The Case and the Girl Part 6

He retired to the room upstairs, partly for the purpose of exchanging his coat, but also half tempted to make a hasty examination of the valise which Coolidge had thoughtlessly left overnight in the closet.

The conception had already taken strong hold on his mind that his visitor of the evening before had been the mysterious impersonator of Natalie Coolidge; and that she had come there with some deliberate purpose--no-doubt a secret conference with Percival. If her resemblance to the mistress of the house was as remarkable as he had been led to believe, her entrance to the place would be comparatively easy of accomplishment, and the danger of discovery correspondingly small. It never occurred to him to question Natalie's story. To be sure there were details he found it difficult to fully accept as true, but the girl certainly believed all she had told him. She denied earnestly having been the one invading his room, and he believed her implicitly; yet the person who had visited him was so closely her image as to make it still seem almost an impossibility that she could be a separate individual.

Nothing less than Natalie's own word would have brought conviction. And this person had supposed she was visiting the apartment occupied by Percival Coolidge. This was the only satisfactory explanation of her presence there; whether she came that night for the first time, or as a supplement to other similar visits, it was unquestionably Coolidge whom she sought.

For what purpose? To West's mind only one object appeared probable. The man was too far advanced in life--certainly much above sixty from his appearance--to be involved in a love affair with so young and attractive a woman. Moreover in such a case she would scarcely seek him out here in this private home, where he was merely a transient guest; he would never venture to use a place like this as a rendezvous. That was unthinkable.

Some other purpose, demanding immediate attention, must furnish the reason for her venturing to enter this house at such an hour, and coming directly to the room where she supposed Coolidge to be sleeping. To West's mind there could be but one answer. The two were mutually involved in a conspiracy of some nature, undoubtedly connected with the approaching settlement of the Coolidge estate. This girl, so strangely resembling Natalie, had in some way been discovered by the scheming guardian, who was now using her for his own selfish ends. The plot had been carefully perfected, and the time must now be near for execution.

This girl had been selected, and trained to act a part--the part of Natalie Coolidge. Her ability to deceive had been tested in various ways. Now the moment approached when they were ready to play out the real game. Yet the nature of that game was in no way apparent. He could only keep quiet, and wait for some further development, even appear indifferent, while he secretly watched every suspicious movement of Percival Coolidge.

It was not at all probable the satchel contained any incriminating evidence, yet the temptation was strong to obtain, if possible, a hasty glance at the contents. But for this he was already too late, scarcely reaching the room indeed, before s.e.xton appeared, announcing his mission.

West, perched on the arm of a chair, smoking, and watched the man bring forth the valise, and start toward the door.

"Coolidge tells me he usually occupied this room," he ventured curiously, "How did it happen I was put in here?"

s.e.xton paused, and faced about respectfully.

"It was upon orders from Miss Natalie, sir. But she did not mention the change in time to remove the bag. The truth is, I forgot, sir, that it was here."

"Oh, I see; this is not the grip he usually travels with then?"

"No, sir; this was sent down in advance, sir. Mr. Percival Coolidge is here quite frequently."

"Naturally. As I understand he has no home of his own?"

"No, sir; he was never married, sir. In the city he stops at one of the big hotels. Of late he quite frequently spends the end of the week out here, sir. Of course he is deeply interested in the prosperity of the estate."

"As the guardian of Miss Natalie, you mean?"

"Just so, sir."

"How long have you been here, s.e.xton?"

"Sixteen years, sir."

"You knew Miss Natalie's father then, and must enjoy the place to remain so long?"

"It has been very pleasant, sir, until the last month or so,"

regretfully, yet evidently glad of the opportunity to talk, lingering with one hand on the k.n.o.b of the door. "Since then things haven't been just the same."

"In what way?"

"Well, I don't exactly know, sir. Miss Natalie seems to change her mind, an' we never can please her. That's the trouble mostly. Last night I waited up until you all went to bed, an' then locked the house, the way she told me to. But that didn't suit her at all, for she stopped me on the stairs, an' made me go back an' leave the side door unlocked--just said she'd attend to that herself."

"Miss Natalie told you? You are sure, s.e.xton?"

"Oh, it was her, sir; there was a light burning in the hall, an' she was all dressed up as though she was goin' out. 'Taint the first time, either. I ain't got no right to say anything, but it puzzles me what she wants to go out for at that time o' night. And I thought maybe I ought to speak to Mr. Percival Coolidge about it."

"No. I wouldn't, s.e.xton," said West quietly. "It would likely enough only get you into trouble. Probably she cannot sleep well, and so walks in the garden. Anyway this is none of our business, my man. Where are Miss Natalie's apartments?"

"In the other wing, sir; the first door beyond the head of the stairs."

"And the door you were asked to leave open?"

"At the farther end of the hall."

As West made no further effort to continue the conversation, but began to carelessly roll a cigarette, s.e.xton slipped silently through the opening, the valise in his hand, and closed the door behind him. West touched a match to the cigarette, scarcely aware of the action.

This attempt to dig information out of a servant was not a pleasant experience, yet he felt that in this case it was fully justified. To be sure he had gained little, yet that little helped to clear away the fog, and sustain the girl's theory that she was being impersonated by another even to her own servants. If West had retained any lingering doubt as to what had occurred the previous night, this doubt had entirely vanished in the face of s.e.xton's testimony. His visitor, and the one who had ordered the servant to leave the side door unlocked, had been the same--not Natalie Coolidge, but strangely resembling her. Whoever she was, she knew the house well, and possessed some means of entrance. Whatever else her purpose might be, one object was clearly connected with the presence there of Percival. She had sought his room, fleeing immediately on discovering it to be occupied by another. Very well! this meant that he already had two distinct lines of investigation opened to him--the woman, and the man. The first was like pursuing a shadow, but Coolidge was real enough. He determined to keep in touch with the fellow, confident that he would thus be eventually led to a discovery of his companion. Beyond all question, they were involved in the same scheme of conspiracy. West had deliberately arrived at this conclusion, rather pleased at his success, when a gentle knock sounded at the door.

"What is it?"

"s.e.xton, sir. Miss Natalie has the car at the door, and is waiting for you."

"All right. I will be down immediately."

CHAPTER VII

A VISIT TO THE INDIGENT

The guests had either retired to their rooms, or were wandering about the s.p.a.cious grounds; at least none were in evidence when West emerged on to the side terrace, where Miss Natalie and Percival Coolidge waited. The car was an electric runabout, the single broad seat ample for the three, and West found himself next to the girl who took charge.

Few words were exchanged until they turned into the main high-way, headed toward the city. Even then conversation scarcely touched on the special object of their trip. Indeed, Coolidge seemed inclined to avoid the subject entirely, turning the conversation into other channels whenever the matter was broached. This was so persistently done as to arouse West's notice, but Natalie appeared indifferent, interested only in her guidance of the car. It was not a long ride, the point sought being a short submerged street in the southwestern section of the city. To West this district was entirely unknown, even the street names being unfamiliar, but he learned through the conversation of the others that they were in the neighbourhood of some of the Coolidge factories, many of the surrounding houses being the homes of employees. Percival called his attention to a few of these, more substantial than the others, as evidence of the wages paid in their establishments, and also expatiated to some extent upon the benevolent oversight shown their workmen. The girl, however, remained quiet, her attention concentrated upon the street.

Indeed it needed to be if they were to escape accident, for the streets traversed were, on this Sunday morning, evidently filled from curb to curb with children engaged in all manner of games, with their elders ma.s.sed on the steps in front of the houses, watching them apathetically.

The runabout felt its way cautiously forward through the jostling throng of screaming youngsters, and finally turned into Arch Street, only two blocks in length, with low, two storied, wooden cottages on either side.

Percival, plainly nervous at the surroundings, indicated the place sought in the middle of the first block, and Natalie ran the car up against the curb.

"Is this the place?" she asked doubtfully, eyeing the rather disreputable cottage, which seemed deserted. "I have never been here before. What a ma.s.s of kids! Do they always play like that in the street?"

Coolidge unfastened the door, and stepped out.

"Yes, it's all right," he answered sharply. "You might wait here, West; we'll only be gone a few minutes. Come along, Natalie,"

The girl hesitated, evidently not altogether satisfied.

"Is it necessary that I go in?" she asked.

