Eggleston's hands quivered over the knot, and he seemed too agitated to speak. The detective realizing that Mr. Mitchel had solved the problem, quickly stepped closer to Eggleston.
"What does this mean?" asked Mr. Van Rawlston.
"Call Miss Hetheridge, and I will explain," said Mr. Mitchel.
"No, no! Not before her!" cried Eggleston, breaking down completely. "I confess! I loved Alice, and wished to make it impossible for her to marry Lumley. The note is here! Here, in the Bible. I stole it, and hid it there!" With nervous fingers he tore off the wrappings, and rapidly turning the pages searched for the note. "Heavens! It is not here!" He looked at Mr. Mitchel inquiringly.
"No; it is not there. You paid too much for that Bible. Mr. Van Rawlston, I prefer to have the lady called, if you please."
Mr. Van Rawlston left the room, and Mr. Mitchel addressed Mr. Barnes.
"By the way, Barnes, have you abandoned your theory?"
"I suppose I must now, though I had not up to a moment ago. I found Mr. Lumley, and accused him of the theft. He would offer no explanation, but willingly agreed to return with me."
"We seem to have arrived just in time," said Mr. Lumley, quietly.
"In the very nick of time, as you shall hear," said Mr. Mitchel. "Ah, here is Miss Hetheridge. Will you be seated, please, Miss Hetheridge." He bowed courteously as the young woman sat down, and then proceeded.
"I did not think that the bank-note had been removed from this room. Why? Because I argued that the theft and the hiding must have necessarily occupied but a moment; a chosen moment when the attention of all three others was attracted away from the table where it lay. The one chance was that Miss Hetheridge may have hidden it in the folds of her gown. The men's pockets seemed too inaccessible. I agreed with Mr. Barnes, that the lady would scarcely steal what was her own, though even that was possible if she did not know that it was to be hers. For a similar reason, I did not suspect Mr. Lumley, and thus by elimination there was but one person left upon whom to fasten suspicion. I supposed he would return here during the night to recover the bank-note, and I remained in this room to watch for him."
At this Miss Hetheridge made a movement of her lips as though about to speak, but no words escaped, and she shrank back in her chair.
"During the night," proceeded Mr. Mitchel, "Miss Hetheridge came into this room, and hid something. After she had left the room, relocking the door with a duplicate key, I found what she had hidden. It was a one thousand-pound note."
There was silence for a moment, then Miss Hetheridge cried out:
"I can explain!"
"That is why I sent for you," said Mr. Mitchel.
"The note was my own," said the girl, speaking rapidly, "but after the disappearance of the other, I was afraid to have it in my room lest it be found, and seem to inculpate me. I only received it a few days before my dear uncle died. He told me that his brother William had sent it as a present to my mother upon her marriage, but as he had doubted the good intentions of my father, he had kept the matter a secret. As both my parents died, he had held the note in trust for me. He did not invest it, because he thought that his own fortune would be an ample legacy to leave me. A short time before he died, I passed my twenty-first birthday, and he gave me the note. That is the whole truth."
"To which I can testify," interjected Mr. Lumley. "And I may now add that Miss Hetheridge had not only promised to be my wife, but she offered me the use of her money to buy the partnership, which to Mr. Barnes seemed such a suspicious act."
"I have only to explain then," continued Mr. Mitchel, "how it was that I decided that Miss Hetheridge was not the thief. This morning I found heavy frost on the window-panes. Upon one, however, I noticed a circular, transparent spot, where the pattern of the frosting had been obliterated. Instantly I comprehended what had occurred. The thief, the real thief, had come in the night, or rather in the morning, for I know almost the hour. He stood upon the shed outside, and melted the frost by breathing upon the pane, with his mouth close to the glass. Thus making a peep-hole, he must have seen me asleep on the sofa, and so knew that it would be useless for him to attempt an entrance. As the person who did this trick stood upon the shed, I had but to measure the distance from the shed to his peep-hole to be able to guess his height, which I estimated to be more than six feet. Next, there was some very interesting evidence in the frost on the tin roof. The marks made by the man's feet, or his heels rather, for the frost was so light that only the impressions of the nails in the heels would show. My own made complete little horseshoe-shaped marks composed of dots. But those of my predecessor were scarcely more than half a curve, which proved that he walks on the side of his foot, thus slightly lifting the opposite side from the ground, or roof, as it was in this instance. This much decided me that Miss Hetheridge was not the thief, and I returned her bank-note to the place where she had hidden it. Then I sat at the table where the will was read, and studied the situation. The easiest way to hide the note quickly seemed to be to slip it into the Bible which stood on the table. Therefore I was not surprised when I found the bank-note which I have here."
