In Jeopardy

  Chapter V

  _The Missing Link_

  "I beg your pardon," repeated Doctor Marcy, looking at me uncertainly.

  "I should beg yours, doctor," I answered as easily as I could. Somesixth sense had made me aware that Betty Graeme was standing in theshadow behind me. She must have heard more than enough already, and nowshe would demand the whole truth. Assuredly I must protect her in herevident desire to remain unnoticed.

  "I didn't mean to interrupt," I continued, "but my cigarette was burningmy fingers--too much interested, you see."

  "Secondly, then," went on Doctor Marcy, "I have found the missing'something' that serves to link up the chain."

  The doctor took a small key from his waist-coat pocket and proceeded tounlock a compartment in the great, flat-topped desk, the latterconstructed after the usual design with a set of drawers, and otherstorage places, on either side of a central well for the accommodationof the writer's feet and legs. From this compartment he unearthed adespatch box made of iron, an old-fashioned piece that might have comedown from Revolutionary days. It measured about fifteen inches, by ten,by seven; and the corners were bound in brass.

  "Yes, it could have done the business without a doubt," said Marcy,answering my unuttered question. "The box must have been standing on thefloor near the screen. Francis Graeme rises, perhaps with the intentionof picking it up. He suffers a cerebral rush of blood, becomes dizzy,falls, and strikes his head against this sharp corner. A severe blow inthe region of the temple may be instantaneously fatal."

  There was a rustle of feminine garments, and my Cousin Betty came frombehind the screen and stood before us. "There is only one flaw in yourargument, doctor," she said, with just the thin edge of a tremor in herhigh, sweet voice. "Where was that box when you first came in the roomand knelt by my--my father?"

  "Sorry you had to know, my girl," said the doctor; he had risen and wasstanding close to her, holding both her hands in his own big, warmpalms. "Sorry you had to know," he repeated. "But since it has comeabout I shan't be keeping anything back. I wanted to spare you."

  "Yes, I understand that," she returned, "and I'm grateful, too. Yetafter deciding that an inquest is not necessary, after signing acertificate that death was due to natural causes, you're not satisfiedin your own mind. I come in here and find you telling my Cousin Hughthat there is some mystery in the affair, that all is not straight andaboveboard. You even offer a perfectly plausible explanation of what--ofwhat really happened. Yes, and I would have accepted it like everyoneelse--only for one thing----"

  "Yes?" queried the doctor.

  "I'll put my question again. Where was that iron despatch-box when youfirst entered the room, and saw--well, what you saw?"

  Doctor Marcy waited a moment or two before replying. "There isn't anydoubt in my mind," he began, "but that your father did fall and that thecontusion on his forehead was caused by that actual iron box. I confessthat I didn't notice it when I first saw the body and knelt down to feelthe pulse. I assume that it had been accidentally pushed out of sight inthe angle formed by the screen and the desk; it was just there that Ifound it later on."

  "On your second visit to the room?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, suppose you tell Cousin Hugh what you were doing in the interval.I want to see if his mind will work in the same direction as mine."

  "I had stepped into the hall just in time to see you riding up the greendrive," said the doctor, "and I realized that someone must prepare youfor what had happened. I asked Miss Trevor to do it, but she insistedthat she could not go through the ordeal. Consequently, I put Effinghamon guard at the library door with instructions to let no one pass; thenI went down to the horse-block and assisted you to dismount. You sawinstantly that something was wrong, and you begged me to tell you thetruth. But I would not say a word until we were in the parlor. Then Iadmitted that your father had met with an accident. Before I couldprevent it you had rushed into the hall and down to the library door."

  "Go on," ordered Betty, as he hesitated. "Tell Cousin Hugh who wasstanding there."

  "It was Miss Trevor," said Doctor Marcy, dropping his voice and glancingover at me.

  "It wasn't the time to ask for an explanation," continued the doctor."You remember, Betty, that Eunice took you in her arms, and told youvery gently what had happened. She tried to persuade you not to go inthe room, but you refused to be put off. Effingham came and unlocked thedoor; you and I went in and looked at him still lying by the side of thebig desk. It was then that I saw the despatch-box, and wondered why Ihad not noticed it before, especially as it was just the link that Ineeded to fit into the accident hypothesis."

  "I don't think I have any theory," answered Doctor Marcy. "Up to thismoment my mind had been more concerned with the stark fact of Graeme'sdeath than with the predisposing cause. Of course I had taken the templebruise into account, and in a superficial way it seemed to explaineverything. But I really hadn't tried to formulate my ideas clearly. Thethought of you, Betty, had presented itself, and I was chiefly engagedin wondering how you were to be told and how you would take the shock."

