XX
THE INITIALED HANDKERCHIEF
The funeral of Robert Pembroke was to be held Saturday afternoon. Theman had so few friends that elaborate services were not arranged for.Indeed it was to take place from the mortuary chapel, and woulddoubtless be attended by a very small assembly.
Of course Laura and I would go, out of respect for our friends, althoughwe had never known Mr. Pembroke himself.
I did not see Janet before I went downtown Saturday morning, as Laurawas taking great care of the girl, and never allowed her to appear earlyin the morning.
When I reached my office, I found a letter which was signed JamesDecker.
It was a bit illiterate, but it revealed to me the fact that its writerhad attended the National Theatre on the night of October sixteenth andas he had occupied a seat H 3, he was behind G 3, he wanted very much toknow in what way it was to his advantage to announce the fact to me.
I telephoned Mr. Decker at the address he gave, and he agreed to come tosee me within the next hour.
He came very soon, and entirely fulfilled the mental picture I hadalready drawn of him. Flashy clothing, red necktie and hat on the backof his head were his distinguishing characteristics, with voice andmanner to correspond.
"What's up, pard?" was his unduly familiar greeting, but though I didnot respond in his vernacular, I had no wish to criticise it.
I explained to him that I wanted to know anything he could tell me aboutthe occupants of seats one and three G on the night in question.
"Sure, I can tell ye all about 'em," he declared; "they was pals ofmine, Billy Rivers and Bob Pierson. They was eight of us went, and wehad aisle seats of four rows, right in front of each other. What aboutthem two chaps? they're all right, Guv'nor, I'll go bail for that!"
"I've no doubt of it, Mr. Decker," I responded, heartily; "and as thisis just a little private matter between you and me, I'm going to ask youfor their addresses, but I am going to assure you that this will getthem into no trouble, unless they deserve it; and that if you so desire,your name need not be mentioned in the matter."
"Great Mackerel! I don't care how much you mention my name, and like'snot Bob and Bill won't care either. They're straight, mister, good palsand good men."
There was something about the candid gaze of Decker that made me feelconfidence in his words. I had a conviction then and there, that whoevermurdered Robert Pembroke it was neither Bob nor Bill, the good friendsof James Decker. But in a way, it was a disappointment, for it onlyproved one more clue worthless. Where those two ticket stubs came from,or how they got into Robert Pembroke's bedroom, I didn't then stop tothink; although I had hazy ideas of tracing some sort of connection withthe elevator boy or janitor and these people. But for the moment, all Icould do was to take these men's addresses, and present Mr. Decker witha sufficient honorarium to pay him for the trouble and exertion ofcoming to see me.
I went home at noon, pondering over those ticket stubs. After all,perhaps I had been terribly taken in. Perhaps this Decker man made upthe whole story for the purpose of getting the fee which he knew I waspretty sure to give him. Perhaps his two pals were as imaginary as theywere good, and perhaps he was only a clever adventurer who had succeededin fooling a less clever lawyer! Well at any rate, I had done no harm,and I had the men's addresses. Later on, I would tell the DistrictAttorney the whole story, and if he chose to follow it up he could doso.
From the funeral of Robert Pembroke I went straight to the DistrictAttorney's office.
I had come to the conclusion that I must do something, and that I mustdo it quickly. I knew Buckner was only waiting till the funeral was overto push his investigations; and I knew too, that unless some newevidence was forthcoming from somewhere, his procedure must inevitablyresult in the arrest of Janet.
I must find that new evidence, which must at least turn the trend ofsuspicion in some other direction. I could think only of thehandkerchief that I had found in Mr. Pembroke's bedroom. This had neverbeen accounted for in any way, and surely it must mean something.
The other articles I had found had proved of little value so far. Theticket stubs promised little or nothing, for I could not feel that theman Decker or his friends were implicated. The time-table gave me noidea of where to look for any clue. It was useless to refer it to theLackawanna Railroad. Moreover, East Lynnwood was not on that road, norwas Utica, and these were the only two places that had so much as beenmentioned in connection with the affair.
The torn telegram, in connection with the letter, seemed to meannothing; or if it did, it pointed toward Janet's deception in regard toit.
