Raspberry Jam Part 33

"Couldn't be reached even by firemen's ladders," he said, "and, anyway, the police would have spotted any ladder work."

"I tried to think some one came in at that window," said Elliott, "but even so, n.o.body could go through Miss Ames' room, and then Mrs.

Embury's room, and so on to Mr. Embury's room--do his deadly work--and return again, without waking the ladies--"

"Not only that, but how could he get in the window?" said Eunice.

"There's no possible way of climbing across from the next apartment--oh, I'm honest with myself," she added, as Stone looked at her curiously. "I don't deceive myself by thinking impossibilities could happen. But somebody killed my husband, and--according to the detectives--I am the only one who had both motive and opportunity!"

"Had you a motive, Mrs. Embury?" Stone asked, quietly.

Eunice stared at him. "They say so," she replied. "They say I was unhappy with him."

"And were you?" The very directness of Stone's pertinent questions seemed to compel Eunice's truthful answers, and she said:

"Of course I was! But that--"

"Eunice, hus.h.!.+" broke in Elliott, with a pained look. "Don't say such things, dear, it can do no good, and may injure your case."

"Not with me," Stone declared. "My work has led me rather intimately into people's lives, and I am willing to go on record as saying that fifty per cent of marriages are unhappy--more or less. Whether that is a motive for murder depends entirely on the temper and temperament of the married ones themselves. But--it is very rarely that a wife kills her husband."

"Why, there are lots of cases in the papers," said Miss Ames. "And never are the women convicted, either!"

"Oh, not lots of cases," objected Stone, "but the few that do occur are usually tragic and dramatic and fill a front page for a few days. Now, let's sift down this remarkably definite statement of 'motives and opportunities' that your eminent detectives have catalogued. I'm told that they've two people with motive and no opportunity; two more with opportunity and no motive; and one--Mrs. Embury--who fulfills both requirements! Quite an elaborate schedule, to be sure!"

Eunice looked at him with a glimmer of hope. Surely a man who talked like that didn't place implicit reliance on the schedule in question.

"And yet," Stone went on, "it is certainly true. A motive is a queer thing--an elusive, uncertain thing. They say--I have this from the detectives themselves-that Mr. Hendricks and Mr. Elliott both had the motive of deep affection for Mrs. Embury. Please don't be offended, I am speaking quite impersonally, now. Mr. Hendricks, I am advised, also had a strong motive in a desire to remove a rival candidate for an important election. But--neither of these gentlemen had opportunity, as each has proven a perfect and indubitable alibi. I admit the alibis--I've looked into them, and they are unimpeachable--but I don't admit the motives. Granting a man's affection for a married woman, it is not at all a likely thing for him to kill her husband."

"Right, Mr. Stone!" and Mason Elliott's voice rang out in honest appreciation.

"Again, it is absurd to suspect one election candidate of killing another. It isn't done--and one very good reason is, that if the criminal should be discovered, he has small chance for the election he coveted. And there is always a chance--and a strong one--that 'murder will out! So, personally, I admit I don't subscribe entirely to the cut-and-dried program of my esteemed colleagues. Now, as to these two people with opportunity but no motive. They are, I'm told, Miss Ames and the butler. Very well, I grant their opportunity--but since they are alleged to have no motive, why consider them at all? This brings us to Mrs. Embury."

Eunice was watching the speaker, fascinated. She had never met a man like this before. Though Stone's manner was by no means flippant, he seemed to take a light view of some aspects of the case. But now, he looked at Eunice very earnestly.

"I am informed," he went on, slowly, "that you have an ungovernable temper, Mrs. Embury."

"Nothing of the sort!" Eunice cried, tossing her head defiantly and turning angry eyes on the bland detective. "I am supposed to be unable to control myself, but it is not true! As a child I gave way to fits of temper, I acknowledge, but I have overcome that tendency, and I am no more hot-tempered now than other people!"

As always, when roused, Eunice looked strikingly beautiful, her eyes shone and her cheeks showed a crimson flush. She drew herself up haughtily, and clenching her hands on the back of a chair, as she stood facing Stone, she said, "If you have come here to browbeat me--to discuss my personal characteristics, you may go! I've no intention of being brought to book by a detective!"

