XXII. PATCH-WORK
“Come, give us a taste of your quality.” Hamlet.
STARTING with the assumption that Mr. Clavering in his conversation ofthe morning had been giving me, with more or less accuracy, adetailed account of his own experience and position regarding EleanoreLeavenworth, I asked myself what particular facts it would be necessaryfor me to establish in order to prove the truth of this assumption, andfound them to be:
I. That Mr. Clavering had not only been in this country at the timedesignated, but that he had been located for some little time at awatering-place in New York State.
II. That this watering-place should correspond to the one in which MissEleanore Leavenworth was staying at the same time.
III. That they had been seen while there to hold more or lesscommunication.
IV. That they had both been absent from town, at Lorne one time, longenough to have gone through the ceremony of marriage at a point twentymiles or so away.
V. That a Methodist clergyman, who has since died, lived at that timewithin a radius of twenty miles of said watering-place.
I next asked myself how I was to establish these acts. Mr. Clavering’slife was as yet too little known to me to offer me any assistance; so,leaving it for the present, I took up the thread of Eleanore’s history,and found that at the time given me she had been in R----, a fashionablewatering-place in this State. Now, if his was true, and my theorycorrect, he must have been there also. To prove this fact, became,consequently, my first business. I resolved to go to R---- on themorrow.
But before proceeding in an undertaking of such importance, I consideredit expedient to make such inquiries and collect such facts as the fewhours I had left to work in rendered possible. I went first to the houseof Mr. Gryce.
I found him lying upon a hard sofa, in the bare sitting-room I havebefore mentioned, suffering from a severe attack of rheumatism. Hishands were done up in bandages, and his feet incased in multiplied foldsof a dingy red shawl which looked as if it had been through the wars.Greeting me with a short nod that was both a welcome and an apology,he devoted a few words to an explanation of his unwonted position; andthen, without further preliminaries, rushed into the subject which wasuppermost in both our minds by inquiring, in a slightly sarcastic way,if I was very much surprised to find my bird flown when I returned tothe Hoffman House that afternoon.
“I was astonished to find you allowed him to fly at this time,” I replied. “From the manner in which you requested me to make hisacquaintance, I supposed you considered him an important character inthe tragedy which has just been enacted.”
“And what makes you think I don’t? Oh, the fact that I let him go offso easily? That’s no proof. I never fiddle with the brakes till thecar starts down-hill. But let that pass for the present; Mr. Clavering,then, did not explain himself before going?”
“That is a question which I find it exceedingly difficult to answer.Hampered by circumstances, I cannot at present speak with the directnesswhich is your due, but what I can say, I will. Know, then, that in myopinion Mr. Clavering did explain himself in an interview with me thismorning. But it was done in so blind a way, it will be necessary for meto make a few investigations before I shall feel sufficiently sure ofmy ground to take you into my confidence. He has given me a possibleclue----”
“Wait,” said Mr. Gryce; “does he know this? Was it done intentionallyand with sinister motive, or unconsciously and in plain good faith?”
“In good faith, I should say.”
Mr. Gryce remained silent for a moment. “It is very unfortunate youcannot explain yourself a little more definitely,” he said at last. “Iam almost afraid to trust you to make investigations, as you call them,on your own hook. You are not used to the business, and will lose time,to say nothing of running upon false scents, and using up your strengthon unprofitable details.”
“You should have thought of that when you admitted me into partnership.”
“And you absolutely insist upon working this mine alone?”
“Mr. Gryce, the matter stands just here. Mr. Clavering, for all I know,is a gentleman of untarnished reputation. I am not even aware for whatpurpose you set me upon his trail. I only know that in thus followingit I have come upon certain facts that seem worthy of furtherinvestigation.”
“Well, well; you know best. But the days are slipping by. Something mustbe done, and soon. The public are becoming clamorous.”
“I know it, and for that reason I have come to you for such assistanceas you can give me at this stage of the proceedings. You are inpossession of certain facts relating to this man which it concerns meto know, or your conduct in reference to him has been purposeless. Now,frankly, will you make me master of those facts: in short, tell me allyou know of Mr. Clavering, without requiring an immediate return ofconfidence on my part?”
