The Professor''s Mystery

  CHAPTER XXI

  CONCERNING THE IDENTITY OF THE MAN WITH THE HIGH VOICE

  I had my first good look at him while he moved deliberately past me andup to the door of the house: A man past middle age, in frock-coat andsilk hat in spite of the season, heavy without portliness, a figure ofan elderly athlete. A shock of iron-gray hair brushed the back of hiscollar, and his face was a face to ponder over, a face at once squareand aquiline, broad forehead, predatory nose, and the massive lips andjawbones of a conqueror, clear-cut under a skin of creamy ivory. Hemight have been a Roman emperor in time-worn marble. While I stoodirresolute, wondering whether to follow, and on what pretext I should doso, the door swung open and he passed ponderously within; and the nextinstant Mrs. Tabor appeared at the ground-floor window, motioning to mefrantically. I came forward, but she as frantically waved me back, andseemed to indicate by her gestures that I was to keep the taxicab whereit was. A moment later she slipped out of the door like a fugitive, ranacross the sidewalk, and fell in a heap inside the cab, crying: "Take meaway, quickly! Oh, take me away!"

  I directed the astonished driver to the Grand Central, and sprang inbeside her. She was very pale and breathing in sobbing gasps; andremembering her weak heart, I was alarmed almost for her life. But shebegan to recover as soon as we were fairly in motion, and by the time wehad gone a few blocks was apparently beyond the immediate danger ofcollapse. She was still, however, pitifully pale and shaken, clutchingunconsciously at my arm, and whispering: "That man--that man--" like afrightened child.

  "Whom do you mean?" I asked. "Not the chauffeur? He went the other wayas soon as you were inside."

  "Chauffeur? No, what chauffeur? I mean the old man that came in afterme. He comes after me everywhere. I can't get away from him. Is hecoming now?" She tried to look out of the window.

  "There's no one coming," I said blindly. "He sent his car away, and hecouldn't follow us if he tried. It's all right."

  "Really? Are you quite sure?" She sat up, and began setting her hair torights with little aimless pats and pushes. "You must think me ill orcrazy, Mr. Crosby," she went on with a faint smile, "but if you couldonly understand, you would see that I'm not so absurd as I seem."

  "But who is he?"

  "He's the worst of them all. He's the head of it. My own people wouldhear reason if it weren't for him. He knows--oh, he knows all the thingsthat nobody ought to. He doesn't want me ever to see Miriam-- I can'tget away from him. I can't possibly get away from him." She was growinghysterical again, and I dared not let her go on, much as I wanted tohear more.

  "He isn't here, anyway," I said. "He isn't anywhere about, and he isn'tcoming, and you have got away from him this time. And I'm going to takeyou safe home and see that no one troubles you any more."

  I felt that I was talking like a fool, but my reassurance, fatuous as itwas, had its suggestive effect. She grew steadier, and I was able tolead her mind away from its terror, until, as we reached the station,she had become almost like herself.

  "Mr. Crosby," she said as the cab stopped, "you've done me a difficultservice very tactfully, and you are a wonderful nurse; I'm really quitemyself now, and there's no need at all of your coming home with me. ButI want you to understand a little why I had such an absurd shock. Thatman is insane, and I'm afraid of him. But I can't make the familybelieve it."

  I tried to pay the least possible attention. "I'd better come with youanyhow," I said carelessly, "just to be on hand. There's no harm inhaving a man along."

  She protested that she was quite well, and that there was not theslightest occasion for my trouble. And indeed, she was so marvelouslyrecovered that it was hard for me to believe my own memory of the lastfew minutes: the oppression had passed from her as a slate is cleared bya sponge, and there was hardly a sign of visible nervousness to showthat she had been excited. Nevertheless, I could not leave her so,though I was racking my brain for an explanation, and raging at theresponsibility which prevented me from hurrying back to seek it. As Iwas buying the tickets, a god from the machine appeared in the person ofSheila, armed for travel and looking more anxious than ourselves. Shetook possession of the older woman like a nurse discovering a lostchild.