He drew forth the bank-note from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Van Rawlston, who asked:
"But why, then, did you try to buy the Bible?"
"I had no idea of doing so. You forget that I had not seen Mr. Lumley. He, too, might have been six feet high, and he, too, might have had the habit of walking on the side of his heel, as I quickly observed that Mr. Eggleston does. With only one of the men before me I decided to run up the price of the Bible, knowing that if he were guilty he would bid over me. Mr. Eggleston followed my lead, and I was almost sure of his guilt, when he made the remark that he was buying a family relic. It was a possible truth, and I was obliged to go on bidding, to see how anxious he was to possess the volume. Then, as I said awhile ago, Mr. Lumley arrived in the nick of time. One glance at his short stature, and I was ready to let the Bible go."
"You said you could almost tell the hour at which this man peeped through the window," said Mr. Barnes.
"Ah, I see! You wish me to teach you tricks in your own trade, eh? Well, frost forms on a window-pane when the thermometer is near or below thirty-two. On the wall here I found a recording thermometer, which discloses the fact that at three o'clock this morning the temperature was as high as forty-five, while at four it was below thirty. Frost began to form between those hours. At five it was so cold, twenty degrees, that I awoke. Our man must have come between half-past four and five. Had he come before then, his peep-hole would have been fully covered again with frost, whereas it was but thinly iced over, the mere freezing of the water of the melted frost, there being no design, or pattern, as there was over every other part of the window-pane. So I may offer you a new version of an old saw, and say that, 'Frost shows which way a thief goes.'"
XII
A SHADOW OF PROOF
(Letter from Mr. Barnes to Mr. Mitchel)
"My dear Mr. Mitchel: —
"I am leaving town in connection with a matter of considerable importance, and am thus compelled to abandon a little mystery unsolved. It is not a very serious case, yet it presents certain unique features which I fancy would make it attractive to you. I therefore take the liberty of relating to you the occurrence as it was told to me by the person who sought my aid, as well as such steps as have been taken by me towards its elucidation. I must confess, however, at the outset, that though I have learned some things, the knowledge thus gained appears to me to complicate the affair, rather than otherwise.
"Two days ago a district messenger boy brought me a summons, on scented paper. The writer was a woman, who explained that she wished to intrust to me the investigation of 'a great mystery involving the honesty of one or two of our society leaders.' I was urged to call without loss of time, and was at the Madison Avenue mansion within an hour.
"In response to my card, I was shown up to the lady's boudoir, where I found Mrs. Upton eager to unfold her story, which evidently to her mind was of paramount consequence. I accepted an invitation to be seated, and she began at once, assuming a low tone, which was almost a whisper, as though she imagined that when talking with a detective the utmost stealth and secrecy were essential.
"'Mr. Barnes' she began, 'this affair is simply awful. I have been robbed, and the thief is a woman of my own social status. I am horrified to discover that one of my set could stoop so low as to steal. And then the thing itself was such a trifle. A diamond stud, worth two hundred dollars at the outside valuation. What do you think of it?'
"Observe that she had told me little enough before asking for an opinion. She seemed to be a woman of mediocre mental grasp, though perhaps as bright as most of the butterflies that flit about the fashionable ballrooms. I decided to treat her as though she were really very shrewd, and by a little flattery I hoped perhaps to learn more than she might otherwise be willing to confide to a detective, a class of beings whom she too evidently looked upon as necessary evils. I answered her in about these words:
"'Why, Mrs. Upton' said I,'if you really know the thief, and if, as you say, she is a society woman and rich, it would seem to be possibly a case of kleptomania.'
"'Kleptomania?' she exclaimed. 'Kleptomania? Rubbish! That is the excuse all rich women give for what I call plain stealing. But your idea is not new to me. I believe in being perfectly just in these matters. I would not harm a flea, unless he had bitten me; but when he does bite me, I kill him. There are no half-way measures that will suit me. No, Mr. Barnes, there is to be no compromise in this case. I will not condone theft, even if the thief be respectable and rich. And as for kleptomania, as I've said before, I've looked that up. I find it is a sort of insanity. Now there is no insanity in this case. Quite the contrary, I assure you.'
"'You are very keen in your perceptions, Mrs. Upton,' I ventured. 'If we set aside the kleptomania idea, why, then, do you imagine a rich woman would steal a thing of such little value?'