“That is asking a great deal of a professional detective.”
“I know it, and under other circumstances I should hesitate long beforepreferring such a request; but as things are, I don’t see how I am toproceed in the matter without some such concession on your part. At allevents----”
“Wait a moment! Is not Mr. Clavering the lover of one of the youngladies?”
Anxious as I was to preserve the secret of my interest in thatgentleman, I could not prevent the blush from rising to my face at thesuddenness of this question.
“I thought as much,” he went on. “Being neither a relative noracknowledged friend, I took it for granted he must occupy some suchposition as that in the family.”
“I do not see why you should draw such an inference,” said I, anxiousto determine how much he knew about him. “Mr. Clavering is a stranger intown; has not even been in this country long; has indeed had no time toestablish himself upon any such footing as you suggest.”
“This is not the only time Mr. Clavering has been in New York. He washere a year ago to my certain knowledge.”
“You know that?”
“Yes.”
“How much more do you know? Can it be possible I am groping blindlyabout for facts which are already in your possession? I pray you listento my entreaties, Mr. Gryce, and acquaint me at once with what I want toknow. You will not regret it. I have no selfish motive in this matter.If I succeed, the glory shall be yours; it I fail, the shame of thedefeat shall be mine.”
“That is fair,” he muttered. “And how about the reward?”
“My reward will be to free an innocent woman from the imputation ofcrime which hangs over her.”
This assurance seemed to satisfy him. His voice and appearance changed;for a moment he looked quite confidential. “Well, well,” said he; “andwhat is it you want to know?”
“I should first like to know how your suspicions came to light on himat all. What reason had you for thinking a gentleman of his bearing andposition was in any way connected with this affair?”
“That is a question you ought not to be obliged to put,” he returned.
“How so?”
“Simply because the opportunity of answering it was in your hands beforeever it came into mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember the letter mailed in your presence by Miss MaryLeavenworth during your drive from her home to that of her friend inThirty-seventh Street?”
“On the afternoon of the inquest?”
“Yes.”
“Certainly, but----”
“You never thought to look at its superscription before it was droppedinto the box.”
“I had neither opportunity nor right to do so.”
“Was it not written in your presence?”
“It was.”
“And you never regarded the affair as worth your attention?”
“However I may have regarded it, I did not see how I could prevent MissLeavenworth from dropping a letter into a box if she chose to do so.”
“That is because you are a _gentleman._ Well, it has its disadvantages,” he muttered br
oodingly.
“But you,” said I; “how came you to know anything about this letter?Ah, I see,” remembering that the carriage in which we were riding at thetime had been procured for us by him. “The man on the box was in yourpay, and informed, as you call it.”
Mr. Gryce winked at his muffled toes mysteriously. “That is not thepoint,” he said. “Enough that I heard that a letter, which mightreasonably prove to be of some interest to me, had been dropped at suchan hour into the box on the corner of a certain street. That, coincidingin the opinion of my informant, I telegraphed to the station connectedwith that box to take note of the address of a suspicious-looking letterabout to pass through their hands on the way to the General Post Office,and following up the telegram in person, found that a curious epistleaddressed in lead pencil and sealed with a stamp, had just arrived, theaddress of which I was allowed to see----”
“And which was?”
“Henry R. Clavering, Hoffman House, New York.”
I drew a deep breath. “And so that is how your attention first came tobe directed to this man?”
“Yes.”
“Strange. But go on--what next?”
“Why, next I followed up the clue by going to the Hoffman House andinstituting inquiries. I learned that Mr. Clavering was a regular guestof the hotel. That he had come there, direct from the Liverpoolsteamer, about three months since, and, registering his name as HenryR. Clavering, Esq., London, had engaged a first-class room which he hadkept ever since. That, although nothing definite was known concerninghim, he had been seen with various highly respectable people, both ofhis own nation and ours, by all of whom he was treated with respect. Andlastly, that while not liberal, he had given many evidences of being aman of means. So much done, I entered the office, and waited for him tocome in, in the hope of having an opportunity to observe his manner whenthe clerk handed him that strange-looking letter from Mary Leavenworth.”
