XV PAULINE'S PURCHASE
Alone, Fleming Stone wrestled with the problem of the giving of thatpoison.
The library at Garden Steps had been turned over to him for a study andno one entered the room unless summoned. Stone sat at the mahoganytable-desk, but his eyes rested unseeingly on the beautiful fittings ofpolished silver and glass. On a memorandum block he wrote down the namesof possible and probable suspects. To be sure, he thought, every one inthe house might be deemed possible, as well as some who were not in thehouse. But each one must be taken into consideration.
To begin with the most important, Miss Stuart. It was possible that shepoisoned her aunt, but so improbable as to make it exceedingly unlikely.True, she was heir to half the fortune, but well-bred, well-nurturedyoung women do not commit crime to inherit their money sooner. Except forthat conversation reported by Anita Frayne, there was not a shred ofevidence against Miss Stuart. And Stone did not place implicit confidencein that story of the talk behind closed doors. He had discovered that thetwo girls were not friendly and he knew Anita capable of making up orcoloring a tale to suit herself. Pauline had told him that she was in thehall-window-seat at one o'clock that night and had seen Anita coming fromMiss Carrington's room. Or, to put it more carefully, she had seen herwith her hand on the door-knob, in the act of closing the door after her.This Pauline had told to Stone, with an air of such verity andtruthfulness that he was fain to believe her. However, in all honesty, hehad to admit to himself, that Miss Stuart _could_ have given the poisonin some secret way, had she so desired. The same was true, though, ofMiss Frayne, of Haviland and of the various house-servants. But wherecould any of them get it?
Again there were the Count and Mrs. Frothingham to be considered. Infact, there were too many suspects to decide among, without furtherevidence.
"Any luck?" Stone asked of Hardy, who came in to report.
"No, Mr. Stone. I've raked the drug shops thoroughly, and there's notrace of a sale of aconitine. It's practically impossible to buy such asubstance. I mean, for the ordinary customer."
"Yet somebody did."
"I suppose so. But doesn't it limit the field of search to realize thatit couldn't have been a servant or either of the young ladies?"
"Why neither of the young ladies?"
"But how could they get it?"
"Why not as well as any one else? And somebody did."
"Then somebody stole it. Nobody bought it. I'm positive of that, now I'velearned how impossible it is to make such a purchase. And how could thosegirls steal it?"
"I don't know, Hardy, but my point is, why couldn't they steal it ifanybody could? You're denying their ability to steal the poison, becauseyou don't want to suspect them. And neither do I, but we must look thisthing squarely in the face. Somebody managed to get that aconitine andadminister it to Miss Carrington secretly, and it is for us to find outwho did it,--who _could_ do it, in the face of almost insuperableobstacles. But it is futile to say this one or that one could or couldn'tdo it. Now, since you've found no trace of the poison sale, let's startfrom some other point. Surely, this case, with its unique circumstances,offers many ways to look for evidence. What strikes me most forcibly isthe costume of the lady. Not so much the gown,--I believe she was fond ofelaborate boudoir robes,--but the array of jewelry, the glittering scarfand the snake. Most of all, the snake. That, of itself, ought to pointdirectly to the true solution, and I believe it does, only we're tooblind to see it. I'm going to work on that snake clue, and to help, Iwish you'd go at once to all the possible shops where it might have beenbought. It may not be traceable and then, again, it may. And, the strangefact of her sitting idly before the mirror when she died! Whoever gaveher the poison was there on the spot, must have been,--for it's sureenough that she didn't take it herself, according to the doctor'sstatements. Well, if the murderer was right there with her, and she notonly made no outcry but continued to look smiling and happy, it wassurely some one she knew and in whom she had all confidence. Perhaps thisperson urged her to eat the sandwich,--oh, pshaw, that's all plausibleenough,--but, the snake! That's the bizarre clue that must leadsomewhere. And it shall! I'll ferret out the mystery of that paper snakeor my name's not Stone! Go to it, Hardy! Rake the Japanese shops anddepartment stores, but find out who bought it. It isn't old. I observedit was fresh and new. Those flimsy paper things show handling mightyquickly. Find out who bought the thing, and we've a start in the rightdirection."
