"Have you read the news?" he demanded, slapping the paper down in front of Kennedy.
We read at the point where Doyle's forefinger1 indicated. It was a personal inserted among the advertisements by Doctor Lathrop himself. No longer, it announced, would he be responsible for the debts of Vina Lathrop, his wife. Lathrop had at last definitely broken with her.
Kennedy and I exchanged glances. I recalled the quarrel we had interrupted on our last visit to them. Evidently that had been the climax2. Nor was I surprised. It had seemed inconceivable to me, since my conversation with Belle3 Balcom, that ever Lathrop could be the kind of man to sit complacently4 under the growing gossip about Vina. How he had even waited so long was a mystery, unless to assure himself that what he heard was the truth. For men of Lathrop's stamp are the last to condone5 [219] anything in a wife, no matter what may be their own standards for themselves.
"Well, at any rate," conjectured6 Doyle, rather heartlessly, I thought, "I don't think people will waste a great deal of sympathy on her. It leaves Vina Lathrop no more than she deserves. The man she tried to use is dead. The man she sought to capture has turned her down cold. Now the husband she had no use for, except as a meal ticket, has left her. I can't see but what that dame7 had it all coming to her."
Kennedy refrained from comment. "Where has she gone?" he asked merely. "Do you know?"
Doyle shook his head. "This is the first that I knew that they were separated," he responded. "No, I haven't any idea where she is."
"What of Doctor Lathrop?"
"He seemed to have taken it very calmly. From what I hear, he hasn't even interrupted his practice. He stays there at the Drive address where he has his office. I suppose she has gone to a hotel, or perhaps out of town. I'll find out for you and have her watched, if you want."
Kennedy nodded, but did not say anything, and I know Doyle's attitude had not raised that gentleman any higher in Craig's estimation. It all seemed very strange, and, I felt sure, however, well worth following up.
"Of course, you know we haven't neglected the Wilford telephone wire," put in Doyle, sensing that [220] all was not just as it should be, yet not knowing just why.
"What did you do?"
"Put in a tap. Then I had McCabe and others listening in in relays in another room."
"Yes?"
"Here's a report of what they got this morning."
Doyle pulled out a sheet of thin paper on which had been typed some notes.
"There was a call early this morning for her," he said, as he ran his eye down the sheet. "It was from Shattuck—without a doubt. He's suspicious. The first part of the conversation shows that, you see."
"Let me read it, if you don't mind?" asked Kennedy.
"Not at all," agreed, Doyle, handing the copy to Craig.
Together we read it.
"Good morning," it began. "Is this you, Honora?"
"Oh, good morning," she replied.
(It was apparent that Mrs. Wilford recognized the voice, but she was cautious about repeating the name.)
"I've something very important to tell you—but—well, not over the telephone. Is anybody listening?"
"I don't know. I suppose there is. Everything I do is spied on and watched. I can't write a letter. I can't go out—"
"I suppose that's right. If you went out you'd be followed. There's no place that's safe. Probably somebody's getting an earful of this," came back the other voice. "Still, I've something very important to say to you. Hang it! I'm going to drop in and see you, Honora. This isn't an autocracy—yet. [221] They can't prevent me talking to you in your own home. Though, I suppose, even that is an offense8. However, I'll call. Keep a stiff upper lip. Don't let them put anything over on you."
Mrs. Wilford must have tried to laugh it off, for the operative had drawn9 a line indicating a laugh and had added merely the repetition of the words, "Good-by."
Doyle looked at our faces as we read. "I have a scheme," he announced, craftily10. "See what you think of it. There's that dictagraph I put in, you know."
Kennedy nodded. Although our opinion of Doyle was not of the highest, it was not impossible that here was a situation that called for no great amount of cleverness to surmount11.
"Want to use it?" he asked.
Kennedy considered.
"I put the thing in right. There's a receiver in every room, and I've got a sort of central office there. You can listen in on any room you please by just throwing a switch."
Kennedy assumed a flattering manner. "Just the thing, Doyle," he acquiesced12. "Now look here. This is the way to work it. You go there first—not to the room, but to the apartment. Stay around there a bit as though you were looking for something, then leave and take care to make it certain that they know you are going away some distance and will be gone some time."
"I get you," agreed Doyle. "Then McCabe—"
[222]
"Confound McCabe!" interrupted Kennedy. "He must clear out, too. He's buzzing around that maid, Celeste. Well, for once it may lead to something. Give McCabe something to do that will take him away, too. Then tell him to let Celeste know. Get it? Make it as plain as day to her that for once you are all off the job. Then she'll think it's safe—unless she's clever," added Kennedy. "Meanwhile Jameson and I will slip into that little listening post of yours. Maybe we'll get something. You can't tell."
