The Vanishing of Betty Varian

“But, think, Zizi. Have we a right to divulge Frederick Varian’s secret? After he spent his life keeping it quiet, shall we be justified in blurting it out – ”

“Oh, Penny, that’s why Mr Varian and Betty were at odds! She wasn’t his child – ”

“She didn’t know that – ”

“No; but he did, and it made him irritable and impatient. Oh, don’t you see? He was everlastingly thinking that her traits were not Varian traits nor traits of her mother’s family, – and he couldn’t help thinking of the child’s real mother, – and oh, I can see how altogether he was upset over and over again when Betty would do or say something that he didn’t approve of.”

“Yes, that’s so, – but Zizi, here’s a more important revelation. The reason Frederick Varian was so opposed to Betty’s marrying was because he found himself in such an equivocal position! He couldn’t let her marry a decent man without telling him the story of her birth, – yet, he couldn’t tell it! He couldn’t tell the young man without telling his wife, – and to tell Mrs Varian, – at this late date, – oh, well, no wonder the poor father, – who was no father, – was nearly distracted. No wonder he was crusty and snappish at Betty, – yet of course the poor girl was in no way to blame!”

“Wouldn’t you think Mrs Varian would have suspected?”

“No; why should she? And, too, her husband took good care that she shouldn’t. It’s a truly marvelous situation!”

CHAPTER XVII

The Last Letter

When Wise and Zizi returned to Headland House, they found Doctor Varian there on one of his brief visits.

Deciding that it was the best course to pursue the detective took the physician entirely into his confidence. The two were closeted in the library, and Wise related his discoveries regarding the Vermont hospital.

“It is astounding! Incredible!” exclaimed Varian, “but if true, and it must be true, it explains a great many things. As a doctor, I can understand these things, and looking back, I see that Betty never had any traits of either parent. Not always are children like their parents but I’ve never seen a case where there was not some sign of heredity, some likeness to father or mother in looks or character.

“But Betty showed none such. She was a dear girl, and we all loved her, – but she was not in any way like Fred or Minna. To be sure, I never thought about this definitely, for I had no reason to think of such a thing as you’re telling me. But, recollecting Betty, for I’ve known her all her life, I can see where she is of a totally different stamp from my brother or his wife. My, what a case!”

“Do you blame Mr Varian?”

“Not a bit! He did it out of the kindest of motives. He was not only a devoted husband but a willing slave to his wife, even in cases where she was unreasonable or over-exacting. He petted and humored her in every imaginable way, and when the third baby was expected, the poor man was nearly frantic lest it should not live and Minna could not bear the disappointment. And so, when, as it seems by a mere chance he had an opportunity to provide her with a strong, healthy, beautiful child, – I, for one, am not surprised that he did so, nor do I greatly blame him. As you represent it, the poor mother was willing and glad to consent to the arrangement. An adoption would have been perfectly legitimate and proper. Fred only chose the substitution plan to save Minna from trouble and worry. I know Fred so well, he was impulsive and he stopped at nothing to please or comfort his wife. So, I can easily see how he decided, on the impulse of the moment, to do this thing, and if, as you say, Minna took to the child at once, and loved it as her own, of course he felt that the plan must be kept up, the deception must be maintained.”

“It accounts, I dare say, for the slight friction that so frequently arose between Betty and her father, – for we may as well continue to call him her father.”

“It does. I suppose when the child exhibited traits that annoyed or displeased Fred, he resented it and he couldn’t help showing it. He had a strong clannish feeling about the Varians and he was sensitive to many slight faults in Betty that Minna never gave any heed to.”

“It’s an interesting study in the relative values of heredity and environment.”

“Yes, it is; and it proves my own theory which is that their influences average about fifty-fifty. Many times heredity is stronger than environment, and often it’s the other way, but oftenest of all, as in this case, the one offsets the other. I know nothing of Betty’s real ancestry, but it must have been fairly good, or Fred never would have taken her at all.”

“And it was, of course, his clannish loyalty to his family name that would not let him leave the pearls to Betty.”

