CHAPTER XIII Pennington Wise
When Mary Pennington married a man named Wise, it was not at all anunusual impulse that prompted her to name her first born son after herown family name, and so Pennington Wise came into being.
Then, of course, it followed, as the night the day, that his school chumsshould call him Penny Wise, which name stuck to him through life. Whetherthis significant name was the cause of his becoming a detective is notdefinitely known, but a detective he did grow up to be, and a good one,too. Eccentric, of course, what worthwhile detective is not? But clearcut of brain, mind and intelligence. And always on the lookout for aninteresting case, for he would engage in no others.
Wherefore, his persistence in desiring to investigate the strangemysteries of Black Aspens won the day against Milly's endeavours toprevent his coming. She had done all she could, and most of the houseparty had aided her efforts, but Professor Hardwick had become imbuedwith the idea that there was human agency at work, and that his belief inspiritual visitation, honest though it had been, was doomed to a speedydeath, unless further proof could be shown.
Norma, too, was rather inclined to welcome a specialist in the solving ofmysterious problems, and in conference with the Professor agreed to doall she could to help the Wise man in his work.
Norma was still of the opinion that the two tragic deaths were the workof evil spirits, but if it were not so, she wanted to know it.
But the principal reason why Pennington Wise came to Black Aspens was hisown determination to do so. He had never heard of such an unusual andweird mystery, and it whetted his curiosity by its strange and almostunbelievable details.
The opposing party gave in gracefully, when they found his advent wasinevitable. All but Milly, that is. She spent her time alternately cryingher heart out in Wynne's arms, and bracing herself up for a calm andindifferent attitude before the new investigator.
"Keep a stiff upper lip," Braye advised her. "Remember not to give outany information, Milly. Let him find out all he can, but don't help him."
"All right, Rudolph; and, anyway, I know Wynne is innocent,----"
"Of course he is! That goes without saying. But if he is suspected, say,if Stebbins or Thorpe or anybody else puts Wise up to suspicion, it maymean a bad quarter of an hour for all of us. So, just be quiet,dignified, pleasant-mannered and all that, but don't say anythingdefinite. For it might be misconstrued and misunderstood, and maketrouble. At least, that's the course I'm going to pursue, and I thinkit's the best plan."
"Oh, I know it is," Milly agreed. "In fact, that's just about what Wynnetold me; he thinks if I try to help, I'll only make mistakes, so he, too,told me to keep quiet. Eve is awfully angry, because that man is coming.She's not saying so, but I know her! And, Rudolph, she's afraid ofsomething. I don't know what, exactly, but she's fearfully afraid ofdevelopments."
"We all are, Milly. If the detective pins it on any human being,--thatmeans trouble, and if he decides it's spooks, after all,--I think I'll bemore afraid of them than ever!"
"I can't be any more afraid of them than I am!" Milly shuddered. "Oh,Rudolph, how I wish we had never come up here!"
"We all wish that, Milly, but as we're in for it now, we must see itthrough."
Pennington Wise arrived the next afternoon. He came into the hall like anarmy with banners. A tall, well set-up man, of about thirty-three orfour, thick chestnut hair, worn a la brosse, clear blue eyes, aclean-cut, fine-featured face, and a manner that proclaimed generalshipand efficiency to the last degree.
"Here I am," he announced, setting down several pieces of hand luggageand whipping off his soft gray felt hat. "You are the hostess?"
His quick-darting eyes had picked out Milly, and he greeted her as adistinguished visitor might.
"Who is that?" exclaimed Milly, looking at a slight, black-haired girlwho followed quietly in Wise's footsteps.
"That? oh that's Zizi,--part of my luggage. Put her any place. Is there ahousekeeper person? Yes? Well, turn Zizi over to her, she'll be allright."
Hester was peeping in at a rear door, unable to restrain her curiosity asto the commotion, and Zizi glided toward her and disappeared in theshadows.
"Now," said Wise, his quick smile flashing inclusively at all of them,"we must get acquainted. I'm Penny Wise, and all possible jokes on myname have already been made, so that's all right. I know Mrs. Landon, andyou, of course," looking at Wynne, "are her husband. Professor Hardwick,"and he bowed slightly, "is the man with whom I have had a shortcorrespondence regarding my coming here. You, sir,----" he lookedinquiringly at Braye.