  "But afterwards?" persisted Betty.

  "Then I tried to build up the accident theory. Everything fittedbeautifully except for the little uncertainty about the despatch-box."

  "May I ask a question or two," I interrupted.

  "Surely."

  "You say that you left Effingham to guard the library door while youwent to meet my Cousin Betty?"

  "Yes."

  "How long were you away?"

  "Approximately five minutes."

  "And when you again came to the library door Miss Trevor was standingthere and Effingham was gone?"

  "Yes."

  "Then it is possible that Miss Trevor may have entered the room--let ussay--for the purpose of replacing the despatch-box in its originalposition?"

  "Possible--yes."

  "Which implies that she must have paid a previous visit to the room andcarried the box away?"

  "If you like."

  "We assume that the despatch-box held important papers belonging to Mr.Graeme----"

  "Including his will," interjected Miss Graeme.

  "But I thought that Mr. Eldon----" I began in surprise.

  "I was referring to an earlier will," returned my Cousin Betty. "But Iforget that you don't know about that. It reads exactly like the presentone except that John Thaneford is named as the residual heir."

  "Did anyone, besides Mr. Eldon, know that a later will--the one in myfavor--had been made?"

  "Yes. Father told Eunice and me that he had decided to make the change.He had met you in Philadelphia and liked you. He made inquiries aboutyou and what he heard increased that liking. He had never caredover-much for John, and had considered him only as representing theHildebrand family, the heirs of the blood. He was delighted to discoverthat your relationship was quite as close as that of John Thaneford;moreover, you possessed the advantage of bearing the actual name."

  "Did Eunice offer any objection to the change?" asked Doctor Marcy.

  "Why, no," returned Betty, knitting her brows. "Her advice in the matterhad not been asked, and she would hardly have offered it. I don'tremember that she said anything at all."

  "How about you?"

  Betty colored. "I did suggest to father that he needn't be in such ahurry," she answered. And then with a quick glance at me: "You see,Cousin Hugh, none of us had met you outside of father himself. You mightbe very nice and probably were, but the acquaintance had been so short,and he might have been deceived. We women tried to persuade him that hehad been a little hasty; we wanted him to wait until you had paid thatprojected visit to the 'Hundred' and given us the chance to look youover."

  "We!" put in the doctor significantly. "So it appears that Eunice didtake a hand in the discussion."

  "Oh, in that way--why, yes. We felt exactly alike about it, knowing thatfather was apt to be too generous in his estimate of the people he met;he had been cheated so many times."


  I began to feel a trifle embarrassed, and Betty, in that wonderful wayof hers, divined it instantly. Not that she said anything. She justlooked at me again, and I understood that I need no longer considermyself rated as a doubtful quantity; a mightily cheering thought I foundit.

  "Was Eunice persistent in her endeavor to change Mr. Graeme'sresolution?" asked Doctor Marcy.

  "You mean about cutting out John and putting in Mr. Hugh Hildebrand?"

  "Yes."

  "Persistent! Well, I dare say you could have called it that," repliedBetty thoughtfully. "She certainly said several times that JohnThaneford believed himself entitled to the property; she pointed outthat when father succeeded his cousin, Richard Hildebrand, he had asmuch as promised to make such disposition of the 'Hundred.'"

  "Which he really had done," I suggested. "The first will was inexistence; only now he proposed to alter it."

  "Yes."

  "Suppose Mr. Graeme had died intestate," I went on. "What then?"

  "I dare say the real property would have gone to Betty as his legallyadopted daughter," answered Doctor Marcy.

  "No, not legally," explained Betty, much to our surprise. "My name isreally Graeme, but it comes to me from my own father who was FrancisGraeme's older brother. I was only a baby when my parents died, and myuncle simply took charge of me. It didn't seem necessary to take outformal adoption papers, and anyhow it was never done."

  "Oh, undoubtedly there would have been a lawsuit, in the event of nowill," remarked the doctor. "Both Betty and John Thaneford could put inthe claim of blood relationship; you, too, Mr. Hildebrand, if it comesto that. Bear in mind there is no entail."

  "Was Mr. John Thaneford aware that there had been a will drawn in hisfavor?" I asked.

  "I can't say, Cousin Hugh. Probably not, for even I never heard of ituntil father announced that he intended to supersede it."

  "When did that particular conversation take place?"

  "To-day is Thursday; just a week ago then."

  "Mr. Graeme himself may have spoken to Thaneford."

  "About what?" put in Doctor Marcy. "The making of the first will, or thefact that he had determined to alter it?"

  "Well, he might have told him the whole story."

  The doctor shook his head. "I doubt it very much," he said. "Graeme hadgrown to dislike John Thaneford--dislike him intensely."