“And did you succeed?”
“No; an awkward gawk of a fellow stepped between us just at the criticalmoment, and shut off my view. But I heard enough that evening from theclerk and servants, of the agitation he had shown on receiving it, toconvince me I was upon a trail worth following. I accordingly put onmy men, and for two days Mr. Clavering was subjected to the mostrigid watch a man ever walked under. But nothing was gained by it; hisinterest in the murder, if interest at all, was a secret one; and thoughhe walked the streets, studied the papers, and haunted the vicinityof the house in Fifth Avenue, he not only refrained from actuallyapproaching it, but made no attempt to communicate with any of thefamily. Meanwhile, you crossed my path, and with your determinationincited me to renewed effort. Convinced from Mr. Clavering’s bearing,and the gossip I had by this time gathered in regard to him, that no oneshort of a gentleman and a friend could succeed in getting at the clueof his connection with this family, I handed him over to you, and----”
“Found me rather an unmanageable colleague.”
Mr. Gryce smiled very much as if a sour plum had been put in his mouth,but made no reply; and a momentary pause ensued.
“Did you think to inquire,” I asked at last, “if any one knew where Mr.Clavering had spent the evening of the murder?”
“Yes; but with no good result. It was agreed he went out during theevening; also that he was in his bed in the morning when the servantcame in to make his fire; but further than this no one seemed posted.”
“So that, in fact, you gleaned nothing that would in any way connectthis man with the murder except his marked and agitated interest in it,and the fact that a niece of the murdered man had written a letter tohim?”
“That is all.”
“Another question; did you hear in what manner and at what time heprocured a newspaper that evening?”
“No; I only learned that he was observed, by more than one, to hastenout of the dining-room with the _Post_ in his hand, and go immediatelyto his room without touching his dinner.”
“Humph! that does not look---”
“If Mr. Clavering had had a guilty knowledge of the crime, he wouldeither have ordered dinner before opening the paper, or, having orderedit, he would have eaten it.”
“Then you do not believe, from what you have learned, that Mr. Claveringis the guilty party?”
Mr. Gryce shifted uneasily, glanced at the papers protruding from mycoat pocket and exclaimed: “I am ready to be convinced by you that heis.”
That sentence recalled me to the business in hand. Without appearing tonotice his look, I recurred to my questions.
“How came you to know that Mr. Clavering was in this city last summer?Did you learn that, too, at the Hoffman House?”
“No; I ascertained that in quite another way. In short, I have had acommunication from London in regard to the matter.
“From London?”
“Yes; I’ve a friend there in my own line of business, who sometimesassists me with a bit of information, when requested.”
“But how? You have not had time to write to London, and receive ananswer since the murder.”
“It is not necessary to write. It is enough for me to telegraph him thename of a person, for him to understand that I want to know everythinghe can gather in a reasonable length of time about that person.”
“And you sent the name of Mr. Clavering to him?”
“Yes, in cipher.”
“And have received a reply?”
“This morning.”
I looked towards his desk.
“It is not there,” he said; “if you will be kind enough to feel in mybreast pocket you will find a letter----”
It was in my hand before he finished his sentence. “Excuse myeagerness,” I said. “This kind of business is new to me, you know.”
He smiled indulgently at a very old and faded picture hanging on thewall before him. “Eagerness is not a fault; only the betrayal of it. Butread out what you have there. Let us hear what my friend Brown has totell us of Mr. Henry Ritchie Clavering, of Portland Place, London.”
I took the paper to the light and read as follows:
“Henry Ritchie Clavering, Gentleman, aged 43. Born in
----, Hertfordshire, England. His father was Chas. Clavering, for short time in the army. Mother was Helen Ritchie, of Dumfriesshire, Scotland; she is still living. Home with H. R. C., in Portland Place, London. H. R. C. is a bachelor, 6 ft. high, squarely built, weight about 12 stone. Dark complexion, regular features. Eyes dark brown; nose straight. Called a handsome man; walks erect and rapidly. In society is considered a good fellow; rather a favorite, especially with ladies. Is liberal, not extravagant; reported to be worth about 5000 pounds per year, and appearances give color to this statement. Property consists of a small estate in Hertfordshire, and some funds, amount not known. Since writing this much, a correspondent sends the following in regard to his history. In ‘46 went from uncle’s house to Eton. From Eton went to Oxford, graduating in ‘56. Scholarship good. In 1855 his uncle died, and his father succeeded to the estates. Father died in ‘57 by a fall from his horse or a similar accident. Within a very short time H. R. C. took his mother to London, to the residence named, where they have lived to the present time.
