The Splendid Outcast

  *CHAPTER XXII*

  *MYSTERY*

  The sudden extraordinary turn of events and the inexplicable horror ofhis brother's death had so bewildered Jim Horton that he stood awaitingthe arrival of the _Commissaire de Police_ in a kind of stupefaction,looking down at the huddled form of the man upon the floor, unable tothink with any clearness. The officer requested him not to move ortouch anything, and Piquette stood beside Jim as though to give himcourage. But the policeman kept an eye on Horton and remained by thedoor, watching outside and in as though guarding it against his possibleescape. Horton noticed this but remained immovable, aware that thefellow was only doing his duty, and that further explanations must awaitthe arrival of the _Commissaire_, who had been telephoned for.

  The furniture of the studio, each object of which possessed for Jim somepoignant association, seemed strangely familiar, yet unreal. Thechairs, the rugs, the hangings, had suddenly become merely a backgroundfor the body lying among them, a part of it, linked in a horribleconspiracy of silence, Moira's plain furniture, her easel, which stillbore the placid portrait of the indomitable Parisienne who had refusedto be a _froussarde_; the arm chair by the fireplace in which Moira hadsat, the table from which they had supped; the lay figure in its oldcostume, felt hat and draperies; the couch by the window; the brass bowlon the mantel, full of Moira's brushes--all of them spoke so eloquentlyof her. And Moira....

  He frowned as he tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Theknife in his brother's side had been intended for him. There was nodoubt of that, and the motive for the crime was obvious....Quinlevin.... Tricot? Yes. But how? His glance passed over the roomagain and again, seeking in vain the answer. His guardian had preferredto await the arrival of his superior before examining the kitchenetteand bed-rooms, but with the door locked upon the outside there was nohope that the solution of the mystery would be found there.

  Meanwhile, Jim Horton's mind became slowly impregnated with therealization of his own position which must become more dubious when heanswered the questions of the _Commissaire_, for answer them he must,telling the whole of his story if it were necessary, without thought ofconsequences to himself or others. The future became at each momentmore ominous. Horrible as the thought was, they might even suspect himof this crime and even if he escaped that disaster, with the publicitywhich must follow, the Provost Guard awaited him. But at his side wasPiquette, who had seen what he had seen and who knew what he knew and hefelt her fingers clasp his with a valiant touch that gave him courageand assurance.

  And in a short while the _Commissaire_ entered, followed by hissecretary, several Agents and newspaper men. The _Commissaire_,Monsieur Matthieu, was a man of medium height strongly built, with smallsharp eyes, and reddish hair. He went about the affair with abusiness-like mien, exchanging a few words with the policeman who hadfirst come, glancing quickly at Horton, Piquette, and the otherwitnesses.

  "Let no one enter the room," he said in his sharp staccato, when he hadselected his witnesses. "Let no one leave it."

  Then quickly he questioned Horton and Piquette as to their visit and theexact circumstances of their discovery of the body. Horton was at aloss, but Piquette spoke rapidly and in a few moments had given the_Commissaire_ a complete narration of their experiences from the momentthey had climbed the stairs to the studio of Madame Horton.

  "You say that you and this monsieur came to this room by appointment tomeet Madame Horton at eight o'clock?" questioned the _Commissaire_.

  "Yes, Monsieur."

  "That you came up the stair and as the door was unlocked, you enteredthis room, finding it empty?"

  "Yes, Monsieur."

  "And the door to the apartment yonder was locked from this side and thekey was in the lock as it is at this moment?"

  "Yes, Monsieur."

  "The rooms beyond, then, have not yet been entered?" he asked of thepoliceman who had come up at the first alarm.

  "No, _Monsieur le Commissaire_."

  "_Bien_. Then we shall enter at once."

  He nodded significantly to the two _Agents_, who took their places byJim and Piquette, and with his secretary and the policeman followinghim, M. Matthieu unlocked the door into the kitchenette and investigatedthe kitchen and bedrooms.

  When he reappeared some moments later his face was puzzled. But he wentto the big studio window and examined the catches.

  "These windows you say were also locked?" he asked of Horton suddenly,in excellent English.

  "They were--all of them," said Horton.

  "Then you did not know that one of them was open?"

  "Open!" Horton crossed the room eagerly. "I could have sworn----"

  "You observe----?" said the Frenchman, and touching the window, it swungopen noiselessly.