  "Why?"

  Doctor Marcy did not reply in words, but eyebrows rose significantly ashe glanced in Betty's direction.

  "Confining ourselves to facts," continued the doctor, "it can beestablished that a will was made in favor of John Thaneford, and thatMr. Graeme had determined to set it aside. That first will was kept byMr. Graeme in this very despatch-box; it is there now."

  Doctor Marcy selected another small key from his bunch, and opened theiron box. "You know I am a co-executor with Henry Powers," he said, "andso I am acting within my rights." He took out a number of legal papers,and presently offered one for our inspection. It was a testamentarydocument precisely like the will read by Mr. Eldon, except that theresiduary estate went to John Thaneford instead of Hugh Hildebrand. Itwas dated some six months back.

  "And was the second will, the one in my favor, also kept in this box?" Iasked.

  "No," answered Doctor Marcy. "Mr. Eldon, who of course drew it, hadretained it in his own possession. You see, it had only been executed afew days ago; to be exact, the Friday before Mr. Graeme's death. PerhapsMr. Eldon persuaded Mr. Graeme to let him keep it locked up in theoffice safe, at least temporarily."

  "Yet someone, who knew Mr. Graeme's habits and about this despatch-box,may have come to the conclusion that the new will was kept in the sameplace as the old one."

  Doctor Marcy nodded. "It follows," he said meditatively, "that on themorning of June 21 'someone' obtained possession of the master-key andentered the library with a definite purpose in view, a purposeidentified with the contents of that iron despatch-box. That is youridea?"

  "And the obvious criticism is that the master-key would hardly have beenused at a time when Mr. Graeme was actually occupying the room."

  "Well, 'someone' may have expected to find the tragical situation whichwe know existed; a forewarning had been received that there would be nohuman obstacle to the search for the iron despatch-box. Whereupon theentrance was made and the box was found. There was no attempt to examineits contents on the spot."

  "Why not?"

  "There was danger in remaining in the room, and the papers were toonumerous to be sorted out at a glance. Or some outside disturbance mayhave occurred to frighten the intruder. At any rate, 'someone' withdrew,taking the despatch-box along for leisurely examination."

  "Then it was not this 'someone' who killed Mr. Graeme," I remarked.

  "No one ever intimated it," returned the doctor. "Remember that Graemesat with his back to the fireplace and windows, and facing the entrancedoor. It would not be easy for 'someone' to unlock the door, pass to thevicinity of the writing desk, and strike the fatal blow--all withoutattracting the attention of the victim. Now no sounds of a struggle wereheard by anyone, and there was nothing in the disposition of the body tosuggest a physical encounter. No, you can't get away from the plain andsimple facts: Mr. Graeme is taken with vertigo; he staggers and falls;his temple comes into contact with the sharp corner of that irondespatch-box; he becomes unconscious immediately, and shortly afterwardshe dies. What more do you want to know?"

  "So that is what killed him?"

  "If I were perfectly convinced of the truth of my own theory," returnedthe doctor, "would I have ever intimated to you, Mr. Hildebrand, thatthere was something odd about the business? Betty put her finger at onceupon what had been vaguely in my mind. _Where was that despatch-box whenI first entered the room and found Francis Graeme lying dead upon thefloor?_ I don't know, do you?"

  "There ought to be an inquest," I declared. "And of course an autopsy.You are willing?" I asked, turning to Betty.

  "Yes."

  "Then it is decided. Who is the coroner, Doctor Marcy?"

  "John Thaneford."

  For a moment I thought the doctor guilty of execrably bad taste inmaking a joke of the matter; then I saw that he was in sober earnest."For some extraordinary reason," he explained, "Thaneford took it intohis head to try the political game. The local Democratic slate hadalready been made up, but he was told that he could have one of theminor offices. Accordingly, he accepted the nomination for coroner andwas elected by the usual party majority."

  "Well, he is sworn to do his duty," I persisted.

  "Surely."

  "Suppose we present what evidence we have to-morrow, including, ofcourse, the withdrawal of your original death certificate, DoctorMarcy."

  "It may get me into all sorts of trouble," commented the doctorruefully. "But there's nothing else to be done; I see that clearly. Thebare thought that Francis Graeme, he of all men--sorry, Betty, my girl!I dare say this is getting a bit too much for you."

  My cousin Betty had broken down and was crying softly on Doctor Marcy'sbroad shoulder; he petted her and talked to her as though she had been alittle child.

  And so at last we parted for the night, Doctor Marcy taking up hisquarters in an anteroom adjoining the sick chamber, and Betty decidingto seek companionship with Miss Trevor. I tumbled into bed at once, butit was many an hour before sleep came to me.