“Sit down, Mr. Armstrong,” directed Mitchell. Taking a chair he planted himself in front of Armstrong, while Sergeant Brown braced4 his burly figure against a convenient sofa and remained a silent onlooker5. “Now, sir, will you kindly6 tell us why you avoided the inquest on John Meredith?”
“I did not avoid it.”
“No? Well, it appeared that way to us at Headquarters,” replied Mitchell, observing Armstrong’s unconcealed annoyance7 with relish8. A man in a temper might give out valuable information. “And it has been very apparent that you have also avoided an interview with us since then.”
“Well, what of it?” Armstrong assumed a more comfortable position. “Come, Inspector, why worry about the past? Now that I am at leisure I shall be very happy to answer any questions you put to me, provided always,” with a smile meant to be ingratiating, “that it is within my power to answer them.”
“Of course,” dryly. “Why did you leave Ten Acres so precipitately9 after John Meredith signed those papers on Sunday night?”
“There was nothing precipitate10 in my conduct,” replied Armstrong, with a slight frown. “I remembered that I had some work to do at home and so went there, intending to return to Ten Acres in time for breakfast on Monday morning.”
“But you did not return then?”
“No; I overslept.”
The explanation was very pat, and the smile left Mitchell’s eyes, to be replaced by an angry glitter.
“And when did you first learn of John Meredith’s murder?” he demanded.
“I learned of his death,” with emphasis on the last word, “on Monday shortly before noon.”
“And who informed you of Meredith’s murder?” Mitchell repeated the word intentionally11 and Armstrong flushed.
“Colonel Julian Hull12, my senior partner, told me the news,” he stated. “It seems his daughter, Miss Lucille Hull, telephoned to him. I was not aware until last evening, when I called at the Hulls’, that the police authorities considered Meredith’s death was a case of murder and not suicide.”
“And what is your belief in the matter?” asked Mitchell.
Armstrong shrugged13 his shoulders. “I have formed no theories,” he answered. “The whole affair is frightfully tragic14. That John Meredith would take his own life was incredible, but to any one who knew his lovable character as I did,” meeting Mitchell’s gaze without wavering, “it is inconceivable that any one should have killed him.”
“Inconceivable perhaps, but he was killed,” responded Mitchell grimly, “and we intend to locate the murderer. At what hour did you leave Ten Acres Sunday night, and did John Meredith know that you planned to leave?”
Armstrong shook his head. “No. I left there a little before midnight.”
“Mrs. Meredith had retired16 for the night,” replied Armstrong. “Herman and Damason, the Filipino chauffeur17, were aware that I left.”
“And why did you not tell Mr. Hollister of your intended departure?”
Armstrong frowned at the Inspector’s persistency18. “It was after we had parted that I decided19 on impulse to return home that night. There was no occasion for disturbing Hollister,” he stated coldly.
Mitchell consulted his notebook in which he had made occasional entries as their conversation progressed.
“Are you well acquainted with Mr. Hollister?” he asked.
“You have just stated, Mr. Armstrong, that only Herman and Damason knew of your intended departure,” he began. “In her testimony21 at the inquest Miss Anne Meredith told of meeting you on your way out.”
“Yes, yes, I forgot; I did meet her,” broke in Armstrong with marked haste.
“And you told her of the prenuptial agreement and the codicil22 to his will, to which you had witnessed Meredith’s signature.” Mitchell paused before asking, “Wasn’t that breaking a confidence, sir?”
“Most emphatically not. Meredith did not pledge us to secrecy,” retorted Armstrong.
Mitchell scrutinized23 his flushed face for a moment in silence. “How was Miss Meredith dressed?” At the query24 Armstrong moved uncomfortably.
“I never doubted but that she was,” replied Mitchell, disgust creeping into his voice. “How was she dressed, Mr. Armstrong? Did she have on the gown she wore at dinner or a street suit?”
“In the house or out of doors?”
Armstrong’s eyes shifted from Mitchell to Sergeant Brown, who approached them at that moment, and from him back again to Mitchell.
“What’s that to you, Inspector?” demanded Armstrong.
“That’s my affair,” roughly. “Come, sir, I insist upon a direct reply. Where did you meet Miss Meredith on Sunday night?” Receiving no answer, he asked more urgently: “Was it inside the house or out? Answer at once, sir.”
“Outside the house,” sullenly.
