CHAPTER IX. A FEW GOLDEN HAIRS
When a few days from that I made my appearance before Mr. Gryce, it wasto find him looking somewhat sober. "Those Schoenmakers," said he, "aremaking a deal of trouble. It seems they escaped the fellows up north andare now somewhere in this city, but where--"
An expressive gesture finished the sentence.
"Is that so?" exclaimed I. "Then we are sure to nab them. Given time anda pair of low, restless German thieves, I will wager anything, our handswill be upon them before the month is over. I only hope, when we do comeacross them, it will not be to find their betters too much mixed up withtheir devilish practices." And I related to him what Fanny had told me afew evenings before.
"The coil is tightening," said he. "What the end will be I don't know.Crime, said she? I wish I knew in what blind hole of the earth that girlwe are after lies hidden."
As if in answer to this wish the door opened and one of our men camein with a letter in his hand. "Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Gryce, after he hadperused it, "look at that."
I took the letter from his hand and read:
The dead body of a girl such as you describe was found in the East river off Fiftieth Street this morning. From appearance has been dead some time. Have telegraphed to Police Headquarters for orders. Should you wish to see the body before it is removed to the Morgue or otherwise disturbed, please hasten to Pier 48 E. R. GRAHAM.
"Come," said I, "let's go and see for ourselves. If it should be theone--"
"The dinner party proposed by Mr. Blake for to-night, may have itsinterruptions," he remarked.
I do not wish to make my story any longer than is necessary, but I mustsay that when in an hour or so later, I stood with Mr. Gryce before theunconscious form of that poor drowned girl I felt an unusual degreeof awe stealing over me: there was so much mystery connected with thisaffair, and the parties implicated were of such standing and repute.
I almost dreaded to see the covering removed from her face lest I shouldbehold, what? I could not have told if I had tried.
"A trim made body enough," cried the official in charge as Mr. Grycelifted an end of the cloth that enveloped her and threw it back. "Pitythe features are not better preserved."
"No need for us to see the features," exclaimed I, pointing to the locksof golden red hair that hung in tangled masses about her. "The hair isenough; she is not the one." And I turned aside, asking myself if it wasrelief I felt.
To my surprise Mr. Gryce did not follow.
"Tall, thin, white face, black eyes." I heard him whisper to himself."It is a pity the features are not better preserved."
"But," said I, taking him by the arm, "Fanny spoke particularly ofher hair being black, while this girl's--Good heavens!" I suddenlyejaculated as I looked again at the prostrate form before me. "Yellowhair or black, this is the girl I saw him speaking to that day inBroome Street. I remember her clothes if nothing more." And opening mypocketbook, I took out the morsel of cloth I had plucked that day fromthe ash barrel, lifted up the discolored rags that hung about the bodyand compared the two. The pattern, texture and color were the same.
"Well," said Mr. Gryce, pointing to certain contusions, like marks fromthe blow of some heavy instrument on the head and bared arms of the girlbefore us; "he will have to answer me one question anyhow, and thatis, who this poor creature is who lies here the victim of treachery ordespair." And turning to the official he asked if there were any othersigns of violence on the body.
The answer came deliberately, "Yes, she has evidently been battered todeath."
Mr. Gryce's lips closed with grim decision. "A most brutal murder," saidhe and lifting up the cloth with a hand that visibly trembled, he softlycovered her face.
"Well," said I as we slowly paced back up the pier, "there is one thingcertain, she is not the one who disappeared from Mr. Blake's house."
"I am not so sure of that."
"How!" said I. "You believed Fanny lied when she gave that descriptionof the missing girl upon which we have gone till now?"
Mr. Gryce smiled, and turning back, beckoned to the official behind us."Let me have that description," said he, "which I distributed among theHarbor Police some days ago for the identification of a certain corpse Iwas on the lookout for."
The man opened his coat and drew out a printed paper which at Mr.Gryce's word he put into my hand. It ran as follows:
Look out for the body of a young girl, tall, well shaped but thin, of fair complexion and golden hair of a peculiar bright and beautiful color, and when found, acquaint me at once. G.
"I don't understand," began I.
But Mr. Gryce tapping me on the arm said in his most deliberate tones,"Next time you examine a room in which anything of a mysterious naturehas occurred, look under the bureau and if you find a comb there withseveral long golden hairs tangled in it, be very sure before you drawany definite conclusions, that your Fannys know what they are talkingabout when they declare the girl who used that comb had black hair onher head."