The Leavenworth Case

  XXVI. MR. GRYCE EXPLAINS HIMSELF

  “Sits the wind in that corner?” --Much Ado about Nothing.

  I DO not propose to enter into a description of the mingled feelingsaroused in me by this announcement. As a drowning man is said to liveover in one terrible instant the events of a lifetime, so each worduttered in my hearing by Mary, from her first introduction to me in herown room, on the morning of the inquest, to our final conversation onthe night of Mr. Clavering’s call, swept in one wild phantasmagoriathrough my brain, leaving me aghast at the signification which her wholeconduct seemed to acquire from the lurid light which now fell upon it.

  “I perceive that I have pulled down an avalanche of doubts about yourears,” exclaimed my companion from the height of his calm superiority.“You never thought of this possibility, then, yourself?”

  “Do not ask me what I have thought. I only know I will never believeyour suspicions true. That, however much Mary may have been benefited byher uncle’s death, she never had a hand in it; actual hand, I mean.”

  “And what makes you so sure of this?”

  “And what makes you so sure of the contrary? It is for you to prove, notfor me to prove her innocence.”

  “Ah,” said Mr. Gryce, in his slow, sarcastic way, “you recollect thatprinciple of law, do you? If I remember rightly, you have not alwaysbeen so punctilious in regarding it, or wishing to have it regarded,when the question was whether Mr. Clavering was the assassin or not.”

  “But he is a man. It does not seem so dreadful to accuse a man of acrime. But a woman! and such a woman! I cannot listen to it; it ishorrible. Nothing short of absolute confession on her part will evermake me believe Mary Leavenworth, or any other woman, committed thisdeed. It was too cruel, too deliberate, too----”

  “Read the criminal records,” broke in Mr. Gryce.

  But I was obstinate. “I do not care for the criminal records. All thecriminal records in the world would never make me believe Eleanoreperpetrated this crime, nor will I be less generous towards her cousin.Mary Leavenworth is a faulty woman, but not a guilty one.”

  “You are more lenient in your judgment of her than her cousin was, itappears.”

  “I do not understand you,” I muttered, feeling a new and yet morefearful light breaking upon me.

  “What! have you forgotten, in the hurry of these late events, thesentence of accusation which we overheard uttered between these ladieson the morning of the inquest?”

  “No, but----”

  “You believed it to have been spoken by Mary to Eleanore?”

  “Of course; didn’t you?”

  Oh, the smile which crossed Mr. Gryce’s face! “Scarcely. I left thatbaby-play for you. I thought one was enough to follow on that tack.”

  The light, the light that was breaking upon me! “And do you mean to sayit was Eleanore who was speaking at that time? That I have been laboringall these weeks under a terrible mistake, and that you could haverighted me with a word, and did not?”

  “Well, as to that, I had a purpose in letting you follow your own leadfor a while. In the first place, I was not sure myself which spoke;though I had but little doubt about the matter. The voices are, as youmust have noticed, very much alike, while the attitudes in which wefound them upon entering were such as to be explainable equally by thesupposition that Mary was in the act of launching a denunciation, or inthat of repelling one. So that, while I did not hesitate myself as tothe true explanation of the scene before me, I was pleased to find youaccept a contrary one; as in this way both theories had a chance ofbeing tested; as was right in a case of so much mystery. You accordinglytook up the affair with one idea for your starting-point, and I withanother. You saw every fact as it developed through the medium of Mary’sbelief in Eleanore’s guilt, and I through the opposite. And what hasbeen the result? With you, doubt, contradiction, constant unsettlement,and unwarranted resorts to strange sources for reconcilement betweenappearances and your own convictions; with me, growing assurance, anda belief which each and every development so far has but served tostrengthen and make more probable.”

  Again that wild panorama of events, looks, and words swept before me.Mary’s reiterated assertions of her cousin’s innocence, Eleanore’sattitude of lofty silence in regard to certain matters which might beconsidered by her as pointing towards the murderer.