“Outside is too vague, sir,” persisted Mitchell. “Did you meet Miss Anne close by the servants’ wing of the house and underneath27 the window of Gretchen’s bedroom?”
“That’s no business of yours!” Armstrong got to his feet in haste, an angry light in his eyes.
“I want an answer, Mr. Armstrong.”
“You won’t get it,” with sneering28 emphasis. “If I have anything more to say it will be to your superiors and in the presence of my lawyer.”
“If you are going to take that attitude, Mr. Armstrong,” Mitchell rose also, “I will see that you are served with a subpoena29 as a material witness to attend the next hearing of the inquest—”
A startled look crossed Armstrong’s face, then disappeared.
“Colonel Hull told me that the inquest was over—”
“For yesterday afternoon.” Mitchell pocketed his notebook and fountain pen. “The next hearing will be on Thursday afternoon at two o’clock at the District Morgue. I advise you not to forget to attend,” with significant emphasis. “One more question, where did you spend Sunday night—all of Sunday night?”
Armstrong’s bright color faded, leaving his sallow complexion30 a mottled yellow.
“What in blazes!” he shouted, then his voice died down as Herman drew back the portières and stepped inside the library.
The butler bowed deferentially31. “Luncheon32 is served,” he announced. “Miss Anne and Doctor Curtis are already at the table, and Miss Lucille is waiting for you in the hall.”
Flinging a word over his shoulder, which Mitchell failed to distinguish, Armstrong hurried into the reception hall as the Inspector, with a quiet nod to Herman, opened the French window on the veranda33 and, followed by his faithful henchman, Sergeant Brown, strode across the lawn in the direction of the lodge34.
Luncheon, judged by Curtis’ feelings, was a long and trying ordeal35. No one except Lucille felt inclined for conversation. When dessert was served she shot an aggrieved36 look at her cousin, which Anne missed entirely37, and finally lapsed38 into silence. The scene in the hall and the finding of the discolored scalpel was ever present in Curtis’ mind, and his anxiety was not relieved by Anne’s absent-minded replies and unresponsive manner. As far as possible he bore the brunt of Lucille’s efforts to force conversation. Gerald Armstrong, on the contrary, contented39 himself with eating a remarkably40 good luncheon and confined himself to monosyllables, if he troubled to speak at all.
As they left the table, Armstrong edged his way to Anne’s side and motioned to her to wait. She cast a quick glance at Lucille and Curtis, who had preceded her toward the hall, then turned with marked reluctance41 to face her companion.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Why are you avoiding me?” with blunt directness.
Anne flushed. “I was under the impression that I went for a motor ride with you this morning—”
“With Lucille along,” he broke in, making no attempt to modify his aggressive manner. “You have avoided me.”
“I have not.” Anne’s eyes sparkled with anger. “Nor,” with quiet significance, “have I run away.” It was Armstrong’s turn to flush. “I must see you alone,” he insisted, raising his voice.
Herman, busy removing the dessert plates, turned and eyed them with unconcealed interest. The servants at Ten Acres had little liking42 for Armstrong; his overbearing manner and utter lack of consideration for them accounted for his unpopularity. They accepted his generous tips with outward thanks and inward rebellion over his presence in the house.
Armstrong’s marked attention to Lucille had explained in Herman’s inquisitive43 mind the reason of Meredith’s many invitations to dinner-dances and house parties. That Meredith was particularly attached to the young stockbroker44, the butler had had occasion to doubt, having witnessed one or two heated arguments between them. Armstrong had once or twice expressed himself at the dinner table in mocking terms about “bread and butter misses,” and therefore, that he should suddenly evince a preference for Anne’s society, whose unsophisticated outlook on life, and unspoiled, sunny disposition45 had endeared her to the servants, caused Herman to linger over his work in the dining room in the hope of overhearing what transpired46. His hopes, however, were promptly47 frustrated48.
“I hear the front doorbell, Herman,” Anne turned her back on Armstrong to address the butler. Looking over her shoulder, she spoke49 to Armstrong and the disdain50 in her charmingly modulated51 voice made him flush again, but this time with anger. “There is no occasion for seeing you alone, Gerald.”
“Isn’t there?” His laugh was unpleasant. “Suppose, instead of having a friendly chat with you, I go to the police?”
