XIII BATES, THE BURGLAR
Brought before the magistrate, Bates told a coherent though amazingstory.
It seems he was Estelle's lover, and had long ago persuaded her to lethim know when Miss Carrington had a quantity of jewelry in the house,that he might essay a robbery. The plan was simple. Estelle had promisedto slip downstairs at three o'clock and raise a window for his entrance,and later, but before any one else was about, she was to slip down andlock it again. In the meantime, they assumed, the burglary would bequietly accomplished, their supposition being that Miss Carrington wouldbe asleep in her bedroom, and the boudoir easy of access.
"You entered by the window, then, at what time?" asked Stone, who wasdoing most of the questioning.
"At quarter of four in the morning," replied Bates, and all noted thatthis was shortly before the hour when Mrs. Frothingham saw through herfield-glass a man leaving by the same window.
"You went directly up the stairs?"
"Yes; Estelle had often told me the lay of the rooms, and I went straightto the lady's boodore."
"You carried with you a 'black-jack.' Did you have murder in your heart?"
"That I did not! I took that, thinkin' if the lady woke up and screamed,I'd just give her a tap that would put her to sleep without hurtin' herat all, at all. I'm no murderer, Sir, and I'm confessin' my attempt atburglary, and--and assault, so I won't be accused of a greater crime."
"That's right, Bates, it'll be better for you to be perfectly truthful.Now, what did you see when you entered the room?"
"I had stepped inside and shut the door before I saw anything, and then,I turned to see the lady's face, but in the mirror. I was behind her, andin the glass I saw her smilin' face, and of course, I thought she wasalive, and that she saw me. I knew she'd scream in a minute, and thesight of all the jewels gleamin' on her neck drove me fair crazy withgreed, I suppose, and I up with my sandbag, and hit her head, not meanin'to hit hard enough to kill her, but only to knock her unconscious-like."
"And then?"
"The blow smashed the big comb she was wearin' but she didn't move norfall over. She was leanin' back in her big chair, and she jest sat there,and kept on smilin'. My knees shook like the ague, for I thought it wasmagic, or that my eyes was deceivin' me. There was no sound anywhere, andI stood starin' at that smilin' face and she starin' back at me! I nearlyscreamed out myself! But I bucked up, and thinkin' that she was struckunconscious so quick, her face didn't change, I made to take off some ofthe jewels I was after. I touched her neck and it was cold! The lady wasdead! Had been dead some time, I was sure, 'cause she was so cold andstiff. I trembled all over, but my only thought then was to get out. Notfor a million dollars would I touch them sparklers! There ain't often aburglar who is ghoul enough to rob a corpse! Leastways, _I'm_ not. Iwouldn't. I wouldn't! I'm a tough and a bad egg generally, but I wouldn'tsteal from no corpse! Not I!"
"So you left the house at once?"
"That I did, as fast as my tremblin' legs could get me downstairs. I wasclean daft. I couldn't make it out and I didn't try. I thought it was theDevil's own work, somehow, but how, I didn't know. My mind was full,makin' my escape. I ran like the old boy was after me, and reachin' home,I hid under me bedclothes and groaned all night. Full a week went by, andI begun to breathe easy, thinkin' I'd never be suspected of a hand in it,when up comes this gentleman, and says I done it. Well, I've told thetruth now, and I'm relieved to get it off my chest."
Bates heaved a deep sigh, as of a man eased of a great burden. His wholestory bore the stamp of truth, and his manner of telling wasstraightforward and earnest. Nor was there reason for doubt. Though astartling tale, it entirely explained many of the strange conditions thathad seemed so bewildering. It would never have occurred to Bates nor toany one to make up such a yarn, and what else could have deterred himfrom the contemplated robbery but the superstition that makes even themost hardened criminals refuse to steal from a dead person? Therefore,the narrative was accepted as probably true, and Bates was taken to theTombs to await further proceedings against him.
"You're a wonder!" said Gray Haviland, as, that same afternoon, hediscussed the matter with Fleming Stone. "Would you mind telling me howyou went straight to the criminal and walked him off to jail?"
"That was practically a bit of luck," and Stone smiled. "It was theblack-jack that gave me the clue. If the fellow hadn't dropped that inhis fright, we might never have traced him. Though we would perhaps havefound him eventually, through the maid, Estelle. She is not good atkeeping things secret. However, he did drop the weapon, and it ledstraight to him."
"But how?"
