The House Opposite Part 33

"'How convenient! I am staying there also; so, instead of discussing our little differences in the street, let us drive back to the hotel at once,' and, before I realised what he was doing, he had hailed a cab. I started back.

"'Don't make a scene in public,' he commanded, and his manner became suddenly so fierce that I was fairly frightened, and obeyed him automatically. A moment later I was being driven rapidly up town.

"'I don't live at the Waldorf,' I at last acknowledged, as we were nearing Thirty-third street.

"'Of course not, and your name isn't Smith; I know that; but where shall I tell the coachman to drive to?'

"There was no help for it; I had to give my real address.

"'And now let us decide when I shall call on you. I don't mind selecting a time when my rival is out. You see, I am very accommodating--at present,' he added, significantly.

"What was I to do? I dared not refuse him. I knew you would be out of town the following evening, so agreed to see him then. He did not follow me into the Rosemere, as I was afraid he might, but drove quickly off.

I wrote and telegraphed at once to Pa, asking him to make sure that my divorce was perfectly legal. I hoped that I might receive a rea.s.suring answer before the time set for my interview with Brown, in which case I should simply refuse to receive him and confess to you my previous marriage as soon as you returned. Then I should have nothing more to dread from him. That day and the next, however, went by without a word from Father. I couldn't understand his silence. It confirmed my worst fears. As the time when I expected my tormentor drew near, I became more and more nervous. I feared and hoped I knew not what from this meeting. I told both my girls they might go out, as I did not wish them to know about my expected visitor, and then regretted I had left myself so unprotected. So I got out my Smith & Wesson, and carefully loaded it. I can shoot pretty straight, and Allan was quite aware of that fact, I am glad to say; so I felt happier. He was so very late for his appointment, that I had begun to hope he was not coming at all, when the door-bell rang. As soon as I had let him in I saw that he had been drinking. Strangely enough, that rea.s.sured me somewhat; I felt that I and my pistol stood a better chance of being able to manage him in that condition than when that fiendish brain of his was in proper working order. He no longer indulged in gibes and sarcasms, but this time did not hesitate to demand hush money.

"'What is your price?' I asked.

"'A thousand dollars.'

"Of course, I had no such sum, nor any way of obtaining it. I told him so.

"'What rot! Why, those rings you've got on are worth more than that.'

"'Those rings were given to me by my husband, and if I part with them he will insist on knowing what has become of them.'

"'I don't care about that,' he said, settling himself deeper into his chair; 'either you give me that money or I stay here till your lover returns.'

"I knew him to be capable of it.

"'Look here,' said I, 'I can't get you a thousand dollars, so that's all there is about it; but if you'll take some jewelry that Pa gave me, and which I know is worth about that, I'll give it you on condition that you sign a paper, saying that you have blackmailed me, and that your allegations are quite without foundation.'

"'I won't take your jewelry on any consideration,' he answered. 'What should I do with it? if I sold it I could only get a trifle of what it is worth, besides running the risk of being supposed to have stolen it.

No, no, my lady; it must be cash down or no deal.'

"After a great deal of further altercation, he agreed to wait twenty-four hours for his money. I was to employ this respite in trying to sell my jewelry, but if by the following evening I had failed to raise a thousand dollars he swore he would sell my story to the newspapers. He told me that he had an appointment in Boston the next morning, and that he had not enough money to pay his expenses. So he made me give him all the cash there was in the house. Luckily, I had very little. Before leaving, he lurched into the dining-room and poured himself out a stiff drink of whiskey.

"'Now, mind that you have that money by to-morrow evening, do you hear?

And don't think I shan't be back in time to keep my appointment with you, for I shall. Never miss a date with a pretty woman, even if she does happen to be your wife, is my motto,' and with that final shot he departed. As the elevator had stopped running, I told him he would have to walk down-stairs. I stood for a moment watching him reel from side to side, and I wondered at the time if he would ever get down without breaking his neck. Not that I cared much, I confess; and that was the last I saw of him alive. The next day was spent in trying to raise that thousand dollars. The p.a.w.n brokers offered me an absurdly small sum for my jewelry, and wanted all sorts of proof that it was really my property. I tried to borrow from an acquaintance (I have no friends in New York), but she refused, and intimated that your wife could not possibly be in need of money except for an illegitimate purpose. She was quite right, and I liked her no less for her distrust of me. At last I made up my mind that it was impossible to raise the sum he demanded, and returned home determined to brazen it out. Still, no news from Father.

What could be the reason of his silence, I wondered; any answer would be better than no answer.

"I braced myself to meet Allan, hopeless but resigned. However, hour after hour went by and still no sign of him. When eleven o'clock struck without his having put in an appearance, I knew that a respite had been mercifully granted me. I was expecting you home very shortly, so thought I'd sit up for you. However, the fatigue and excitement of the last few days proved too much for me, and I fell asleep on the sofa. I had been longing for you all day, and fully intended to tell you the dreadful news as soon as I saw you. But somehow or other, when at last you did arrive you seemed so distant and cold that I weakly put off my confession till a more favourable moment."

Atkins hung his head.