Anne’s hands clenched52 over her handkerchief. Without deigning53 to reply, she hurried into the hall in time to meet her mother as the latter came in the front door with Sam Hollister.
“Have you lunched, mother?” she asked, as Susanne appeared to take Mrs. Meredith’s wraps, while Herman relieved the lawyer of his overcoat and hat.
“I had a salad and cup of coffee at the Shoreham,” replied Mrs. Meredith. “How about you, Sam?”
“No luncheon for me, thanks.” Hollister picked up his leather brief case, and glanced at Mrs. Meredith. “Shall we proceed with business?”
“It would be best.” Mrs. Meredith removed her hat and handed it to Susanne, paused before the hall mirror to inspect her hair and gave it a deft54 touch here and there before turning to her daughter. “Come into the library, Anne. Where is Lucille?”
“Already in the library, mother.”
“In that case,” Mrs. Meredith started for the library, then halted as Gerald Armstrong appeared from the dining room where he had stood just inside the door watching them. “Ah, Gerald, good morning.” As he returned her greeting and stepped forward to accompany her into the library she motioned him to stop. “You will have to excuse us,” she explained. “Mr. Hollister is to read Mr. Meredith’s will and only his relatives are to be present.” With a gracious bow she stepped past Armstrong. The latter tried to catch Anne’s eye, but she walked by with head averted55, listening to what Hollister, on her right, was saying. Armstrong bit his mustache, paused uncertainly, then, ignoring Susanne’s muttered apology as he brushed against her, he opened the front door and stepped out on the veranda.
At sound of Mrs. Meredith’s entrance Curtis rose from his seat by Lucille and turned toward her. “Why, Cousin Belle56, I did not hear you return,” exclaimed Lucille, springing up. “We should have waited luncheon for you,” with a reproachful look at Anne.
“I told Anne not to wait,” remarked Mrs. Meredith. “While Sam was going over papers in his office I went to the Shoreham and had a bite to eat. Now, Sam, if you will proceed, please.”
Hollister drew forward a card table and placed his brief case on it. “I have here,” he began, “the last will and testament57 of John Meredith. It was signed by Meredith in my office a year ago and left in my care. To-day, in the presence of the proper officials, I took it out of my vault58 and have brought it here to read in the presence of John Meredith’s relatives.”
“Just a moment, please.” Curtis stepped forward, and addressed Mrs. Meredith. “I fear my presence is an intrusion. If you will let me withdraw—”
“Please wait, doctor.” The color flashed up in Mrs. Meredith’s face, and a smile, which Anne remembered afterwards as both beautiful and ingratiating, lit her fine dark eyes. “My daughter would, I am sure, prefer to have you here.”
Curtis hesitated in uncertainty59. Was he really wanted?
“Please stay.” Anne’s soft voice solved his doubts and he resumed his seat as she moved over and sat down by Lucille on the sofa.
Hollister picked up a document which he had taken a moment before from his brief case while watching the little scene between Mrs. Meredith and the blind surgeon. But his reading of the will was doomed60 to another interruption. The portières were thrust forcibly to one side as Colonel Julian Hull walked unannounced into the library.
“Why wasn’t I notified, Belle?” he demanded. “As John’s first cousin I am entitled to be present at the reading of his will.”
“Lucille represented you,” she replied coldly. “Who informed you, Julian, that the will was being read?”
“What concern is that of yours?” with a scowl61. “Go on, Hollister,” and without a word to any of the others he flung himself down in the nearest chair.
It seemed to Anne, as Hollister’s deep voice went on and on, that she would never hear the end of “whereas” and “because of” which sprinkled each page of the document. At its close, Hollister laid the will on the table and touched another more bulky manuscript.
“This,” he explained, “is the complete list, mentioned in Mr. Meredith’s will, of special bequests62 of his personal effects. Do you wish it read aloud?”
“No.” Colonel Hull was on his feet, his eyes blazing with anger. “I have heard enough. According to that document, Hollister, Anne Meredith is given one million dollars and Ten Acres. The rest of his fortune goes to charities and Lucille, my daughter, gets a paltry64 one hundred thousand dollars and a diamond necklace. What,” he turned and glared at Mrs. Meredith and her daughter, “what have you done with the codicil, signed by John on Sunday night, in which the million-dollar bequest63 to Anne was revoked65 and that amount given to Lucille?”