“Travelled considerably in 1860; part of the time was with ----, of Munich; also in party of Vandervorts from New York; went as far east as Cairo. Went to America in 1875 alone, but at end of three months returned on account of mother’s illness. Nothing is known of his movements while in America.
“From servants learn that he was always a favorite from a boy. More recently has become somewhat taciturn. Toward last of his stay watched the post carefully, especially foreign ones. Posted scarcely anything but newspapers. Has written to Munich. Have seen, from waste-paper basket, torn envelope directed to Amy Belden, no address. American correspondents mostly in Boston; two in New York. Names not known, but supposed to be bankers. Brought home considerable luggage, and fitte
d up part of house, as for a lady. This was closed soon afterwards. Left for America two months since. Has been, I understand, travelling in the south. Has telegraphed twice to Portland Place. His friends hear from him but rarely. Letters rec’d recently, posted in New York. One by last steamer posted in F----, N. Y.
“Business here conducted by ----. In the country, ---- of ---- has charge of the property.
“BROWN.”
The document fell from my hands.
F----, N. Y., was a small town near R----.
“Your friend is a trump,” I declared. “He tells me just what I wantedmost to know.” And, taking out my book, I made memoranda of the factswhich had most forcibly struck me during my perusal of the communicationbefore me. “With the aid of what he tells me, I shall ferret out themystery of Henry Clavering in a week; see if I do not.”
“And how soon,” inquired Mr. Gryce, “may I expect to be allowed to takea hand in the game?”
“As soon as I am reasonably assured I am upon the right tack.”
“And what will it take to assure you of that?”
“Not much; a certain point settled, and----”
“Hold on; who knows but what I can do that for you?” And, lookingtowards the desk which stood in the corner, Mr. Gryce asked me if Iwould be kind enough to open the top drawer and bring him the bits ofpartly-burned paper I would find there.
Hastily complying, I brought three or four strips of ragged paper, andlaid them on the table at his side.
“Another result of Fobbs’ researches under the coal on the first day ofthe inquest,” Mr. Gryce abruptly explained. “You thought the key wasall he found. Well, it wasn’t. A second turning over of the coal broughtthese to light, and very interesting they are, too.”
I immediately bent over the torn and discolored scraps with greatanxiety. They were four in number, and appeared at first glance to bethe mere remnants of a sheet of common writing-paper, torn lengthwiseinto strips, and twisted up into lighters; but, upon closer inspection,they showed traces of writing upon one side, and, what was moreimportant still, the presence of one or more drops of spattered blood.This latter discovery was horrible to me, and so overcame me for themoment that I put the scraps down, and, turning towards Mr. Gryce,inquired:
“What do you make of them?”
“That is just the question I was going to put to you.”
Swallowing my disgust, I took them up again. “They look like theremnants of some old letter,” said I.
“They have that appearance,” Mr. Gryce grimly assented.
“A letter which, from the drop of blood observable on the written side,must have been lying face up on Mr. Leavenworth’s table at the time ofthe murder--”
“Just so.”
“And from the uniformity in width of each of these pieces, as well astheir tendency to curl up when left alone, must first have been torninto even strips, and then severally rolled up, before being tossed intothe grate where they were afterwards found.”
“That is all good,” said Mr. Gryce; “go on.”
“The writing, so far as discernible, is that of a cultivated gentleman.It is not that of Mr. Leavenworth; for I have studied his chirographytoo much lately not to know it at a glance; but it may be--Hold!” Isuddenly exclaimed, “have you any mucilage handy? I think, if I couldpaste these strips down upon a piece of paper, so that they wouldremain flat, I should be able to tell you what I think of them much moreeasily.”