"Why, Eunice, don't talk that way," begged Aunt Abby. "I'm sure Mr.

Stone is trying to get you freed from the awful thing that is hanging over you!"

"There's no awful thing hanging over me! I don't know what you mean, Aunt Abby! There can't be anything worse than to have a stranger come in here and remark on my unfortunate weakness in sometimes giving way to my sense of righteous indignation! I resent it! I won't have it!

Mason, you brought Mr. Stone here--now take him away!"

"There, there, Eunice, you are not quite yourself, and I don't wonder.

This scene is too much for you. I'm sure you will make allowance, Mr.

Stone, for Mrs. Embury's overwrought nerves--"

"Of course," and Fleming Stone spoke coldly, without sympathy or even apparent interest. "Let Mrs. Embury retire to her room, if she wishes."

They had all returned to the big living-room, and Stone stood near a front window, now and then glancing out to the trees in Park Avenue below.

"I don't want to retire to my room!" Eunice cried. "I don't want to be set aside as if I were a child! I did want Mr. Stone to investigate this whole matter, but I don't now--I've changed my mind! Mason, tell him to go away!"

"No, dear," and Elliott looked at her kindly, "you can't change your mind like that. Mr. Stone has the case, and he will go on with it and when you come to yourself again, you will be glad, for he will free you from suspicion by finding the real criminal."

"I don't want him to! I don't want the criminal found! I want it to be an unsolved mystery, always and forever!"

"No;" Elliott spoke more firmly. "No, Eunice, that is not what you want."

"Stop! I know what I want--without your telling me! You overstep your privileges, Mason! I'm not an imbecile, to be ignored, set aside, overruled! I won't stand it! Mr. Stone, you are discharged!"

She stood, pointing to the door with a gesture that would have been melodramatic, had she not been so desperately in earnest. The soft black sleeve fell away from her soft white arm, and her out-stretched hand was steady and unwavering as she stood silent, but quivering with suppressed rage.

"Eunice," and going to her, Elliott took the cold white hand in his own. "Eunice," he said, and no more, but his eyes looked deeply into hers.

She gazed steadily for a moment, and then her face softened, and she turned aside, and sank wearily into a chair.

"Do as you like," she said, in a low murmur. "I'll leave it to you, Mason. Let Mr. Stone go ahead."

"Yes, go ahead, Mr. Stone," said Aunt Abby, eagerly. "I'll show you anywhere you want to go--anything you want to see I'll tell you all about it."

"Why, do you know anything I haven't been told, Miss Ames? I thought we had pretty well sized up the situation."

"Yes, but I can tell you something that n.o.body else will listen to, and I think you will."

Eunice started up again. "Aunt Abby," she said, "if you begin that pack of fool nonsense about a vision, I'll leave the room--I vow I will!"

"Leave, then!" retorted Aunt Abby, whose patience was also under a strain.

But Stone said, "Wait, please, I want a few more matters mentioned, and then, Miss Ames, I will listen to your 'fool nonsense!' First, what is this talk about money troubles between Mr. and Mrs. Embury?"

"That," Eunice seemed interested, "is utter folly. My husband objected to giving me a definite allowance, but he gave me twice the sum I would have asked for, and more, too, by letting me have charge accounts everywhere I chose."

"Then you didn't kill him for that reason?" and the dark eyes of the detective rested on Eunice kindly.

"No; I did not!" she said, curtly, and Stone returned,

"I believe you, Mrs. Embury; if you were the criminal, that was not the motive. Next," he went on, "what about this quarrel you and Mr. Embury had the night before his death?"

"That was because I had disobeyed his express orders," Eunice said, frankly and bravely, "and I went to a bridge game at a house to which he had forbidden me to go. I am sorry--and I wish I could tell him so."

Fleming Stone looked at her closely. Was she sincere or was she merely a clever actress?

"A game for high stakes, I a.s.sume," he said quietly.

"Very high. Mr. Embury objected strongly to my playing there, but I went, hoping to win some money that I wanted."