The Mystery of the Sycamore

None of her family was allowed to be present, and the four men filed into the room with various expressions of face. The two detectives were stolid-looking, but eagerly determined to do their work, while Allen and Keefe were alertly interested in finding out some way to be of help to Mrs. Wheeler.

She received the men quietly, even graciously, sensing what they had come for.

“To start with, Mrs. Wheeler,” said Burdon, frankly but not unkindly, “who do you think killed Mr. Appleby?”

“Oh – I don’t know – I don’t know,” she wailed, losing her calm and becoming greatly agitated.

“Where were you when the shot was fired?” asked Hallen.

“I don’t know – I didn’t hear it – ”

“Then you were up in your own room?”

“I suppose so – I don’t know.”

“You were up there when the fire broke out?”

“Yes – I think I was – ”

“But you must know, Mrs. Wheeler – that is, you must know where you were when you first heard of the fire – ”

“Yes, yes; I was up in my bedroom.”

“And who told you of the fire?”

“My maid – Rachel.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I – I – I don’t remember.”

“You ran downstairs, didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember – ”

“Yes, you did!” Burdon took up the reins. “You ran downstairs, and just as you got down to the den you saw – you saw your husband shoot Mr. Appleby!”

His harsh manner, as he intended, frightened the nervous woman, and reduced her to the verge of collapse.

But after a gasping moment, she recovered herself, and cried out: “I did not! I shot Mr. Appleby myself. That’s why I’m so agitated.”

“I knew it!” exclaimed Burdon. “Mr. Wheeler’s confession was merely to save his wife. Now, Mrs. Wheeler, I believe your story, and I want all the particulars. First, why did you kill him?”

“Be – because he was my husband’s enemy – and I had stood it as long as I could.”

“H’m. And what did you do with the weapon you used?”

“I threw it out of the window.”

“And it dropped on the lawn?”

“Not dropped; I threw it far out – as far as I could.”

“Oh, I see. Out of which window?”

“Why – why, the one in the den – the bay window.”

“But your daughter – Miss Maida – was sitting in the bay window.”

“No, she was not,” Mrs. Wheeler spoke emphatically now. “She was not in the room at all. She had gone to the fire.”

“Oh, is that so? And then – what happened next?”

“Why – nothing. I – I ran upstairs again.”

“Appalled at what you had done?”

“Not appalled – so much as – as – ”

“Unnerved?”

“Yes; unnerved. I fell on my bed, and Rachel looked after me.”

“Ah, yes; we will interview Rachel, and so save you further harrowing details. Come on, men, let’s strike while these irons are hot.”

The four filed from the room, and Burdon spoke in a low tone, but excitedly:

“Come quickly! There goes Miss Maida across the lawn. We will take her next. The maid, Rachel, can wait.”

Inwardly rebelling, but urged on by the others, Jeff Allen went along, and as Burdon stopped Maida, on her quick walk across the lawn, Jeff put his arm through that of the girl, and said: “Do as they tell you, dear. It’s best to have this matter settled at once.”

Again the party grouped themselves under the old sycamore, and this time Maida was the target for their queries.

“Tell me all you know of the case,” she said, peremptorily; “then I’ll tell you what I know.”

“We know that the murder was committed by one of you three Wheelers,” said Burdon, brutally. “Now, both your parents have confessed to being the criminal – ”

“What?” Maida cried, her face white and her eyes big and frightened.

“Yes, ma’am, just that! Now, what have you to say? Are you going to confess also?”

“Of course I am! For I am the real criminal! Can’t you see that my father and mother are both trying to shield me? I did it, because of that awful man’s hold on my father! Take my confession, and do with me what you will!”

“Here’s a state of things!” cried Burdon, truly surprised at this new development.

“The girl is telling the truth,” exclaimed Curtis Keefe, not because he really thought so but his quick mind told him that it would be easier to get a young girl acquitted than an older person, and he saw the plausibility of the detectives’ theory that it must have been one of the three Wheelers.

“All right,” Burdon went on, “then, Miss Wheeler, enlighten us as to details. Where’s the weapon?”