"Well, the thing smelled strongly of creosote. Now, it was made from abit of old cloth that looked like a piece of some discarded garment,--aman's coat, say. If the odor had been camphor or moth balls, I shouldhave assumed a garment laid away in storage, but creosote is not used forthat purpose. So I deduced a house recently remodeled by use of a certainkind of shingles. I know that the odor of those shingles clings toeverything in the house for months. It is almost ineradicable. So Ilooked about for a house lately reshingled."
"Why not a new house?" asked Hardy, who was present.
"A point well taken," said Stone, nodding approval, "but in a new housethe odor often is dispelled before the people move in. In a remodeledhouse, the furnishings stay there during the work and so are deeplyimpregnated with that unmistakable smell of creosote. At any rate, Iworked on that, and when I found that a newly shingled old house was aboarding-house of the type Bates would be likely to live in, I went thereto see, and found him."
"Yes, but how did you know there was such a person as Bates? Where didyou get his name?"
"From your cook," returned Stone, simply. "I concluded there was no doubtthat Estelle had let the man in and relocked the window afterward. So Ideduced a friend of the girl's so dear to her that she would do this forhim. I asked the cook, Mrs. Haskins, as to Estelle's admirers and learnedthat there were two, Bates and Higgins. Mrs. Haskins couldn't say whichone Estelle more favored, so I decided to try both. Bates--the cook toldme--lived in a boarding-house near here, and Higgins over in New York. Sowhen I asked Estelle a few leading questions I pretended to greaterknowledge than I really had. I spoke of a name beginning with either B,H, or S. She fell into the trap and said quickly that she knew no oneinitialed S. Then I said, 'but beginning with----' and waited; she saidno name, but involuntarily her lips form a silent 'B,' and I knew she hadBates in mind. The rest was easy. Bates, the boarding-house and theshingles formed a combination too indicative to be merely coincidence.And so we found him. And I, for one, believe his story. I know the strongsuperstition that imbues those people concerning a corpse, and theunexpected discovery that he had attacked one was enough to make that manbeside himself. Indeed, it's a wonder that he didn't himself make anoutcry in his terror and fright."
"I have heard of your prowess in these matters," said Haviland, "but Ididn't look for such quick work as this. Why, you hadn't even interviewedEstelle when you came to your conclusions about Bates."
"No, but remember, I have seen a full account of all the evidence, notonly at the inquest, but all that has been gathered by the police and byMr. Hardy here. Last night I read all this carefully, and it wasenlightening on these points that led up to to-day's work. But, now, Idon't mind telling you, Mr. Haviland, that a much more difficult andcomplicated problem faces us, to discover who gave to Miss Carrington thepoison that killed her."
"Have you any suspicions?" and Gray looked the Detective straight in theeyes.
"I have not, as yet," and Fleming Stone returned the steady gaze. "Haveyou?"
Gray Haviland hesitated. Then he said: "I would rather not answer thatquestion, Mr. Stone. If I should have suspicions, and they should beunjust or ill-founded, is it not better to leave them unmentioned, evento you? You are here to discover the criminal. I can not think mysuspicions, if I have any, could help you, but they
might easily hinderyou by wrong suggestion."
"Very well, Mr. Haviland, just as you please. But I assume you will tellme frankly anything you may know or learn in the way of direct evidencebearing on the matter?"
"That, certainly." But though Haviland's words were a definite promise,his tone and manner seemed hesitant, and a trifle vague.
"Am I to have the privilege of working with you, Mr. Stone?" inquiredHardy, his heart beating tumultuously lest he receive a negative answer.
"If you care to. And if you are willing to work in my way. I am somewhatimpatient of interference or questioning. But, if you want to assist ininvestigating, under my absolute orders, I shall be glad to have you doso."
Nothing was further from Hardy's mind than to interfere or to show anyundue curiosity concerning the work or methods of the great Detective. Hewas more than content to watch silently, to run errands, and to makehimself useful in any way desired by his superior. He said this, andStone nodded indulgently.
"I shall begin with this matter of the arrest of Count Charlier," saidStone, as he looked over his note-book. "Either that man is the guiltyparty or he is not. If not, he must be released. If so, it must beproven. What do you know of his history, Mr. Haviland?"
"Very little, Mr. Stone. In the first place, I doubt his right to thetitle he assumes."
"You do? And why?"
Haviland looked a little embarrassed. "I'm not sure I know why. But hedoesn't act like a real Count."
"Yes? And how do real Counts act, I mean in ways that differ from thisman's habits?"