“There is mucilage on the desk,” signified Mr. Gryce.
Procuring it, I proceeded to consult the scraps once more for evidenceto guide me in their arrangement. These were more marked than Iexpected; the longer and best preserved strip, with its “Mr. Hor” atthe top, showing itself at first blush to be the left-hand margin ofthe letter, while the machine-cut edge of the next in length presentedtokens fully as conclusive of its being the right-hand margin of thesame. Selecting these, then, I pasted them down on a piece of paper atjust the distance they would occupy if the sheet from which they weretorn was of the ordinary commercial note size. Immediately it becameapparent: first, that it would take two other strips of the same widthto fill up the space left between them; and secondly, that the writingdid not terminate at the foot of the sheet, but was carried on toanother page.
Taking up the third strip, I looked at its edge; it was machine-cutat the top, and showed by the arrangement of its words that it wasthe margin strip of a second leaf. Pasting that down by itself, Iscrutinized the fourth, and finding it also machine-cut at the top butnot on the side, endeavored to fit it to the piece already pasted down,but the words would not match. Moving it along to the position itwould hold if it were the third strip, I fastened it down; the wholepresenting, when completed, the appearance seen on the opposite page.
“Well!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce, “that’s business.” Then, as I held it upbefore his eyes: “But don’t show it to me. Study it yourself, and tellme what you think of it.”
“Well,” said I, “this much is certain: that it is a letter directed toMr. Leavenworth from some House, and dated--let’s see; that is an _h,_isn’t it?” And I pointed to the one letter just discernible on the lineunder the word House.
“I should think so; but don’t ask me.”
“It must be an _h._ The year is 1875, and this is not the terminationof either January or February. Dated, then, March 1st, 1876, andsigned----”
Mr. Gryce rolled his eyes in anticipatory ecstasy towards the ceiling.
“By Henry Clavering,” I announced without hesitation.
Mr. Gryce’s eyes returned to his swathed finger-ends. “Humph! how do youknow that?”
“Wait a moment, and I’ll show you”; and, taking out of my pocket thecard which Mr. Clavering had handed me as an introduction at our lateinterview, I laid it underneath the last line of writing on the secondpage. One glance was sufficient. Henry Ritchie Clavering on the card;H----chie--in the same handwriting on the letter.
“Clavering it is,” said he, “without a doubt.” But I saw he was notsurprised.
“And now,” I continued, “for its general tenor and meaning.” And,commencing at the beginning, I read aloud the words as they came, withpauses at the breaks, something as follows: “Mr. Hor--Dear--a niece whomyo--one too who see--the love and trus--any other man ca--autiful, sochar----s she in face fo----conversation. ery rose has its----rose is noexception------ely as she is, char----tender as she is,s----------pable of tramplin------one who trusted----heart------------.-------------------- him to----he owes a----honor----ance.
“If------t believe ---- her to----cruel----face,---- what is----bleserv----yours
“H------tchie”
“It reads like a complaint against one of Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces,” Isaid, and started at my own words.
“What is it?” cried Mr. Gryce; “what is the matter?”
“Why,” said I, “the fact is I have heard this very letter spoken of.It _is_ a complaint against one of Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces, and waswritten by Mr. Clavering.” And I told him of Mr. Harwell’s communicationin regard to the matter.
“Ah! then Mr. Harwell has been talking, has he? I thought he hadforsworn gossip.”
“Mr. Harwell and I have seen each other almost daily for the last twoweeks,” I replied. “It would be strange if he had nothing to tell me.”
“And he says he has read a letter written to Mr. Leavenworth by Mr.Clavering?”
“Yes; but the particular words of which he has now forgotten.”
“These few here may assist him in recalling the rest.”
“I would rather not admit him to a knowledge of the existence ofthis piece of evidence. I don’t believe in letting any one into ourconfidence whom we can conscientiously keep out.”
“I see you don’t,” dryly responded Mr. Gryce.
Not appearing to notice the fling conveyed by these words, I took up theletter once more, and began pointing out such half-formed words in itas I thought we
might venture to complete, as the Hor--, yo--,see--utiful----, har----, for----, tramplin----, pable----, serv----.