  "That's strange," muttered Horton, "I thought the catch was on. Buteven so," he added, "there was no chance for the murderer to haveescaped there. As you will see, Monsieur, it is a blank wall of fullthree stories in height."

  The _Commissaire_ peered out. There was a broad wooden ledge or silljust outside, but the ledge led nowhere and he could see that whatHorton had stated was true. It was sixty feet to the flagging of thecourt below and a drop meant death or injury to any one who daredattempt it. Nor was there any sign of a rope or ladder.

  "H-m. We shall wait for daylight for that. In the meanwhile----" herelapsed into silence, gazing about the room with great care, examiningeach object and coming at last to the body.

  "It has not been touched?" he questioned of the policeman.

  "No, Monsieur."

  He walked around the corpse dictating quickly to the man with thenote-book and then drew the knife from the wound. It was a two-edgedaffair at least six inches in length, a weapon evidently intended forjust such a deadly business.

  "He was struck below the left arm and from behind," Piquette heard himdictate, "the direction of the weapon in the body indicating without thepossibility of a doubt that the wound was not self-inflicted. A case ofmurder," he finished, looking up at Horton, who had followed his motionswith intense interest.

  Then he moved the body so that it lay flat upon the floor, throwing apocket light full upon the face, starting back in amazement.

  "Monsieur!" he gasped to Horton, and then threw the light suddenly intoJim Horton's face.

  "Monsieur Horton, did you know----?"

  "It is my brother," said Jim quietly.

  "_Nom d'un chien_! I could swear it was yourself."

  "My twin brother, Monsieur," repeated Horton.

  Monsieur Matthieu's eyes narrowed as he gazed at Jim. "The case becomesmore interesting. H-m. You will now tell me, please, what happenedwhen you went out of the studio into the hallway."

  Horton nodded.

  "We thought of going away and returning when Madame Horton, mysister-in-law, should return."

  "The wife of the murdered man?" broke in the _Commissaire_.

  "Yes, Monsieur," said Jim. "As we were about to go down to the courtbelow we heard the footsteps of some one coming up. But it was notMadame Horton. We knew that by the sounds. It was a man's step--so wewithdrew into the little hall room and watched."

  "The facts are curious, Monsieur Horton," put in the _Commissaire_ withsudden interest. "Why did you wish to conceal yourself from the othervisitors of Madame Horton?"

  The question was pertinent and there could be no evading a reply. SoJim told briefly of Quinlevin, Moira and Harry and his unfriendlyrelationship with his brother. As he did so he heard the gasps andwhisperings among the listeners which gave him an unpleasant realizationof their conception of the affair. And the testimony of Piquette, whogrew angry at the sounds from the auditors, did nothing to improve hissituation.

  "I see, Monsieur," said M. Matthieu sagely. "It is wise that you seefit to tell us the truth now since it must all come out later. Therewas bad blood between you and your brother and between you and MonsieurQuinlevin
--so that you feared a plot in the _Petit Bleu_ which meant todo you violence?"

  "Not when I received the message, Monsieur. I came here with MadameMorin in good faith to try and help Madame Horton--to take her away froma situation in which she was most unhappy."

  "And your relations with your sister-in-law?" asked the _Commissaire_.

  Horton flushed angrily, but he realized that the man was within hisrights. As Piquette cried excitedly, "Madame 'Orton was on'appy wit''er 'usband, Monsieur----"

  "Madame Horton and I were the best of friends----" broke in Jim quietly.

  "Evidently," said M. Matthieu dryly.

  The changed manner of Monsieur Matthieu, his sudden air of intenseinterest in Jim himself, and the keen appraisal in his eyes did notaugur well for the result of the investigation.

  "You will please go on with the rest of the story, Monsieur," he added,and then with a glance at Piquette, "And you, Madame, will be pleased toremain silent until I question you. You say that you realized that thevisitor coming up the stair was a man and that you and Madame withdrewin the darkness into the little hall-room and waited?"

  "Yes, Monsieur."

  "And you both saw the man come up the stairs to the studio door. Whathappened then?"

  "He turned the knob and entered."

  "Had you recognized him as your brother at that time?"

  "I hadn't. I thought that my brother had joined his regiment."

  "Ah--a soldier! And do you know why he is here in civilian's clothes?"

  "I do not."

  "Did Madame Morin recognize him?"

  "Yes. But I didn't believe it was he--even then."

  Monsieur Matthieu smiled and shrugged. "And you didn't realize how muchalike you were in your dark overcoats and soft hats?"

