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In two minutes she had Inspector Rumsey on the wire, and within a quarter of an hour, the three doctors appointed by the police department had been admitted to the house by a rear door. They were all men of discretion, and in order to guard against possible leakages, they had volunteered to conduct the autopsy entirely by themselves without the usual a.s.sistants. The body of Mr. Varick was still lying in his bedroom, and there they operated. No one else was permitted in the room. The servants, I think, must have suspected what was going on, but they were wonderfully loyal. No whisper of it was ever revealed.
During the dreadful period of suspense that followed, Mme. Storey and I remained in the boudoir with Mrs. Varick and Miss Gilsey. My employer having explained who I was, Mrs. Varick no longer resented my presence. She lit one cigarette after another in her trembling hands, and tossed them away after a puff or two. I do not remember that a single word was exchanged. I spent the time looking at Miss Gilsey who was very beautiful, and who seemed to be of a gentle and open nature; but she was like one who had received a blow on the head, not quite all there. I wondered at it.
At length Dr. Pulford the senior of the three physicians, came in. His face was like a mask, revealing nothing. He said in measured tones: "I regret to have to inform you that Commodore Varick met his death as a result of having taken poison through the mouth. It was one of the alkaloids, probably aconite, which is the most powerful of the alkaloids, but it will require an a.n.a.lysis to determine that for certain."
With a sigh like an infant, Mrs. Varick fell over sideways into the arms of her secretary. The girl's face was like death.
III.
Dr. Pulford brought Mrs. Varick around by simple measures. The poor woman then went off into a helpless, shaken weeping, very affecting to see. But notwithstanding her high position, her air of authority, she was a shallow woman. Her husband's untimely end did not distress her so much as the threatened family disgrace. The girl, Estelle Gilsey, who never made a sound, took it much harder, really; but I couldn't tell what was the nature of her feeling, whether grief, horror, fear or guilt.
Mrs. Varick's whole cry was to keep it out of the newspapers. "Rosika, I depend on you for that," she wept, fondling my employer's hand.
"My own idea would be to keep it secret as long as possible," said Mme. Storey dryly, "simply in order that the guilty person might not escape. However, the police must decide."
"The police!" cried Mrs. Varick. "Oh, keep them out of the house! That would kill me! Rosika, you take charge of everything. I engage you for that purpose. Money, you know, is no object."
"But I could not accept an engagement on such terms," said Mme. Storey. "My object would be the same as that of the police, to discover the truth."
"Of course! Of course!" cried the weeping woman. "But you do it. They ought to let you do it. You are far cleverer. Keep the police out of the house!"
"Inspector Rumsey must decide that," said my employer. "... There is one thing that I would recommend," she added. "Under the circ.u.mstances a public funeral would scarcely be permitted. Let all the arrangements be cancelled, and let it be given out that Commodore Varick is to be buried privately at the convenience of the family."
"Even that would create a scandal!" cried Mrs. Varick.
"But not so great a scandal as the other," remarked Mme. Storey dryly.
"Have the orders given!" cried the distraught widow.
When Dr. Pulford took his leave, Mme. Storey signed to me to detain him outside the room. There she presently joined us.
"Can you add anything to what you have told us?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Not much at this time. Commodore Varick died as the result of having taken a powerful dose of a poison, probably aconite."
"A very large dose?"
"Yes, Madam, it must have killed him almost instantly. Well, in half an hour perhaps; in an hour at the outside."
"Putting aside the possibility of suicide for the moment, how could he have been induced to take it?"
Dr. Pulford shrugged and spread out his hands. "How can one say? It is true that aconite, like all the alkaloids, has an intensely bitter taste, but on the other hand, an infinitesimal quant.i.ty would be sufficient. As small a quant.i.ty as one three-hundredth of a grain is enough to set up symptoms. How much Commodore Varick got I cannot say; half a grain, maybe."
"Could it have been administered in tea or coffee?"
"It is possible."
"Could the symptoms have been mistaken for those of gastritis?"
"Evidently they were," returned Dr. Pulford dryly. "Was there only one physician present when he died?"
"Only Dr. Slingluff, the family physician."
"A very distinguished man," said Dr. Pulford prudently. "It seems a little strange, but I should not like to commit myself."
"Is there any antidote for aconite poisoning?" asked Mme. Storey.
"Atropine," he answered promptly.
"Could aconite in so highly concentrated a form be readily procured?" was her next question.
"It is in the pharmacopoeia," he said. "Aconitina is the terra applied to the alkaloid. Therapeutically it is little used nowadays; it would be difficult to obtain, but possible."
"One last question, doctor. In poisoning cases of this sort, does the victim retain consciousness until the end, or near the end?"
"It is usual," he said gravely.
"Thank you very much."
He went away. We had no sooner returned to the boudoir than a footman entered to announce that Dr. Slingluff was in the house and wished to know if Mrs. Varick desired to see him. Mme. Storey and I exchanged a glance. Coming at this moment, it seemed almost as if the family doctor had received some intimation through the air of what was going on. At Mme. Storey's suggestion Mrs. Varick retired to her bedroom, and we waited in the boudoir for Dr. Slingluff. It was curious to see how completely my employer had a.s.sumed command in the great house. From Mrs. Varick down, all yielded her implicit obedience. At such moments Mme. Storey is very impressive. Her beautiful face becomes as cold and grave as a sybil's. Only the glowing dark eyes reveal the forces within.
Dr. Slingluff was in the forefront of his profession. Having started many years before as a general pract.i.tioner, he had gradually won to a commanding position as a heart specialist. It was only for the Varicks and a few other old family friends that he still acted as a general consultant. He was a handsome, dignified man about sixty, with an open face, a man you would like ordinarily; but I noticed that he changed colour at the mention of my employer's name; in fact, I saw a fine sweat spring out on his forehead, and that hardened my heart against him.
Mme. Storey went to the point as directly as an arrow.
"I am Rosika Storey," she said. "Mrs. Varick has asked me to see you. It has been discovered that Commodore Varick met his death by poison. For the moment, I am acting for the police."
At the word "poison" the doctor went staggering back, and his face became ghastly. But he was not surprised. "Oh, my G.o.d!" he gasped. "Who told them?"
This answer clearly revealed guilty knowledge, but for the moment Mme. Storey affected not to notice it.
"I am not at liberty to divulge that," she said.
He made a desperate effort to recover himself. "Poison!" he said, straightening up; "this is preposterous!"
"It was revealed by an autopsy."
He was freshly shaken. "An autopsy!" he stammered. "Without my knowledge."
"By order of the police," said Mme. Storey.
Some moments pa.s.sed before he could give a coherent account of the death-bed scene. "At a few minutes before five yesterday," he finally began, "I was called to the telephone by William Gabbitt, the Commodore's valet. Gabbitt told me that his master was very sick; that he had found him lying helpless on the floor of his bedroom; that it seemed to be a gastric attack such as he had had before, only worse. So I hastily gathered a few things together, digitalis..."
"Digitalis?" she interrupted, "what was that for?"
"Heart," he said, "that was the danger. I instructed my secretary to telephone for Orrin, the stomach specialist, and I ran here--I live just around the corner. I was here within five minutes of receiving the call, but I instantly saw that my old friend was done for; he was already at the point of collapse."
"Who was with him?"
"Gabbitt, and Jarboe, the butler. I sent for Mrs. Varick, but she was out of the house. I wouldn't allow anybody else in the room. I did all the things that one does, but it was too late. I sent Gabbitt running to my office for atropine, and Jarboe to the pantry for an ice-pack. Before either of them got back the Commodore was dead."
"Atropine?" said Mme. Storey, softly, "is that a gastric remedy?"
"I wanted it to accelerate the beating of his heart."
"Why didn't you bring it with you?"
"One can't foresee everything."
"Then you were alone with him when he died?"
"Yes."
"Why did you send Jarboe out of the room? There were plenty of footmen."
"To tell you the truth, I couldn't bear to have a servant see my friend in such an extremity."
"Was he conscious?"
"I cannot say for certain. He was incapable of speaking."
"Then he said nothing to you before he died?"
"Not a word, Madame."
"H'm!" said Mme. Storey. I knew the same thought was in her mind as in my own; that it was very painful to see a naturally decent and upright man struggling to tell a convincing lie. I wondered what had taken place in that death chamber.
"Was it not rather unwise to have no other witness to his death?" asked Mme. Storey.
Dr. Slingluff drew himself up. "Well, I did not expect anybody to accuse me of having poisoned my friend," he said with dignity.
"n.o.body has," said Mme. Storey mildly. "Had you no doubts as to the cause of death when you signed the certificate?"
"I would not have signed it if I had had. Doctor Orrin joined with me in signing it when he came."
"Did he suggest an autopsy?"
"No, he was quite satisfied with my explanation. Every one of us makes mistakes."
"This one is likely to have important results for you, doctor," said my employer mildly.
"Ruinous!" he cried in despair.
While she was still questioning him, we heard the sounds of a commotion out in the middle of the house, a new voice, young and ringing. At the sound of it, Dr. Slingluff turned paler still.
"Henry!" he gasped. "Oh, G.o.d! I can't face him now!"
With that he turned and fled through a door. It gave on some sort of service pa.s.sage. Presumably he knew his way about the house. Mme Storey and I looked at each other.
"Shouldn't he be stopped?" I said.
"He is not the sort of man who can escape," she said. "We can always find him."
"Was it he?" I stammered.
She slowly shook her head. "He wouldn't have sent for the antidote," she said.
"But he knows who did it!"
"So it would seem," she said with her most cryptic air.
A young man burst into the room, followed by several persons. I don't know who they were, servants of some sort, I a.s.sume. All these people moved surrounded by a mob of dependants of one sort and another. The young man turned around and waving his arms, cried: "Get out! Get out!" They melted silently through the door, and closed it.
I recognised the heir to the Varick millions, a handsome young giant with a mop of tawny hair, and eyes as blue as the sea. At the first sight of him something went out of me to him that I could not get back again. I soon learned that it was the same with everybody, man, woman or child, but especially women, of course. I could even see by the softened expression in Mme. Storey's eyes that she felt it, too. I cannot explain it; he was handsome and vigorous, but so is many another young man who leaves you cold. I do not care for young men, as a rule. This one had the combined attraction of a boy and a man, but that was not the whole of it. There was something you could not resist. If he had been a longsh.o.r.eman's son it would have been the same.
At the moment the tears were coursing down his cheeks. He was quite unashamed of his emotion. In fact, he was so distraught by emotion that he accepted the finding of two strangers in his mother's boudoir as a matter of course. He started speaking as if he had always known us.
"My father!" he cried, searching our faces for some hope. "Is it true? Is it true? Is he dead?"
"He is dead," said Mme. Storey.
"Oh, n.o.body will ever know what this means to me!" he cried, clapping his hands to his head. "Fathers always die, of course, but this is different!" He turned to us again with streaming eyes. "Because I was a bad son to him! a bad son! And now I can never make it up to him!"
His mother heard his voice and came running in from her bedroom, followed by her secretary. She precipitated herself into her son's arms. From his protective att.i.tude one might have supposed him to be the parent.
"Poor little mother!" he crooned. "Poor little mother! This is hard on you!"
But a strange thing happened. Over his mother's head he exchanged a look of the most poignant meaning with the girl behind her. Their very souls were in that glance, then both quickly lowered their eyes. Mme. Storey did not miss that swift look, of course. I knew it by her great carelessness of manner.
I could not bear to be present at so intimate a family scene, and I turned my back on it. But I could not avoid hearing what went on; the widow's self-pitying complaints, and her son's clumsy attempts to comfort her. There was something shocking in seeing the great Mrs. Varick go all to pieces. The exquisite and flower-like woman was sadly wilted now. So incoherent and disconnected was her speech that it gave no hint of the real situation beyond the fact that her husband had died with frightful suddenness. In the end the girl spoke, electrifying us all by saying, in a curiously breathless voice: "Henry, your father was poisoned. There has been an autopsy."
He dropped his mother, and stepped back. "Poisoned!" he said hoa.r.s.ely. "Poisoned! ... Then G.o.d help us all!"
Mme. Storey caught my arm and led me from the room. The others never noticed whether we were there or not. In the little foyer I resisted, thinking of my employer's duty in the case.
"It is terrible!" I said, "but should you not stay? Will not the truth come out?"
"Enough has come out for my present purpose," she said dryly.