"It sounds all right," commented Doyle, loosening a key from a ring. "There's the key—it's Apartment K where the dictagraph is."
"All right," remarked Kennedy, taking it. "Now go along and get your end of the plant working. Do everything you can to let her believe that you've relaxed. I'll get there in half an hour. We can't put this off too long."
Doyle left with alacrity13. For once he could understand Kennedy's method and approve it.
Half an hour later we entered the Wilford apartment-house, taking care to do so at a time when the elevator was not down at the ground floor. As far as we knew, no one interested had seen us come in. That was the one chance we were forced to take. Its only disadvantage was that it made it necessary for us to walk up eight flights of stairs, and even then to go carefully, lest we meet some one in the hall.
However, we found Apartment K at last without [223] any difficulty, opened the door, and admitted ourselves quietly. Doyle had located the dictagraph in this room, two floors below the apartment of the Wilfords', in this vacant suite14.
As we entered, I saw that in the room were merely a deal table and a couple of chairs. On the table lay the box containing the receiving end of the dictagraph, to which already were fitted the head and ear pieces for listening. The switch on the table was marked, showing the various rooms in which the transmitters had been placed and arranged so that one might follow from one room to another, if necessary. There was paper for notes on the table, too, but otherwise the room was bare.
Kennedy adjusted the ear-pieces over his head, much as a wireless15 operator might have done, and, noting how he did it, I followed suit.
Then we waited. I could hear the clicks as he moved the switch past one connection after another, trying out the various rooms to see whether there was any one in them or not.
There was no one in the living-room, but as we listened we could hear the striking of a small clock on the mantel. From room to room we went, in imagination, almost as if we had been there, but able to go about unobserved. Had Honora been clever enough to penetrate16 our ruse17? Or had Doyle and McCabe executed their end of the scheme clumsily?
We waited impatiently, wondering whether, after all, it was a fools' errand for us.
[224]
Suddenly I could hear a dull, rhythmical18 noise above the mild buzzing of the dictagraph.
"What's that?" I asked, almost in a whisper, which was involuntary.
"Footsteps of some one coming down the hall into the library," replied Kennedy. "I fancied from slight noises which I heard that Honora was in there, alone, reading perhaps. I thought I caught the rustle19 of paper."
I could now make out the vibrations20 more clearly, then the low, almost inaudible buzz of a voice.
"Now it's plainer," I whispered.
Kennedy frowned. "They can't hear you," he reminded. "Still—don't forget I can."
I took the broad hint and was silent. Kennedy adjusted the machine for loudness and gradually I could hear the lowered voices being caught and played up.
It was Honora speaking to her maid, Celeste, who had just entered.
"You've been down in Mrs. Smith's apartment?" we heard Honora ask.
"Yes, madame."
Kennedy shot a glance at me. Two, then, could play at the same game of watching. Evidently the maid had evolved the scheme of visiting some friendly maid in the building, and from that vantage-point watching the watchers. I trusted that she had seen nothing of us. It could hardly be that she had—or at least that they suspected the presence of the dictagraph, or they would not have [225] talked even in whispers, when they might have written and thus have been safe from being overheard. I was beginning to be relieved.
"Why did that McCabe tell you he had a day off?" asked Honora, thoughtfully. "Did he really go?"
"Yes, madame. And the other man hasn't come in. Mr. Doyle was here, but he didn't stay long. I heard him telephone for a taxicab to take him to the Grand Central. He seemed to be catching22 a train and looked as if prepared to stay away overnight."
"A train?" caught up Honora, eagerly. "Very well, Celeste. When Mr. Shattuck comes, let him in. Watch. Let me know if you see any one watching. It—it seems—I can't understand it."
The maid murmured something soothing23 in French to Honora and departed.
For some time—it seemed an hour—we waited in silence. Finally Kennedy reached over and touched my elbow. Again I could hear that low vibration21, as of some one walking.
"It's Shattuck—I'll bet," Craig cried, excitedly.
Sure enough, it was, as we soon found out both by his voice and the conversation.
"You've heard about Vina and the doctor?" he asked, almost as soon as he entered.
"No," replied Honora. "What about them?"
"They've separated. Lathrop has put a notice in the papers that he will no longer be responsible for his wife's debts."
[226]
Honora uttered a quick exclamation24 of surprise.
"Rather a nasty thing for the doctor to do, though," commented Shattuck, then added, hastily, "I mean the way he did it—publicly, in the papers, and all that sort of thing."
"I suppose so," came reluctantly from Honora's lips.
Kennedy smiled. It was very human, after all. Nor could one blame Honora for having scant25 sympathy with the woman who had caused her so much pain and anguish26.
There was silence for several moments, in which I trusted that Shattuck was duly chastened for having expressed any sympathy for Vina, even in a casual way.
"Tell me, Vance," she asked, finally, with just a trace of eagerness showing in her voice in spite of herself. "You never really cared for her—did you?"
Shattuck answered quickly. "Why, you poor foolish little girl—don't you understand yet? It was she—set out to capture me—not I who sought her. Ask anybody. They'll tell you. I begin to believe everybody knows it—knew it long before even I saw it. How Lathrop could have missed it so long is beyond me. Don't you see? It placed me in rather an awkward position. I wanted to warn him—yet how could I? Of course I never cared for her. The fact is that I have had to avoid her, even when she tried to make some business deals through me. Why, only yesterday Lathrop [227] came to see me. It must have been just before he put that advertisement in the papers. I had the very deuce of a time to make him see the case. As luck would have it, though, Kennedy was there. I hope he got an eyeful. Once before he saw me with her. It was when she was trying to sell some stock."
Honora said nothing, though apparently27 the explanation was just what she wanted to hear and it satisfied her.
I looked over at Craig. If it was true, I felt that it was greatly to the credit of Shattuck, knowing his reputation. But was it true? Was it not what he would have said to Honora, anyway? Might it not be that he was laying the foundations for an alibi28 in case Kennedy or some one else retailed29 stories to her?
"Are they still just as insolent30 up here to you?" he asked, solicitously31, after another silence, changing the subject to one more intimate.
"Oh, Vance, it's awful!" she confessed.
"The deuce!" he exclaimed, hotly. "Sometimes I feel as though I could fight the whole crowd of them, Kennedy included. It's an outrage32, this constant suspicion of you."
"But, Vance," she murmured, "you know you must be careful for yourself, too."
"And you, Honora?" he replied. "Have you no need of help, no need of a friend?"
It was evident that each feared for the other, recognizing the suspicion under which both labored33. [228] More than that, there was genuine regard between them, it was evident, tempered with restraint.
"I suppose you've heard that they've found a Calabar bean down in Vail's office, on the floor?" asked Shattuck, hesitating, but finally coming to a remark which evidently had been on his mind and cost him something to make.
I was all ears, in hope that he would betray something about having some of the beans in his own possession, or that Honora would betray something about having Chase search Shattuck's apartment, if, indeed, she had ordered the young detective to do it. But neither of them said a word. Was it because they knew nothing, or was there a tacit understanding between them never to mention some mutual34 secret?
"So I've been told," was the simple reply Honora made to Shattuck's inquiry35.
"Who told you?"
"Mr. Doyle, himself," she replied.
"Has Kennedy done anything?" he asked, quickly.
"I had another visit from him yesterday."
"What did he want this time?"
"He had a list of words—more of his science. I can't refuse to do what he asks—and yet—I'm afraid. You know these scientists know so many things that aren't so about women."
Kennedy nodded over at me. I knew what was passing in his mind. It was surely strange to hear oneself discussed and I recalled the old adage36 about [229] eavesdroppers hearing nothing good of themselves. Besides, I knew that his Freud theory had struck home. Honora's very anger at the theory was proof enough that it struck home in one of her own "complexes."
"Confound him!" muttered Shattuck. "I suppose you are right, though. You know this ordeal37 bean from the Calabar? Of course you remember the derivative38 from your father's place—the physostigmine. Well, the beans are used in a queer, primitive39 sort of dueling41 by the natives. They cut the beans in half. Each eats a half. It is a sort of a duel40 by ordeal."
"Yes," she answered, quickly. "So I've been told."
Kennedy nodded to me.
Neither of them said more about it. Was it because they recognized it as a dangerous subject? Or had Honora really discovered the dictagraph in her own home? In that case, this very conversation was being held for our benefit, out of sheer bravado42.
Nothing more of importance was said and we figuratively followed them out into the hall and over a good-by that was considerably43 lengthened44 by Shattuck and threatened to become sentimental45. Only Honora restrained it.
"What next?" I asked, as we could hear the slam of the door in the Wilford apartment.
"I don't think I shall stay and listen here," concluded Kennedy. "I can't see that we've found out [230] a great deal, as it is. There are several things that must be done immediately. First of all, I want to see Lathrop. It may be that we'll find out something from him."
We made our way out of the apartment, as we had entered, trusting that with our care we would not be observed.
A few minutes later we were at the door of the waiting-room of Lathrop's office.