Mrs. Meredith straightened her stately figure. “Your language is obnoxious,” she said, and would have added more, but Sam Hollister interrupted her, his gaze grave with displeasure.
“We are all aware that the codicil and prenuptial agreement have disappeared,” he pointed66 out. “When I left John on Sunday night the documents were on his bed and Lucille was with him.”
Lucille paled as she met her father’s glance. “They were still on the bed when I went to my room a few minutes after you left, Sam,” she said, a catch in her voice.
“Do you suppose Lucille would suppress a document giving her one million dollars?” Colonel Hull laughed scornfully, even as he put the question. “The idea is absurd.”
“It is no more absurd than to suggest by inference that some one in this room is responsible for its disappearance,” retorted Mrs. Meredith, with spirit. “You forget yourself, Julian.”
“I shall fight for Lucille’s rights,” shouted Colonel Hull, his temper at white heat. “That will shan’t be probated without a contest.”
Hollister replaced the will and its accompanying manuscript in his brief case and carefully closed and locked the leather flap. Slipping the key in his pocket he faced the infuriated stockbroker.
“This document will be filed with the registrar67 of wills at once,” he said. “You are at liberty to take whatever action you please.” He turned to Mrs. Meredith. “I am going to my room, Mrs. Meredith, and within the hour shall return to my office. Is there anything I can do for you and Anne?”
“Nothing, thank you,” Mrs. Meredith was graciousness itself, “except to return in time for dinner. I will consult with you then,” and she nodded a friendly good-by.
As Hollister, with a kindly word to Anne who sat as one dazed, passed Curtis he tapped the blind surgeon on the shoulder.
“Come up to my room,” he whispered, and not waiting to hear what Curtis said to Mrs. Meredith, slipped out of the room as Colonel Hull and his agitated68 daughter disappeared into the little-used drawing-room.
Curtis was not far behind Hollister in reaching the latter’s bedroom.
“What do you wish to see me about, Hollister?” he asked, as the lawyer closed the bedroom door and half dragged him over to the window seat.
“A new development,” answered the lawyer tersely69. “You recall this inventory,” taking a sheet of paper out of his wallet. “It is the paper we found in John’s secretary which bears the notation70, in his handwriting: ‘Contents of safe deposit box belongs to.’”
“Yes, I recollect71 it,” Curtis said impatiently as the lawyer paused. “The name was evidently clipped off the page. Go on.”
“We opened the safe deposit box this morning in the presence of the officers of the Metropolis72 Bank and court officials,” Hollister spoke with subdued73 excitement. “It was a large box—”
“And what did its contents comprise?” questioned Curtis eagerly. “Meredith’s will?”
“No. I had that in my office vault.”
Curtis straightened up and turned his sightless eyes upon his companion. “Did you find the missing documents?”
“No, neither of them.” Hollister spoke with impressive slowness. “The box was empty except for this key,” and he laid it in Curtis’ hand.
In dumfounded silence Curtis ran his fingers over the grooves74 and notches75 and then traced the name stamped upon it in raised letters.
“Yes.” Hollister dropped his voice until he almost whispered. “The tag bears, in Meredith’s handwriting, the single word—Duplicate.”
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1
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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onlooker
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| n.旁观者，观众 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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precipitately
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| adv.猛进地 | |
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precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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intentionally
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| ad.故意地，有意地 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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persistency
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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codicil
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| n.遗嘱的附录 | |
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scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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subpoena
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| n.（法律）传票；v.传讯 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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deferentially
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| adv.表示敬意地，谦恭地 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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ordeal
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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stockbroker
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| n.股票（或证券），经纪人（或机构） | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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transpired
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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frustrated
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| adj.挫败的，失意的，泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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modulated
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| 已调整[制]的，被调的 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deigning
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的现在分词 ) | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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56
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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bequests
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| n.遗赠( bequest的名词复数 )；遗产，遗赠物 | |
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bequest
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| n.遗赠；遗产，遗物 | |
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64
paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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revoked
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| adj.[法]取消的v.撤销，取消，废除( revoke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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registrar
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| n.记录员，登记员；(大学的)注册主任 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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tersely
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| adv. 简捷地, 简要地 | |
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notation
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| n.记号法，表示法，注释；[计算机]记法 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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grooves
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| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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notches
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| n.（边缘或表面上的）V型痕迹( notch的名词复数 )；刻痕；水平；等级 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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