The Curved Blades

“Well, auburn, then,” said Haviland, easily. “You may as well own up, Estelle; what did you go down for?”

“I didn’t go,” repeated the maid, obstinately, and no cross-questioning could prevail on her to admit otherwise.

“All right,” and Haviland shrugged his shoulders; “I suppose it doesn’t matter, as the crime was committed about one o’clock. It’s up to you, Mr. Coroner, to find some person who acted suspiciously nearer that time. And, by the way, as man of business of this estate, unless some worthwhile evidence is forthcoming pretty soon, I’m going to round up a detective or two who will get somewhere.”

“Give us a little more time, Mr. Haviland,” said Scofield, suavely, “this inquest is only begun.”

“Well, get it over with, and then, if the truth hasn’t come to light, I’ll take a hand.”

Miss Frayne was called next, and Anita, with a look of importance on her pretty face, came forward.

Her evidence, at first, was merely a repetition of that already heard, and she corroborated Pauline’s recital of the scene as the two girls bade Miss Carrington good-night.

“And then?” prompted the Coroner.

“Then I went to my room, but I didn’t retire. I sat thinking over what Miss Carrington had said to me. And as I thought about it, I concluded that this time I was really dismissed from her secretaryship. And that made me feel very sorry, for it is a good position and I’ve no wish to lose it. So, – after a time, I began to think I would go to Miss Carrington’s room and if she were still up, I would beg her forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness for what?”

“For any fancied grievance she might have against me. I have always tried to please her, but she was, er, – difficult, and it was not easy to do the right thing at all times.”

“Did you go to her room?”

“I went to the door – ”

“At what time?”

“Soon after one o’clock. Not more than five or ten minutes after.”

There was a rustle of excitement. The poison was said to be administered at about one! Did this fair doll-like girl know the secret of the tragedy?

“Proceed, Miss Frayne; tell the story of anything you saw at that time.”

“I saw nothing. But I heard a great deal.”

“What was it?”

“The door of Miss Carrington’s room was closed, and I was about to tap at it, when I heard talking inside. I paused, and I listened, in order to discover if her maid was still with her, or some one else. If it had been Estelle, I should have tapped for admittance. But it was not.”

“Who was it?”

“I cannot say. The voice I heard distinctly was that of Miss Carrington herself. Her voice was high-pitched, and of what is called a carrying sort. The things she said were so strange, I lingered, listening, for I was so surprised I couldn’t help it.”

“First, I heard her say, quite plainly, ‘Your face is the most beautiful I have ever seen! I wish mine were as beautiful.’ I assumed, then, she must be talking to Miss Stuart, for surely she would not say that to her maid. Then she said, ‘But, to-morrow, I shall be forever freed from this homely face of mine.’”

“Miss Frayne, this is very singular! Are you sure you heard correctly?”

“I am sure. But there is more. She next said, ‘To-morrow you will be glad! —glad!’ It was almost a scream, that. And she went on, ‘To-morrow all these jewels will be yours, – if you – ah, but will you?’ and then her voice trailed off faintly, and I could hear no more.”

“You heard nothing more at all?”

“Yes; I waited, – oh, I admit I was eavesdropping, but it was so strange I couldn’t help it, – there was silence. It may well be some one else was replying to her, but I could not make out any other person’s words. A low voice would not be audible like a high-pitched one. But after a moment, Miss Carrington resumed; she said, ‘I shall change my will. Not Carr’s half, that must stand. But the other half shall never go to a niece who has no affection for me!’ Again I heard nothing, for the responses were inaudible. Then Miss Carrington said, in a musing tone: ‘I have already willed you ten thousand dollars of those United States bonds, but – ’ And then, after quite a long pause, Miss Carrington cried out, not loudly, but tensely, ‘Henri, Henri! you are the mark I aim at!’ That frightened me so, I ran swiftly back to my room, and locked the door.”

“You assumed Henri to be Count Charlier?”

“I had no other construction to put upon the words.”

“You thought the gentleman was in Miss Carrington’s room?”

“I couldn’t think that! And yet, it sounded as if she were speaking to him, not of him.”

“This is a very strange story, Miss Frayne. Have you mentioned these things you overheard to any one before this?”

“No. I have thought them over, and concluded it was best to tell the story first to you.”

“And quite right. It is, then, your opinion that there was another person in Miss Carrington’s room, to whom she was speaking?”

“It seemed so to me.”

“But you did not hear this other person’s voice?”

Anita paused a moment and then said: “Not distinctly.”

“Did you hear it at all?”

“I cannot say. When I did not hear Miss Carrington’s voice clearly, there were sounds that might have been another person or her own voice speaking more inaudibly.”

“Might it not be that she was merely talking to herself, – soliloquizing?”

“It could not have been that. She spoke definitely and decidedly to some one when she said ‘Your face is beautiful,’ and when she said, ‘I have willed you ten thousand dollars,’ indeed, every thing she said was as if spoken to some hearer; not as one who talks to herself.”

“After you regained your room, did you leave it again?”

“No, I did not.”

“H’m. Now, are you positive, Miss Frayne, that all these speeches were said just as you have repeated them? It is a great strain on the memory to repeat accurately a conversation as long as the one you have just rehearsed.”

“The speeches I heard are burned into my brain. I could not forget them if I would. I may have erred in some minor or unimportant words, but the most of what I heard is precisely as I have repeated it. Indeed, so thoroughly was I amazed at it all, I wrote it down as soon as I reached my room. I had then no thought of – of what was going to happen, but Miss Carrington had made peculiar remarks during the evening about something happening to her, and in connection with that the words I heard seemed so remarkable, – not to say uncanny, – that I made a note of them. This is not an unusual habit with me. I often make notes of conversations, as it has been useful in my services as secretary.”

“As how?”

“If a caller in a social or business way had conversation with Miss Carrington, and I was present, I often made a record, in case she asked me later just what had been said.”

“I see. And how do you interpret the words, ‘Henri, you are the mark I aim at?’”

“I can only think that Miss Carrington was in favor of considering a marriage between herself and the Count.”

“You made use of the word ‘uncanny.’ Do you imagine that Miss Carrington had any foreboding of her approaching doom?”