The Curved Blades

After passing several large and handsome estates, they came to a district of less elaborate homes, and after that to a section of decidedly poorer residences. At one of these, Stone stared hard, but not till they were well past it, did he inquire who lived there.

“Dunno,” replied Hardy; “it’s a sort of boarding-house, I think, for the lower classes.”

“Is it?” said Stone, and they went on.

At the sanatorium they found Estelle. She was not hysterical now, but was in a sort of apathetic mood, and listless of manner.

Stone spoke to her with polite address, and a manner distinctly reassuring.

“It will be much better for you, Estelle,” he said, pleasantly, “if you will speak the truth. Better for you, and better for – you know whom.”

His significant tone roused her, “I don’t know who you mean,” she exclaimed.

“Oh, yes, you do! somebody whose name begins with H, or B, or S.”

“I don’t know any one beginning with S,” and Estelle frowned defiantly.

“But some one with – ” Stone leaned forward, and in the tense pause that followed, Estelle’s lips half formed a silent ‘B’.

“Yes,” went on Stone, as if he had not paused. “If you will tell the whole truth, it will be better for Bates in the long run.”

Estelle began to tremble. “What do you know?” she cried out, and showed signs of hysteria.

“I know a great deal,” said Stone, gravely, “and, unless assisted by what you know, my knowledge will bring trouble to your friend.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” and Estelle, now on her guard, spoke slowly and clearly, but her fingers were nervously twining themselves in and out of her crumpled handkerchief.

“Only your own individual part in the proceedings. The rest we will learn from Bates himself.”

“How do you know it was Bates?”

“We have learned much since you left Garden Steps,” and now Stone spoke a little more sternly. Hardy looked at him in wonder. Who was this Bates, clearly implicated in the murder, and known to Estelle?

“You see, Mr. Haviland saw you go down to open the window for him to come in,” Stone went on, as casually as if he were retailing innocent gossip. “Did you go down again and close it?”

“I haven’t said I opened it yet,” and Estelle flashed an irate glance at her questioner.

“No, but you will do so when you realize how necessary it is. I tell you truly, when I say that only your honesty now can save your friend Bates from the electric chair.”

Estelle shuddered and began to cry violently.

“That only makes matters worse,” said Stone patiently. “Listen to me. This is your only chance to save Bates’ life. If I go to the police with what I know, they will convict him of the murder beyond all doubt. If you tell me what I ask, – I think, I hope, between us, we can prove that he did not do it.”

“But didn’t he?” and Estelle looked up with hope dawning in her eyes.

“I think not. Now there’s no time to waste. Tell me what I ask or you will lose your chance to do so. You opened the living-room window for Bates to come in, at about three o’clock?”

“Yes,” admitted the girl.

“And went down and closed and fastened it at – ”

“Five o’clock,” came in lowest tones.

“Not knowing that Miss Carrington was dead?”

“Oh, No!”

“For Bates went there only to steal the jewels?”

“Yes.”

“And so, when you took the breakfast tray, and found the lady – as you did find her – you were frightened out of your wits, and dropped the tray?”

“Yes.”

“And so, to shield Bates, who you thought had killed her, you lied right and left, even trying to incriminate Miss Stuart?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you seen Bates since?”

“No, sir.”

“And until now you have thought he killed your mistress?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Another thing, Estelle; you put bromide in the glass of milk in order that Miss Carrington might sleep soundly, and not hear Bates come in?”

“She didn’t drink that milk!”

“But you fixed it, thinking she would?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all. Come on, Hardy.” and somewhat unceremoniously, Stone took leave, and made for the nearest telephone station.

After that, matters whizzed. Stone had called the Police Headquarters and asked that an officer be sent with a warrant for the arrest of Bates.

“How do you know where he is?” asked Hardy, nearly bursting with curiosity.

“I’m not sure, but at least I know where to start looking for him,” Stone replied, as the two went back the way they had come.

Stone stopped at the boarding-house he had noticed on the way to the sanatorium, and rang the bell.

Sure enough, Bates lived there and Bates was at home.

At Stone’s first questions he broke down and confessed to the assault with the black-jack.