  “Your theory must be the correct one,” I finally admitted; “it wasundoubtedly Eleanore who spoke. She believes in Mary’s guilt, and I havebeen blind, indeed, not to have seen it from the first.”

  “If Eleanore Leavenworth believes in her cousin’s criminality, she musthave some good reasons for doing so.”

  I was obliged to admit that too. “She did not conceal in her bosom thattelltale key,--found who knows where?--and destroy, or seek to destroy,it and the letter which introduced her cousin to the public as theunprincipled destroyer of a trusting man’s peace, for nothing.”

  “No, no.”

  “And yet you, a stranger, a young man who have never seen MaryLeavenworth in any other light than that in which her coquettish naturesought to display itself, presume to say she is innocent, in the face ofthe attitude maintained from the first by her cousin!”

  “But,” said I, in my great unwillingness to accept his conclusions,“Eleanore Leavenworth is but mortal. She may have been mistaken in herinferences. She has never stated what her suspicion was founded upon;nor can we know what basis she has for maintaining the attitude youspeak of. Clavering is as likely as Mary to be the assassin, for all weknow, and possibly for all she knows.”

  “You seem to be almost superstitious in your belief in Clavering’sguilt.”

  I recoiled. Was I? Could it be that Mr. Harwell’s fanciful conviction inregard to this man had in any way influenced me to the detriment of mybetter judgment?

  “And you may be right,” Mr. Gryce went on. “I do not pretend to be setin my notions. Future investigation may succeed in fixing something uponhim; though I hardly think it likely. His behavior as the secret husbandof a woman possessing motives for the commission of a crime has been tooconsistent throughout.”

  “All except his leaving her.”

  “No exception at all; for he hasn’t left her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that, instead of leaving the country, Mr. Clavering has onlymade pretence of doing so. That, in place of dragging himself off toEurope at her command, he has only changed his lodgings, and can now befound, not only in a house opposite to hers, but in the window of thathouse, where he sits day after day watching who goes in and out of herfront door.”

  I remembered his parting injunction to me, in that memorable interviewwe had in my office, and saw myself compelled to put a new constructionupon it.

  “But I was assured at the Hoffman House that he had sailed for Europe,and myself saw the man who professes to have driven him to the steamer.”

  “Just so.”

  “And Mr. Clavering returned to the city after that?”

  “In another carriage, and to another house.”

  “And you tell me that man is all right?”

  “No; I only say there isn’t the shadow of evidence against him as theperson who shot Mr. Leavenworth.”

  Rising, I paced the floor, and for a few minutes silence fell betweenus. But the clock, striking, recalled me to the necessity of the hour,and, turning, I asked Mr. Gryce what he proposed to do now.

  “There is but one thing I can do,” said he.

  “And that is?”

  “To go upon such lights as I have, and cause the arrest of MissLeavenworth.”

  I had by this time schooled myself to endurance, and was able to hearthis without uttering an exclamation. But I could not let it passwithout making one effort to combat his determination.

  “But,” said I, “I do not see what evidence you have, positive enough inits character, to warrant extreme measures. You have yourself intimatedthat the existence of motive is not enough, even
though taken withthe fact of the suspected party being in the house at the time of themurder; and what more have you to urge against Miss Leavenworth?”

  “Pardon me. I said ‘Miss Leavenworth’; I should have said ‘EleanoreLeavenworth.’”

  “Eleanore? What! when you and all unite in thinking that she alone ofall these parties to the crime is utterly guiltless of wrong?”

  “And yet who is the only one against whom positive testimony of any kindcan be brought.”

  I could but acknowledge that.

  “Mr. Raymond,” he remarked very gravely; “the public is becomingclamorous; something must be done to satisfy it, if only for the moment.Eleanore has laid herself open to the suspicion of the police, andmust take the consequences of her action. I am sorry; she is a noblecreature; I admire her; but justice is justice, and though I think herinnocent, I shall be forced to put her under arrest unless----”

  “But I cannot be reconciled to it. It is doing an irretrievable injuryto one whose only fault is an undue and mistaken devotion to an unworthycousin. If Mary is the----.”

