Part 6 (1/2)
”That there has been a robbery I am forced to admit,” the attorney replied, courteously but firmly; ”but my opinion of the matter is still unchanged. I regard the robbery as only incident to the murder. I do not yet believe it to have led to the deeper crime.”
”Do you know, Mr. Scott, whether any one beside yourself understood the combination of the safe?” Ralph Mainwaring inquired.
”I do not, sir,” the secretary replied, conscious that all eyes had turned upon him at the inquiry and that the detective was observing him closely.
Meanwhile Ralph Mainwaring loudly lamented the missing jewels, until it was evident to all that their loss, for the time at least, had completely overshadowed all thought of the tragedy they were investigating.
”They must be recovered at all hazards and at any price,” he said, addressing the detective. ”There were single gems in that collection which cost a fortune and which have been heirlooms in the family for generations.”
After further search which failed to disclose anything of importance, or any clue regarding either the murder or the robbery, arrangements were made for the inquest to be held at three o'clock that afternoon, and the party was about to leave the apartments, when Mr. Whitney paused.
”One moment, gentlemen; there is one more point I would like investigated. I maintain that we have not yet discovered the most essential clue to this case--something to throw light on the possible motive which prompted the murder of Hugh Mainwaring. I now wish to make a final trial. Mr. Scott, will you once more open Mr. Mainwaring's desk for us and take out the will that was deposited there yesterday?”
Ralph Mainwaring started. ”The will? You surely do not think--”
”I think it might be safer in our own possession,” said the attorney, with a peculiar smile.
”And right you are!” added Mr. Thornton, approvingly. ”I wonder you had not thought of that yourself, Mainwaring.”
Meanwhile, Scott, having opened the desk in compliance with the attorney's request, had looked for the will where he had last seen it on the preceding day, and, failing to find it, was searching through the numerous receptacles containing Mr. Mainwaring's private papers.
The silence around him became oppressive, and suddenly looking up, he encountered the glance of both Mr. Whitney and the detective, the former with an expression of triumph in his keen eyes. Perplexed and bewildered, Scott exclaimed in a mechanical tone,--
”The will is gone; it is nowhere to be found!”
”I thought as much,” said the attorney, quietly.
CHAPTER VI
THE INQUEST
The crowd, which early in the day had gathered about Fair Oaks, instead of diminis.h.i.+ng, seemed rather to increase as the hours slipped away. Little by little the facts became known to outsiders,--the loss of the old family jewels, concerning whose existence and probable value vague rumors had been circulated in the past, the drawing up of the will on the preceding day and its strange disappearance in connection with the sudden and mysterious death of the testator,--all combined to arouse public interest and curiosity to an unusual degree; it seemed the culmination of the impenetrable mystery which for years had shrouded the place.
As the hour for the inquest approached, the crowd was augmented by each suburban train, until a throng of business men of all cla.s.ses, interspersed with numerous reporters eager for the details of the affair, covered the grounds and even sought admittance to the house, for the millionaire broker, though a man of few intimate friends.h.i.+ps, was widely known and honored in the financial and commercial world.
Shortly after the arrival of the 2.45 train from the city, the Mainwaring carriage came rapidly up the avenue, two or three other carriages following in the rear. As it stopped, Mr. Whitney alighted, followed by an elderly gentleman of fine appearance and two officers of the special police, who immediately began to force back the crowd, while the attorney and his companion hastily entered the house and were met by the butler, who, in response to a hurried inquiry, directed them up-stairs.
In the private library they found the detective who had been left there alone at his own request. There was a brief interview between the three, after which Mr. Whitney begged his companion to excuse him for a moment, and beckoning Mr. Merrick into the tower-room, asked eagerly,--
”Well, what success? Have you struck the trail?”
With an enigmatical smile, the detective replied, ”The game has doubled back on the trail pretty adroitly, but I have made one or two little discoveries that may be of value later. What do you think of this?”
Opening a small note-book, he took therefrom several pieces of burnt paper, most of which were so blackened that the faint traces of writing which they bore were illegible. On a few pieces, however, words and parts of words could be distinctly read.
Mr. Whitney studied the bits of discolored paper for a moment, and then exclaimed in excited tones,
”Good heavens, man! it is the will! The will drawn up in these rooms yesterday! See, here is the date, 'this seventh day of July, in the year of our'--the rest is gone.”