  "Here ye are on your way home again," she cried, "an' me thinkin' I'dhave to go all the way out alone on the hot thrain, with no one betterthan meself. That man of mine's off to sea, Mrs. Tabor, an' MissMargaret sent me word to come back an' make meself useful. But ye'd beknowin' that already. Ye're only in the city for the day?"

  "Mrs. Tabor and I have been lunching together," I said, "and it seemedso hot in town that I hardly liked to have her go home alone."

  "Ye've been--" Sheila shot a quick glance at me. "Well, there'll be noneed, Mr. Crosby, unless ye were to come to Stamford yourself anyway,"and she began to inquire volubly after the health of the family.

  Mrs. Tabor turned to me. "There really is nothing for you to do, Mr.Crosby, except to come soon and see me again," she said brightly. "I'mquite well, and I'm in safe hands, as you see--"

  So far as I could tell, she was right; and I had no further need ofoverriding dismissal. I saw them both safely on the train, and hurriedback; resolved to reach the bottom of at least this new mystery before Islept that night. My telephone call was answered by Reid, upon whom Iwasted no unnecessary words, telling him only that Mrs. Tabor had beencontinuously with me, and was now on her way home in charge of Sheila.

  "Why on earth didn't you 'phone before?" he snapped.

  "Couldn't," said I shortly. "Good-by," and I raced for the subway.

  A north-bound express was just leaving, and I had barely time to squeezeinside the door. The nearest station to the house would be Sixty-sixthStreet; but by taking the express to Seventy-second, and running back ona local, I should save time. I hung on my strap, fidgeting withimpatience while we howled through the clashing darkness and flashedpast the blurred brilliancy of the stations. As we passed Sixty-sixthStreet, a local drew out in the same direction as ourselves, running fora moment side by side with us before it fell behind. Its rows of lightedwindows balanced almost within reach; and close inside, in one of thecross-seats amidships of the car, sat the man whose mere presence hadso terrified Mrs. Tabor.

  There was no mistaking that face, even if the silk hat and formalfrock-coat had not been at that season almost an identification inthemselves. I could as soon have mistaken Ibsen or Napoleon appearingbefore me in the flesh. The massive head was bent forward thoughtfully,and one broad white hand lay loose along the window-sill. I noticed aplain gold ring on the little finger. Then, as the express began toslacken speed, the window moved slowly past me and out of sight ahead. Ihad a strong sense of having seen the face many times before, though,try as I would, I could not fit it to a name. He was either some personwell enough known to have his picture often in print or else thestriking distinction of his features had given me that impression.

  The local was standing at the platform as we drew into Seventy-secondStreet, and I pushed out and across to it with small regard for theamenities of the crowded station. A score of people, it seemed, werepossessed of personal designs to block my way. I dodged a chanticleerhat, caromed off a hot and angry commuter or so, and found myselfscrambling at the tail of the impatient cluster before thesliding-doors.

  "Little lively, please!" roared the guard. "Lennux 'n West Farms, localtrain! Both gates!"

  I did my best, but there were too many ahead of me. Even as I reachedfor that grip on the door-casing, which meant the right to squeezeinside, the door clicked shut before my face; and two dull clanks of thegong sealed my disappointment. I ran wildly along the train, trying toovertake the relay of sliding doors and jangling bells; but it was of nouse. Then for an infuriating minute or two the train stood still, lockedand inviolable, while the station alarm chattered overhead, and throughthe gleaming window I could see my man sitting calmly in his place. Asit creaked out into the darkness, another express growled in behind me;and I had still presence of mind enough to slip aboard. M
y one chancewas that we might overtake that local in a favorable spot.

  Seventy-ninth and Eighty-sixth Streets blurred past without a sign. Thena little beyond the latter I caught sight of the local, and gradually wedrew alongside. He was still there, drumming idly on the window-panewith his white fingers, and looking disinterestedly straight across atme. I had a momentary impulse to conceal my face, until I rememberedthat he had never seen me. So for a second we stared at each other,pursuer and pursued, the one utterly unconscious of the other. My trainpassed forward with increasing speed, while I counted thecars--one--two--three--he was in the fourth. Either he must come intoNinety-sixth Street or get off at Ninety-first; and the chances were infavor of my finding him still in the train at Ninety-sixth.