"You're having fun with me, Mr. Stone," and Gray blushed like aschool-boy. "But I mean it. It's this way. I'm not a Count, but if Iwanted to pretend I was, I'd act just as Count Charlier does. There!"
"Good! That's definite, at least. Now make it a little more so bydescribing some of these actions."
"Well," and Haviland's brow wrinkled, "well, to begin with, his mannersare too slick and polished."
"A traditional trait of Frenchmen."
"Yes, if real. But his seem artificially, purposely,--oh, _fakely_polished! Have you seen him, Mr. Stone?"
"No, not yet."
"When you do, you'll see what I mean. He has shifty eyes, and he rubs hishands together, and if he's standing, he half bows with every sentence heutters, and he smirks instead of smiling, and his whole attitude is afifty-fifty of apology and bumptiousness."
"Bravo! You've given a graphic picture of him at all events. I'll reservefurther consideration of his personality until I have seen him."
"You believe implicitly all that story of Bates, do you, Mr. Stone?" andHaviland looked dubiously at the Detective.
"Yes, I do, at present. If anything turns up to disprove any part of it Imay have to revise my ideas. But just now, it seems to me that Bates toldthe simple truth. To be sure, he only told it because he feared anaccusation of murder, and he knew that to confess to the lesser crimewould go far to help him deny the greater."
"You may be right. But might there not be collusion between Friend Countand Bates?"
"Collusion?"
"Just that," and Gray shook his head doggedly. "I've a vague idea thatFrenchy is mixed up in this thing somehow. Now, he couldn't possibly haveadministered the poison, himself, personally, nor could he have struckthe blow personally, but couldn't he have hired the man Bates to do itfor him?"
"On the face of things, Mr. Haviland, does that look plausible? Is theCount, as you describe him, a man who would engage a burglar of the Batestype to commit a brutal crime? Again, if Bates were merely the Count'stool, would he not, when caught, pass the blame on to his employer?"
"He sure would! You are right, Mr. Stone, those two never hooked uptogether! It's out of the question. But as Estelle and Bates are incahoots, why didn't she give Miss Carrington the poison, herself?"
"Well, she did fix the bromide, hoping to make her mistress sleepsoundly. But the lady never took it. Now, if the maid had given orexpected to give the poison, why the bromide at all?"
"But, look here," broke in Hardy, "mightn't it be that Estelle did do thepoisoning and arranged the bromide as a blind, to put us off the track,exactly as it has done?"
"There's small use speculating about that poison," said Stonethoughtfully, "we must go at that systematically. We must find out whereit was bought and by whom. People can't go round buying deadly poisonwithout a record being made of the sale. We must inquire of druggists,until we find out these facts."
"There's no druggist about here who would sell aconitine," said Hardy,"it doubtless was bought in New York."
"That, of course, adds to the difficulty of tracing the sale, but it mustbe done. Mr. Hardy, I will ask you to do all you can to find out aboutthat."
"You want to look up a French apothecary," advised Haviland. "That Countis at the bottom of this, as sure as shootin', and he's full cleverenough to hide his tracks mighty closely. Why, that man is afortune-hunter and an adventurer, and he wanted that ten thousanddollars, and he poisoned Miss Lucy to get it! That's what he did! And hewas on deck that night, after the jewels, that's where he was! It was hein that room talking, it was he who left his glove there,--of course, hedidn't know it,--and now you've got him under lock and key, I hope you'llkeep him there, and not let this Bates discovery get him the slip. If thetwo were not working together, then, surely they are incriminatedseparately, and you want to look into the case of little old Mr. Count!"
"You may be right, Mr. Haviland," and Fleming Stone smiled at him, "but Ithink you are assuming a lot because of your prejudice against theFrenchman. Was he very attentive to Miss Carrington? Had he proposedmarriage to her?"
"That we don't know. Of course, we had all been afraid he would----"
"Why afraid?"
"Oh, we didn't want my cousin to marry an adventurer. Of course, he onlywanted her fortune, and as her business manager, I had a right tointerfere, or at least, to look after her interests enough to preventthat."
"But was she not a capable woman, who could be supposed to know her ownmind?"
"Ordinarily, yes. But, there's no use mincing matters. Miss Carringtongreatly desired to marry. However, she paid no attention to men whom shedid not consider interesting. There were several such, and she sent thempacking. The Count, though, she took to at once, partly because of histitle and partly because,--well, he has a way with him. He flattered her,and she took the bait like a hungry fish!"