"That was why I asked you to come," impatiently. "Because you understand these matters, and, being a woman, can judge better what steps should be taken. Come; it will only require a few moments--West won't mind."

"Certainly not," the younger man said heartily, "I shall be very comfortable; don't bother about me."

He had a distinct impression that Coolidge did not desire his company any further, yet this suspicion aroused no resentment. This was a matter with which he was in no way concerned, and the only interest he felt was strictly impersonal. His eyes followed the two as they advanced up the board walk to the front door of the cottage, and he felt a measure of surprise at seeing Coolidge calmly open the door without knocking. Both disappeared amidst the darkness within, and he dismissed the whole affair from his mind almost instantly. Sinking comfortably back in the seat, his gaze centred on the maze of children playing in the street. Their antics amused him for some time, but, at last, he began wondering at the delay of those within, and his mind drifted to the peculiar conditions with which he was confronted. Over and over again he reviewed the facts told him, and compared these with his own observations. That something was wrong was beyond doubt; he could no longer question this, but no satisfactory clue to the mystery had yet presented itself. If some conspiracy was on foot against Natalie, what could be its object? and who were directly involved? There was apparently no way to settle this, except to wait patiently for some move on the part of the others. Any attempt at guessing would only lead him astray. Seemingly, Percival Coolidge was the only person who could be directly interested should misfortune occur to his niece; he was the guardian of her inheritance, and responsible for what remained of her father's estate. Undoubtedly he also was the next heir at law. His interest in the matter was therefore easily figured out. Yet there was nothing to prove that the fellow was a villain at heart, or had any reason to attempt desperate methods. The mere fact that some other woman amused herself in pretending to be Natalie proved nothing criminally wrong. It might be a mere lark, with no vicious object in view. Indeed, but for the deep interest West already felt in the girl herself, he would have dismissed this angle of the problem entirely from consideration. It seemed far too melodramatic and improbable to be taken seriously, although, from mere curiosity, he purposed to round up this masquerader, and satisfy himself as to why she was thus publicly impersonating the girl. Yet this appeared a matter of minor importance, his real task being to learn the condition of the Steven Coolidge estate, and whether or not, Percival had administered it justly. Once satisfied upon that point, he would know better what further steps to take. His whole mind had unconsciously centred upon a distrust of the man. He believed him to be a sneaking scoundrel, at present engaged in seeking some means for gaining possession of the trust funds left in his care. And yet, West had to confess to himself that this belief was largely founded upon prejudice--confidence in Natalie, and a personal dislike of the man himself. He possessed no proof of the fellow's perfidy, nor had he even determined in his own mind the means to be employed for learning the truth. He had nothing to build upon but the statement of the girl, which was extremely vague in detail, and largely mere suspicion. The more thoroughly he a.n.a.lyzed the situation the more complicated it became, and the less confident he felt regarding an early solution. If Coolidge was engaged in some criminal scheme the man was certainly shrewd enough to carefully cover his trail. It was no sudden temptation to which he had yielded, but a deeply laid plan, formed, perhaps, as long ago as his brother's death, and now just coming to a head. Even the books of the estate might have been so carefully manipulated as to leave no clue. Besides West possessed no authority by which to examine the books, or even question the bankers in whose hands the funds were supposed to be. The only immediate hope of striking a trail apparently lay in his discovery of the strange woman who was impersonating Natalie Coolidge, and learning her object in carrying on such a masquerade. Of course, even that might lead nowhere in particular, as she might be merely amusing herself, and have no connection with Percival whatever; yet such an investigation offered a chance not to be neglected.

His glance took in the surroundings, but with no conception that they would have any direct bearing upon the mystery he was endeavouring to solve. It was a block of irregular houses, a tenement on the corner, a dirty looking brick, the other houses of wood, mostly two stories in height, rather disreputable in appearance, but the one before which the machine waited, was a frame cottage, well back from the street, and rather respectable in appearance, although it must have been some years since last painted. Its original white was dingy, and the tightly closed blinds gave an appearance of desertion. The door was shut. The chimney indicated no sign of smoke, the front yard gave every evidence of long neglect.

An urchin, chasing a ball, plunged recklessly beneath the auto, emerging with the sphere in his grimy fist. West stopped him with a question.