The Mystery at Dark Cedars

“Why?”

“The reason she gives is that she firmly believes some member of her own family to be guilty and wants to avoid scandal. But I think there’s another – a deeper reason.”

“And what do you think that is, Mary Lou?”

“A desire to keep her possession of a ruby necklace a secret. She kept it hidden in the mattress of her bed and never mentioned it to anybody except one trusted nephew.”

Mr. Gay wrinkled his brows. “I guess you had better tell me the facts in order, dear.”

Mary Louise settled herself more comfortably in the hammock, and told her story, just as everything had happened. When she finally came to the description of the robbery the previous night, and of her own shameful treatment at the hands of the thief, her father cried out in resentment.

“Don’t tell Mother about my being bound up and put in the closet,” she begged. “It would worry her sick.”

“It worries me sick!” announced Mr. Gay. “And I don’t want you to spend another night at that dreadful place… In fact, I forbid it!”

Mary Louise nodded: she had been expecting the command.

“Then may I bring Elsie Grant home with me while her aunt is in the hospital?” she asked.

“Yes, I suppose so – if your mother is willing.” But his consent was rather reluctant; Mary Louise sensed his distrust of the orphan.

“Daddy, do you think Elsie is guilty?” she asked immediately.

“I don’t know what to think. You believe that your intruder was a woman, don’t you? Then, if it was a woman in Miss Grant’s family, how many possible suspects have you?”

Mary Louise checked them off on her fingers. “Old Mrs. Grant, Mrs. Pearson, Corinne Pearson – and Elsie.”

“Which are most likely to have heard about the necklace? Old Mrs. Grant and Elsie, I should say, offhand.”

“Yes,” agreed his daughter. “And I’m sure Mrs. Grace Grant wouldn’t steal. Besides, she’s too old to get down a ladder.”

“Hold on a minute!” cautioned her father. “You’re not sure that your thief got away in that manner. Suppose, as you are inclined to believe, she was at Dark Cedars when you arrived last night, and suppose she did hide in the closet until she thought you were asleep. When she finished her job, why couldn’t she have walked down the stairs and out the door – it must unlock from the inside – while you were still locked in the closet?”

“That’s true. But wouldn’t Elsie have heard her?”

“Probably. But, then, she’d have been likely to hear anybody getting out of a window… Yes, I think suspicion points to the young girl, with one possible exception.”

“You mean Corinne Pearson?”

“No, I don’t. I think the very fact that she wore a red necklace to the dance practically proves her innocence. If she even knew her aunt owned a ruby necklace, she wouldn’t have done that, after she was caught in another theft.”

Mary Louise sighed: she felt as if her visit to Miss Tracey had been wasted time, and she said as much to her father. But he reassured her with the statement that real detectives make many such visits, which may seem to lead to nothing, but which all have their part in leading to the capture of the criminal.

“Then whom else do you suspect, Daddy?” she asked.

“The most obvious person of all. The person who had every reason to believe that there was something valuable hidden in Miss Grant’s bed from the way the old lady guarded it. The person who made up all the stories about ghosts to throw you girls off the track. I mean Hannah, of course.”

“Hannah!” repeated Mary Louise in amazement. She had never thought of her as guilty since her interview with her that very first day.

“You may be right, Daddy. But if she was going to steal, why did she do it at night, when we were there? She had plenty of chance all day alone at Dark Cedars – except for William, her husband.”

“Yes, but then you would immediately suspect her or William. This threw you off the track.”

Mary Louise pondered the matter seriously.

“I still can’t believe that, Daddy. Knowing Hannah as I do, I would stake my word on the fact that both she and old Mrs. Grant are absolutely honest.”

“Well, it may not have been a member of the family at all,” observed Mr. Gay. “Maybe it was an outsider, someone who had heard a rumor about the necklace and visited the house systematically at night, searching for it. That would account for those strange noises and the disturbances. It might even have been the person who owned the necklace in the first place, who would know, of course, that it was still at Dark Cedars. There is only one thing to do that I can see, and that is to notify the pawnshops and jewelers all over the country.”

“But that would take forever,” protested Mary Louise. “And besides, we couldn’t mention Miss Grant’s name without her permission.”

Mr. Gay smiled; there was a great deal for Mary Louise to learn about the detective business.

“It wouldn’t take any time at all,” he said. “The police have a list of all such places and a method of communication. And Miss Grant’s name need not be mentioned – my name is sufficient. But I wish we could get a more accurate description of the necklace.”

“I wish we could. I’ll try to see Miss Grant again tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t make so much difference, however,” her father told her. “If the rubies are real, they can easily be detected. It isn’t likely that many ruby necklaces are being pawned at the same time.”

“Will you do this for me, Daddy?” asked Mary Louise, rising from the hammock and opening the screen door. “I just want to say ‘hello’ to Mother, and then I must be on my way. I’m due back at Dark Cedars at two o’clock.”

Mr. Gay frowned.

“Must you go, dear? I don’t forbid it, in broad daylight, but I don’t like it.”

“Yes, I must get my suitcase, Daddy. And bring Elsie back, if she wants to come.”

“All right, Mary Lou. I’ll drive you over, if our dinner isn’t ready. And I’ll come back for you about five o’clock, so that I’m sure of getting you home here safely before dark.”

It was a simple matter for Mary Louise to gain her mother’s consent to bring Elsie Grant home with her. Believing the girl to be just a poor downtrodden orphan, Mrs. Gay adopted a motherly, sympathetic attitude, totally unaware that both Jane Patterson and Mr. Gay suspected the girl of the crime. She was delighted that her daughter had decided to leave Dark Cedars.

“It’s bad enough to have your father away on dangerous work, without having to worry about you too, Mary Louise,” she said as she kissed her daughter good-bye. “Be back in time for supper.”

“I will,” promised the girl. “Daddy is going to drive me over and come back for me.”

During the short ride in her father’s car the theft was not mentioned. If possible, Mary Louise wanted to forget it for the time being. She hated to go to Dark Cedars and eat Hannah’s dinner as Elsie’s guest and all the while suspect one or the other of them of a horrible crime.

Mr. Gay left Mary Louise at the hedge, and she ran up the path lightly, just like an ordinary girl visiting one of her chums for a Sunday dinner. But Elsie did not come out to meet her, and she had to knock on the door to gain admittance.

In a minute or two Hannah answered it.

“Hello!” she said. “Ain’t Elsie with you?”

Mary Louise shook her head.

“No. She said she’d stay and help you,” she replied. “Didn’t she tell you about what happened last night?”

“No!” Hannah’s eyes opened wide. “Was the spirits here again?”