  "No."

  "And after your brother went in at the studio door, how long did you andMadame wait in the hall room?"

  "I don't know exactly--a matter of four or five minutes, when we heardsounds in the studio and the falling of a body."

  "And you rushed out to the studio door and went in?" asked the_Commissaire_ craftily.

  "The door was locked," said Jim. "I put my shoulder against it andbroke it in."

  "Ah. You broke it in? How long did that take?"

  "Perhaps half a minute."

  "And when you entered the room, Madame was with you?"

  "Yes--just behin' heem," broke in Piquette eagerly.

  M. Matthieu glanced at Piquette with a frown which silenced her.

  "And what did you see, Monsieur?"

  "What you saw, Monsieur--my brother lying there--the chair upset--but nosign of any one in the room. It was very mystifying."

  "Yes, it must have been," dryly, "miraculous, in fact. And then what didyou do?"

  "I examined the room thoroughly--I was bewildered, Monsieur. I couldn'tunderstand any more than you can, because the only door by which themurderer could have escaped I found to be locked--as you found it,Monsieur."

  "Most extraordinary! And what is your theory as to the escape of themurderer?"

  "I haven't any. The more I think, the more astounding it seems. Icouldn't believe, unless I had seen all these things with my own eyes."

  "And you, Madame?" he asked at last in French, turning to Piquette.

  "What Monsieur tells is the truth, _Monsieur le Commissaire_. I swear."

  Monsieur Matthieu laughed.

  "Come now. What you two ask me to think is beyond belief. I come tothis room and find a man murdered by a dastardly blow dealt by a man ofgreat muscular force." Here he ran a careless glance up and down JimHorton's long figure. "The only door by which he could have escaped islocked, exit by the window is impossible, and you and Madame guard thestairs until the crowd gathers. Do you think you will get me to believethat the murderer flew up the chimney?"

  "I don't ask you to believe anything," said Jim, trying to keep hisnerve.

  "But I must believe the evidence of my observation. There is no way inwhich the man could have passed you on the stair?"

  "None," said Jim helplessly, "until I came up with the policeman no onewent down."

  "That is true," added Piquette. "Monsieur 'Orton was armed. No onecould have passed him."

  Here the _Commissaire_ was puzzled, for what had seemed clearer a momentago was lost in the frankness of this confession.

  "Where are the other witnesses in the case?" he asked of the policeman.

  "Here, Monsieur," indicating one of the men he had detained. "This manwas in the hall with the crowd. These others too are willing totestify."

  The secretary took the witness's name, Paul Joubert, his address, and M.Matthieu questioned him.

  "You have heard the testimony of Monsieur Horton?"

  "Yes, Monsieur."

  "It is true?"

  "In every particular. I and these others," indicating the men besidehim, "came up the stairs to the landing and entered the studio."

  "How many were there in the crowd?"

  "Eight--ten--a dozen," he replied, while the others confirmed him.

  "Did you know them all?"

  "Ah no, Monsieur. I live in the Court at the rear. Some of them werestrangers who ran in from the street."

  "There was no one in the upper hall?"

  "No one."

  "And in the hall-room?"

  "One of the men who had rushed up examined the room and said it wasempty. I went in myself also and saw that this was so."

  "Is the man who first went into the hall-room here?"

  "No, _Monsieur le Commissaire_. I do not recognize him, the light fromthe doorway was dim and----"

  "All right," said Matthieu. "No matter."

  And then,

  "And the other door from the apartment to the hallway remained lockedall the time?" he asked.

  "Yes, Monsieur. No one came out of there. We tried it many times."

  "H-m. And you have no theory as to how any one could have escaped fromthe room under the circumstances?"

  "No, Monsieur. It is nothing less than a miracle."

  The other witnesses shook their heads in confirmation of the testimony.

  "That will do, Monsieur Joubert." And then turning to Horton. "Now,Monsieur Horton, what did you think when you found the body of yourbrother, when you had positive proof that unless the murderer had jumpedfrom the window to death, he must at that moment have been in the room?"

  Horton had courage but he couldn't deceive himself as to the intent ofthe question. The cord was tightening. He felt it in the looks of thosearound him, in the frightened breathing of Piquette and in the steadygaze of his questioner, which he met with more and more difficulty. Buthe managed to answer calmly.

  "Think! Why, I couldn't think, Monsieur. I was bewildered, dazed,stupefied with astonishment and horror."

