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Mystery of the Hidden Room

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<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> <h3>THE INTERVIEW</h3> When we entered the Tombs that afternoon I noticed that several of the wardens smiled at McKelvie, as if his presence were a familiar one in that place of horrors. The matron too was very accommodating, more so than she had been to me, when McKelvie suggested that she stand out in the corridor when Ruth arrived. I noticed, however, that though she did as he asked and moved out of earshot, she remained where she could keep an eye upon our movements. When I presented Graydon McKelvie to Ruth and explained his mission, she gave him such a sweet, pathetic smile and wished him success in so gentle a manner that he was won over to her cause on the spot. "Mrs. Darwin," he said, with feeling, in that wonderful voice of his, "my best is the least I can offer you." From that moment I had no misgivings as to the outcome of the affair. Let come what would, Graydon McKelvie would prove Ruth innocent, not because he believed, but because like myself he knew her to be innocent. "Mrs. Darwin," McKelvie was saying gently, "in order to get at the bottom of this matter it will be necessary to ask you certain pertinent questions. I trust you won't be offended by anything I may say and also that you will answer me truthfully in every case." "I will tell you anything you desire to know," she answered quietly. "The coroner's inquest brought out a number of facts which do not, in my estimation, agree with one another. You say the study was in darkness when you entered, yet the lamp was lighted after the shot was fired. You are sure you did not light it yourself, unconsciously, perhaps?" he inquired in a brisk manner. "I did not touch it," she answered with conviction. "I had just picked up the pistol and was standing beside the chair some distance from the table when the lamp apparently lighted itself." "If someone had pulled the cord of the lamp would you have been able to see that person?" he persisted. "Yes, for I turned toward the table the minute the light went on. There was no one there—except Phil—and myself," she said low. "Point to investigate," he muttered, making a note in a small black book. "Memo: How was the light turned on? "Now, Mrs. Darwin, please go back in your mind to the moment when you heard the shot. What part of the room did it appear to come from?" he continued. "I—I'm afraid I couldn't say." "Did it sound very close to you, or far away?" he prompted. "Quite close. It was deafening," she said. "Did it sound in front or behind you?" he continued, patiently. "Behind, I think." He nodded. "You say you trod on the pistol as you moved forward. You did not hear it fall near you, for instance?" "No, when I heard the shot I involuntarily closed my eyes. It's a habit with me when anything startles me. When I opened them again I took a step and trod on something hard. I heard no sound at all." "I see. You did not know the object was a pistol you said?" "I did not know it. I merely felt something hard under my foot and in a dazed way I picked it up, without actually being conscious of what it was." "One thing more. Supposing there had been someone behind you, could you have heard that person?" "No. The carpet is very thick and absolutely deadens any footfall. Besides I do not see how anyone could have been back of me for I heard no one breathing." "That doesn't follow. A person might have stood far enough away so that you would not notice the breathing, particularly if that person took pains that you shouldn't. And now we come to the breathing that you did hear. Where did it seem to come from?" "It was right beside me, very, very close." "Was it normal, hurried breathing, or was it labored?" "Oh, horrible! A—a gasping sort of breath!" "What advice did Mr. Cunningham give you at the inquest?" he asked, with a sudden change of subject. "I don't understand what you mean, Mr. McKelvie," she answered, surprised. "The coroner appointed him your counsel pro tem. and he left the room to consult with you. Did he not tell you what you should or should not say in answer to the coroner's questions?" he explained. "Oh, no. He merely sent word by a policeman that I was to come down and that he considered it best that I tell frankly all that had happened that night. I did not see him until I came into the study and he first spoke to me, advising me to answer," she replied. He made one or two more notes and then held out his hand. "Thank you, Mrs. Darwin. You have helped me materially. Good-by for the present." "Good-by, Mr. McKelvie. Good-by, Carlton. See how quickly you can solve this mystery, won't you please? It's horrible there!" and she pointed toward the corridor. "I will do my very best, Mrs. Darwin, but don't hope too soon, for the way is long and dark," returned McKelvie with deep sympathy. When she had disappeared from sight around the bend