This done, I next proposed the introduction of such others as seemednecessary to the sense, as _Leavenworth_ after _Horatio; Sir_ after_Dear; have_ with a possible _you_ before _a niece; thorn_ after _its_in the phrase _rose has its; on after trampling; whom_ after _to;debt after a; you_ after _If; me ask_ after _believe; beautiful_ after_cruel._
Between the columns of words thus furnished I interposed a phrase ortwo, here and there, the whole reading upon its completion as follows:
“------------ House.” March 1st, 1876.
“_Mr. Horatio Leavenworth; Dear Sir:_
“(You) have a niece whom you one too who seems worthy the loveand trust of any other man ca so beautiful, so charming isshe in face form and conversation. But every rose has its thornand (this) rose is no exception lovely as she is, charming (as sheis,) tender as she is, she is capable of trampling on one whotrusted her heart a
him to whom she owes a debt of honor a ance
“If you don’t believe me ask her to her cruel beautiful face what is (her) humble servant yours:
“Henry Ritchie Clavering.”
“I think that will do,” said Mr. Gryce. “Its general tenor is evident,and that is all we want at this time.”
“The whole tone of it is anything but complimentary to the lady itmentions,” I remarked. “He must have had, or imagined he had, somedesperate grievance, to provoke him to the use of such plain language inregard to one he can still characterize as tender, charming, beautiful.”
“Grievances are apt to lie back of mysterious crimes.”
“I think I know what this one was,” I said; “but”--seeing him lookup--“must decline to communicate my suspicion to you for the present. Mytheory stands unshaken, and in some degree confirmed; and that is all Ican say.”
“Then this letter does not supply the link you wanted?”
“No: it is a valuable bit of evidence; but it is not the link I am insearch of just now.”
“Yet it must be an important clue, or Eleanore Leavenworth would nothave been to such pains, first to take it in the way she did from heruncle’s table, and secondly----”
“Wait! what makes you think this is the paper she took, or was believedto have taken, from Mr. Leavenworth’s table on that fatal morning?”
“Why, the fact that it was found together with the key, which we knowshe dropped into the grate, and that there are drops of blood on it.”
I shook my head.
“Why do you shake your head?” asked Mr. Gryce.
“Because I am not satisfied with your reason for believing this to bethe paper taken by her from Mr. Leavenworth’s table.”
“And why?”
“Well, first, because Fobbs does not speak of seeing any paper in herhand, when she bent over the fire; leaving us to conclude that thesepieces were in the scuttle of coal she threw upon it; which surely youmust acknowledge to be a strange place for her to have put a paper shetook such pains to gain possession of; and, secondly, for the reasonthat these scraps were twisted as if they had been used for curl papers,or something of that kind; a fact hard to explain by your hypothesis.”
The detective’s eye stole in the direction of my necktie, which was asnear as he ever came to a face. “You are a bright one,” said he; “a verybright one. I quite admire you, Mr. Raymond.”
A little surprised, and not altogether pleased with this unexpectedcompliment, I regarded him doubtfully for a moment and then asked:
“What is your opinion upon the matter?”
“Oh, you know I have no opinion. I gave up everything of that kind whenI put the affair into your hands.”
“Still----”
“That the letter of which these scraps are the remnant was on Mr.Leavenworth’s table at the time of the murder is believed. That upon thebody being removed, a paper was taken from the table by Miss EleanoreLeavenworth, is also believed. That, when she found her action had beennoticed, and attention called to this paper and the key, she resorted tosubterfuge in order to escape the vigilance of the watch that had beenset over her, and, partially succeeding in her endeavor, flung the keyinto the fire from which these same scraps were afterwards recovered, isalso known. The conclusion I leave to your judgment.”
“Very well, then,” said I, rising; “we will let conclusions go for thepresent. My mind must be satisfied in regard to the truth or falsity ofa certain theory of mine, for my judgment to be worth much on this orany other matter connected with the affair.”
And, only waiting to get the address of his subordinate P., in caseI should need assistance in my investigations, I left Mr. Gryce, andproceeded immediately to the house of Mr. Veeley.