The Last Stroke: A Detective Story Page 10

  CHAPTER X.

  THIS HELPS ME.

  The three men were now standing grouped about the table with itsscattered books and manuscripts, and Ferrars bent toward Robert Brierly,putting a hand upon his shoulder.

  "Brierly," he said, "sit down; this thing is using up your strength. Iwill tell you what I think of all this, and then we must lock up thisplace for a little while just as it is." And as Brierly obedientlydropped into the chair which the doctor quickly placed beside him, thedetective resumed.

  "Since yesterday half a dozen theories have suggested themselves to mymind as possible explanations of this very daring murder, for I am nowfully convinced that it is nothing less; but I make it a rule never toaccept, much less announce, a belief, until I have established at leasta reasonable series of corroborative circumstances. This I have notdone entirely to my satisfaction, and so we will not go into the theoryof the case, but will see what facts we have established; and factnumber one, to my mind, is this: Your brother, Mr. Brierly, was mostcertainly shot down with malice aforethought. He could not have shothimself, and no one, in that open place, could have killed him byaccident. He may have been entirely unaware of it, but he had an enemy;and the deed of yesterday was planned, I believe, long ago, and studiedcarefully in every detail."

  Robert Brierly flushed and paled. He opened his lips as if to speak, butthe detective's eyes were steadfastly turned away, and he resumed almostat once.

  "I blame myself that I did not establish myself here last night, as I atfirst thought of doing. But it is too late for useless regret. And now,about this boy. Have you, either of you, a thought, a suspicion, as tohis identity?"

  The doctor shook his head.

  "You can't suspect one of the pupils, surely?" hazarded Brierly.

  "Be sure that Mrs. Fry knows every pupil in Glenville, by sight, atleast; and this lad was a stranger, remember. It was a clever lad whofirst secured the key to these rooms and then decoyed Mrs. Fry half wayacross the town perhaps. How long must it have taken her, Doc, to go andcome, in haste?"

  "Quite half an hour, I should think."

  "Well, we will assure ourselves of that later. Now we will suppose thatthis strange boy was acquainted with these rooms to some extent, andthat he was, I fully believe. When Mrs. Fry is out of sight--and weknow, from her story, that he was careful that she should be before heleft his station upon the front porch--he slips indoors and evidentlyknows where to look for a lamp, which he does not light until he isinside this room." And Ferrars put a finger upon the match remarked uponby Mrs. Fry. "Now, as Mrs. Fry observed, there has been quite a film ofdust in the air for the past twenty-four hours, so that, in spite of thegood woman's tidy ways, it has accumulated upon this dark and shiningwood." And he put down his finger and called their attention to itsprints upon the table at his side.

  "When we entered this room," he went on, "and I took it upon myself tolook at that window with the swinging blind, under pretence of openingthe shutters, I first noted that the visitor had left us a clue to hisidentity--several clues, indeed. Before seeing these I had thought thatthe boy was only an advance guard for some one else, but I see I waswrong. It was the boy, and a very keen and clever boy, who entered herealone. See upon this table, upon the window sills, and upon the desk,the prints of one, two, and sometimes all four, small slender fingers."

  Ferrars paused a moment, while they examined the dust prints, faint butyet clear, upon the dark wood, and making lines of clearer colour uponthe painted brown of the window sills.

  "And what," asked Brierly, speaking for the first time since thedetective began his explanation--"what was his real object?"

  "His real object! Ah, I see you have been observant, and if I am notmuch mistaken he has left something; but the things he took were takensolely to cover up the real reason of his coming. Mr. Charles Brierly'spistol, his watch, and the foreign bijouterie were so little wanted bythis remarkable boy that he will no doubt get rid of them in some way atthe first opportunity. All but one thing."

  "And that?" asked Brierly, breathlessly.

  Ferrars walked over to the writing-desk and signed them to follow."Observe that letter file!" he said. "There is not much upon it, billsfor school books, two or three circulars, and so on, but observe thatthis file hangs over the top of the desk, so that anything falling fromit would touch just here. He moistened the tip of a forefinger, and,touching with it a small bit of paper lying upon the top of the desk andjust below the letter file, he lifted it deftly, and they all sawbeneath it the dust of the previous day upon the polished surface.

  "This," said Ferrars, holding out the bit of paper upon the palm of hishand, "was torn from something pulled from this file since Mrs. Frydusted the furniture here yesterday morning, after Charles Brierly leftthe house. See, as the paper was pulled from the file this bit came off,because it was attached at the corner, as you see. It is a fragment froma newspaper. If it had been a letter the paper would not have parted soreadily; it would merely have torn through."

  It was, indeed, a tiny scrap of newspaper, not of the best quality, andnot half an inch from the smoothly-cut corner to the ragged edge, wherethe file had perforated it.

  "The slip of printed paper from which this was torn," said Ferrars, "wasthe one thing which was taken from this room because it was wanted! Therest were merely carried away as a blind."

