THE morning papers contained a more detailed1 account of the murder than those of the evening before; but, to my great relief, in none of them was Eleanore’s name mentioned in the connection I most dreaded2.
The final paragraph in the Times ran thus: “The detectives are upon the track of the missing girl, Hannah.” And in the Herald3 I read the following notice:
“A Liberal Reward will be given by the relatives of Horatio Leavenworth, Esq., deceased, for any news of the whereabouts of one Hannah Chester, disappeared from the house ———— Fifth Avenue since the evening of March 4. Said girl was of Irish extraction; in age about twenty-five, and may be known by the following characteristics. Form tall and slender; hair dark brown with a tinge4 of red; complexion5 fresh; features delicate and well made; hands small, but with the fingers much pricked6 by the use of the needle; feet large, and of a coarser type than the hands. She had on when last seen a checked gingham dress, brown and white, and was supposed to have wrapped herself in a red and green blanket shawl, very old. Beside the above distinctive7 marks, she had upon her right hand wrist the scar of a large burn; also a pit or two of smallpox8 upon the left temple.”
This paragraph turned my thoughts in a new direction. Oddly enough, I had expended9 very little thought upon this girl; and yet how apparent it was that she was the one person upon whose testimony10, if given, the whole case in reality hinged, I could not agree with those who considered her as personally implicated11 in the murder. An accomplice12, conscious of what was before her, would have hid in her pockets whatever money she possessed13. But the roll of bills found in Hannah’s trunk proved her to have left too hurriedly for this precaution. On the other hand, if this girl had come unexpectedly upon the assassin at his work, how could she have been hustled14 from the house without creating a disturbance15 loud enough to have been heard by the ladies, one of whom had her door open? An innocent girl’s first impulse upon such an occasion would have been to scream; and yet no scream was heard; she simply disappeared. What were we to think then? That the person seen by her was one both known and trusted? I would not consider such a possibility; so laying down the paper, I endeavored to put away all further consideration of the affair till I had acquired more facts upon which to base the theory. But who can control his thoughts when over-excited upon any one theme? All the morning I found myself turning the case over in my mind, arriving ever at one of two conclusions. Hannah Chester must be found, or Eleanore Leavenworth must explain when and by what means the key of the library door came into her possession.
At two o’clock I started from my office to attend the inquest; but, being delayed on the way, missed arriving at the house until after the delivery of the verdict. This was a disappointment to me, especially as by these means I lost the opportunity of seeing Eleanore Leavenworth, she having retired16 to her room immediately upon the dismissal of the jury. But Mr. Harwell was visible, and from him I heard what the verdict had been.
“Death by means of a pistol shot from the hand of some person unknown.”
The result of the inquest was a great relief to me. I had feared worse. Nor could I help seeing that, for all his studied self-command, the pale-faced secretary shared in my satisfaction.
What was less of a relief to me was the fact, soon communicated, that Mr. Gryce and his subordinates had left the premises17 immediately upon the delivery of the verdict. Mr. Gryce was not the man to forsake18 an affair like this while anything of importance connected with it remained unexplained. Could it be he meditated19 any decisive action? Somewhat alarmed, I was about to hurry from the house for the purpose of learning what his intentions were, when a sudden movement in the front lower window of the house on the opposite side of the way arrested my attention, and, looking closer, I detected the face of Mr. Fobbs peering out from behind the curtain. The sight assured me I was not wrong in my estimate of Mr. Gryce; and, struck with pity for the desolate20 girl left to meet the exigencies21 of a fate to which this watch upon her movements was but the evident precursor22, I stepped back and sent her a note, in which, as Mr. Veeley’s representative, I proffered23 my services in case of any sudden emergency, saying I was always to be found in my rooms between the hours of six and eight. This done, I proceeded to the house in Thirty-seventh Street where I had left Miss Mary Leavenworth the day before.
Ushered24 into the long and narrow drawing-room which of late years has been so fashionable in our uptown houses, I found myself almost immediately in the presence of Miss Leavenworth.
“Oh,” she cried, with an eloquent25 gesture of welcome, “I had begun to think I was forsaken26!” and advancing impulsively
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading