“AND so that was his end!” Eleanor drew a long, breath. “Poor Uncle Dana! Douglas, do you really think he was guilty?”
“I’m afraid so,” sorrowfully. “The very fact that he was trying to escape proves it; otherwise he would have stayed here and faced an .”
“It’s dreadful, dreadful!” moaned Eleanor. “And almost unbelievable. A ! A murderer! But”—checking herself—“that last hasn’t been proved.”
“That’s Brett’s voice,” exclaimed Douglas, springing from his chair and crossing to the hall door. “Come in, Brett; Miss Thornton and I are sitting in the library.”
The detective gave his hat and light overcoat to Nicodemus and followed Douglas back into the room, first closing the door carefully behind him.
“Has Captain Lane been here yet?” he inquired.
“Yes, he came over at once on being released. Mrs. Truxton took him upstairs to see Cynthia, who is rapidly improving, now that the mystery of Senator Carew’s death is solved and Fred cleared of any complicity in it,” explained Eleanor.
“Then would you mind asking Captain Lane to come down, Miss Thornton? I have several pieces of news which I must tell you, and I think his presence is necessary.” Eleanor looked at him questioningly, and he added hastily, “He won’t be involved in any further trouble.”
“What tragedies have happened since I reached this house twenty-four hours ago,” exclaimed Douglas, pacing the room restlessly. “Annette’s death last night, and now the Colonel——” He did not finish his sentence, but instead stopped before the full-length portrait of a dead and gone Thornton, and gazed at the painted face. From that hero to Dana Thornton, traitor, was indeed a great descent. “A good man gone wrong,” he commented, finally.
“An scoundrel,” Brett. He stopped speaking as Eleanor reëntered the room, followed by Fred Lane. The young officer showed the he had gone through that morning and afternoon by the deep lines under his eyes and around his mouth. He bowed to Douglas and Brett.
“You wish to see me?” he asked.
“Sit down, please.” Brett pushed forward a chair for Eleanor, and the others grouped themselves about the center table. By common consent they all avoided Colonel Thornton’s favorite armchair. “I am anxious to have a talk with you because there are several loose threads to this mystery which must be straightened out.”
“What are they?” questioned Lane impatiently; he longed to be back with Cynthia.
“On my return from the River Road to headquarters I found an answer from the Paris police to my cable. They tell me, Miss Thornton, that your maid, Annette, was an international spy.”
“Great heavens!” ejaculated Eleanor, in round-eyed .
“She was also in the habit of impersonating you.” Eleanor’s face was a study. “She had clothes made exactly like yours, even her kimono was a duplicate. From what I hear, Mr. Hunter, I judge Annette, who you was in the hall when we were discussing the mysterious letter written by Senator Carew, to try and find it, and that’s why she paid you a visit in the library last Tuesday night. She did not know that I had asked you to sleep there.”
“I was grossly deceived in her,” declared Eleanor bitterly. “I presume her splendid recommendations were all——”
“Forgeries,” supplemented Brett. “Quite right, they must have been. I have just talked with one of the nurses from Hospital who attended Philip Winthrop, and he declares that he caught Annette trying to give Philip a sleeping powder. Probably she wished to reap all the reward that she could, through and otherwise, and was afraid if Philip saw me that he would spoil her ‘scoop.’ With her usual habit of involving you, Miss Thornton, she made that crazy fool believe you were drugging him.”
“Will you please explain to me,” broke in Fred Lane, “why Mrs. Winthrop swore out a warrant for my arrest? What led her to believe me guilty?”
“Mrs. Winthrop wished me to tell you, Captain Lane, that she bitterly regrets her hasty action. I never saw anyone so completely broken up. It seems she wanted that graceless stepson of hers to marry her niece, Miss Carew, so that he would eventually inherit the Carew fortune. Then she has a natural for you because you are your father’s son, and she was, unfortunately, only too ready to believe you guilty. Annette told her a number of lies,”—Brett his shoulders expressively,—“and there you have it—along with other circumstantial evidence, which would have pretty nearly convicted you.”
Lane flushed angrily. “So Mrs. Winthrop took the word of a worthless servant, the better to me....”
“Had Annette any grounds for her ?” questioned Brett swiftly. “Mrs. Owen said her library desk file mysteriously disappeared the night of her dance.”
“A coincidence which I cannot account for,” declared Lane, looking the detective squarely in the eye. “It may be that Annette saw the end of my silver handled umbrella which I was carrying, and in the uncertain light mistook it for a weapon of some sort.”
“Considering Annette’s natural to lie,” broke in Douglas, “I think it highly probable that she made up the story, and told it to Miss Carew.”
“And probably promised to keep silent if Miss Carew paid her,” suggested Brett scornfully. “It’s too bad Miss Carew permitted the maid to blackmail her.”
“What about the threatening letters to Senator Carew which Mrs. Winthrop thought I sent?” inquired Lane.
