The Affair Next Door (30 page)

"You are right," I nodded, and forgave them on the spot. If I could not
withstand Mr. Gryce's eloquence—and it affected me at times—how could
I expect these girls to. Besides, they had not revealed the more
important secret I had confided to them, and in consideration of this I
was ready to pardon them most anything.

"That the clock was going at the time the shelves fell, and that he
should be the one to draw our attention to it would seem to the
superficial mind proof positive that he was innocent of the deed with
which it was so closely associated," the detective proceeded. "But to
one skilled in the subterfuges of criminals, this seemingly conclusive
fact in his favor was capable of an explanation so in keeping with the
subtlety shown in every other feature of this remarkable crime, that I
began to regard it as a point against him rather than in his favor. Of
which more hereafter.

"Not allowing myself to be deterred, then, by this momentary set-back,
and rejoicing in an affair considered as settled by my superiors, I
proceeded to establish Franklin Van Burnam's connection with the crime
which had been laid with so much apparent reason at his brother's door.

"The first fact to be settled was, of course, whether your
identification of him as the gentleman who accompanied his victim into
Mr. Van Burnam's house could be corroborated by any of the many persons
who had seen the so-called Mr. James Pope at the Hotel D—.

"As none of the witnesses who attended the inquest had presumed to
recognize in either of these sleek and haughty gentlemen the shrinking
person just mentioned, I knew that any open attempt on my part to bring
about an identification would result disastrously. So I employed
strategy—like my betters, Miss Butterworth" (here his bow was
overpowering in its mock humility); "and rightly considering that for a
person to be satisfactorily identified with another, he must be seen
under the same circumstances and in nearly the same place, I sought out
Franklin Van Burnam, and with specious promises of some great benefit to
be done his brother, induced him to accompany me to the Hotel D—.

"Whether he saw through my plans and thought that a brave front and an
assumption of candor would best serve him in this unexpected dilemma, or
whether he felt so entrenched behind the precautions he had taken as not
to fear discovery under any circumstances, he made but one demur before
preparing to accompany me. This demur was significant, however, for it
was occasioned by my advice to change his dress for one less
conspicuously fashionable, or to hide it under an ulster or mackintosh.
And as a proof of his hardihood—remember, madam, that his connection
with this crime has been established—he actually did put on the ulster,
though he must have known what a difference it would make in his
appearance.

"The result was all I could desire. As we entered the hotel, I saw a
certain hackman start and lean forward to look after him. It was the one
who had driven Mr. and Mrs. Pope away from the hotel. And when we passed
the porter, the wink which I gave him was met by a lift of his eyelids
which he afterwards interpreted into 'Like! very like!'

"But it was from the clerk I received the most unequivocal proof of his
identity. On entering the office I had left Mr. Van Burnam as near as
possible to the spot where Mr. Pope had stood while his so-called wife
was inscribing their names in the register, and bidding him to remain in
the background while I had a few words at the desk, all in his brother's
interests of course, I succeeded in secretly directing Mr. Henshaw's
attention towards him. The start which he gave and the exclamation he
uttered were unequivocal. 'Why, there's the man now!' he cried, happily
in a whisper. 'Anxious look, drooping head, brown moustache, everything
but the duster.' 'Bah!' said I; 'that's Mr.
Franklin
Van Burnam you
are looking at! What are you thinking of?' 'Can't help it,' said he; 'I
saw both of the brothers at the inquest, and saw nothing in them then to
remind me of our late mysterious guest. But as he stands there, he's a
— sight more like James Pope than the other one is, and don't you
forget it.' I shrugged my shoulders, told him he was a fool, and that
fools had better keep their follies to themselves, and came away with my
man, outwardly disgusted but inwardly in most excellent trim for
pursuing an investigation which had opened so auspiciously.

"Whether this man possessed any motive for a crime so seemingly out of
accordance with his life and disposition was, of course, the next point
to settle. His conduct at the inquest certainly showed no decided
animosity toward his brother's wife, nor was there on the surface of
affairs any token of the mortal hatred which alone could account for a
crime at once so deliberate and so brutal. But we detectives plunge
below the surface, and after settling the question of Franklin's
identity with the so-called Mr. Pope of the Hotel D—, I left New York
and its interests—among which I reckoned your efforts at detective
work, Miss Butterworth—to a young man in my office, who, I am afraid,
did not quite understand the persistence of your character; for he had
nothing to tell me concerning you on my return, save that you had been
cultivating Miss Althorpe, which, of course, was such a natural thing
for you to do, I wonder he thought it necessary to mention it.

"My destination was Four Corners, the place where Howard first met his
future wife. In relating what I learned there, I shall doubtless repeat
facts with which you are acquainted, Miss Butterworth."

"That is of no consequence," I returned, with almost brazen duplicity;
for I not only was ignorant of what he was going to say, but had every
reason to believe that it would bear as remote a connection as possible
to the secret then laboring in my breast. "A statement of the case from
your lips," I pursued, "will emphasize what I know. Do not stint any of
your disclosures, then, I beg. I have an ear for all." This was truer
than my rather sarcastic tone would convey, for might not his story
after all prove to have some unexpected relation with the facts I had
myself gathered together.

"It is a pleasure," said he, "to think I am capable of giving any
information to Miss Butterworth, and as I did not run across you or your
very nimble and pert little maid during my stay at Four Corners, I shall
take it for granted that you confined your inquiries to the city and the
society of which you are such a shining light."

This in reference to my double visit at Miss Althorpe's, no doubt.

"Four Corners is a charming town in Southern Vermont, and here, three
years ago, Howard Van Burnam first met Miss Stapleton. She was living in
a gentleman's family at that time as travelling companion to his invalid
daughter."

Ah, now I could see what explanation this wary old detective gave
himself of my visits to Miss Althorpe, and began to hug myself in
anticipation of my coming triumph over him.

"The place did not fit her, for Miss Stapleton only shone in the society
of men; but Mr. Harrison had not yet discovered this special
idiosyncrasy of hers, and as his daughter was able to see a few friends,
and in fact needed some diversion, the way was open to her companion for
that acquaintance with Mr. Van Burnam which has led to such disastrous
results.

"The house at which their meeting took place was a private one, and I
soon found out many facts not widely known in this city. First, that she
was not so much in love with Howard as he was with her.
He
succumbed
to her fascinations at once, and proposed, I believe, within two weeks
after seeing her; but though she accepted him, few of those who saw them
together thought her affections very much engaged till Franklin suddenly
appeared in town, when her whole manner underwent a change, and she
became so sparklingly and irresistibly beautiful that her avowed lover
became doubly enslaved, and Franklin—Well, there is evidence to prove
that he was not insensible to her charms either; that, in spite of her
engagement to his brother and the attitude which honor bade him hold
towards his prospective sister-in-law, he lost his head for a short
time at least, and under her seductions I do not doubt, for she was a
double-faced woman according to general repute, went so far as to
express his passion in a letter of which I heard much before I was so
fortunate as to obtain a sight of it. This was three years ago, and I
think Miss Stapleton would have been willing to have broken with Howard
and married Franklin if the latter had had the courage to meet his
brother's reproaches. But he evidently was deficient in this quality.
His very letter, which is a warm one, but which holds out no hope to her
of any closer bond between them than that offered by her prospective
union with his brother, shows that he still retained some sense of
honor, and as he presently left Four Corners and did not appear again
where they were till just before their marriage, it is probable that all
would have gone well if the woman had shared this sentiment with him.
But she was made up of mean materials, and while willing to marry Howard
for what he could give her or what she thought he could give her, she
yet cherished an implacable grudge against Franklin for his weakness, as
she called it, in not following the dictates of his heart. Being sly as
well as passionate, she hid her feelings from every one but a venial,
though apparently devoted confidante, a young girl named—"

"Oliver," I finished in my own mind.

But the name he mentioned was quite different.

"Pigot," he said, looking at the filigree basket he held in his hand as
if he picked this word out from one of its many interstices. "She was
French, and after once finding her, I had but little difficulty in
learning all she had to tell. She had been Miss Harrison's maid, but
she was not above serving Miss Stapleton in many secret and dishonorable
ways. As a consequence, she could give me the details of an interview
which that lady had held with Franklin Van Burnam on the evening of her
wedding. It took place in Mr. Harrison's garden, and was supposed to be
a secret one, but the woman who arranged the meeting was not the person
to keep away from it when it occurred, and consequently I have been
enabled to learn with more or less accuracy what took place between
them. It was not to Miss Stapleton's credit. Mr. Van Burnam merely
wanted his letter back, but she refused to return it unless he would
promise her a complete recognition by his family of her marriage and
ensure her a reception in his father's house as Howard's wife. This was
more than he could engage himself to perform. He had already, according
to his own story, made every effort possible to influence the old
gentleman in her favor, but had only succeeded in irritating him against
himself. It was an acknowledgment which would have satisfied most women,
but it did not satisfy her. She declared her intention of keeping the
letter for fear he would cease his exertions; and heedless of the effect
produced upon him by the barefaced threat, proceeded to inveigh against
his brother for the very love which made her union with him possible;
and as if this was not bad enough, showed at the same time such a
disposition to profit by whatever worldly good the match promised, that
Franklin lost all regard for her, and began to hate her.

