bits of paper. Tomy mind, the absence of the other half of that hat-pin is the mostremarkable clue we have yet stumbled upon. Why should the murdererbreak it off and carry it away with her?"

  "The doctors have explained that because it was broken off, it almostdisappeared from sight; and had it done so, the crime might never havebeen suspected. Surely this is reason enough for the criminal to takethe broken pin away."

  The Inspector nodded his head. "Sure," he agreed. "With the spectacularhat-pins the women wear nowadays it might have proved an easy thing totrace. However, it is necessary that I search all the rooms of thisapartment for it."

  This speech sent a shock through my whole being. I had searched theapartment, but it had been merely with the idea of noting the windowfastenings, and looking for a possible villain hidden among thedraperies. I had not thought of a search of personal belongings, or ofprying into the boxes or bureau-drawers. And that odious Inspectordoubtless meant that he would search Janet's room,--and for thathat-pin! Suppose he found it! But I would not allow myself suchdisloyalty even in imagination.

  Changing the subject, I said, "do you think that key they found is Mr.Pembroke's?"

  "I don't think anything about it, it isn't a matter of opinion. That keybelonged either to the deceased or to somebody else. It's up to us tofind out which, and not to wonder or think or imagine who it might,could, would or should have belonged to!"

  Clearly, the Inspector was growing testy. I fancied he was not making asrapid progress as he had hoped, and I knew, too, he was greatlychagrined at not finding the pin. As he would probably immediately setabout searching the whole place, and as I had no wish to accompany himon his prying into Janet's personal effects, I concluded to go home.

  Sad at heart, I turned away from my unsuccessful search for clues, and,bidding good-by to George Lawrence and to the officials who were stillin charge of the place, I crossed to my own apartment.

  The contrast between the gruesome scenes I had just left and the cheery,pleasant picture that met my eyes as I entered thrilled me with a newand delightful sensation.

  To see Janet Pembroke sitting in my own library, in one of my own easychairs, gave me a cozy, homelike impression quite different from that ofLaura's always busy presence around the house.

  Miss Pembroke smiled as I entered, and held out her hand to me.

  "Mrs. Mulford has been so good to me," she said. "She is treating memore like a sister than a guest, and I am not used to such kind care."

  Although I was fascinated by Janet's smile and tone, I was againsurprised at her sudden change of demeanor. She seemed bright and almosthappy. What was the secret of a nature that could thus apparently throwoff the effects of a recent dreadful experience and assume the air of agentle society girl without a care in the world?

  But I met her on her own grounds, and, shaking hands cordially, Iexpressed my pleasure at seeing her under my roof-tree.

  She suddenly became more serious, and said thoughtfully:

  "I don't see what I can do, or where I can live. I can't go back tothose rooms across the hall"--she gave a slight shudder--"and I can'tlive with Cousin George now, and I can't live alone. Perhaps MillyWaring would take me in for a time."

  "Miss Pembroke," I said, "I am, as you know, your counsel, and as such Imust have a very serious talk with you."

  "But not now," broke in Laura; "Miss Pembroke is not going to bebothered by any more serious talk until after she has eaten something.Luncheon is all ready, and we were only waiting for you to come, to haveit served."

  I was quite willing to defer the conversation, and, moreover, was quiteready myself for rest and refreshment.

  Notwithstanding the surcharged atmosphere, the meal was a pleasant one.Laura's unfailing tact prevented any awkwardness, and as we all threeseemed determined not to refer to the events of the morning, theconversation was light and agreeable, though desultory.

  "I wish I had asked Mr. Lawrence to come over to luncheon, too," saidLaura. "Poor man, he must be nearly starved."

  "Oh, George will look out for himself," said Janet. "But I hope he willcome back here this afternoon, as I must talk to him about my futurehome."

  "Miss Pembroke," I said, feeling that the subject could be evaded nolonger, "I hope you can make yourself contented to stay here with mysister and myself for a time, at least. Of course it is merely nominal,but you must understand that you are detained, and that I, as yourlawyer, am responsible for your appearance."

  "Do you mean," asked Janet in her calm way, "that I'm under arrest?"

  "Not that exactly," I explained. "Indeed, it is not in any sense arrest;you are merely held in detention, in my custody. I do not apprehend thatyour appearance in court will be necessary, but it
is my duty to be ableto produce you if called for."