“Philip Winthrop wrote them.”
“The scoundrel!” ejaculated Lane.
“He was that and more—the Secretary of State and I took him back home in the former’s motor, and when we had done him we had cleared up many details in regard to this international . Through Senator Carew’s letter and Winthrop’s disclosures the intrigue has been nipped in the bud before more serious results can happen.”
“Thank God for that!” exclaimed Douglas .
“It seems that Philip Winthrop has been a go-between for a wealthy Colombian, whose name he , and some person whom the called ‘our friend.’ Strange to say, Philip declares he never knew until Carew’s letter was read that the mysterious individual was Colonel Dana Thornton. He says he gave all communications for the ‘mutual friend’ to Annette, and Annette, if you please, made him believe that the spy was—Miss Thornton.”
“Well, upon my word!” cried Eleanor, her eyes blazing with indignation. “I was a nice cat’s-paw for her. Do you know, I believe she, and not my uncle, killed Senator Carew.”
“I’m sorry,”—Brett hesitated, then went slowly on. “I’m sorry to say there’s no doubt but that Colonel Thornton did murder the Senator. I don’t want to any more pain than necessary, Miss Thornton, but you will hear the details from others if not from me. I have seen Soto, your Japanese cook, and he swore that Colonel Thornton called at your house on Monday night, just after the Senator’s arrival, and Fugi admitted him. On being informed that Senator Carew was with you, your uncle told the butler not to announce him, but that he would wait in the writing room until the Senator left. Soto showed me an umbrella which Fugi had carried to the kitchen to dry for the Colonel. It has your uncle’s initials on the handle, and Nicodemus identified it as belonging to the Colonel when I showed it to him on my arrival here just now.
“On being pressed, Soto also admitted that late Monday night he left your house to post a letter. As he came up the area steps to the terraced walk, which was covered by the , leading from the house to the sidewalk, he almost collided with Senator Carew, who seemed buried in thought and did not notice his approach. Soto drew back respectfully toward the area steps to let him pass. As the Senator entered his carriage another man sped down your high front steps, and, on reaching the carriage, pulled open the door and entered the vehicle, which then moved on. Soto swears solemnly that this last man was Colonel Thornton.”
Eleanor drew a long, breath, and glanced helplessly at the others. Her uncle was not only a traitor but a murderer. Her worst fears were realized. None cared to break the pause, and, after waiting a moment, Brett took up his where he had left off.
“It must be, Miss Thornton, that your uncle overheard all or part of your conversation with the Senator. He probably waited in the writing room until the Senator left the house, picked up the letter file, as he had no other weapon handy, and stole after him. Hamilton was too drunk to notice anything. The horses probably moved up the street of their own accord when the preceding carriages made room for them to advance. It was unpremeditated murder, and yet chance Colonel Thornton’s tracks most successfully.”
“You are right,” agreed Douglas. “If Annette had found Carew’s letter to the Secretary of State instead of Mrs. Truxton, Thornton would have escaped detection.”
“Annette was always complaining of Mrs. Truxton’s early rising,” Eleanor laughed , then cried a little.
“My darling, let me get you some wine!” exclaimed Douglas in .
“No, no, sit down!” Eleanor clutched his coat. “Don’t pay any attention to me; I’ll be all right in a minute.”
“Fugi has disappeared,” went on Brett, after a brief silence. “I think he overheard our conversation here this afternoon, for Nicodemus says he was loitering in the hall. On searching his room at your house, Miss Thornton, I found evidence, through certain papers, that he had been in your uncle’s pay.”
“He thought it wiser to bolt,” commented Fred Lane. “I have no doubt he knew more of affairs than we are giving him credit for.”
“It’s a great pity, Miss Thornton, that you kept silent so long,” said Brett. “If I had known that Senator Carew spent the evening with you, and also about the awning, I would have cleared up this mystery sooner.”
“I should have spoken.” Eleanor looked so troubled that Douglas sat down on the arm of her chair and took her hand gently in his. As his strong grasp she formed a sudden resolution. “There is another reason for my silence which I have not told you; wait a moment,” and she rose and hurriedly left the room.
The men smoked in silence until her return. “The room is very dark, won’t you light another burner, Douglas?” she asked, on her return. She waited until her wish had been complied with, then, as the men seated themselves near her, she began her story. “On Tuesday morning, just after I had heard of Senator Carew’s death, I received a cardboard box containing jewels. That in itself bewildered me, but I was by the message written in an unknown hand which I found on a card inside the box.” As she she opened the small box which she had just brought into the room with her. “Here is the card; read the message aloud, Douglas.”
“‘The appointment was not kept. Well done.’”
Douglas laid the card on the desk and the three men looked at each other in .
“The message frightened me horribly,” continued Eleanor. “I realized that some one must have thought me guilty of the Senator’s death—and approved of it. The mystery of it me. I did not know whom to take into my conf............