Читать книгу The Huddle - Carolyn Wells - Страница 6

Table of Contents

AT dinner that night, Rosella Allenby sat alone in her usual place at the table. She forbade herself to think about the dear companion who had for so long sat opposite and smiled at her across the flowers.

Matilda had urged her to send for some friend to dine with her, but the girl refused. Only twenty-two, she had the savoir faire of a much older woman, and all the wisdom and experience of the younger generation of today.

The dinner was served with the punctilio that always characterized the Allenby menage, and though Rosella was deep in thought she ate the food that Hecker brought, with her usual appetite.

An odd girl, Rosella. She had inherited her father’s fine traits of justice and of generalship, but from her mother she had a vein of obstinacy that made itself strongly felt at times. This had amused her father, who had not tried to eradicate it, but had taught her to use it to advantage. Her name, which she hated, was an example of her mother’s determination, and, combining the names of her two grandmothers, was wished on the child, in spite of her father’s disapproval. And now she was meeting the situation which had come to her. She decided at once to grasp the tragedy and plan her dealings with it, before she let herself succumb to the grief and desolation which lay ahead of her.

Her father was dead—was murdered. She must consider him first, must discover and punish the wretch who had done this thing, must avenge the crime. Then she could feel sorry for herself, could consider plans for her future, could take up life again.

Systematic, as always, she planned her first moves at once. Calling Hecker, she bade him telephone Mr. Fenn, her father’s lawyer, and ask him to come to see her as soon as possible.

He said he would be there in half an hour, and Rosella calmly went on with her dinner.

“Hecker,” she said, as he brought her coffee, “you will have new responsibilities now. There will be dreadful consequences following the death of my father. There will be horrible publicity, which we cannot avoid, and there will be unfortunate disclosures and anxious questions which will be hard to meet properly. I know I can depend on you, you have wise judgment and quick wits. I’m not asking you to stand by me, for I know you’ll do that, but I want to ask you to keep a close watch on the other servants. No one else has the opportunities you have to watch them and study them. I do not, now, suspect any of them of any wrongdoing, but—they say, a man’s foes may be of his own household—so I want you to report to me any least thing that seems to you peculiar about their behavior.”

“I understand, Miss Rosella, and since you speak so kindly, I feel sure that I don’t have to tell you that I will do everything I can to help you in any way possible. You may trust me.”

The simplicity of his last words carried conviction and Rosella gave him a nod and a sad little smile and said no more.

When the lawyer came, she received him in the office where Robert Allenby had held his last confab that afternoon.

She wore a simple black silk frock, and met David Fenn with a dignified air that quite made him change his proposed manner of address.

He had expected to treat her in a protective, guardian way, but found she looked for nothing of that sort.

She listened to his first expressions of sympathy, but as they were expanded with voluble emphasis, she interrupted him.

“I know you will understand, Mr. Fenn, when I tell you I’d rather not speak of my grief. It is too new, too much of a shock for me to talk calmly about it just yet. Please talk to me tonight on a business basis.”

A little bewildered, Fenn said, “Yes, of course, Miss Allenby,” and wondered if the tragedy had affected her reason.

“A few questions, first,” she said. “How much do you know about my father’s death?”

“Only what Hecker told me, when he let me in just now.”

“Very well. I can tell you all I know, in a few words. My father had a business meeting in this room, this afternoon. He left the other men to get some papers from the safe in his bedroom, and was stabbed to death while there. That is all I know, so far. Now I propose to track down the murderer and avenge the crime. And I must do it in my own way, without advice or assistance, except as I ask for them. I put this plainly, for if you are willing to act as my lawyer, with this understanding, I shall be glad to have you do so. If not, I shall have to employ someone else. I know you think me young and ignorant, but you will find that is not entirely true.”

Rosella looked wistful, and again Fenn restrained his impulse to tell her that she could not assume the part of dictator in legal matters.

He said, “I have been your father’s legal advisor for many years, Miss Allenby; he had confidence in me, as perhaps you know. Should you care to have me, I shall be glad to serve you, and I should not presume to advise you other than in strictly legal matters.”

“That is satisfactory, Mr. Fenn, and I shall have the same confidence in you that my father had. Now, I am right, am I not, in assuming that I am the chief beneficiary under my father’s will?”

“Yes, Miss Allenby. Save for some minor bequests and payments, you inherit the bulk of his property—a very large fortune.”

“All my own, to do exactly as I please with?”

“Yes, entirely so.”

“Then please see to it that I always have a large sum of ready money where I can draw on it, with no delay. This does not mean that I am unduly extravagant, but that I want to have cash always at my disposal.”

“I see. And rest assured it shall be just as you wish. But are you sure your father did not put your affairs in the hands of a guardian or trustees?”

“I am sure he did not, for I asked him not to, and Dad had a way of humoring me.”

“I’m sure he did not, too, for I drew up the will, and he left the money to you absolutely, with no strings of any kind tied to it. You have relatives, you know, Miss Allenby?”

“Yes, but we are not congenial. I suppose father left them proper bequests.”

“Yes, generous ones, indeed. But not enough to make any dent in your residuary.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of that. They are welcome to whatever Dad thought right. Now, Mr. Fenn, as I said, I’m going to track down my father’s murderer, and while I do not ask your assistance, I do want your authority and your backing. I propose to employ a superior detective of whom I have heard, a Mr. Stone. Do you know him?”

“By reputation, yes. He is one of the best. Expensive, they say; but you probably know that.”

“Yes, and I don’t mind, if only he succeeds. I will engage him, you understand, I will make the arrangements and I will work with him so far as possible, but I want you to stand up for me. If you hear criticisms of my strange behavior, just say that I am wilful and even obstinate. That I have every right to do as I choose, and that I am actuated by no motive but to avenge the crime of my father’s death.”

“Yes, I understand and sympathize with your intentions, but I warn you you may attain a publicity that you will not enjoy.”

“That is my own affair and I will chance it. If this Mr. Stone is as clever as he is said to be, he will conduct the investigation of the crime. I shall not, probably, do anything definite.”

“You may. Young people are amazingly active these days. May I ask you, should you find yourself in any quandary, or even uncertainty, that you will refer to me? I assure you I shall not be insistent or dictatorial, but I might render you timely assistance.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fenn, I may be very glad to avail myself of your offer. I don’t want to get into any mess, for that might reflect against Dad’s memory, and, too, I want to preserve my own dignity. But I am stubborn and I do like to have my own way. So, since you have promised me what I want from you, may I ask you to come again to see me at some other time, for, as you may suppose, I need rest after today’s experiences.”

“Yes, I will go now. But, Miss Allenby, what about other questions? Will the news be in the morning papers? You will be swamped with reporters, you will be besieged by tradesmen and specialty houses, the insurance people will turn up, friends will come, you must have some help.”

“Yes,” she said, equably, “I have thought of those things. I shall have my father’s secretary come here tomorrow. He is a capable man, and knows all about Dad’s business affairs. Also a nice young woman who has been in his office for years. They will see reporters, and take care of business callers. A dear friend of mine will come to attend to social duties, and I think I’ll manage all right. I shall have a talk with those three men that were here this afternoon, and see what to do about that Concession affair.”

Realizing that he had found a new specimen of modern femininity, Fenn went away to think it all over and to get busy on the settlement of the affairs of the late Robert G. Allenby.

Rosella set about her own plans. She called up the friend from whom she had heard of Fleming Stone, and at whose home she had once met the detective. Then, guardedly, she told her of the death of her father, and asked her to call Fleming Stone, and urge him to take the case and to begin the first moment he could do so.

The result of this quick action was that Fleming Stone was sitting in the Allenby library within half an hour.

With a grave yet kindly face he listened to Rosella Allenby’s request for his help.

She looked at him straightforwardly.

“You mustn’t think I am crazy,” she said, unsmiling, “but I have a feeling that if my father’s murderer is found, it will be due to your starting in right at the beginning. He was killed by a man who entered the apartment from the rear, stabbed his victim, and was out again so quickly that he left no trace. Can’t you pick up a clue now, right now, that maybe you couldn’t find later on?”

“Your idea is a good one, Miss Allenby, but I think it likely that a man who put across such a masterly crime is not leaving a trail of evidence behind him. I will take the case, and I will have a look around tonight, as you suggest, but I’ve little hope of any findings of a material nature. Still, such a thing might happen. Let us go in there now, and discuss matters more fully afterward.”

Rosella took him to the office which adjoined the library, and across it to the door which led to her father’s bedroom.

She showed him where her father lay when she last saw him, and Stone looked carefully at the couch, which was covered with jade green damask.

It was overstuffed, with deep tufts and Stone ran his hand carefully along the crevice between the back and the seat.

When he pulled out his hand, slowly and carefully, it held a knife, blood-stained and gruesome looking.

“Doubtless the weapon,” he said, watching the girl.

But she showed no uncontrollable emotion, only a solemn sort of wonder as she stared at the blade.

“An old-fashioned jackknife,” Stone went on. “Brought here by the intruder, perhaps—used, and then quickly hidden in the couch and the man went swiftly away.”

“I suppose so,” she said. “Now, how can you ever find him?”

“I doubt if I can do much toward it tonight. This weapon must be given over to the officer who is left here in charge. It may be a helpful clue. Now let us go back to the library, but first, show me the general plan of the apartment.”

“A simple plan, you see,” said Rosella, as she opened the door from the bedroom to the hall. “A large, square central hall, and rooms on all four sides. Father’s room we just left and next is a guest room, and then turning the corner there is the breakfast-room, the dining-room and the kitchen and servants’ quarters. Turning again, my rooms, another guest room, and then, across the front of the house, the drawing-room, a small reception-room and the library, a corner room, and we are back to the office again.”

“I see,” said Stone, as they walked round the hall, “a beautiful home. Let us go into the library, and then I shall keep you but a short time. We must wait till tomorrow for more definite plans.”

They sat down in the dignified and well-furnished library, and Rosella said, “I don’t believe you ever took on a case under such strange circumstances, Mr. Stone.”

“No, I never did. But the only strangeness is beginning so quickly. And, too, it is strange to have for my employer a mere girl, with no older people to share her responsibilities.”

“But I am really more than a mere girl, Mr. Stone,” Rosella spoke seriously. “I mean I have taken care of myself so long, living without any other woman in the house except my maid who was my nurse, that I feel able to meet emergencies and take care of my affairs. I do not want to be assertive or bumptious, but I want to help you all I can in your work, and also, if possible, take my father’s place in the enterprise he hoped to carry through.”

“I wish you would tell me more of that matter. It isn’t strictly secret, is it?”

“Not from you, certainly. But the plan is not to be made public until more fully developed. Though of course, I don’t know just what will happen now. My father was president of the company, which included only three other men, three friends whom father had known for many years. They were all enthusiastic about it, and though it has to move slowly, it has already made good progress. It has to do with the World’s Fair, and though that seems a long way off, yet lots of concessions are being arranged, and father’s great influence in many ways made him a marvelous one to manage the thing.”

“These men, then, felt sure that the Fair is to be held, and were willing to start in on that assumption?”

“Oh, yes. They would only get the concession and lay their plans first, and if the whole project should fall through there would be no great harm done, and father was willing to underwrite it, or whatever you call it.”

“I see. And do you care to tell me the nature of your father’s plan? It might be of great help in my work on the case.”

“Then, of course, yes. And you won’t broadcast it, will you?”

“No,” Stone said, smiling at her. Rosella was a most likable girl, and almost always made good with older people. They liked her self-possession, founded on a confidence in her own power of doing whatever she set out to do. For Rosella Allenby seldom began anything without feeling that she would be able to finish it.

And, already interested in her father’s Fair plans, she determined to carry on if possible, after the investigation of his death was well placed in capable hands.

“You see,” she began, “the trouble is, it’s such a peculiar idea that anyone hearing of it would imagine it all wrong. Now, if I mentioned a collection of circus freaks, fat woman, living skeleton and all that, what would you visualize?”

“Except that you have warned me that I shall imagine it wrong, I’d say my mental image would be a side-show like that of a circus, including an Albino, a bearded lady, and the usual program.”

“That’s just the point. It is to be a sort of side show of such people, but they will not be of the usual character. They will be fat or lean, dwarf or giant, but they will not be the common, ignorant sort, usually seen in such shows. Can you imagine a Fat Lady, really enormous, but refined, educated, and of gracious manner? Can you picture a Living Skeleton who will be of gentle birth, scholarly and an interesting talker?”

“A glorified lot of Freaks?”

“Not quite that, but a group of men and women of intelligence, sophistication and good taste, correct manners and even the right sense of humor?”

“I begin to picture it, as you tell me of it.”

“Well, that was my father’s idea; a group of such people, each having some physical peculiarity like the circus people have, but in no case repulsive or unsightly. No two-headed girl, no bearded lady, but a dainty dwarf, a wholesome, pleasant giant and a smiling, winsome Albino. I don’t describe them as he did, he could make you see the charm of the plan at once, but I assure you the idea is right, and carried out as he meant it to be, and as I hope it will be, it means success.”

“Yes, I can see the fine idea, and perhaps your father’s partners are sufficiently familiar with his plans to carry on.”

“With my help, not without,” and Rosella looked a bit stubborn. “You see, my father is by far the largest stockholder. I’m not sure if that’s the word, but he has already put in oodles of money, ten times what the others did, and if I withdraw that, and break up the whole game, they would have to give it all up.”