"As he made no effort to conceal his feelings, she must have become
immediately aware of the change which had taken place in them. But
however affected by this, she gave no sign of relenting in her purpose.
On the contrary, she persisted in her determination to retain his
letter, and when he remonstrated with her and threatened to leave town
before her marriage, she retorted by saying that, if he did so, she
would show his letter to his brother as soon as the minister had made
them one. This threat seemed to affect Franklin deeply, and while it
intensified his feeling of animosity towards her, subjected him for the
moment to her whim. He stayed in Four Corners till the ceremony was
performed, but was such a gloomy guest that all united in saying that he
did the occasion no credit.

"So much for my work in Four Corners."

I had by this time become aware that Mr. Gryce was addressing himself
chiefly to the Inspector, being gratified no doubt at this opportunity
of presenting his case at length before that gentleman. But true to his
special habits, he looked at neither of us, but rather at the fretted
basket, upon the handle of which he tapped out his arguments as he
quickly proceeded:

"The young couple spent the first months of their married life in
Yonkers; so to Yonkers I went next. There I learned that Franklin had
visited the place twice; both times, as I judge, upon a peremptory
summons from her. The result was mutual fret and heartburning, for she
had made no progress in her endeavors to win recognition from the Van
Burnams; and even had had occasion to perceive that her husband's love,
based as it was upon her physical attributes, had begun to feel the
stress of her uneasiness and dissatisfaction. She became more anxious
than ever for social recognition and distinction, and when the family
went to Europe, consented to accompany her husband into the quiet
retreat he thought best calculated to win the approbation of his father,
only upon the assurance of better times in the fall and a possible visit
to Washington in the winter. But the quiet to which she was subjected
had a bad effect upon her. Under it she grew more and more restless, and
as the time approached for the family's return, conceived so many plans
for conciliating them that her husband could not restrain his disgust.
But the worst plan of all and the one which undoubtedly led to her
death, he never knew. This was to surprise Franklin at his office and,
by renewed threats of showing this old love-letter to his brother, win
an absolute promise from him to support her in a fresh endeavor to win
his father's favor. You see she did not understand Silas Van Burnam's
real character, and persisted in holding the most extravagant views
concerning Franklin's ascendancy over him as well as over the rest of
the family. She even went so far as to insist in the interview, which
Jane Pigot overheard, that it was Franklin himself who stood in the way
of her desires, and that if he chose he could obtain for her an
invitation to take up her abode with the rest of them in Gramercy Park.
To Duane Street she therefore went before making her appearance at Mrs.
Parker's; a fact which was not brought out at the inquest; Franklin not
disclosing it of course, and the clerk not recognizing her under the
false name she chose to give. Of the details of this interview I am
ignorant, but as she was closeted with him some time, it is only natural
to suppose that conversation of some importance took place between them.
The clerk who works in the outer office did not, as I have said, know
who she was at the time, but he noticed her face when she came out, and
he declares that it was insolent with triumph, while Mr. Franklin, who
was polite enough or calculating enough to bow her out of the room, was
pale with rage, and acted so unlike himself that everybody observed it.
She held his letter in her hand, a letter easily distinguishable by the
violet-colored seal on the back, and she filliped with it in a most
aggravating way as she crossed the floor, pretending to lay it down on
Howard's desk as she went by and then taking it up again with an arch
look at Franklin, pretty enough to see but hateful in its effect on him.
As he went back to his own room his face was full of anger, and such was
the effect of this visit on him that he declined to see any one else
that day. She had probably shown such determination to reveal his past
perfidy to her husband, that his fears were fully aroused at last, and
he saw he was not only likely to lose his good name but the esteem with
which he was accustomed to be regarded by this younger and evidently
much-loved brother.