Part 32 (2/2)
The chief grew visibly disturbed. So this was the end of Britz's maneuvering! Failure appeared to be written in large capitals across the investigation.
”You don't mean to imply that an outsider committed the murder?” Manning blurted.
”Not for an instant,” answered Britz. ”I have simply been a.n.a.lyzing the evidence as it concerns the four suspects individually. Were there nothing else, I confess we should be compelled to look elsewhere for the a.s.sa.s.sin. But all the evidence, taken as a whole, leads irresistibly to the conclusion that one of them shot Whitmore. There is not the slightest trace of any outside agency having been employed.”
”But if they're individually innocent, how can they be collectively guilty?” demanded the chief.
”You've misconceived my meaning,” said Britz. ”You know, in a general way, what has been accomplished in the case. So you must be aware of the peculiar actions of all four of the suspects. The fact that they engaged Luckstone to look after their interests argues a guilty knowledge of Whitmore's death. Then, their silence, their fear of saying something that might incriminate one or all of them--it is impossible to reconcile their conduct with innocence! No. When you survey the entire case, you cannot escape the conviction that Whitmore met his death at the hands of one of them.”
”But man alive,” broke in the chief, ”what evidence have you? Why, you're further away from the solution of the crime than when you started.”
”Not at all!” Britz a.s.sured him. ”We're going to solve the case to-morrow morning, in this very room.”
Manning and Greig looked at each other in blank bewilderment. In the light of Britz's explanation of the case, his confident a.s.sertion could only be regarded as a vain boast. Or was it the expression of a last, flickering hope, to which he clung desperately, like a man staking his last dollar on a thousand-to-one chance?
”What I want you to see clearly,” the detective continued, ”is the utter futility of trying to discover the murderer through an investigation from the outside. Almost from the outset I realized the utter impossibility of endeavoring to single out the a.s.sa.s.sin through following the ordinary clues. That's the reason I directed the entire investigation along a single line--the only line that could possibly lead to success.”
The faces of Manning and Greig grew more clouded. They could comprehend the reasoning which cleared the suspects, but they were unable to understand by what contradiction of logic Britz meant to upset his own conclusion.
”Let me make myself clear to you,” Britz proceeded. ”Such evidence as we have, or such as we might be permitted to present to a jury, all tends to establish the innocence of Mrs. Collins, Ward and Beard. On the other hand, it gives a guilty aspect to Collins's conduct. Yet I am convinced that Collins did NOT do the shooting, while one of the others did.
”There is only one way in which we can single out the murderer. I have found that way.”
To the two listeners Britz's statement sounded almost like a confession of failure. It was an indirect admission that he had not learned the ident.i.ty of the murderer--that he had nothing on which to base a direct accusation.
”We've got to break their silence!” Britz exclaimed impressively. ”As long as they remain mute, they are safe. But I've found the way to make them talk--I know where their interests conflict and to-morrow I shall bring them in violent conflict with each other. The result is inevitable.”
It was plain from their expressions that Manning and Greig did not share Britz's confidence. They could foresee only disaster. And in the state of nervous depression in which they found themselves they were unable to offer a word of encouragement to the detective. But Britz did not require their encouragement, his own self-confidence being sufficient to sustain him.
”Keep alert to every advantage to-morrow,” he enjoined them. ”You'll catch what I'm doing and I want you to add emphasis to everything I do and say.”
As Manning and Greig were about to depart, Britz made a final effort to dispel the gloomy forebodings that possessed them.
”Don't look so glum!” he said, laying a rea.s.suring hand on their shoulders. ”We can't lose. Not only are there grave conflicting interests among them, but I shall invoke against their silence an all-conquering force--the most potent force in all human conduct.”
”What is it?” asked Manning and Greig eagerly.
”Love.”
CHAPTER XXI
Both Britz and Manning were skilled in the art of concealing their emotions. Their brains might be working furiously, their hearts throbbing with excitement, they might be laboring under the greatest stress of mind, yet they were able to command a placid exterior, unruffled as polished ivory.
Their conduct as they entered the Police Headquarters the following morning gave no suggestion of the strain which they were undergoing.
Their faces reflected none of the anxious expectancy with which they looked forward to the enactment of the great climax in the Whitmore case.
But the trained newspaper man, as well as the skilled police officer, is endowed with a peculiar instinct by which he seems to detect, without apparent reason, the presence of impending excitement. He seems to smell it in the air. So that even before Britz began issuing instructions to his men and sending them scurrying out of the building, the reporters at Police Headquarters appeared to know that something of the utmost importance was about to transpire.
That it concerned the Whitmore case became evident when Mrs. Collins was escorted to the building and ushered into Britz's office. She was followed in a few minutes by Collins, Ward and Beard, all of whom had been summoned by Britz.
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