"Evidently he doesn't take the affair any too deeply," commented Craig.
I looked about. The office was as full of patients as ever, and he was going about his professional work much as though nothing at all had occurred to disturb his peace of mind.
We waited until the last patient had gone and finally were able to see him alone.
"I can guess what you are here for," he greeted, without a trace of embarrassment46. "I suppose the afternoon papers will be full of it. Already I've had a string of reporters—one from your own paper, Mr. Jameson," he added, significantly—"a Miss Balcom. Do you know her?"
"Yes," I answered, as offhand47 as possible, "she is a very clever writer. Did you—er—tell her any—"
"Not a word to say," he interrupted, bruskly, "not a word to say. I refused to make any statement. What's the use? The fact stands for itself."
In spite of what he said, it was evident that he would talk, at least a bit.
[231]
"Then you knew all about—what was going on, all along?" inquired Kennedy.
"I had my suspicions," the doctor replied, airily. "I cannot afford to be held up to ridicule48. It was a matter of saving my very career. As for the Wilford story—pouf! I don't care a rap about it—that is, I didn't until the gossips added the Shattuck scandal to it."
Whatever he might say, it was evident that his lips belied49 his real feelings. He was really bitter both toward the memory of Wilford and toward Shattuck as well, conceal50 it as much as he might try.
"Then you credit the Shattuck rumors51?" demanded Kennedy.
"I won't say," snapped the doctor, testily52.
"Where has Mrs. Lathrop gone?" asked Kennedy, point-blank.
"How do I know?" bridled53 Lathrop. "I've heard her talk about friends at the Sainte-Germaine—perhaps you might find her there. You're a detective," he added, coolly, then suddenly: "That's right. Get her side of the story. Play it up, if you like. You might as well. Yes, by all means. Then perhaps I can set you right on some points. Don't mind me. Good morning, gentlemen," he bustled54, taking up his black doctor's bag. "I have a very serious case waiting for me."
Kennedy did not comment as we left, but beckoned55 quickly to a vacant taxicab and we were whisked to the Sainte-Germaine.
[232]
I knew it was of no use to try to see Mrs. Lathrop in the ordinary manner, and, therefore, adopted one of my many newspaper ruses56 to find out where her room was and then to get to it.
As she opened the door to what seemed to be an innocent knock from a chambermaid or bell-hop, she exclaimed in surprise at seeing Kennedy and myself.
Almost, I exclaimed also. Vina Lathrop seemed to be a changed woman.
"Why have you followed me here?" she demanded. "Did he send you—or was it that woman?"
"Neither," returned Kennedy. "It's not so easy to hide away in New York."
She did not move from the door, nor did she invite us in. Still, I could see that she was there alone, that the "friends" whom Lathrop had hinted at were either mythical57 or that she had not gone to them.
"I thought that perhaps you might like to tell us what the real reason for the break was," hinted Kennedy. "Of course, Mrs. Lathrop, there's no use for me to beat about the bush. You know and we know just what the world is saying. If I might be of any assistance to you—putting things straight, you know—"
He paused, endeavoring to see whether she showed any disposition58 to talk.
For a moment she was silent, biting her lips.
"I never want to speak to him again," she burst out, passionately59, at length. "You will have to see [233] Doctor Lathrop about that—at present," she added, sullenly60.
"Does Mr. Shattuck know where you are?"
"I suppose every one will know—now," she cried, a look almost of alarm crossing her now pale face. "Really—I have nothing to say. You must see my—my lawyer."
"And he is—?"
"I shall let that be known—when I get ready," she blazed, turning. "Now, might I ask you to leave me? I don't see how you got past the floor clerk, anyhow. Good-by. I—I don't want to have a scene."
She closed the door and we heard the bolt shoot.
Somehow I could not help having my suspicions aroused by her very manner, as we turned away. Did she know something—and was she really afraid of us?
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forefinger
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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belle
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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condone
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conjectured
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dame
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offense
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drawn
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craftily
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surmount
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acquiesced
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alacrity
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suite
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wireless
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penetrate
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ruse
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rhythmical
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rustle
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vibrations
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vibration
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catching
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soothing
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exclamation
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scant
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anguish
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apparently
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alibi
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retailed
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insolent
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solicitously
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outrage
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labored
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mutual
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inquiry
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adage
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ordeal
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derivative
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primitive
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duel
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dueling
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bravado
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considerably
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lengthened
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sentimental
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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offhand
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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50
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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51
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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52
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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53
bridled
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的过去式和过去分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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54
bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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55
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
ruses
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| n.诡计，计策( ruse的名词复数 ) | |
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mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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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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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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