of the corridor, he spoke again. "She's a brave little woman," he said, greatly moved. "God grant I'm not too late!" I was silent, for Ruth's incarceration was the one subject I dared not permit myself to dwell on if I desired to retain my sanity, and in another moment McKelvie himself had changed the subject. "By the way, I clean forgot to ask her a rather important question," he said, and he called to the warden, who brought Ruth back as far as the door of the reception-room. Somehow I could not bear to part from Ruth again and as there was no necessity for me to show myself, I remained where I could hear him without being seen. "I'm sorry to disturb you again, Mrs. Darwin, but I forgot to ask you this question. Why did you deny knowing Cora Manning at the inquest?" I was surprised, but Ruth said calmly, "I don't know her, Mr. McKelvie." "But you know who she is," he returned, smiling. "Will it help you?" "Very much." "She's Lee Darwin's fiancée. I have never met her, but one day he confided in me and showed me her picture. She is a very beautiful and noble girl, so please don't drag her into this inquiry, for whatever Phil's motives in leaving his money to her, I am sure that she is innocent of any knowledge of his actions," she pleaded. "I won't bring her into it unless it's absolutely necessary," he replied. "Are you a mind-reader?" I inquired as we walked slowly across the courtyard to the men's building and so out into the street. "Not that I'm aware of," he replied seriously. "What makes you ask?" "I'd have sworn that Ruth had never even heard of Cora Manning," I said. "That's because you hear and see without observing," he explained. "I read what you heard: namely, that Coroner Graves, dissatisfied with Mrs. Darwin's first answer, asked her again if she knew Cora Manning. The inference was plain. She knew or knew of this girl and hesitated to say no or yes. By the time the coroner repeated his question she had made up her mind." "That's so. Now that you mention it, I recall that she seemed disturbed by the question. And so she is Lee's fiancée, yet he denied all knowledge of her," I mused aloud. "Strange that everyone should have been so intent on shrouding her identity in mystery. What was their reason, do you suppose?" I asked suddenly. McKelvie shrugged. "I do not know—yet. 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio,'" he said lightly. I opened my eyes wide at this apt quotation for I did not know him then as I do now and I pondered in silence upon the oddity of hearing a detective spout Shakespeare, until I remembered that Jenkins had said that McKelvie was not a detective in the ordinary sense of the word. "Very kind of Jenkins," said McKelvie aloud. "By the way I phoned him to meet us at the Darwin house. I may need him in the course of the afternoon." In view of his stipulation and fearing to lose him before he had begun work on the case, I murmured hastily, "That's quite all right," then I gasped and looked into his amused, slightly ironical eyes. "Why, man, it's marvelous," I said. "What is?" he asked coolly, although he knew exactly what I meant. "Your reading of my thought," I replied. "Why you might almost be Sherlock Holmes himself." "No. I lay no such flattering unction to my soul, if you will pardon the misquotation. Sherlock Holmes is in a class by himself. No one can touch him, but I have studied his methods and in this case it was not very difficult to guess what you were thinking when you eyed me so hard and murmured, 'Jenkins,' unconsciously, particularly when I know Jenkins so well." We had been walking up Center Street as we talked, in total disregard of the fact that my car was parked in front of the Tombs, but now McKelvie paused abruptly and I saw that we were standing in front of Police Headquarters. "I had intended going out to Riverside Drive at once, but I have changed my mind," McKelvie explained. "I want to look at the exhibits before I view the scene of the crime. The scent is decidedly cold. I must see what I can do to warm the trail." "Do you think the police will let you see them?" I asked dubiously. "We can do no more than ask. I have influence yonder," with a nod of the head toward the massive abode of the representatives of law and order. "Besides I would be a poor specimen indeed if I couldn't bamboozle Jones into giving me whatever I want." "You know Jones, then?" "We have crossed one another's paths occasionally. Why?" "He's persuaded Ruth is guilty. He unearthed most of the evidence against her," I warned, "and he will guard it jealously." "Not Jones. It's only natural that you should be prejudiced against him, of course. But really he's not a bad sort, and he's only doing his duty as he sees it." "You are not small-minded at any rate," I answered smiling. "Oh, well, I always believe in giving the devil his due," he returned with a mocking laugh as he ascended the steps. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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