That Affair Next Door Read online

  III.

  AMELIA DISCOVERS HERSELF.

  There is a small room at the extremity of the Van Burnam mansion. Inthis I took refuge after my interview with Mr. Gryce. As I picked outthe chair which best suited me and settled myself for a comfortablecommunion with my own thoughts, I was astonished to find how much I wasenjoying myself, notwithstanding the thousand and one duties awaiting meon the other side of the party-wall.

  Even this very solitude was welcome, for it gave me an opportunity toconsider matters. I had not known up to this very hour that I had anyspecial gifts. My father, who was a shrewd man of the old New Englandtype, said more times than I am years old (which was not saying it asoften as some may think) that Araminta (the name I was christened by,and the name you will find in the Bible record, though I sign myselfAmelia, and insist upon being addressed as Amelia, being, as I hope, asensible woman and not the piece of antiquated sentimentality suggestedby the former cognomen)--that Araminta would live to make her mark;though in what capacity he never informed me, being, as I have observed,a shrewd man, and thus not likely to thoughtlessly commit himself.

  I now know he was right; my pretensions dating from the moment I foundthat this affair, at first glance so simple, and at the next socomplicated, had aroused in me a fever of investigation which noreasoning could allay. Though I had other and more personal matters onmy mind, my thoughts would rest nowhere but on the details of thistragedy; and having, as I thought, noticed some few facts in connectionwith it, from which conclusions might be drawn, I amused myself withjotting them down on the back of a disputed grocer's bill I happened tofind in my pocket.

  Valueless as explaining this tragedy, being founded upon insufficientevidence, they may be interesting as showing the workings of my mindeven at this early stage of the matter. They were drawn up under threeheads.

  First, was the death of this young woman an accident?

  Second, was it a suicide?

  Third, was it a murder?

  Under the first head I wrote:

  _My reasons for not thinking it an accident._

  1. If it had been an accident and she had pulled the cabinet over uponherself, she would have been found with her feet pointing towards thewall where the cabinet had stood.

  (But her feet were towards the door and her head under the cabinet.)

  2. The decent, even precise, arrangement of the clothing about her feet,which precludes any theory involving accident.

  Under the second:

  _Reason for not thinking it suicide._

  She could not have been found in the position observed without havinglain down on the floor while living and then pulled the shelves downupon herself.

  (A theory obviously too improbable to be considered.)

  Under the third:

  _Reason for not thinking it murder._

  She would need to have been held down on the floor while the cabinet wasbeing pulled over on her; something which the quiet aspect of the handsand feet made appear impossible.

  To this I added:

  _Reasons for accepting the theory of murder._

  1. The fact that she did not go into the house alone; that a man enteredwith her, remained ten minutes, and then came out again and disappearedup the street with every appearance of haste and an anxious desire toleave the spot.

  2. The front door, which he had unlocked on entering, was not locked byhim on his departure, the catch doing the locking. Yet, though he couldhave re-entered so easily, he had shown no disposition to return.

  3. The arrangement of the skirts, which show the touch of a careful handafter death.

  Nothing clear, you see. I was doubtful of all; and yet my suspicionstended most toward murder.

  I had eaten my luncheon before interfering in this matter, which wasfortunate for me, as it was three o'clock before I was summoned to meetthe Coroner, of whose arrival I had been conscious some time before.

  He was in the front parlor where the dead girl lay, and as I took my waythither I felt the same sensations of faintness which had so nearlyovercome me on the previous occasion. But I mastered them, and wasquite myself before I crossed the threshold.

  There were several gentlemen present, but of them all I only noticedtwo, one of whom I took to be the Coroner, while the other was my lateinterlocutor, Mr. Gryce. From the animation observable in the latter, Igathered that the case was growing in interest from the detectivestandpoint.

  "Ah, and is this the witness?" asked the Coroner, as I stepped into theroom.