Hardy went off on his errand and Stone went over to have a talk with Mrs.Frothingham.
The widow was amiable but non-committal. She was highly incensed at thearrest of the Count, but felt confident he would be liberated in a fewdays. She replied warily to Stone's questions, but admitted her presencein the house on the fatal evening.
"You see," she said, in a confidential way, "I was lonely. The Count hadgone so often of late to Garden Steps, and I was never invited, that Ithink I was a little jealous."
"Of Miss Carrington?" asked Stone, quickly.
"Yes," said Mrs. Frothingham, frankly; "and of Miss Stuart, and of theCount's intimacy over there. I had never even been in the house. So Iwent over there and looked in the windows. I saw them playing cards andlater strolling about the rooms. The great door stood a little ajar and Icautiously stepped inside. It was vulgarly curious, but it was no crime.As I stood in the hall I saw some one approaching, and stepped up a fewsteps of the staircase. It was all so beautiful that I looked at thetapestries and decorations. I remember thinking that if any onechallenged me, I should tell the truth, and say that I came in to look,as a neighbor ought to have a right to do."
"Never mind the ethics of the case, Mrs. Frothingham, stick to facts. Didyou go upstairs?"
"No, indeed, only up four or five steps, just to the turn of thestaircase."
"But Mr. Illsley saw you coming down."
"Only those few steps. He couldn't have seen me coming from the top ofthe stair, for I didn't go up so far."
"You spoke of being jealous of Miss Stuart. Why?"
"Because Count Charlier is in love with her."
"With Miss Stuart?"
"Yes; he was making up to Miss Carrington for her money, but he is reallyin love with Miss Stuart."
Mrs. Frothingham shook her head doggedly, as if determined to tell this,even though it should redound to the Count's discredit. And it did.
"Then," said Fleming Stone, "that adds motive to the theory of theCount's guilt. If he is in love with Miss Stuart, might he not have beentempted to put Miss Carrington out of the way, that Miss Stuart shouldinherit the fortune, and be the bride of his choice?"
"Indeed, yes, that is a possibility," and Fleming Stone saw at last, thatthis woman either suspected the Count's guilt or wished to make it appearso.
Again, the sudden thought struck him, suppose she was so jealous of theCount's attentions to Miss Carrington, that she went to Garden Steps withthe intent of killing the lady. Suppose she did go upstairs, although shedenied it, and put the poison in the sandwich. Surely, she hadopportunity. Surely, she would now deny it.
Fleming Stone sighed. He hated a case where the principal witnesses werewomen. One never could tell when they were lying. A man, now, was muchmore transparent and his evidence more easily weighed.
However, if this woman desired to turn suspicion toward Count Charlier,it was either because she suspected him, or was implicated herself. Ineither case, her word was not worth much, and Stone soon took his leaveto hunt a more promising field.
Returning to Garden Steps, he found that Pauline had received a letterfrom her cousin in Egypt.
"I am afraid," she said, as she handed Stone the letter to read, "that mycousin Carr will think we are not accomplishing much. Read the letter,Mr. Stone, and if you say so, I will ask Mr. Loria to come home."
Glad to read the letter from this half heir to the Carrington fortune,Stone took the sheet. It ran:
Dear Polly:
&n
bsp; The awful shock of Aunt Lucy's death leaves me without words to tell you what I feel for you in your dark hours. What _can_ I say in the face of such a horror? I wish I were there with you to help you bear it all. For on you comes the brunt of the publicity and all the harrowing details that must be attended to. If you say so, I will return to America at once. But unless I can be of definite assistance or real comfort to you, personally, I would rather not go over just now. I'm just starting on a wonderful piece of work here. No less than excavating--but I won't take time to tell of it now. I'll write you about it later, if I don't go to you. This is a short note to catch the mail, and reach you as soon as possible. Remember, as I write, I have only your first two cables, and know nothing of details. I eagerly await your letters. Why don't you follow out your plan of coming over here in February? Leave all business matters in Haviland's hands, and get away from the scene of the tragedy. Of course, as I cabled Gray, get the best possible detective experts on the case. Spare no expense, and charge all to me. Surely, we want to find and punish the slayer of Aunt Lucy, and I repeat, if you, for any reason, want me to, I will come over at once. Cable, and I will take the next steamer. If you don't do this, do write me long letters and tell me everything that is happening. Poor Aunt Lucy. I know your life with her wasn't all a bed of roses, but I know how saddened you are now, and my heart goes out to you. Dear Polly, command me in any way. I am entirely at your service here or there. If you come over here, I advise Haviland to stay there and look after things. I know the bulk of Aunt Lucy's fortune is divided between you and me, and I want Gray to see to all matters connected with my share. When he gets around to it, he can send me some money to further this work I am engaged on here. But let me know if you want me to come to you. With all loving sympathy and affection,
Carr.
