The Luminous Face

He found Manning Pollard in his rooms at the little hotel, and was greeted with courtesy, though with no great cordiality.

“Come in, Mr Belknap,” Pollard said, “I can give you a short interview, but I’ve a piece of important work on hand.”

“I’ll stay only a few minutes,” the other said, ingratiatingly, “but I’d like your help. I know all about that remark of yours concerning your dislike of Mr Gleason. That’s past history – though I may say it will become famous.”

“But why?” broke in Pollard, frowning a little. “You must admit there are lots of people who feel like that – ”

“I know, but they don’t put it into words. Just as there are lots of people who would steal if they were sure they’d not be caught. But they don’t, as a rule, advertise this.”

“All right, go ahead. You don’t suspect me of the murder?”

Pollard’s frank glance seemed to compel an honest reply, and Belknap said, “I don’t – but only because it has been proved that it was impossible for you to have been in the vicinity of Gleason’s place at that time.”

“You couldn’t have much more positive proof, I suppose,” and Pollard smiled. “All right, then, what can I do for you?”

“Tell me whom you suspect.” Belknap shot out the words, in an effort to catch Pollard off his guard, for it was the attorney’s belief that the clubman knew more of the matter than he had told.

“You give me a difficult question, Mr Belknap,” Pollard said, in a serious tone. “I daresay everybody has vague suspicions floating through his brain, but to put them in words is – well, might it not start inquiry in a wrong direction and do ultimate harm?”

“It might, if spoken to the public, but to the investigators of the case, I think it is your duty to tell all you know.”

“Oh, I don’t know anything. Not anything. I assure you. But if I were to express an opinion or make a surmise, I should say look for some incident in Mr Gleason’s private life. I know enough of his character and temperament to feel sure that he had friends among people outside the social pale, and it seems to me there’s the direction in which to look. It’s really no secret that Mr Gleason entertained the sort of young ladies who are usually classed under the general title of ‘chorus girls’ whether they are in the chorus or not. Look that way, I imagine, and you will, at least, find food for thought.”

“You don’t know of any particular girl in whom he was interested?”

Pollard stared at him. “I do not. I knew Mr Gleason but slightly. I know nothing of his private affairs, and, as I told you, even the surmise I made is based merely on the man’s general characteristics. I have heard him refer to the girls I spoke of, but only in general conversation, and seldom at that. Please understand, I was not only no friend of Robert Gleason, but scarcely an acquaintance. I never met him more than three or four times.”

“Yet you took a positive dislike to him.”

“I did. I frequently take dislikes at first sight. Or, I am attracted at first sight. Mine is not a unique nature, Mr Belknap. Many people like or dislike a stranger at first meeting.”

“But they don’t threaten to kill them.”

Pollard reached the end of his patience. “Mr Belknap,” he said, “I’m tired of having that remark of mine quoted at me. If it had not chanced that Gleason was killed yesterday, that speech would never have been remembered. I do not deny the remark; I do not deny that it was spoken in earnest. But I do deny that I killed Robert Gleason. Now, if you still suspect me, go to work and bring the crime home to me, if not, let up on your insinuations!”

“All right, I will. I don’t believe for a minute that you had a hand in it – but I hoped you knew something more definite than you’ve told me. And, maybe you do. If for instance, you had suspicion of any friend of yours, or an acquaintance, you would, doubtless, try to throw me off the track, and point my attention to Mr Gleason’s little lady friends.”

Pollard looked at his visitor with fresh interest. “You’re cleverer than I thought,” he said, frankly. “I don’t mind telling you that if I did suspect a friend, the first thing I should do, would be to try to throw the police off his track.”

“Have you no sense of justice – or duty to the state?”

“Quite as much as most people, only I don’t pretend to more than I have – as most people do. Nine men out of ten would protect a friend, only they wouldn’t be so open-mouthed about it.”

“That’s so; and in a way I’m glad you are so frank. Now, if I come to suspect any friend of yours, I shall return to you and get some information – from the things you don’t say!”

“Good for you, Mr Belknap. I like your shrewdness. And, truly, if the time comes when I can help, without running a friend’s head into the noose, I’ll do it.”

“And now, I’m going up to the Lindsay house.”

“I believe I’ll go with you. I may be of some help to them.”

“I thought you were so terribly busy!”

Pollard smiled. “I am. But, my business is a movable feast. I’m a writer, you know.”

“Yes, I know your two books.”

“And I’m just getting out another. I write essays for the magazines, and when I get enough, I bunch ’em up and call it a book.”

“And the reviewers call it a good book,” Belknap complimented.

“Some of them do. But, I’m my own master – if I neglect my work it hurts no one but myself, and nothing but my own bank account. And so, I’ll give up doing a bit of writing I planned for this morning, and go up to the Lindsays’ with you. If I can do anything for them, in any way, I’ll be glad.”

The Lindsay apartment wore the air common to homes where death has entered, yet not to one of the actual household. The shades were partly drawn and a few shaded lamps were lighted. A silent maid admitted the callers and they were shown into the living room where a group of people sat.

The three Lindsays were there, also Doctor Davenport, who had been prescribing for Mrs Lindsay.

“You’re all right,” he was telling her, “just keep quiet and – ”

“But, Doctor,” her shrill voice responded, “how can I keep quiet, when I’m so excited? My nerves are on edge – I’m frightened – I can’t sleep or eat or rest – ”

“The medicine I prescribed will help all that; now, just obey my orders and do the best you can to keep cool and calm.”

“Let me help you,” and Manning Pollard took the seat next Millicent; “sometimes the mere presence of an unexcitable person helps frazzled nerves.”

“You’re surely that,” and Mrs Lindsay smiled a welcome. “I never saw any one less excitable than you are. Do help to calm me.”

She laid her hand in Pollard’s and sank back in her chair, already quieted by his silent sympathy.

“Wait a minute, Doctor,” Belknap said, as Davenport was about to leave. “I’m asking a few questions, and I want you to tell me as to those two shots that killed Mr Gleason. You don’t mind being present, Mrs Lindsay?”

“Indeed, no. I want to be. I want to know every bit of evidence, every clew to the murderer of my brother! I am not excited over the investigation, I only get nervous when I think you will not avenge the crime!”

“We’re trying our best,” returned Belknap. “What is your theory, Doctor Davenport?”

“I haven’t any,” and the doctor looked slightly embarrassed.

“Well,” Belknap thought to himself, “all these people act queer! Are they all shielding the same person? Is it the precious son of the house?”

“I don’t believe in laymen having theories,” Davenport went on. “Those are for the police to form and then to prove.” He spoke shortly, but in an even time, as one who was sure of what he wanted to say.

“All right,” agreed Belknap, “and to form and prove our theories, we must get all the evidence we can. Now, Doctor, as to those shots.”

The doctor became all the professional man again. “There’s no doubt as to the facts,” he replied, straightforwardly; “the fatal shot was most certainly fired first, and the shot in the shoulder some minutes later – after the man had been dead at least several minutes.”

“How do you, then, explain Mr Gleason’s ability to telephone a message that he was shot?”

“I don’t explain it – nor can I conceive of any explanation. It’s the strangest thing I ever heard of!”