  I got out there, crossed over to the local platform, and waited. Whenthe train came in, I was opposite the fourth car. The center seat wasempty, and I sought in vain among the passengers thronging to the doors.Then I hurried back ahead of the crowd, and from before the ticketwindow ran my eyes again over the platform to make sure. Well, he hadleft the train at the last station; it was a question of seconds. I wasin the street above in less time than it takes to tell it, and swungmyself recklessly aboard a passing south-bound surface car; but a streamof trucks and automobiles blocked the track; and before we passed thenext corner I jumped off and ran. Three blocks I went at the top of myspeed, my breath growing shorter at every stride. And then, nearly ablock away to the westward, I caught sight of the silk hat against thereddening sky.

  It was an easy matter enough to overtake the man. He walked along slowlyand rather heavily, glancing upward at the numbers of the houses; andpresently he paused to verify an address in a pocketbook. I might havespoken to him then, but I hesitated for a pretext. His name was what Iwanted first; and in my ignorance of the circumstances it would be saferto settle one thing at a time. While I debated with myself, he went upthe steps of a house near West End Avenue. Since it was evidently nothis home, nothing could be lost by a little patient consideration; solighting a cigarette, of which by now I felt considerable need, Istrolled to and fro before the house, while I pondered my next move.Five or ten minutes went by, and I was on the point of ringing the belland asking who it was that had just come in, when the electric broughampurred around the corner, with my friend Thomas sitting stolidly at thewheel. At the moment, I happened to be nearly at the other end of theblock, and before I reached the spot where the brougham had drawn up myman had come out of the house. I could hardly question his servantbefore his face. And the next minute he had clambered in and drivendecorously away.

  I ran as far as the corner, looking about in all directions for ataxicab. None was in sight; and to follow afoot for any distance was, ofcourse, impossible. I should have to be content with the number of thebrougham and such information as inquiries at the two houses I knew theman to have visited might yield. Then a boy came by on a decrepitbicycle, and I caught at his handles.

  "Let me take your wheel," I panted. He twisted his face into positionfor a howl. "Nonsense, kid, I'm not going to steal it. Look at me.Here," I thrust a bill into his hand. "That's more than your machine'sworth, and I'll send it back to you in an hour. Where do you live?"

  He told me in a dazed sort of tone, and I was wavering on my way almostbefore he had finished. The wheel ran abominably hard, and was so muchtoo low for me that my knees barely cleared the handle-bars; still, itmeant all the difference between losing the brougham altogether andbeing able to follow it easily. All the way down to the fifties it ledme, and eastward beyond Madison Avenue, halting at last before arigid-looking domicile whose lower window displayed a strip of groundglass with the legend: "Immanuel Paulus, M. D."

  Somehow, the name was indefinitely familiar, as the face had been. Iwasted no time in surmise, but went straight up to the door.

  "Was that Doctor Paulus who just came in?" I asked the maid. She lookedme over cautiously.

  "Who was it wanted to see him, sir?"

  "He wouldn't know me," I said, "it's only that I have something which Ithink he lost in the street."

  The trick worked, as I had expected, and a moment later my man stoodbefore me identified, even to the shrill precision of his voice with itstinge of German accent.

  "I found this in front of your door, Doctor," said I, "and I thought youhad dropped it as you went in." And I handed him my silver pocket-knife.Deliberately he produced his own, and with deliberate courtesy pointedout my mistake. I thought as the door closed behind me that there hadbeen a glint of recognition in his eyes. But the final step remained totake; and with an aching swarm of suspicions writhing in my brain, Isought out a public telephone.

  "Mac," I asked, "who and what is Doctor Immanuel Paulus?" and the answerI had expected set the keystone upon a whole arch of totteringreminiscences.

  "Biggest alienist and nerve-shark in town; biggest in the country, Iguess. He was the old guy sittin' alone in the corner at thatspook-hunt. D'you remember?"