Fleming Stone pondered over this letter. He had felt a certain curiosityconcerning this absent cousin, who was heir to half the great fortune,and so would have had a possible motive for a crime that would secure hisinheritance to him at once. But there was no possible way of connecting aman in Egypt with a deed committed in the victim's boudoir. Vaguethoughts of Loria's employing somebody to do the deed for him formedthemselves in Stone's mind, but were soon dismissed as untenable. The manBates could not be a tool of anybody, and beside, he didn't kill thelady. The poison did that. The Count couldn't be a tool of any one. Hewas too evidently his own master, and whether guilty or not, was entirelyon his own initiative. Oh, the whole idea was absurd. The letter itselfwas sufficient exoneration for Loria. He was absorbed in his researchwork and though thoughtful enough of Pauline's wishes, he was apparentlynot anxious to have his plans over there interrupted. He wrote like agood all round chap, and Fleming Stone could find no peg on which to hanga suspicion in his case.
"A good letter," he commented, returning it to Pauline; "what's yourcousin like?"
"In looks? A little like me, but bigger and darker. He's a fine-lookingman, and a kind-hearted one. I shall advise him not to come home, for Iknow how interested he is in his work, and he can do no good here. Canhe, Mr. Stone?"
"Frankly, Miss Stuart, I don't see how he can. I may as well admit toyou, the case seems to me a most baffling one. The assault with theblack-jack is, of course, accounted for, but we have made no progress inthe matter of discovering the poisoner. I feel that the solution of themystery is closely connected with that paper snake. Can you give me anyidea where the thing could have come from? Do you think Miss Carringtonbought it herself?"
"I am sure she did not," returned Pauline, but her voice and intonationwere such that Stone turned quickly to look at her. She had gone pale,and her eyes looked frightened. "Oh, no," she went on, hurriedly, "AuntLucy would never buy such a thing. She hated snakes."
"I know that, but she must have gotten it somewhere. It is easier tothink she put it round her throat herself than to think she let some oneelse do it."
"Why do you say that?" and now Pauline looked angry. "It is incrediblethat she should have put that thing round her own neck! What could haveinduced her to do it?"
"There seems to be no theory to fit the facts," said Stone, wearily, "sowe must try to get some facts that may suggest a theory. You think, MissStuart, that you saw Miss Frayne leaving Miss Carrington's room late thatnight?"
"I know I saw her with her hand on the door-knob," returned Paulinesteadily, and just then Anita herself burst into the room. "That is afalsehood!" she cried, and her big blue eyes flashed angrily; "how couldyou see me, when you were yourself in Miss Carrington's room?"
This was what Stone had wanted, to get these two girls at variance; andhe helped along by saying, "Were you, Miss Stuart?"
"Certainly not!" cried Pauline.
"You were!" Anita flung back. "Miss Carrington was talking to you! Shesaid she wished her face was as beautiful as yours! To whom else couldshe have said that? Surely not to the Count! One doesn't call a manbeautiful. And we all know that Miss Carrington admired your looks andlamented her own lack of beauty."
"All that applies equally well to yourself," and Pauline gazed steadilyat the blonde beauty of Anita. "Why wasn't all that speech addressed toyour own attractive face, and you repeat it to incriminate me?"