"'Spite!' she snapped back without a moment's hesitation. 'Spite, Mr. Barnes. Let that be your cue. But I must tell you just how this happened. You see, I hold a somewhat influential position in the society of "The Daughters of the Revolution," and because I do have some influence, I am constantly bothered by people who could not become members rightfully, if their titles were closely scrutinized; so they undertake to gain their end through me. They grow suddenly attentive, effusive, gushing. I am their "dearest friend," they think me "so charming," "so beautiful," "so delightfully cosmopolitan and yet so exclusive." To hear them talk you would be persuaded that I belong to both Belgravia and Bohemia in the same moment. But I usually see through their wiles, and long before they broach the subject I say to myself, "My dear madame, you want one of our society badges to pin on your breast; that is what
you
are after." Then at last comes the note asking for a "confidential interview," and when I grant it a lot of documents are shown to me which are meant to uphold the candidate's claim to membership. But there is always the little flaw, the bar sinister as it were, which they hope to override through influence; through my influence, which I may state, they never get.'
"'Ah, then, this lady, whom you suspect of taking your stud, had hoped to join your society?'
"'I cannot answer that with a single word. I cannot say either yes or no. You see, there are two women.'
"'Oh, I thought you knew the thief?'
"'So I do. I know it is one of two women. If I knew exactly which, of course I should not need your help. But you have interrupted my story. Where was I?'
"She evidently thought me an ass.
"'Oh, yes,' she resumed. 'I was telling you how people bother me to get into our society. Well, a woman of that kind has been fairly running after me all winter. She is a Mrs. Merivale. She was born an Ogden, and some of the Ogden branch are fully entitled to membership. But, unfortunately for her, she traces back to the brother of the Revolutionary Ogden, and
her
ancestor, far from fighting for our independence, is said to have made quite a tidy fortune by observing a shrewd neutrality; sometimes crying for England and sometimes the reverse, according to the company present. Of course, that is not Mrs. Merivale's fault; it all happened too long ago for her to have had any influence. But, you see, she is not in the direct line, and we only recognize the direct line. Heavens! if we did not, who knows where we would end? No, collateral branches are out of it, so far as our society is concerned, and I told her so plainly this morning. Of course, you can see how she might be spiteful about it. It was a great disappointment to her.'
"'Then you think this Mrs. Merivale took your stud just to annoy you?'
"'Dear me; how stupid you are! Did I not tell you there were two women? The other is Mrs. Ogden Beaumont. You see she clings to the family name. She also was an Ogden, and in the line. She is a member, and she had considerable influence in our society at one time. But she lost it by just such schemes as she is trying to persuade me into. She manœuvred till she had two or three of her friends elected, who have even less claim than her cousin, Mrs. Merivale. Finally, it got so that if she were to propose a name, the Membership Committee would be suspicious at once. Now she wants Mrs. Merivale elected, and according to her little plan I was to be the cat's paw. The scheming of those two women to get into my good graces has been a source of amusement to me all winter, and the climax came this morning, when I told them both very frankly that I had seen through them from the start. Mrs. Merivale was horribly disappointed, but she behaved like a lady. I must admit that, though she said some bitter things, things she will be sorry for, I assure you. But Mrs. Beaumont just lost all control of her temper. She stormed and raged, and said vile things, all of which had as little effect on me as a pea-shooter would against the rock of Gibraltar. So the two women went off, and in less than five minutes I discovered that my diamond stud had gone with them.'
"'Gone with them? Of that you are sure?'
"'Of course I am sure. Do you suppose I would make such a charge without knowing that I am in the right? Come with me, and I will convince you.'
"She led the way into a little anteroom next to her boudoir. It was not more than eight feet square, and not crowded with furniture. The floor of hardwood, covered by one large silk rug, afforded little opportunity to lose anything by dropping it. There were four chairs, a small reading-lounge, a revolving case filled with novels, a handsome piano-lamp, and a little tea-table with all requisites for making tea.
"'This is my little den where I retire when I am wearied by people and things,' continued Mrs. Upton. 'Here I am surrounded by my friends, the people that our best writers have created. I love my books, and I get as fond of the characters as though they were all living; more, I think, because I do not come into actual contact with them. I can admire the nice people, and the mean ones may be as mean as they like without affecting me. Well, I was lying here reading when these women were announced, and as I was too comfortable to get up and dress, I thought I would have them up and excuse my toilet on the plea of indisposition. "Indisposed" is always a useful word; indisposed to be bothered by the visitors, you know, – the nicest of all the white lies. So they came up here and sat around my lounge and began to bring their all-winter's scheme to a climax. After awhile, when I saw that the time had arrived to disillusionize these women, I dismissed my headache and got up to have a frank talk with them. As I arose my diamond stud dropped from the collar of my waist which I had opened, and I picked it up and placed it on that little tea-table. Then we had our little scene. It was as good as a play. I kept my temper, as a hostess always must, but my guests were not so self-possessed, and, as I have said, Mrs. Merivale said a few things, and Mrs. Beaumont a great many more, that would not sound pretty coming out of a phonograph. Then they left, and I walked to my window and saw them jump into their carriage, Mrs. Beaumont slamming the door herself with a bang that must have weakened the hinges. That is all, except that I immediately remembered my stud and came here for it. It was gone.'