  "I am Miss Butterworth," was my calm reply. "_Amelia_ Butterworth.Living next door and present at the discovery of this poor murderedbody."

  "Murdered," he repeated. "Why do you say murdered?"

  For reply I drew from my pocket the bill on which I had scribbled myconclusions in regard to this matter.

  "Read this," said I.

  Evidently astonished, he took the paper from my hand, and, after somecurious glances in my direction, condescended to do as I requested. Theresult was an odd but grudging look of admiration directed towardsmyself and a quick passing over of the paper to the detective.

  The latter, who had exchanged his bit of broken china for a very muchused and tooth-marked lead-pencil, frowned with a whimsical air at thelatter before he put it in his pocket. Then he read my hurried scrawl.

  "Two Richmonds in the field!" commented the Coroner, with a sly chuckle."I am afraid I shall have to yield to their allied forces. MissButterworth, the cabinet is about to be raised; do you feel as if youcould endure the sight?"

  "I can stand anything where the cause of justice is involved," Ireplied.

  "Very well, then, sit down, if you please. When the whole body isvisible I will call you."

  And stepping forward he gave orders to have the clock and broken chinaremoved from about the body.

  As the former was laid away on one end of the mantel some one observed:

  "What a valuable witness that clock might have been had it been runningwhen the shelves fell!"

  But the fact was so patent that it had not been in motion for monthsthat no one even answered; and Mr. Gryce did not so much as look towardsit. But then we had all seen that the hands stood at three minutes tofive.

  I had been asked to sit down, but I found this impossible. Side by sidewith the detective, I viewed the replacing of that heavy piece offurniture against the wall, and the slow disclosure of the upper part ofthe body which had so long lain hidden.

  That I did not give way is a proof that my father's prophecy was notwithout some reasonable foundation; for the sight was one to try thestoutest nerves, as well as to awaken the compassion of the hardestheart.

  The Coroner, meeting my eye, pointed at the poor creature inquiringly.

  "Is this the woman you saw enter here last night?"

  I glanced down at her dress, noted the short summer cape tied to theneck with an elaborate bow of ribbon, and nodded my head.

  "I remember the cape," said I. "But where is her hat? She wore one. Letme see if I can describe it." Closing my eyes I endeavored to recallthe dim silhouette of her figure as she stood passing up the change tothe driver; and was so far successful that I was ready to announce atthe next moment that her hat presented the effect of a soft felt withone feather or one bow of ribbon standing upright from the side of thecrown.

  "Then the identity of this woman with the one you saw enter here lastnight is established," remarked the detective, stooping down and drawingfrom under the poor girl's body a hat, sufficiently like the one I hadjust described, to satisfy everybody that it was the same.

  "As if there could be any doubt," I began.

  But the Coroner, explaining that it was a mere formality, motioned me tostand aside in favor of the doctor, who seemed anxious to approachnearer the spot where the dead woman lay. This I was about to do when asudden thought struck me, and I reached out my hand for the hat.

  "Let me look at it for a moment," said I.

  Mr. Gryce at once handed it over, and I
took a good look at it insideand out.

  "It is pretty badly crushed," I observed, "and does not present a veryfresh appearance, but for all that it has been worn but once."

  "How do you know?" questioned the Coroner.

  "Let the other Richmond inform you," was my grimly uttered reply, as Igave it again into the detective's hand.

  There was a murmur about me, whether of amusement or displeasure, I madeno effort to decide. I was finding out something for myself, and I didnot care what they thought of me.

  "Neither has she worn this dress long," I continued; "but that is nottrue of the shoes. They are not old, but they have been acquainted withthe pavement, and that is more than can be said of the hem of this gown.There are no gloves on her hands; a few minutes elapsed then before theassault; long enough for her to take them off."

  "Smart woman!" whispered a voice in my ear; a half-admiring,half-sarcastic voice that I had no difficulty in ascribing to Mr. Gryce."But are you sure she wore any? Did you notice that her hand was glovedwhen she came into the house?"