  Seeing that the serious consideration of Janet's affairs could be putoff no longer, Laura proposed that we adjourn to the library and haveour talk there.

  "And I want to say, first of all," she began, "that I invite you, MissPembroke, to stay here for a time as my guest, without any question ofnominal detention or any of that foolishness. Otis may be your counsel,and may look after your business affairs, but I am your hostess, and I'mgoing to take care of you and entertain you. If you are in any one'scustody you are in mine, and I promise to 'produce you when you arecalled for.'"

  If ever I saw gratitude on any human face, it appeared on JanetPembroke's then. She grasped Laura by both hands, and the tears came toher eyes as she thanked my sister for her whole-souled kindness to anentire stranger.

  "Surely," I thought to myself, "this is the real woman, after all; thisgrateful, sunny, warm-hearted nature is the real one. I do notunderstand the coldness and hardness that sometimes comes into her face,but I shall yet learn what it means. I have two problems before me; oneto discover who killed Robert Pembroke, and the other to find thesolution of that delightful mystery, Janet Pembroke herself."

  I could see that Laura, too, had fallen completely under the spell ofJanet's charm, and, though she also was mystified at the girl's suddenchanges of manner, she thoroughly believed in her, and offered herfriendship without reserve. As for myself, I was becoming moreinfatuated every moment. Indeed, so sudden and complete had been mycapitulation that had I been convinced beyond all doubt of Janet'sguilt, I should still have loved her.

  But as I was by no means convinced of it, my duty lay along the line ofthorough investigation.

  It having been settled, therefore, that Janet should remain with us fora time, I proceeded at once to ask her a few important questions, that Imight at least outline my plan of defence, even before the real need ofa defence had arisen.

  "Of course you know, Miss Pembroke," said I, "that, as your lawyer, Ishall do everything I can for you in this matter; but I want you to feelalso that I take a personal interest in the case, and I hope you willtrust me implicitly and give me your unlimited confidence."

  "You mean," said Janet, who had again assumed her inscrutableexpression, "that I must tell you the truth?"

  I felt a little repulsed by her haughty way of speaking, and, too, Islightly dreaded the revelations she might be about to make; but Ianswered gravely: "Yes, as my client you must tell me the absolutetruth. You must state the facts as you know them."

  "Then I have simply nothing to tell you," said Janet and her face hadthe cold immobility of a marble statue.

  "Perhaps I had better not stay with you during this conversation," saidLaura, looking disturbed.

  "Oh, do stay!" cried Janet, clasping her hands, as if in dismay. "I havenothing to say to Mr. Landon that you may not hear. Indeed, I havenothing to say at all."

  "But you must confide in me, Miss Pembroke," I insisted. "I can donothing for you if you do not."

  "You can do nothing for me if I do," she said, and her words struck achill to my heart. Laura, too, gave a little shiver and seemedinstinctively to draw slightly away from Janet.

  "I mean," Miss Pembroke went on hastily, "that I have nothing to tellyou other than I have already told. I _did_ put the chain on and putout the lights last night at eleven o'clock. I _did_ fasten all of thewindows--all of them. Charlotte _did_ unfasten some of the windowsbetween seven and eight this morning; she _did_ unchain and open thedoor at about eight o'clock. Those are all the facts I know of. I didnot kill Uncle Robert, and, of course, Charlotte did not."

  "How do you know Charlotte did not?" I asked.

  "Only because the idea is absurd. Charlotte has been with us but a shorttime, and expected to leave soon, any way. My uncle had been cross toher, but not sufficiently so to make her desire to kill him. He nevertreated her like he treated me!"

  The tone, even more than the words, betrayed a deep resentment of heruncle's treatment of her, and as I found I must put my questions verydefinitely to get any information whatever, I made myself say: "Did you,then, ever desire to kill him?"

  Janet Pembroke looked straight at me, and as she spoke a growing look ofhorror came into her eyes.

  "I have promised to be truthful," she said, "so I must tell you thatthere have been moments when I have felt the impulse to kill UncleRobert; but it was merely a passing impulse, the result of my ownalmost uncontrollable temper. The thought always passed as quickly as itcame, but since you ask, I must admit that several times it did come."

  Laura threw her arms around Janet with a hearty caress, which I knew wasmeant as an atonement for the shadow of doubt she had recently felt.

  "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "And it is your supersensitive honesty thatmakes you confess to that momentary impulse! Any one so instinctivelytruthful is incapable of more than a fleeting thought of such a wrong."

  I think that at that moment I would have given half my fortune to feelas Laura did; but what Janet had said did not seem to me so utterlyconclusive of her innocence. Indeed, I could not evade an impressionthat sudden and violent anger was often responsible for crime, and incase of a fit of anger intense enough to amount practically to insanity,might it not mean the involuntary and perhaps unremembered commission ofa fatal deed? This, however, I immediately felt to be absurd. For,though a crime might be committed on the impulse of a sudden insanity ofanger, it could not be done unconsciously. Therefore, if Janet Pembrokewas guilty of her uncle's death, directly or indirectly, she was tellinga deliberate falsehood; and if she was not guilty, then the case was amystery that seemed insoluble. But insoluble it should not remain. I wasdetermined to pluck the heart out of this mystery if it were in power ofmortal man to do so. I would spare no effort, no trouble, no expense.And yet, like a flash, I foresaw that one of two things must inevitablyhappen: should I be able to prove Janet innocent, she should betriumphantly acquitted before the world; but if, on the contrary, therewas proof to convince even me of her guilt, she must still be acquitted_before the world_! I was not so inexperienced in my profession as notto know just what this meant to myself and to my career, but I acceptedthe situation, and was willing, if need be, to take the consequences.

  These thoughts had crowded upon me so thick and fast that I wasunconscious of the long pause in the conversation, until I was recalledto myself by an instinctive knowledge that Janet was gazing at me.Meeting her eyes suddenly, I encountered a look that seemed to imply thevery depths of sorrow, despair, and remorse.

  "You don't believe in me," she said, "and your sister does. Why do youdoubt my word?"

  I had rapidly come to the conclusion that the only possible attitude toadopt toward the strange nature with which I had to deal was that ofdirect plainness.

  "My sister, being a woman, is naturally guided and influenced by herintuitions," I said; "I, not only as a man but as a lawyer, undertakinga serious case, am obliged to depend upon the facts which I observe formyself, and the facts which I gather from the statements of my client."

  "But you don't believe the facts I state," said Janet and now her toneacquired a petulance, as of a pouting child.

  I was annoyed at this, and began to think that I had to deal with adozen different natures in one, and could never know which would appearuppermost. I returned to my inquisition.

  "Why do you think Charlotte could not have done this thing?" I asked,although I had asked this before.

  "Because she had no motive," said Janet briefly.

  This was surprising in its implication, but I went doggedly on:

  "Who, then, had a motive?"

  "I can think of no one except George Lawrence and myself." The troubledair with which Janet said this seemed in no way to implicate either hercousin or herself, but rather suggested to me that she had beenpondering the subject, and striving to think of some one else who mighthave had a motive.

  "And you didn't do it," I said, partly by way of amends for my owndoubtful a
ttitude, "and George Lawrence couldn't get in the apartment,unless----"

  "Unless what?" asked Janet, looking steadily at me.

  "Unless you or Charlotte let him in."

  I was uncertain how Janet would take this speech. I even feared shemight fly into a rage at my suggestion, but, to my surprise, sheanswered me very quietly, and with a look of perplexity: "No, I didn'tdo that, and I'm sure Charlotte didn't either. She had no motive."

  Again that insistence on motive.

  "Then the facts," I said bluntly, "narrow themselves down to these. Yousay that you know of only yourself and Mr. Lawrence to whom motive mightbe attributed. Evidence shows only yourself and Charlotte to have hadopportunity. Believing, as I thoroughly do, that no one of the threecommitted the murder, it shall be my task to discover some otherindividual to whom a motive can be ascribed, and who can be proved tohave had opportunity."

  At this speech Janet's face lighted up with a brightness that was like aglory. A look of relief, hope, and gladness came into her eyes, and sobeautiful did she appear that again I said to myself that this wasindeed her real nature; that she had been nearly tortured to death byher dreadful uncle, and that when the mystery was solved and thedreadful tragedy a thing of the past this was the way she would appearalways. More than ever I determined to find out the truth, and bring tojustice the evil-doer. Alas! how little I thought what would be the sadresult of my search for truth!