Part 34 (1/2)

”No,” snapped Britz.

”Why not?”

”Because it isn't necessary.”

”Then you accept them?”

”Yes--without question.”

”But if none of the accused was within miles of Whitmore's office on the morning in question, how do you connect any of them with the actual commission of the crime?”

Britz rose and took up a position at the side of the desk, where he could see every fleeting emotion that might cross the faces of all the others in the room. His form stiffened to military erectness, his face took on the purposeful aspect of a man about to carry to fruition plans which he had long nourished in secret. And as the others gazed on him, the conviction forced itself on them that here was a man who would pursue whatever course he had in mind, pitilessly, relentlessly, through whatever wilderness of lies and deceit it might lead. A cold silence fell on them, as if they had been suddenly chilled by the frigid att.i.tude of the detective.

”Coroner, the alibis which Mr. Luckstone presented are worthless,” the detective said in a subdued voice that nevertheless penetrated his hearers like an icy wind.

”You mean they are manufactured?” blurted the coroner.

”No--they are true. But they have no bearing on the murder.”

”What!” The coroner shot a searching glance at Britz. ”If none of the suspects was at Whitmore's office, how could any of them have killed Whitmore?”

”Mr. Whitmore was not killed in his office,” said Britz firmly. ”He was shot the night before.”

CHAPTER XXII

The words came like a stunning blow where a verbal counter-argument was expected. Luckstone and his clients sat like beings who felt the ground slipping from under them, yet were helpless in the paralyzing fear that had seized them. The coroner's eyes traveled from Britz to Manning and Greig, as if seeking confirmation of the detective's statement. But he found only amazement written in their features.

Coroner Hart was the first to recover from the surprise occasioned by Britz's revelation. He became aware of a growing skepticism that refused to accept so obvious an explanation of the puzzling circ.u.mstances surrounding the merchant's death. Surely the same solution would have suggested itself to him ere this were it possible for twenty hours to have elapsed between the time of the shooting and the discovery that Whitmore was dead!

”If Whitmore was shot the night before, then he must have deliberately chosen his office in which to die!” the coroner said in disparagement of Britz's contention. ”Why, it's impossible! I should have detected it the moment I saw the wound.”

Britz now produced the enlarged photograph of the wound as well as the needle that he had found on the floor of Whitmore's office.

”It is all very simple--so simple that I eliminated the theory that Whitmore was killed in his office at the very outset of the investigation. The very preparations that were made to delude us contained the evidence of their own clumsy manufacture. Look at the photograph of this wound!” Britz held the photograph edgewise on his desk. ”Do you observe the perforations about the edge of the wound? They tell the whole story. That wound had been sewed up and was opened again with this needle.” He held up the slim, steel darning needle to the light.

”But why--why should he do this?” broke in the coroner. ”It must have been torture!”

”It was,” Britz agreed.

”But the loaded pistol on his desk--how do you explain that?”

”I repeat, Whitmore was shot the night before,” replied Britz. ”It was a mortal wound. The spleen had been penetrated and he was beyond the aid of medical science.

”The doctor that was summoned undoubtedly told him he was doomed. There was no way to stop the internal bleeding, but the patient might live anywhere from twenty-four to seventy-two hours. We are all familiar with the uncertainties of gunshot wounds--the medical records overflow with cases of wonderful endurance shown by persons suffering from pistol wounds.

”Now what did Whitmore do? Why, he decided to conceal the evidence of his own murder. He instigated the conspiracy to s.h.i.+eld his murderer.

Moreover he determined to make it appear that he had committed suicide.

So he went to his office in the morning armed with the pistol and the needle. It was unquestionably his intention to fire a second shot into the wound but first it was necessary to open it and he did so at great pain. He died, whether from shock or weakness, before his hand was able to reach the pistol on his desk. Had he been able to accomplish what was in his mind, his clerks would have heard the shot, the authorities would have found the pistol and the conclusion of suicide would have been accepted without question.”