  "No," I answered, frankly; "but so well-dressed a woman would not entera house like this, without gloves."

  "It was a warm night," some one suggested.

  "I don't care. You will find her gloves as you have her hat; and youwill find them with the fingers turned inside out, just as she drew themfrom her hand. So much I will concede to the warmth of the weather."

  "Like these, for instance," broke in a quiet voice.

  Startled, for a hand had appeared over my shoulder dangling a pair ofgloves before my eyes, I cried out, somewhat too triumphantly I own:

  "Yes, yes, just like those! Did you pick them up here? Are they hers?"

  "You say that this is the way hers should look."

  "And I repeat it."

  "Then allow me to pay you my compliments. These were picked up here."

  "But where?" I cried. "I thought I had looked this carpet well over."

  He smiled, not at me but at the gloves, and the thought crossed me thathe felt as if something more than the gloves was being turned insideout. I therefore pursed my mouth, and determined to stand more on myguard.

  "It is of no consequence," I assured him; "all such matters will comeout at the inquest."

  Mr. Gryce nodded, and put the gloves back in his pocket. With them heseemed to pocket some of his geniality and patience.

  "All these facts have been gone over before you came in," said he, whichstatement I beg to consider as open to doubt.

  The doctor, who had hardly moved a muscle during all this colloquy, nowrose from his kneeling position beside the girl's head.

  "I shall have to ask the presence of another physician," said he. "Willyou send for one from your office, Coroner Dahl?"

  At which I stepped back and the Coroner stepped forward, saying,however, as he passed me:

  "The inquest will be held day after to-morrow in my office. Holdyourself in readiness to be present. I regard you as one of my chiefwitnesses."

  I assured him I would be on hand, and, obeying a gesture of his finger,retreated from the room; but I did not yet leave the house. A straight,slim man, with a very small head but a very bright eye, was leaning onthe newel-post in the front hall, and when he saw me, started up soalertly I perceived that he had business with me, and so waited for himto speak.

  "You are Miss Butterworth?" he inquired.

  "I am, sir."

  "And I am a reporter from the New York _World_. Will you allow me----"

  Why did he stop? I had merely looked at him. But he did stop, and thatis saying considerable for a reporter from the New York _World_.

  "I certainly am willing to tell you what I have told every one else," Iinterposed, considering it better not to make an enemy of so judicious ayoung man; and seeing him brighten up at this, I thereupon related all Iconsidered desirable for the general public to know.

  I was about passing on, when, reflecting that one good turn deservesanother, I paused and asked him if he thought they would leave the deadgirl in that house all night.

  He answered that he did not think they would. That a telegram had beensent some time before to young Mr. Van Burnam, and that they were onlyawaiting his arrival to remove her.

  "Do you mean Howard?" I asked.

  "Is he the elder one?"

  "No."

  "It is the elder one they have summoned; the one who has been staying atLong Branch."

  "How can they expect him then so soon?"

  "Because he is in the city. It seems the old gentleman is going toreturn on the _New York_, and as she is due here to-day, Franklin VanBurnam has come to New York to meet him."

  "Humph!" thought I, "lively times are in prospect," and for the firsttime I remembered my dinner and the orders which had not been givenabout some curtains which were to have been hung that day, and all theother reasons I had for being at home.

  I must have shown my feelings, much as I pride myself upon myimpassibility upon all occasions, for he immediately held out his arm,with an offer to pilot me through the crowd to my own house; and I wasabout to accept it when the door-bell rang so sharply that weinvoluntarily stopped.

  "A fresh witness or a telegram for the Coroner," whispered the reporterin my ear.

  I tried to look indifferent, and doubtless made out pretty well, for headded, after a sly look in my face:

  "You do not care to stay any longer?"

  I made no reply, but I think he was impressed by my dignity. Could henot see that it would be the height of ill-manners for me to rush out inthe face of any one coming in?