"The next morning, when there was still no news of my persecutor, I began to breathe more freely. I was told that there had been an accident in the building, but that Allan Brown was the victim never occurred to me. Imagine my horror and consternation when, on being shown the corpse, I recognised my first husband. A thousand wild conjectures as to the cause of his death flashed through my mind, and when I heard that he had been murdered I feared for one awful moment that you might have met him and killed him either in anger or self-defence. When I learned that the crime had been committed on Tuesday I was inexpressibly relieved. For on that day you had not even been in New York. My next anxiety was lest the fact that the dead man had come to the building to see me should become known. When asked if I recognised the corpse I lied instinctively, unthinkingly. It was a crazy thing for me to have done, for I should have been instantly detected if it had not been for the surprising coincidence that Greywood (that's his name, isn't it), who had also been in the building that evening, so closely resembled my visitor. But I knew nothing of this, and had no intention of casting suspicion on any one else when I so stoutly denied all knowledge of the man. The Coroner's cross-questioning terrified me, for I was sure he suspected me of knowing more than I cared to say. But when that ordeal was over, and I was again within my own four walls, I could feel nothing but extreme thankfulness that the evil genius of my life was removed from my path at last. My only remaining fear was lest I should be suspected of his death. I imagined that I was being shadowed, and fancied that a man was stationed in the flat above the Doctor's, who watched this house night and day. Was that so, Mr. Merritt?"

"Yes'm."

"As the days went by I only became more nervous. The mystery of the thing preyed on my mind. The thought that I must be living under the same roof with a murderer gave me the creeps. Therefore, you can understand what a relief the butler's arrest was to me. But my joy did not last long. I met you, Doctor, and you let out that Mr. Merritt did not believe the Frenchman guilty, but was sure that a young woman had killed Allan. These words revived all my fears for my own safety. I was convinced that my former relation to the murdered man had been discovered, and that I should be accused of his death. I could not bring such disgrace on you, Larrie, so determined to fly if possible before I was arrested. As you know, I left the house in the middle of the night, and I hid under a stoop in a neighbouring side-street till morning.

All day long I wandered aimlessly about. I didn't dare to leave the city, for I was sure the trains would be watched. I daresn't go to a hotel without luggage. Towards evening I got desperate. Seeing a respectable-looking woman toiling along, with a baby on one arm and a parcel in the other, I stopped her. I begged her to tell me of some quiet place where I could spend the night. Having a.s.sured her that I was not unprovided with money, she gladly consented to take me to her own home. All she had to offer was a sofa, but, my! how glad I was to lie down at all. But the heat, the smell, the shouting and cursing of drunken brutes, prevented me from sleeping, and this morning I felt so ill I thought I should die. The desire to look once more at the house where I had been so happy grew stronger and stronger. At last I couldn't resist it. So I came, although I knew all the time I should be caught."

"And were you sorry to be caught?" asked her husband.

"No--o--," she answered, as she looked at the detective, apprehensively.

"If I'm not to be imprisoned."

"Pray rea.s.sure yourself on that score, madam. The worst that will happen to you is that you will have to repeat part of your story at the inquest. No one can suspect you of having killed the man. The body must have been hidden somewhere for twenty-four hours, and in your apartment there is no place you could have done this, except possibly in the small coat closet under the stairs. But your waitress swears that she cleaned that very closet on the morning after the murder. Neither were you able as far as I can see to procure a key to the vacant apartment. No, madam, you will have absolutely no difficulty in clearing yourself."

"But the disgrace--the publicity----"

"There is no disgrace and hang the publicity," exclaimed Atkins.

"You forgive me?"

Atkins kissed her hand.

"But, darling, that divorce?" he asked, under his breath.

"Oh, I heard from Pa about a week ago. He had been travelling about and hadn't had his mail forwarded. That was the reason why I had had no answer to my numerous telegrams and letters. He says, however, that my divorce is O. K., so you can't get rid of me after all."

CHAPTER XVIII

THE TRUTH OF THE WHOLE MATTER

The Atkinses had departed, and Merritt and I were again alone.

"Well," I exclaimed, "the Rosemere mystery doesn't seem any nearer to being solved, does it?"

"You ought to be satisfied with knowing that your friend, Mrs. Atkins, is exonerated."

"Of that I am heartily glad; but who can the criminal be?"

The detective shrugged his shoulders.

"You don't know?" I asked.

"Haven't an idea," he answered.

"But what about that pretty criminal you've been talking so much about?"

"Well, Doctor, to tell you the truth this case has proved one too many for me. You see," he went on, settling himself more comfortably in his chair, "there isn't enough evidence against any one to warrant our holding them an hour. Mrs. Atkins knew the man and had a motive for killing him, but had no place in which to secrete the body, nor did she make any effort to obtain that key. Against Argot the case is stronger.

One of the greatest objections to the theory that it was he who murdered Brown is that, as far as we can find out, the man was a perfect stranger to him. But as he did not know his wife's lover by sight, it seems to me not impossible that he may have mistaken Brown for the latter, and thought that in killing him he was avenging his honour. The Frenchman is also one of the few persons who could have abstracted the key of the vacant apartment. On the other hand, it would have been impossible for him to have either secreted or disposed of the body without his wife's knowledge. And unless Madame Argot is an actress and a liar of very unusual talent, I am willing to swear that she knew and knows nothing of the crime!"

"I am sure of it," I a.s.sented.

"Furthermore, I can think of no way by which Argot could have run across Brown. He would naturally follow the man whom he believed to be his wife's lover, and not only did Madame Argot tell you that her husband ran out the back way in pursuit of her cousin, but that seems to me the thing which he would most likely do. And yet, having left by that door, he could not possibly have got into the house again unperceived.