  “Unless something occurs between now and tomorrow morning,” Mr. Grycewent on, as if I had not spoken.

  “To-morrow morning?”

  “Yes.”

  I tried to realize it; tried to face the fact that all my efforts hadbeen for nothing, and failed.

  “Will you not grant me one more day?” I asked in my desperation.

  “What to do?”

  Alas, I did not know. “To confront Mr. Clavering, and force from him thetruth.”

  “To make a mess of the whole affair!” he growled. “No, sir; the die iscast. Eleanore Leavenworth knows the one point which fixes thiscrime upon her cousin, and she must tell us that point or suffer theconsequences of her refusal.”

  I made one more effort.

  “But why to-morrow? Having exhausted so much time already in ourinquiries, why not take a little more; especially as the trail isconstantly growing warmer? A little more moleing----”

  “A little more folderol!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce, losing his temper. “No,sir; the hour for moleing has passed; something decisive has got to bedone now; though, to be sure, if I could find the one missing link Iwant----”

  “Missing link? What is that?”

  “The immediate motive of the tragedy; a bit of proof that Mr.Leavenworth threatened his niece with his displeasure, or Mr. Claveringwith his revenge, would place me on the vantage-point at once; noarresting of Eleanore then! No, my lady! I would walk right into yourown gilded parlors, and when you asked me if I had found the murdereryet, say ‘yes,’ and show you a bit of paper which would surprise you!But missing links are not so easily found. This has been moled for, andmoled for, as you are pleased to call our system of investigation, andtotally without result. Nothing but the confession of some one of theseseveral parties to the crime will give us what we want. I will tell youwhat I will do,” he suddenly cried. “Miss Leavenworth has desired me toreport to her; she is very anxious for the detection of the murderer,you know, and offers an immense reward. Well, I will gratify this desireof hers. The suspicions I have, together with my reasons for them, willmake an interesting disclosure. I should not greatly wonder if theyproduced an equally interesting confession.”

  I could only jump to my feet in my horror.

  “At all events, I propose to try it. Eleanore is worth that much riskany way.”

  “It will do no good,” said I. “If Mary is guilty, she will never confessit. If not----”

  “She will tell us who is.”

  “Not if it is Clavering, her husband.”

  “Yes; even if it is Clavering, her husband. She has not the devotion ofEleanore.”

  That I could but acknowledge. She would hide no keys for the sake ofshielding another: no, if Mary were accused, she would speak. The futureopening before us looked sombre enough. And yet when, in a short timefrom that, I found myself alone in a busy street, the thought thatEleanore was free rose above all others, filling and moving me till mywalk home in the rain that day has become a marked memory of my life.It was only with nightfall that I began to realize the truly criticalposition in which Mary stood if Mr. Gryce’s theory was correct. But,once seized with this thought, nothing could drive it from my mind.Shrink as I would, it was ever before me, haunting me with the direstforebodings. Nor, though I retired early, could I succeed in gettingeither sleep or rest. All night I tossed on my pillow, saying over tomyself with dreary iteration: “Something must happen, something willhappen, to prevent Mr. Gryce doing this dreadful thing.” Then I wouldstart up and ask what could happen; and my mind would run over variouscontingencies, such as,--Mr. Clavering might confess; Hannah might comeback; Mary herself wake up to her position and speak the word I had morethan once seen trembling on her lips. But further thought showed me howunlikely any of these things were to happen, and it was with a brainutterly exhausted that I fell asleep in the early dawn, to dream I sawMary standing above Mr. Gryce with a pistol in her hand. I was awakenedfrom this pleasing vision by a heavy knock at the door. Hastily rising,I asked who was there. The answer came in the shape of an envelopethrust under the door. Raising it, I found it to be a note. It was fromMr. Gryce, and ran thus:

  “Come at once; Hannah Chester is found.”

  “Hannah found?”

  “So we have reason to think.”

  “When? where? by whom?”

  “Sit down, and I will tell you.”

  Drawing up a chair in a flurry of hope and fear, I sat down by Mr.Gryce’s side.