  "But you must give me credit for some intelligence," protested the_Commissaire_. "Since the murderer couldn't have gone out of the doorwhile you say you were breaking in, he must have been in the room allthe while."

  "There was no one in the room. I searched it."

  "That is true," almost screamed Piquette in her excitement. "I was wit''im. There was no one."

  "Quietly, Madame," said M. Matthieu reprovingly. And then, "MonsieurHorton, when you searched the room, what did you do?"

  "What _you_ would have done, Monsieur--I rushed down the stair and gavethe alarm, watching the stair and waiting for the police. I am asmystified as you. If I could tell you any more I would do so."

  Monsieur Matthieu tapped his eye-glasses thoughtfully and it was a longtime before he spoke. And then,

  "Where is Madame Horton?"

  "I don't know."

  "And Monsieur Quinlevin?"

  "I don't know."

  "You have no means of helping me to find them?"

  "If I had I would tell you."

  A pause. And then the _Commissaire_ cleared his throat in an importantmanner.

  "I have a feeling
that you are keeping something back, Monsieur Horton.I warn you that you will not make things easy for yourself in makingthem difficult for me."

  "What do you mean, Monsieur?" asked Jim, sure that his position andPiquette's had now grown desperate.

  "Merely, Monsieur," said the _Commissaire_ with a glance at the deadman, "that blows such as this are not struck by spiritual agencies, thatwhen there is a murdered man there must also be a murderer. Yourtestimony and that of Madame Morin agree, but then I cannot neglect thepossibility that you may have some object in agreeing."

  "You believe that I----" Horton broke in in horror.

  "I believe nothing until it is definitely proved. I admit that thereare many phases of this case which seem favorable to a belief in yourstory. But there are also some points which from your testimony seem tobe--er--incredible. We do not live in an age of miracles. Murders arenot committed by spirits who vanish. There was bad blood between youand your brother. You yourself have admitted it. Madame Morin had asuspicion when he came up the stair that the _Petit Bleu_ you receivedwas a trap intended for you----"

  "Which my brother fell into," said Horton, in a last desperate effort toclear himself. "Why, Monsieur, you yourself can see how like we are.The blow was intended for me----"

  "You are fortunate, Monsieur," said the _Commissaire_, with a shrug."And you will have every chance to prove your innocence. But I cannottake the grave responsibility of liberating you. The case must go tothe _Prefet_ and will be heard in its entirety, including the manydetails which have been suggested as to Madame Horton and MonsieurQuinlevin. I am only sent here to investigate the case in its physicalaspects. And the result of the investigation is to place you and MadameMorin under arrest."

  Horton straightened and glanced around at the others in the room. Theyhad ceased to have personalities. They looked like wax images--staringat him in wonder, in curiosity, as though he were already condemned.From them his glance found Piquette. Her face was white and she wasstaring at the _Commissaire_ as though she could not believe theevidence of her ears.

  "Why, Monsieur, have we not told you----?" he heard her begin, when theofficer silenced her.

  "You will have every opportunity to testify to-morrow, Madame."

  She sent one glance at him, the _gamine_ in her terrified at the Law asrepresented in the man before her, and then bewildered, rushed to Jimand caught him by the hand.

  "Courage, _mon ami_," she gasped. "You 'ave on'y to speak de truth."

  "I'm not frightened," he said, "but you, Piquette--a prison----"

  "It's not'ing----" she said bravely, but he saw that she was on thepoint of breaking.

  "And now," broke in the _Commissaire_, who had watched this byplay withsome interest, "I am sorry that we must be off. Come."

  And giving some instructions as to the witnesses to one of the _Agentsde police_ who had accompanied him, and taking the revolver which Hortonsilently offered him, he led the way down the stair, with Piquette andHorton following, policemen at their elbows.

  A great crowd had assembled in the street and courtyard below. Hortoncaught a glimpse of the white cap and whiter face of Madame Toupin atthe door of her _loge_, and then was hurried by a policeman into acarriage which was awaiting them. He saw poor Piquette put into anotherone and they drove off in the direction of the _Prefecture de Police_,where he was shown without ceremony into a cell alone to await a furtherinvestigation upon the morrow.

  He sank down upon the cot, buried his head in his hands and tried tothink.

  Quinlevin was at the bottom of this--Quinlevin--Tricot. One of them haddone this dastardly thing, believing to save their skins and thinkingthat they were killing him. But how had the murderer gotten away? How?How?