|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 41
"Were there footprints, or fingerprints--"
"No, Mr. Kennedy, we're out of luck again. When he jumped out he
fell to his hands and knees in a garden bed. The foot marks were
ruined because his feet slid and simply made two irregular
gashes. The marks of his hands indicated to me, anyhow, that he
wore heavy gloves, rubber probably."
"Any disturbance in the library?"
"Not that I could notice. That's why I phoned you at once. I'm
hoping you'll discover something."
"Well--" Kennedy sighed. "It was a wonderful opportunity to get
to the bottom of this."
"I haven't told you all yet, Mr. Kennedy," Mackay went on. "There
was a second man, and--"
"A second man?" Kennedy straightened, distinctly surprised. "I
would swear this whole thing was a one-man job."
"They weren't together," the district attorney explained. "That's
why I didn't mention them both at once. But my deputy says that
when he was thrown by the lash of the branch he was unable to
move for a few seconds, on account of the nerve shock I suppose,
and that while he was motionless, squatted in a sort of sitting
position with hands braced behind him, just as he fell, he was
aware of a second stranger concealed in the shrubbery.
"The second fellow was watching the first, without the question
of a doubt. While the deputy slowly rose to his feet this other
chap started to follow the man who had broken into the house. But
at that moment there was the sudden sound of a self-starter in a
car, then the purr of a motor and the clatter of gears. Number
one spun off in the darkness of the road as pretty as you please.
Number two grunted, in plain disgust.
"By this time my deputy had his wind. His revolver was gone, but
he jumped the second stranger with little enough hesitation and
they battled royally for several minutes in the dark.
Unfortunately, it was an unequal match. The intruder apparently
was a stocky man, built with the strength of a battleship. He got
away also, without leaving anything behind him to serve for
identification."
"You have no more description than of the first man?"
"Unfortunately not. Medium height, a little inclined to be
stocky, strong as a longshoreman--that's all."
"Are you sure your deputy isn't romancing?"
"Positively! He's the son of one of our best families here, a
sportsman and an athlete. I knew he loved a lark, or a chance for
adventure, and so I impressed him and a companion as deputies
when I met them on the street on my way up to Phelps's house just
after the tragedy."
Kennedy lapsed into thought. Who could the self-constituted
watcher have been? Who was interested in this case other than the
proper authorities? Apparently some one knew more than Mackay,
more than Kennedy. Whoever it was had made no effort to
communicate with any of us. This was a new angle to the mystery,
a mystery which became deeper as we progressed.
At the house Kennedy first made a careful tour of the exterior,
but found nothing. Mackay had doubled his guards and had sent
Phelps's servants away so that there could be no interference.
Once inside, I noticed that Kennedy seemed indisposed to make
another minute search of the library. He went over the frame of
the French window with his lens carefully, for fingerprints.
Finding nothing, he went back directly to the portieres.
For several moments he stood regarding them in thought. Then he
began a most painstaking inspection of the cloth with the pocket
glass, beginning at the library side.
I remembered that first scene in the manuscript which Kennedy had
insisted I read. I recalled the suspicion which had flashed to me
before the message from Mackay had disturbed both Kennedy's
thoughts and mine. Stella Lamar had thrust her bare arm through
this curtain. A needle, cleverly concealed in the folds, might
easily have inflicted the fatal scratch. It was for a trace of
the poison point that Kennedy searched. Of that I was sure,
knowing his methods.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|