The money was gone, and that, too, in the minds of some people, againsuggested Janet's wrong-doing. The key, while it might seem to implicateLeroy, was far from being a definite clue, and if it meant Leroy, itmight also mean Janet's complicity.
The hair-pin I left out of consideration, and as a last resort, Idetermined to run down the owner of that handkerchief.
I rehearsed all these conclusions to the District Attorney, and hesmiled a little superciliously. It is strange how the police officialsscorn the interesting clues so beloved of the detective mind.
However, Buckner said nothing in opposition to my plan, and at myrequest handed me the handkerchief. We had little conversation but itwas plain to be seen that he was assured of Janet's guilt and saw noother direction in which to look for the criminal.
"Go ahead and investigate that handkerchief business," he said, "butyou'll find it leads to nothing. That handkerchief might have been leftthere by any caller during the last week or so; and as we know Mr.Pembroke had frequent callers, that is of course the explanation."
I couldn't believe this, because, though now crumpled from passingthrough many hands, when I had found the handkerchief it wascomparatively fresh, and looked as if it had but just been shaken fromits laundered folds. This would seem to indicate that it had not been inthe room long, and moreover had it been left there several days before,it would have been found by Charlotte or by Janet, and laid aside to berestored to its owner.
I put it in my pocket, and after a short further conversation with Mr.Buckner, I was convinced afresh of Janet's impending danger, so that Iwent away spurred to my utmost endeavor to find some new information.
I examined the handkerchief carefully, but saw only what I had alreadyobserved; that it was unusually fine and dainty for a man's possession,and that the embroidered letters were of exquisite workmanship andunique design.
I took a taxicab and began a systematic canvass of the best shops in thecity that provided wearing apparel for fastidious men.
The results were not encouraging. One after another, the haberdashersinformed me that the handkerchief had not come from their shops.Indeed, they opined that the work had not been done in this country, butthat the handkerchief had been bought abroad. However, as I was about togive up my search, one interested shopkeeper told me of a small and veryexclusive establishment from which that handkerchief might have beenobtained.
With my hopes a trifle buoyed up, I went at once to the address givenme, and to my delight the affable cleric recognized the handkerchief.
"Yes," he said, "that is one of ours. We have them hand-embroidered forone of our best customers. He has used that design for many years. Didhe recommend you to come here?"
"No," said I, "I'm not ordering handkerchiefs for myself. Moreover, Iwas not sent here by the owner of this one, nor do I know his name. Areyou willing to tell it to me?"
"I see no reason why I shouldn't. That handkerchief belongs to Mr.Gresham,--William Sydney Gresham. It is one of the best bits of work weever put out, and we are a little proud of it."
"It's beautiful work," I agreed, "and now will you give me Mr. Gresham'saddress?"
Although not especially keen-witted, the clerk looked a little surprisedat this, and hesitated for a moment. But when I told him that the matterwas important, he made no further objection, and gave me Mr. Gresham'sclub address.
Needle
ss to say I went directly there, and by good luck I found Mr.Gresham, pleasantly passing the before dinner hour with some of hisfriends.
I went to him, introduced myself and asked for a moment's privateconversation. He looked surprised, but consented, and with a courteousmanner led me to a small room, where we were alone.
"Be seated, Mr. Landon," he said, pleasantly; "what can I do for you?"
He was a handsome man and well set up. He was especially well dressed,in clothes of English cut, and his whole appearance showed attention todetails. His face betokened a strong, manly character and his gaze wasclear and straightforward.
Without preliminaries, I showed him the handkerchief and said, simply,"Is this your handkerchief, Mr. Gresham?"
"It certainly is," he said, taking the linen square, and glancing at theletters; "did you find it? I thank you very much for restoring myproperty,--though of no great value."
"Had you missed it?" I said, looking at him closely.
"Bless my soul, no! A man has several handkerchiefs, you know, and Idare say I might lose two or three without missing them. Excuse me, Mr.Landon, but aren't you attaching undue importance to such a trifle as alost handkerchief?"
"I don't know yet, Mr. Gresham, whether this particular loss of yourswill prove to be a trifling matter or not. Do you know Robert Pembroke?"