"I'm Rudolph Braye, nephew of Mr. Gifford Bruce, and present heir to hisfortune." The quiet sadness of Braye's tone precluded any idea of histriumph of exultation at the fact he stated. "This," he went on, "is theReverend Mr. Tracy, a friend of us all. And these ladies are MissCarnforth and Miss Cameron, both deeply interested in the solution of themysteries that confront us. Since introductions are in order, may Iinquire further concerning the young lady,--or child,--who accompaniedyou?"
"Zizi? She's part of my working outfit. In fact, one of my principal bitsof paraphernalia. I always use her on mysterious cases. Don't look on heras an individual, please, she's a property,--in the theatrical sense, Imean."
"But her standing in the household?" asked Milly, "does she belong withthe servants, or in here with us?"
"She'll look after that herself," and Penny Wise smiled. "Pay no moreattention to her than you would to my umbrella or walking stick. Now weknow each others' names, let's proceed to the case itself. Who is goingto tell me all about it?"
"Which of us would you rather have do so?" asked Eve, her long,glittering eyes fixed on the detective's face.
He glanced at her quickly, and then let his gaze continue to rest on herbeautiful, sibylline countenance.
"Not you," he said, "you are too--well, I suppose the word I must use istemperamental, but it's a word I hate."
"Why?" asked the Professor, "what do you mean by temperamental?"
"That's the trouble," smiled Wise. "It doesn't mean anything. Strictlyspeaking, every one has temperament of one sort or another, but it hascome to mean an emotional temperament,----"
"What do you mean by emotional?" interrupted Hardwick.
"There you go again!" and Wise looked amused. "Emotions are of all sorts,but emotional has come to be used only in reference to demonstrations ofthe affections."
"You're a scholar!" cried the Professor. "Rarely do I meet a man withsuch a fine sense of terminology!"
"Glad you're pleased. But, Professor, neither do I choose you ashistorian of the affairs of Black Aspens. Let me see," his eyes rovedfrom one to another, "it seems to me I'll get the most straightforward,uncoloured statement from a clerical mind. I think Mr. Tracy can tell me,in the way I want to hear it, a concise story of the mysteries andtragedies you have been through up here."
Mr. Tracy looked at the detective gravely.
"I am quite willing to do what I can," he said, "and I will tell thehappenings as I know them. For occasions when I was not present, or wheremy memory fails, the others will, I trust, be allowed to help me out."
And then, the whole matter was laid before the intelligence of PenningtonWise, and with a rapt look of interest and a few pointed questions hereand there, the detective listened to the history of his new case.
At last, the account having been brought up to date, Wise nodded hishead, and sat silent for a moment. It was not the melodramatic silence ofone affecting superiority, but the more impressive quietude of a mindreally in deep thought.
Then Wise said, simply, "I've heard nothing yet to make me assume anysupernatural agency. 'Ve you, Zizi?"
"No," came a soft, thin voice from the shadowy depths of the rear hall.
Milly jumped. "Has she been there all the time?" she said.
"She's always there," returned Wise, in a matter-of-fact way. "Now I'mready to declare that the deaths of your
two friends are positively notdue to spiritistic wills, but are dastardly murders, cleverlyaccomplished by human hands and human brains."
"How?" gasped Eve Carnforth. She was leaning forward, her beryl eyesdilated and staring, her hands clenched, her slender form trembling withexcitement.
"That I do not know yet,--do you, Zizi?"
"No," came tranquilly from the distance.
"Let that girl come here," cried Milly, pettishly. "It gets on my nervesto have her speaking from way back there!"
"Come here, Zizi," directed Penny Wise, and the slim young figure glidedtoward them. She was a mere slip of a girl, a wisp of humanity, in aflimsy frock of thin black stuff, with a touch of coral-tinted chiffon inbodice and sash. The skirt was short, and her black silk stockings andhigh-heeled pumps gave her a chic air. Her black hair was drawn smoothlyback, in the prevailing mode, and though she had an air ofworld-knowledge, she was inconspicuous in effect.