Here was an idea. Stone wondered if it could be that Anita was in theboudoir and to turn suspicion from herself tried to pretend she had heardPauline in there.
"And she said you were fond of pearls!" went on Pauline. "Your admirationfor my aunt's pearls is an open secret!"
It was. Often had Anita said how much she preferred the soft lustre ofpearls to the dazzling sparkle of other gems.
"And she left you ten thousand dollars in her will," continued Pauline,more as if thinking these things over aloud than as if accusing Anita ofcrime.
"Wait, Miss Stuart," cried Stone; "what are you doing? Implying that MissFrayne had anything to do with the tragedy?"
"I am implying nothing. I am trying to see how far the accusations shemakes against me will fit her own case. You remember she said my auntproposed to leave my share of the fortune to some one else, but Carr'sshare must remain untouched. Well, to whom else could she think of givingmy share, but to this scheming girl who tried her best to get my portion,but did not succeed?"
Anita struggled to reply, but words would not come. So furious that shecould not articulate, she gurgled hysterically, when into the room cameHaviland and Hardy. Both looked exceedingly grave, and Gray went at onceto Pauline and put his hand kindly on her shoulder. Then he suddenlycaught sight of Anita and her evident distress, and leaving Pauline hewent over to the other and put his arms gently round her.
"What is it, Anita?" he said. "What has upset you so?"
"Pauline!" was all Anita could say, when she was interrupted by Hardy.
"Let me speak first," he said, for he saw there was dissension betweenthe two girls. "I have made a discovery. At Mr. Stone's directions I havebeen investigating shops where the paper snake might have been bought,and I have learned that one was bought at Vantine's recently by MissStuart."
"Ah," said Fleming Stone gravely, "did you buy one, Miss Stuart?"
Pauline hesitated. She was white as chalk, and her lips quivered.
"Of course she did!" screamed Anita, greatly excited; "she did, and shewas in there talking to Miss Carrington, just as I said! And she put thatthing round her neck to frighten her! And then she gave her the poison,and then she came away and left her to die! All alone by herself! Thefiend!"
"There, there, Anita, hush," and Haviland tried to soothe the franticexclamation of the girl.
Pauline stood waiting, in silence. At last she said, "When you removethat ranting woman, I will answer your question, Mr. Stone."
"You'll answer it now!" cried Anita. "In my presence, and at once."
"I think you must answer, Miss Stuart," said Stone, gently. "Did you buya paper snake?"
"I did," said Pauline, and added
in a low tone, "A long time ago,--thiscan't be the same one."
"The date of the sale is about a week before the death of MissCarrington," went on Hardy, merciless in his statements.
"For what purpose did you purchase it?" asked Stone, a little sternly.
Pauline now drew herself up, proudly. "I bought it," she said, in clear,distinct tones, "because my aunt instructed me to get it for her."
There was a silence; and then, "Oh, come now, Pauline, you can't expectus to swallow that!" Gray Haviland said, with a tolerant smile at her."Try again."
"That's the truth," said Pauline, but her voice trembled, and with ahalf-stifled exclamation of despair, she ran out of the room.
"Stop, Pauline, where are you going?" cried Haviland as he ran after her.
"Don't touch me!" she cried. "I'm going to cable Carr to come home! He'sthe only one who can help me! You're so wrapped up in Anita that youcan't tell truth from falsehood. Carr will know what to do,--and I shallsend for him."
"Wait, Miss Stuart," said Fleming Stone, gravely; "you may cable Mr.Loria, if you choose, but for a few moments I must claim your attention.It is, to my mind, of the greatest importance to learn the details of thepurchase of that paper snake, and I must ask you to tell us thecircumstances of your aunt's request for it."
"There is little to tell," said Pauline, in a hesitant way. "It was oneday when I was going over to New York that Aunt Lucy just said, casually,to get her one of those Japanese paper snakes from Vantine's, and I did."
"That's enough!" cried Anita. "Miss Carrington _never_ sent for a snake!_never_ in the world! You'll be saying next she told you to get her someaconite to poison herself with!"