  “She is not in the cupboard,” that person dryly assured me, notingwithout doubt how my eyes went travelling about the room in my anxietyand impatience. “We are not absolutely sure that she is anywhere. Butword has come to us that a girl’s face believed to be Hannah’s has beenseen at the upper window of a certain house in--don’t start--R----,where a year ago she was in the habit of visiting while at the hotelwith the Misses Leavenworth. Now, as it has already been determined thatshe left New York the night of the murder, by the ------ ----Railroad,though for what point we have been unable to ascertain, we consider thematter worth inquiring into.”

  “But--”

  “If she is there,” resumed Mr. Gryce, “she is secreted; kept veryclose. No one except the informant has ever seen her, nor is there anysuspicion among the neighbors of her being in town.”

  “Hannah secreted at a certain house in R----? Whose house?”

  Mr. Gryce honored me with one of his grimmest smiles. “The name ofthe lady she’s with is given in the communication as Belden; Mrs. AmyBelden.”

  “Amy Belden! the name found written on a torn envelope by Mr.Clavering’s servant girl in London?”

  “Yes.”

  I made no attempt to conceal my satisfaction. “Then we are upon theverge of some discovery; Providence has interfered, and Eleanore will besaved! But when did you get this word?”

  “Last night, or rather this morning; Q brought it.”

  “It was a message, then, to Q?”

  “Yes, the result of his moleings while in R----, I suppose.”

  “Whom was it signed by?”

  “A respectable tinsmith who lives next door to Mrs. B.”

  “And is this the first you knew of an Amy Belden living in R----?”

  “Yes.”

  “Widow or wife?”

  “Don’t know; don’t know anything about her but her name.”

  “But you have already sent Q to make inquiries?”

  “No; the affair is a little too serious for him to manage alone. He isnot equal to great occasions, and might fail just for the lack of a keenmind to direct him.”

  “In short----”

  “I wish you to go. Since I cannot be there myself, I know of no one elsesufficiently up in the affair to conduct it to a successful issue.You see, it is not enough to find and identify the girl. The presentcondition of things demands that the arrest of so important a witnessshould be kept secret. Now, for a man to wa
lk into a strange house in adistant village, find a girl who is secreted there, frighten her,cajole her, force her, as the case may be, from her hiding-place to adetective’s office in New York, and all without the knowledge of thenext-door neighbor, if possible, requires judgment, brains, genius. Thenthe woman who conceals her! She must have her reasons for doing so; andthey must be known. Altogether, the affair is a delicate one. Do youthink you can manage it?”

  “I should at least like to try.”

  Mr. Gryce settled himself on the sofa. “To think what pleasure I amlosing on your account!” he grumbled, gazing reproachfully at hishelpless limbs. “But to business. How soon can you start?”

  “Immediately.”

  “Good! a train leaves the depot at 12.15. Take that. Once in R----,it will be for you to decide upon the means of making Mrs. Belden’sacquaintance without arousing her suspicions. Q, who will follow you,will hold himself in readiness to render you any assistance you mayrequire. Only this thing is to be understood: as he will doubtless go indisguise, you are not to recognize him, much less interfere with himand his plans, till he gives you leave to do so, by some preconcertedsignal. You are to work in your way, and he in his, till circumstancesseem to call for mutual support and countenance. I cannot even saywhether you will see him or not; he may find it necessary to keep out ofthe way; but you may be sure of one thing, that he will know whereyou are, and that the display of, well, let us say a red silkhandkerchief--have you such a thing?”

  “I will get one.”

  “Will be regarded by him as a sign that you desire his presence orassistance, whether it be shown about your person or at the window ofyour room.”

  “And these are all the instructions you can give me?” I said, as hepaused.

  “Yes, I don’t know of anything else. You must depend largely upon yourown discretion, and the exigencies of the moment. I cannot tell you nowwhat to do. Your own wit will be the best guide. Only, if possible, letme either hear from you or see you by to-morrow at this time.”

  And he handed me a cipher in case I should wish to telegraph.

  BOOK III. HANNAH