Without a glance at the people, personally, she sat down in a chair, alittle apart, yet in full view of all.
Wise paid no attention to her, and went on, thoughtfully. "No, there isno evidence pointing to the occult, but innumerable straws to show whichway the camel's back is to be broken."
"Mr. Wise," said Eve, determinedly, "I don't think it is fair for you tohear the story only from Mr. Tracy. I think he is opposed to a belief inpsychics and so unintentionally colours his narrative to lead away fromsuch theories."
"That may be so," said Tracy, himself, looking thoughtfully at Eve; "andI agree it would be fairer to hear the story, or parts of it, retold byMiss Carnforth or some one who fully believes in spiritism."
"Right," said Wise; "go ahead, Miss Carnforth, tell me anything thatseems to you different in meaning from what Mr. Tracy has described."
Quite willing, Eve told of the ghostly visitant that had appeared to herthe night she slept in the Room with the Tassels, and then describedvividly the ghost that had appeared to Vernie, as Vernie had told it toher.
"You see," she concluded, "there is no explanation for these things,other than supernatural, for the locks and bars on the house precludeintrusion of outsiders, and all the occupants of the house are accountedfor. I tell you the things just as they happened."
"With no wish to be discourteous, Miss Carnforth, I would advise you totell those tales to the submarines. Even the marines couldn't swallowthose! Could they, Zizi?"
"No," and now that they could see the girl, all noticed a slight smile ofamusement on her young face. It was quickly followed by a look of horrorin her black eyes, as she murmured, "What awful frights you must havehad!" and she glanced at Milly, in sympathy. Then she turned towardNorma, and seemed about to speak, but thought better of it.
Not looking toward his "property," Wise went on talking. "I can readilysee how any one willing to believe in the occult could turn these weirdhappenings into plausible proof. But it is not so. Miss Carnforth's ownstory convinces me even more strongly that there has been diabolicalcleverness used, but by a human being, not a phantom."
"And you will discover how, you will solve the mysteries?" asked theProfessor, eagerly.
"I hope to. But it is the most difficult appearing case I have everencountered."
"It is not an eleventh case, then?" and Professor Hardwick told again ofAndrew Lang's percentage of proof.
"No, it is not. It is one of the ten that are the result of fraud. Now tofind the perpetrator of the fraud."
"At least you must admit, Mr. Wise," said Eve, a little spitefully, "thatyour saying it is a case of fraud does not make it so."
"No," agreed Wise, smiling in an exasperatingly patronizing way, "it suredoes not. In fact it has already made itself so."
"And your discovery of the means used is bound to come?" asked Tracy,with interest.
"Bound to come," repeated the detective. "But don't let us begin by beingat odds with each other. I came here to discover the truth. If any onewants the truth to remain undiscovered, now is the time to say so. For itwill soon be too late."
"Why should any one want the truth to remain undiscovered?" said Braye,abruptly.
"For two reasons," replied Wise, seriously. "First, any one criminallyimplicated might wish it to remain unknown; second, any one wishing toshield another, might also wish no discoveries made."
"But you don't think any of us are criminally implicated, I hope," andBraye looked questioning.
"There are others in this house beside you people," Wise returned; "and Itell you frankly, I'm not ready yet to suspect any one or even imaginewho the criminal may be. I only state positively that disembodied spiritsare not responsible for those two tragic deaths. Also, may I ask you toremember, that I've only just arrived, that I've had a tiresome journey,that I'd like rest and refreshment, and that there are more days comingfor my further work."
"Why, bless my soul!" exclaimed the Professor, "that's all true! Do youknow, Mr. Wise, it seems as if you'd always been here, it seems as if youwere already one of us."
"Thank you, sir, that's a pleasant compliment to my personality, anyway.And now, if you please, Mrs. Landon, may I be shown to my room?"
"Certainly," said Milly, and she rang for Thorpe, as Landon rose toescort the guest himself.
"Where's that girl?" said Norma, looking round after the detective hadgone off, "what became of her?"
But there was no sight of the little black-robed figure.