“Such matters are in the hands of your father’s lawyers or trustees, I suppose.”

“Oh, yes, that’s all in the air, but I want you to understand about the Sports.”

“Sports?”

“That’s what they propose to call them. It will really be a side-show at the fair—Midway Plaisance idea, you know—and they don’t want to use the term Freaks at all. Father suggested Sports, meaning a deviation from type, like a sport on a rosebush, not the ordinary sporty idea.”

“I’m getting it—peculiar physically, but admirable mentally.”

“Yes, that’s it. When you know more about it, you’ll see the cleverness of it, and the surety of its success. It will be a wonderful show and a positive money-maker. But there’s time enough for that, and the three men left may not care to carry on alone. But I want you to know the situation.”

“I’m glad you’ve told me. Now give me just a few words of description of the partners. They’re all your father’s long-time friends?”

“Oh, yes. Mr. Curtis, the eldest, is a fine man, with a positive genius for exploring and finding things. He was terribly interested in the opening of the tomb of King Tutankhamen, years ago, you know. He was there at the opening, and though I was a little girl at the time, I remember hearing him tell about it, and seeing all the wonderful treasures he brought home from Egypt.”

“Not from the tomb?”

“I don’t know about that, but he had lots of gold and silver things and curios and trinkets. He gave me a whole big box of beads. Well, ever since, he’s been interested in Egyptian curios, and he knows a funny old Sheikh or something over there whom he’s going to bring over for the show.”

“I think I know Charles Curtis. Sort of invalid, isn’t he?”

“Not quite that, but he has spells occasionally, when he’s nervous and twitchetty, and he isn’t very strong. But he’s terribly clever, and father greatly admired his judgment and opinions.”

“And Peter Barton. He’s a live wire, isn’t he?”

“Oh, yes. He’s younger, but he has travelled everywhere and knows a lot about business methods and organization. He and Munson Davis are chums, and father once said the two of them had enough energy and ingenuity to run the whole Fair. Father liked them both.”

For some reason this reference to her father stirred the girl’s heart to fresh realization of her sorrow, and she said:

“I think we won’t talk much longer, tonight, Mr. Stone. I shall not break down under this great sorrow that has come to me, but I think I can’t stand any more tonight.”

“I think not, too. Are you alone, Miss Allenby?”

“Yes, except for my nurse. She looks after me like a mother, and I am accustomed to fending for myself. One more thing, Mr. Stone. Will the police officers object to my asking your aid? As if I were setting them aside, you know.”

“No, don’t fear anything like that. The police and I are on friendly terms. But I hope you will advise me of anything you may see or hear that has or may have any bearing on the case.”

“Yes, that, of course. And—may I speak freely?”

“Yes, indeed, I hope you will always do that.”

“Then, don’t let the police think there is any possibility of any one of those three men being implicated in this tragedy. Of course, it was nothing definite, but I fancied I heard a tone or saw a look this afternoon that made me feel a fear that Inspector Brice felt a trace of suspicion of—no, it was, I am sure, only my imagination.”

“Of which one of them?”

“Why, it seemed that the Inspector looked at Mr. Curtis with a glance different from that he gave the others.”

“Let me advise you, in all kindliness, not to jump at conclusions. I am sure Brice couldn’t have formed any suspicions in so short a time, and I am also positive he would not have showed it, had he done so. You have much to learn in this field you are about to enter, the field of crime and its investigation, and first of all, get it firmly fixed in your mind that if experienced detectives give what seems a tacit opinion, rest assured it may well be either a mistake on your part, or an intention to mislead on their part. You understand, don’t you?”

“Yes, and I’m glad you told me that. Tell me another thing. Will it inconvenience or annoy the police if I work with them and try to help?”

“To be frank, I must say, yes. That is, unless you turn out to be a genius, an infant prodigy, who can find evidence unknown to others and can deduce correctly from it. I don’t know you very well yet, Miss Allenby, but from my present acquaintance with you, if I were asked to describe you in one word, I’d say—headstrong.”

“You’d be about right,” Rosella told him. “Do you advise me, then, not to try to help?”

“I don’t say that, but I do say you must ask and follow advice from older and more experienced people. You have a lawyer?”

“Yes, my father’s lawyer. He will, of course, have charge of my affairs and will advise me—if I want him to.”

“Do want him to,” Stone said. “You are in a conspicuous position, and I want you to realize that anything you do that is ill-advised may reflect on the memory of your father.”

“You have struck the right argument, Mr. Stone. I shall remember that and act upon it.”