  "But," asked the doctor, "why did he make this search among the booksand papers?"

  "To find perhaps this very thing," replied Ferrars. "But his first andmost important errand was this." He drew forth the letter given into hishands by Robert Brierly, and held it toward them. "Witness the thingitself. It bears no post-mark, it never did bear one, and it is thrustinto the most conspicuous place, doubtless, after some looking about, insearch of a better. I do not know its contents but I guess."

  A gesture from Brierly cut short his speech. "Read it, both of you," hesaid, with something like a groan. "And tell me what it means."

  Ferrars drew forth the sheet of note paper and slowly unfolded it. For amoment he scrutinised the page with a frown, and then began to read--

  "Mr. Charles Brierly: I don't know why I should be drawn into your love affair any further, and I have said my last word about your friend, Miss G----. One would think that the proofs you have already had would be more than enough. She is not the first woman, with a pretty face and an innocent way, who has fooled and tricked a man. Why don't you ask her and have it out? You'll find she can scratch as well as the rest of her sex. One word more, when you have had it out with her, beware! Especially if she weeps and forgives you. Remember the 'woman scorned.'

  "Don't write me again. I shall not answer any more questions. And, remember your promise, don't let her dream that you ever heard of me. I shall feel safer. So good-bye and good luck. Yours, J. B."

  Ferrars folded up this strange letter slowly, saying:

  "This document has no date and no post office address." He held it inhis hand for a moment in silence, looking at it thoughtfully, then. "Ishould like to retain this," he said, looking at Brierly, "as one of thedocuments in the case." And as Brierly silently bowed his assent, headded: "Have you formed an opinion concerning this letter?"

  "I believe it is a shameful trick," declared Robert Brierly, hotly. "Anattempt on the part of some person or persons to injure Miss Grant, whostands to me as a sister henceforth. If I am any judge of womankind, sheis as good as she is lovely, and I believe that she mourns my brother'sawful death as only a good, true and loving woman can. I wish you couldand would say the same, Mr. Ferrars."

  "I can say that you have said the only right and manly thing, in myopinion. You don't want to know what I think, however, but what can bedone? And, first, this affair must be kept between ourselves. Thisletter makes it all the more important. If it has been put here tomislead justice and to make trouble, perfect silence regarding it willbe the most baffling and perplexing course we can pursue. And it maylead to
some further manifestation. The word must go out at once thatMr. Brierly has desired these rooms closed for the present, witheverything to remain untouched. Meantime I consider that we have got ourhands upon some strong clues, if we can find the way to develop themaright. Don't ask me anything more now, gentlemen. I want time to studyover this morning's discoveries, and Mr. Brierly, it is time youbreakfasted."

  At this moment there came a quick tap at the door, and Mrs. Fry's voicewas heard without. At a signal from Ferrars, Doctor Barnes opened thedoor.

  "Gentlemen," began the little woman in eager explanation, "I don't wantto interrupt."

  "We are just going," said the doctor politely.

  "Oh, well, I got to thinking, after I went downstairs, and it came intomy mind that I didn't see Miss Grant's picture on the top of thewriting-desk up here. Mr. Brierly had had it three weeks or so, and heshowed it to me himself and says, 'Mrs. Fry, this picture is in itsproper place here in my room. You and Nellie both know and love MissGrant, and so I may tell you that she is to be my wife some day, Godwilling.'" The woman's voice broke at the last word, and Robert Brierlymade a quick stride back toward the desk. But Ferrars said,unconcernedly, "Thank you, Mrs. Fry; we shall find it in the desk, Ifancy," and then he explained to her Mr. Brierly's desire that the roomsremain closed to all curious visitors until further notice, adding thatthey would close the outside blinds and be downstairs directly; then,shutting the door upon the woman's retreating form, and softly turningthe key in the lock again, Ferrars went to the desk, and, catching backBrierly's extended hand, said, "Wait!"

  He came closer to the desk and bent to scan at the top shelf.

  "Look," he said after a moment, "do you see that line, close to theback, where the dust is not quite so apparent? The picture has beentaken from there." He took hold of the back and pulled the desk from thewall a few inches.

  "Ah," he exclaimed, "I thought so!" and dropping upon one knee he drewout two pieces of cardboard. "I thought so," he repeated as he arose,and there was a steely gleam in his eyes as he held out to view the twohalves of a fine picture of Hilda Grant, torn across the middle as if bya firm and vindictive hand. "This helps me," he said, with a touch oftriumph in his voice. "It helps me more than all the rest."

  He made a movement as if to put the picture together with the letterwhich he had put down upon the desk-top, into a capacious inner pocket,and then suddenly withdrew his hand and bestowed them elsewhere, for,thrust into that safe side pocket, so convenient and capacious, was afolded newspaper, from which a "clipping" had been carefully cut, apaper which he had found in the rack near the desk, and had secreted, ashe thought, unseen, at his earliest opportunity.