"Oh, let her alone," said Eve, "she slid out to the kitchen, I think.Hester will look after her. That man said to pay no more attention to herthan to his hand luggage. She'll look out for herself, I've no doubt.Isn't she awful, anyway?"
"I think she's pretty," said Norma, "in a weird, elfin sort of way."
"She knows it all," said Braye. "I never saw such an effect of old headon young shoulders in my life. But what a funny way to treat her."
"She's a spy," declared Eve, "that's what she is, a spy! With her silent,gliding ways, and her sly, soft voice! I hate her!"
"Now, now, Evie, don't be unjust!" and Braye smiled at her. "She is a bityour style and temperament, but don't be jealous!"
"Nonsense!" and Eve laughed back at him, "why, she isn't a bit like me!She has black hair and eyes----"
"I didn't notice," said Braye, "but she impressed me as being like you inlines and motions."
"A pocket edition," laughed Tracy. "Miss Carnforth would make two of thatlittle shrimp, and Miss Carnforth is a sylph, herself."
The party broke up into smaller groups, and Braye and Norma sauntered offfor their usual afternoon stroll.
Eve watched them go, her eyes moodily staring.
"Won't I do?" said Tracy's quiet voice, and Eve pulled herself togetherand smiled at him.
"You're the one I want most," she declared gaily, unwilling to be thoughtdisappointed. "Let's walk down by the lake."
The walk by the lake was always shaded, but as the day was murky it wasgloomier than ever.
"You like this place?" asked Tracy, with a glance at the black grove ofaspens, and their dark reflection in the still water of the deep pool.
"Yes, I do; or, I did, until that man came up here. There's no use inpursuing our investigations with him around."
"All the more use," declared Tracy. "If any supernatural things happen itwill refute his cocksure decisions."
"Yes, it would. Oh, I do wish a ghost would appear to him, and scare himout of his wits!"
"He has plenty of wits, Miss Carnforth, and he'd take some scaring, Ithink. But if a real phantasm came, he'd know it, and he'd acknowledgeit, I'm sure. He strikes me as an honourable man, and a decent,straightforward sort."
"If he is," and Eve ruminated, "perhaps he can help us toinvestigate----"
"That's what he's here for."
"I mean investigate _our_ beliefs. If he could be convinced, as we are,of the existence of phantoms, and of their visitations, he'd be asplendid help, wouldn't he? Perhaps I am in wrong in disliking him."
"You're certainly premature. Why, not
one man out of a thousand doesbelieve in the occult. And not one in a million detectives, I daresay."
Meantime, Braye and Norma were talking in like vein.
"I do believe it was a spirit that killed our dear Vernie, and Mr.Bruce," Norma declared, "but if Mr. Wise can prove the contrary, we wanthim to do so, don't we, Rudolph?"
"Of course, Norma, we all feel that way. I, especially, for as heir toUncle Gif's money, I'm in a peculiar position. But if anybody can get atthe truth, this Wise person can. He's a live wire, I can see that."
"Shall we help him, Rudolph, or hold back and let him work alone?"
"Help him, of course! Why not? But, be careful that it is help we offerhim, and not merely stupid interference."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing particular; but some of us are inclined to be a bit officious,and--oh, I don't know, Norma,--I don't want to say anything--even to you.Let's talk of pleasanter subjects."
"What, for instance?"
"You, for instance! You're enchanting to-day, in that pale blue gown. Itmakes you look like an angel."
"Do they wear pale blue?"
"I don't know what they wear, and shan't care until you really are one,and then, I hope I'll be one, too. But you look like an angel, because ofyour angelic face. It's like a roseleaf washed in sunlight----"
"Now, Rudolph, don't try to be poetical! You can't hit it off! A washedface is remindful of a soap advertisement,--not an angel!"
"Rogue! You love to make fun of me! But I don't mind. Oh, Norma, I don'tcare what you say to me, if you'll only say yes. Won't you, dearest?"
"Bad boy! Behave yourself! I told you not to ask _any_ question until weget away from this place. I won't listen to love talk at Black Aspens!It's out of the picture!"
"But will you, as soon as we get back to New York? Will you,Norma--darling?"
"Wait till then, and we'll see," was all the answer he could get.