"The man who was murdered a few days ago?"
"Yes."
"No, I never knew him; but I read in the papers of the poor fellow'sdeath and thought it most shocking. I trust they will discover themurderer and avenge the crime."
If Mr. Gresham were implicated in the affair, he certainly carried offthis conversation with a fine composure. But I resolved to startle hiscalm if I could.
"Then can you explain, Mr. Gresham," I said, "how this handkerchief ofyours happened to be found on the bed of the murdered man the morningafter the murder?"
"Great Heavens, no! nor do I believe it was found there!"
"But it was, for I myself found it."
"My handkerchief! In Mr. Pembroke's bedroom! Impossible!"
The man spoke with an angry inflection and a rising color, and Iwatched him narrowly. Either this was the just indignation of aninnocent man, or else it was the carefully rehearsed dissimulation of aclever wrong-doer. My instinct and my reason told me he was innocent,but my inclinations so strongly hoped for some hint of his guilt, that Ipersevered.
"Yes, Mr. Gresham, I found it in that room, and on that bed in less thantwelve hours after Mr. Pembroke was killed."
"You did! and you think therefore that I killed him, or at least that Iwas in his room! Why, man, I have already told you that I never knew Mr.Pembroke, and have certainly never been to his house, nor do I even knowwhere he lives!"
This was all very well if it were true, but how was I to know whetherthis fine gentleman were lying or not. To be sure his face, voice andmanner gave every effect of outraged innocence, but was that not justwhat a clever criminal would show?
"Where were you late last Wednesday night?" I asked him bluntly.
"By Jove! I don't know! I may have been in a dozen places. I go where Ichoose, and I don't keep a diary of my doings!"
"But try to think, Mr. Gresham," I said, more gently; "were you here atthis club?"
"I may have been and I may not. I may have been motoring, or dining out,or at the theatre, or anywhere. I tell you I don't know where I was."
"It will be to your own interest to remember," I said, speakingsternly, for now I began to suspect the man.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because when a man's handkerchief is found under such circumstances, itis advisable for the man to prove that he was not there too."
"Lest I be suspected of the murder of a man whom I never saw, and nevereven heard of until after he was dead?"
"We have only your own word for that," I returned, coldly; "but therather definite clue of your handkerchief found in Mr. Pembroke'sbedroom requires investigation, and I am here for that purpose."
"The deuce you are! Well, Mr. Landon, you are barking up the wrong tree!May I refer you to my man of business, and ask you to excuse me from afurther discussion of this matter?"
"You may not! I am here, Mr. Gresham, if not exactly in an officialcapacity, yet with the authority of a lawyer employed on this case. Andif I may advise you, merely as man to man, I think it will be betterfor you to question your memory a little more closely, and endeavor torecollect where you were on Wednesday night."
"Oh, suppose I can hark back to it. Let me see; I believe I motored upto Greenwich for the night. No, that was Tuesday night. And Thursdaynight I went to the theatre. Well, then it must have been Wednesdaynight that I was at the Hardings' to dinner. Yes, I was. I dined at thehome of James S. Harding. And that you can verify from him. Now are yousatisfied?"
"What time did you leave Mr. Harding's?"
"I don't know; about eleven or twelve, I suppose."
"And then where did you go?"
"Good Heavens! I can't remember every corner I turned! I think I stoppedhere at the Club before I went to my diggings; yes I'm sure I did."
"Then there must be Club members, or even stewards by whom you can provean alibi."
"Prove an alibi! Look here, Mr. Landon, I positively refuse to carrythis conversation further. I know nothing of your Mr. Pembroke or of hismurderer. I know nothing about that handkerchief, which you say youfound there, except the fact that it is mine. Now if your people want toarrest me, let them come and do it; but until they do, kindly spare mefurther questioning, which I do not admit to be within your rights.Allow me to wish you good morning."
Though most anxious to believe this man guilty, it was difficult to doso, and yet I was quite willing to believe that his somewhatgrandiloquent attitude was all a bluff. However, I had found the ownerof the handkerchief, and I had learned all I could from him. And so,with a conventional leave-taking, I left him and went home.