Part 28 (2/2)
”It is the only theory feasible; you have convinced me of that.”
”Yet this does not answer my question altogether. You are convinced now, perhaps, because you accept my word, but how have you kept faith in me when you believed just as strongly that it was actually I who met and talked with you? I who was playing in the game with the man Hobart?”
”Will you believe what I say?”
”Implicitly.”
”Perhaps it sounds like a fairy tale,” he spoke frankly, his eyes seeking her own, all their surroundings forgotten in the eagerness of the moment, ”but I will tell you the exact truth. Before this misunderstanding occurred you had confided in me, trusted me, although I was a stranger and I believed absolutely in your story. I had that basis to rest on. In addition to this, those few hours I pa.s.sed at 'Fairlawn' served to confirm my faith. I got hold of various odds and ends of evidence which convinced me that something was wrong--that you were actually being conspired against. I even gained a suspicion that Percival Coolidge was the actual leader of the conspiracy.”
”Percival Coolidge! but why? What could he gain by such a crime?”
”I have not found the answer yet, but my conviction remains strong--stronger, indeed, than ever since our talk last night. You could never have been made prisoner in that cottage without his connivance; he must have lured you there for that particular purpose, so that this other girl could take your place without danger of discovery. It was a neat trick, so well done as to even deceive me. The reason for Percival's partic.i.p.ation is only a guess, but my theory is the fellow had so juggled your fortune, and the time for final accounting was so near, he had to take a desperate chance in order to save himself.”
”You mean the opportunity came, and he could not resist?”
”Perhaps so, and perhaps it was his own deliberate plan. That remains to be discovered. My own theory is that when Hobart learned what Percival Coolidge proposed doing, his own criminal tendencies told him that here was some easy money. The girl was undoubtedly wholly under his control; some denizen of the underworld probably. She had already played her part sufficiently well to convince Hobart of success. Why then, shouldn't he have this money instead of Percival? There was no reason except that Percival was in the way. That was why he was killed.”
”By Hobart?”
”He may not have fired the shot, but I have no doubt he inspired it; and the job was so expertly done the coroner called it suicide. The way was open; you were a prisoner, and the false Natalie Coolidge safely installed as mistress of 'Fairlawn.' No one apparently suspected anything wrong.”
”And,” she questioned breathlessly, ”the man meant to murder me also?”
”Not at that time in my judgment,” West answered thoughtfully. ”Such an additional crime was not a part of the original plan. There was no apparent necessity. Your estate was about to be settled finally, and given over to your control in accordance with the terms of your father's will. Hobart must have known all this from Percival Coolidge, and exactly what steps must be taken to secure it. Once the money, and other property, were delivered to the fake Natalie, the cas.h.i.+ng in and get away would be easy; even the ident.i.ty of the thieves would be concealed.
Killing you was not at all necessary to the success of their scheme.”
”But they did try to kill me.”
”Yes, later, by the sinking of the yacht. Probably I am largely responsible for that.”
”You?”
”Yes; the persistency with which I stuck to the trail. They became frightened. My appearance in Wray Street must have been quite a shock, and when I succeeded in escaping from their trap there, Hobart very evidently lost his head completely. He did not dare risk my ever finding you. The knowledge that I was free, perhaps in communication with the police, led to your night trip to the _Seminole_, and the secret sinking of the yacht. He had gone too far by then to hesitate at another murder.”
She waited breathlessly for him to go on, her eyes on the tumbling waste of water. He remained quiet, motionless, and she turned toward him expectantly.
”I--I think I understand now,” she admitted, ”how all this occurred; but why--why were you so persistent? There--there must have been a reason more impelling than a vague suspicion?”
”There was--the most compelling impulse in the world.”
”You mean faith in me?”
”Even more than that; love for you. Natalie, listen; what I have to say may sound strange, cruel even under such conditions as now surround us, but you force me to say them. I love you, have loved you all the time, without fully realizing exactly what it meant. There have been times when I have doubted you, when I could not wholly escape the evidence that you were also concerned personally in this fraud. I have endeavoured to withdraw from the case, to forget, and blot everything from memory. But something stronger than will prevented; I could not desert you; could not believe you were wilfully wrong. You understand what I mean.”
”Yes,” the words barely reaching him. ”It was the other girl; she undermined your faith.”
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