"'I suppose, of course, you have searched this room, under the possibility of its having dropped to the floor?' I inquired.
"'Yes, indeed,' she answered. 'I had my own maid up, and superintended the search myself. But I took the precaution to see that nothing should be removed from the room. I had the door closed, and then we took up the rug carefully and shook it. Nothing fell from it, and the stud was not on the floor or elsewhere. You can see yourself that it cannot be a difficult matter to search this little room thoroughly. It has been done without success, but if you like you may search again. I assure you that nothing has been taken from the room. If one of those two women has not taken that stud, you may count me an idiot.'
"'You have admitted that your maid was in this room, and that brings another possibility into the case,' I said.
"'You mean that Janet might have taken it? Not at all a possibility. In the first place she is devoted to me, as my people adopted her when she was but a child, and she has been personally in my service for more than ten years. No, Janet would not do such a thing, but even if she would, she could not have done so. I took precautions.'
"'What precautions?' I asked.
"'Why, she would need one hand to pick it up, and I not only kept both of her hands occupied, but I did not permit her to stoop to the floor.'
"'How could you keep her hands always occupied?' said I.
"'Why, most of the time she was handling the broom, and that requires two hands. It was only when she shook the rug and moved the sofa that her hands were otherwise occupied. I myself did the searching, and I am absolutely certain that Janet had not the least opportunity to pick up so much as a pin.'
"'And you think that one of your friends would do what you would not attribute to your maid?'
"'Assuredly. In the first place these women are not friends of mine; after to-day, I should rather say enemies. Moreover, I would trust Janet as I would few of my real friends. You see I have not tested all my friends, and I have tested Janet. She has had temptation enough and opportunity enough to rob me a thousand times over, were she so disposed. No, I tell you one of those two women has that diamond stud.'
"'Would you mind saying which one you are the more inclined to suspect?' I asked.
"'Why, that is a hard question. Sometimes I think one, and then again the other. Mrs. Beaumont showed so much venom that I can see more reason to suspect her if I decide from motive alone. It is really her scheme to get her cousin into the society. It is she who feels most thwarted, because of her lost influence. On the other hand, I cannot remember seeing her within reach of the tea-table, while Mrs. Merivale was near it all the time. So Mrs. Merivale had the opportunity, while the incentive through temper was with Mrs. Beaumont.'
"This was the little problem which I was asked to solve, and I think that you will comprehend my meaning when I say that it was intricate because of its very simplicity. Let me enumerate the facts so as to get a sort of bird's-eye view of the situation.
"First, we have two women present when the missing property is placed on a table accessible to at least one, and possibly to both. Second, a small room, with floor devoid of cracks, and covered by a rug easily moved and shaken. Third, only a few pieces of simple furniture in the room. Fourth, the visitors depart, and the property is missed. Fifth, a search without discovery, a third possible thief entering upon the scene.
"We have apparently but four solutions; either one of the three women took the stud, or else the alleged loser lies. I omit the possibility that the stud was merely mislaid or accidentally out of sight in the room; this, because I personally conducted a search, which was so systematic as to make it absolutely assured that the stud was not in the room when I looked for it.
"Of the four theories, then, I preferred first to consider that one which the mistress declared to be ridiculous. I insisted upon seeing and catechising the maid Janet, thereby deepening madame's doubts as to my ability. After talking with this girl for half an hour, I felt so convinced of her integrity that I mentally eliminated her from the case. Next in order we had the two visitors, one of whom, according to Mrs. Upton, had a motive while the other had the opportunity. The first postulate always is that the guilty person must have both opportunity and motive, unless indeed we are dealing with an insane person, when motive may be eliminated, though frequently the insane are actuated by quite intelligible motives. Thus we seemed obliged either to discover that Mrs. Beaumont had an opportunity to obtain possession of the stud, or else that Mrs. Merivale had a motive, except that the latter may have simply acted upon the opportunity without motive, in which case we would be dealing with the kleptomaniac. After due consideration I decided to call separately upon these two ladies, and went to Mrs. Merivale first.