  An officer opened the door, and when we saw who stood there, I am surethat the reporter, as well as myself, was grateful that we listened tothe dictates of politeness. It was young Mr. Van Burnam--Franklin; Imean the older and more respectable of the two sons.

  He was flushed and agitated, and looked as if he would like toannihilate the crowd pushing him about on his own stoop. He gave anangry glance backward as he stepped in, and then I saw that a carriagecovered with baggage stood on the other side of the street, and gatheredthat he had not returned to his father's house alone.

  "What has happened? What does all this mean?" were the words he hurledat us as the door closed behind him and he found himself face to facewith a half dozen strangers, among whom the reporter and myself stoodconspicuous.

  Mr. Gryce, coming suddenly from somewhere, was the one to answer him.

  "A painful occurrence, sir. A young girl has been found here, dead,crushed under one of your parlor cabinets."

  "A young girl!" he repeated. (Oh, how glad I was that I had been broughtup never to transgress the principles of politeness.) "Here! in thisshut-up house? What young girl? You mean old woman, do you not? thehouse-cleaner or some one----"

  "No, Mr. Van Burnam, we mean what we say, though possibly I should callher a young lady. She is dressed quite fashionably."

  "The ----" Really I cannot repeat in this public manner the word whichMr. Van Burnam used. I excused him at the time, but I will notperpetuate his forgetfulness in these pages.

  "She is still lying as we found her," Mr. Gryce now proceeded in hisquiet, almost fatherly way. "Will you not take a look at her? Perhapsyou can tell us who she is?"

  "I?" Mr. Van Burnam seemed quite shocked. "How should I know her! Somethief probably, killed while meddling with other people's property."

  "Perhaps," quoth Mr. Gryce, laconically; at which I felt so angry, astending to mislead my handsome young neighbor, that I irresistibly didwhat I had fully made up my mind not to do, that is, stepped into viewand took a part in this conversation.

  "How can you say that," I cried, "when her admittance here was due to ayoung man who let her in at midnight with a key, and then left her toeat out her heart in this great house all alone."

  I have made sensations in my life, but never quite so marked a one asthis. In an instant every eye was on me, with the exception of thedetective's. His was on the figure crowning the newel-post, andbitte
rly severe his gaze was too, though it immediately grew wary as theyoung man started towards me and impetuously demanded:

  "Who talks like that? Why, it's Miss Butterworth. Madam, I fear I didnot fully understand what you said."

  Whereupon I repeated my words, this time very quietly but clearly, whileMr. Gryce continued to frown at the bronze figure he had taken into hisconfidence. When I had finished, Mr. Van Burnam's countenance hadchanged, so had his manner. He held himself as erect as before, but notwith as much bravado. He showed haste and impatience also, but not thesame kind of haste and not quite the same kind of impatience. Thecorners of Mr. Gryce's mouth betrayed that he noted this change, but hedid not turn away from the newel-post.

  "This is a remarkable circumstance which you have just told me,"observed Mr. Van Burnam, with the first bow I had ever received fromhim. "I don't know what to think of it. But I still hold that it's somethief. Killed, did you say? Really dead? Well, I'd have given fivehundred dollars not to have had it happen in this house."

  He had been moving towards the parlor door, and he now entered it.Instantly Mr. Gryce was by his side.

  "Are they going to close the door?" I whispered to the reporter, who wastaking this all in equally with myself.

  "I'm afraid so," he muttered.

  And they did. Mr. Gryce had evidently had enough of my interference, andwas resolved to shut me out, but I heard one word and caught oneglimpse of Mr. Van Burnam's face before the heavy door fell to. The wordwas: "Oh, so bad as that! How can any one recognize her----" And theglimpse--well, the glimpse proved to me that he was much more profoundlyagitated than he wished to appear, and any extraordinary agitation onhis part was certainly in direct contradiction to the very sentence hewas at that moment uttering.