"She courteously received me, and as soon as I met her I was pleasantly impressed by her personality. After five minutes' talk I was certain that if she took the stud, it was, after all, the act of a kleptomaniac, and that no petty motive of revenge would have tempted this high-born, beautiful gentlewoman to descend to theft. She asked me the object of my call, and looked at me so frankly that there was no chance for subterfuge. Consequently I openly declared the purpose of my visit.
"'Madame,' said I, 'I regret very much the embarrassing nature of my errand. But you visited Mrs. Upton this morning, I believe?'
"'I did, in company with my cousin, Mrs. Beaumont.'
"'Did you happen to notice that while you were there she placed a diamond stud on the tea-table?'
"'Yes; I remember the circumstance perfectly, because of the impression which it made upon me.'
"'Would you mind telling me what that impression was?'
"'Why, simply that it was very discourteous, or at least very untidy. When we were shown to her room, she was lying down, with the collar of her waist open. After a while she arose, the stud dropped to the floor, and she picked it up and placed it on the little tea-table. I thought that it would have shown a greater sense of propriety if she had replaced it and fastened her collar.'
"'Do you recall whether the stud was still on the table when you left?'
"'Why, no! How should I? I paid no further attention to it whatever.' Then as a new idea entered her mind, her eyes flashed, and the color rose in her cheeks as she said to me sharply:
"'You cannot mean that Mrs. Upton dares to intimate – '
"'She intimated nothing,' I hastened to interject. 'Immediately after your departure the stud was missed, and the most thorough search has failed to discover it. In these circumstances Mrs. Upton sought my aid, and I drew from her the details of her morning's experiences.'
"'I imagine you had little difficulty in drawing forth the details.' She said this with a sneer, which made me understand how this woman could say unpleasant things without forgetting her dignity.
"'I assure you,' I hastened to add, 'Mrs. Upton knows nothing of my visit here. I have on my own responsibility called with the idea that if I could obtain an account of your visit from yourself, there might be some slight difference in the two stories which would show me how to proceed.'
"'I know no more than I have told you, and as I am far from being interested in Mrs. Upton's lost baubles, I must beg you to excuse me from further discussion of the subject.'
"I was dismissed. It was courteously done, but done nevertheless. I could do nothing but take leave. Still I made one venture, —
"'I must ask your pardon for intruding, but, as I have said, I thought you might be able to supply a missing detail. For example, do you recall whether Mrs. Upton's maid entered the room while you were there?'
"'I am sorry, Mr. Barnes,' said she in courteous but firm tones, 'but I must decline to pursue this conversation further.'
"That was all. I had seen one of the suspected persons, and learned nothing. Still an interview of this character is bound to leave an impression, and in this case the impression was very strongly in favor of Mrs. Merivale. Without irrefutable proof I could not believe that this dignified, frank woman had stolen the stud. For the time at least I also dismissed all theories of kleptomania.
"Thus my attention was directed toward the woman who had a motive, but was reported to have lacked the opportunity. I called at once upon Mrs. Beaumont.
"This lady is of quite a different mould from her cousin. Older by at least ten years, she is still handsome, her beauty being, however, physical in character only. She lacks the self-poise and dignity which renders Mrs. Merivale's beauty so much more attractive. Moreover, she is voluble, where the other is reserved, a trait which I welcomed as affording me more opportunity to gain some possible clue to truth.
"She came into her reception-room where I awaited her, evidently brimful of curiosity. I had sent in my card, and it seems she had heard of me in connection with that somewhat famous wager of yours.
"'Mr. Barnes, the detective, I believe,' she said as she entered.
"'At your service, Madame,' I replied. 'May I have a few minutes' conversation with you upon a trifling, yet quite puzzling matter?'
"'Why, certainly,' said she, 'but don't keep me in suspense. I am burning with curiosity to know why a detective should call on me.'
"I thought that this woman might be caught by a sudden attack, and made the venture.
"'A diamond stud was stolen from Mrs. Upton this morning, while you were there!' I said, watching her closely. She did not flinch, but seemed honestly not to comprehend the suggestiveness of my words.
"'I do not understand you,' said she.
"'It is not a serious matter, Madame, but Mrs. Upton placed a diamond stud on her tea-table while you and Mrs. Merivale were with her, and missed it a moment after you had left. Therefore – '
"This was plain enough, and she grasped the truth at a flash. In an instant she gave me evidence of that temper against which I had been warned by Mrs. Upton.
"'You dare to insinuate that I took her miserable little stud? I wish my husband were at home; I would have you horsewhipped. No, I wouldn't either. It is not you who suspect me, it is that s