“Yes, they have always been left to a Varian and Fred couldn’t leave them to one who was really an outsider.”

“It also explains Mr Varian’s objections to Betty’s marriage.”

“Oh, it does! Poor man, what he must have suffered. He was a high-strung nature, impulsive and even impetuous, but of a sound, impeccable honesty that wouldn’t brook a shadow of wrong to any one.”

“I suppose what he had done troubled him more or less all his life.”

“I suppose so. Not his conscience, – I can see how he looked on his deed as right, – but he was bothered by circumstances, – and it was a difficult situation that he had created. The more I realize it, the sorrier I feel for my poor brother. To make his will was a perplexity! His lawyer has told me that when he left the pearls away from Betty, he said, ‘I must do it! I have to do it!’ in a voice that was fairly agonized. The lawyer couldn’t understand what he meant, but assumed it was some cloud on Betty’s birth. I daresay Fred was not bothered about his money, for he knew if he died first, Minna would provide for Betty. But the pearls he had to arrange for. Oh, well, Mr Wise, now then, viewed in the light of these revelations, where do we stand? Who killed my brother? Who killed the maid, Martha? Who kidnapped Betty and Mr North?”

“Those are not easy questions, Doctor Varian,” Wise responded, with a grave face, “but of this I am confident, – one name will answer them all.”

“You know the name?”

“I am not quite sure enough yet to say that I do, – but I have a strong suspicion. I think it is the man who wrote the blackmailing letters to Mr Varian.”

“The man we call Stephen? It well may be. They referred to a robbed woman. Now, my brother never robbed anybody in the commonly accepted sense of that term, but it may mean the mother of Betty. Could the doctor in the Greenvale Hospital, that attended the two women that night, be trying to make money out of the matter?”

“They tell me he died some years ago.”

“But these letters are not all recent. And, too, he might have divulged the secret before he died, and whoever he told used it as a threat against my brother.”

“It’s hardly a blackmailing proposition.”

“Oh, yes, it is. Say the doctor, – or the doctor’s confidant threatened Fred with exposure of the secret of Betty’s birth, I know my brother well enough to be certain that he would pay large sums before he would bring on Minna and Betty the shock and publicity, even though there was no actual disgrace.”

“Well, then, granting a blackmailer, he’s the one to look for, but on the other hand, why should he kill Mr Varian, when he was his hope of financial plunder? Why should he kidnap Betty? And, above all, why should he kill Martha and abduct Lawrence North?”

“The only one of those very pertinent questions that I can answer is the one about Betty. Whoever kidnapped her, did it for ransom. That is evidenced by the letters to Minna.”

“If they are genuine.”

“Oh, they are, – I’m sure. She had another while you were away.”

“She did! To what purport?”

“Further and more desperate insistence of the ransom, – and quickly.”

“The regular procedure! If it is a fake they would do the same thing.”

“Yes, – and they would also, if it is a real issue.”

Wise went at once to find Minna and see the new letter.

It was indeed imperative, saying, in part:

“Now we have Betty safe, but this is your last chance to get her back. We are too smart for your wise detective and we are in dead earnest. Also Betty will be dead in earnest unless you do exactly as we herein direct. Also, this is our last letter. If you decide against us, we settle Betty’s account and call the whole deal off. Our instructions are the same as before. On Friday night, at midnight, go to the edge of the cliff and throw the package of money over. Tie to it some float and we will do the rest. That is, if you act in sincerity. If you are false-minded in the least detail, we will know it. We are wiser than Wise. So take your choice and, – have a care! No one will be more faithful than we, if you act in good faith. Also, no one can be worse than we can be, if you betray us!”

The somewhat lengthy letter was written on the same typewriter as had been used for the others, and Wise studied it.

“There’s nothing to be deduced from the materials,” he said. “They’re too smart to use traceable paper or typing. But there are other indications, and, I think, Mrs Varian, at last I see a ray of hope, and I trust it will soon be a bright gleam and then full sunshine!”

“Good!” Zizi cried, clapping her hands. “When Penny talks poetry, he’s in high good humor, – and when he’s in high good humor, it’s ’cause he’s on the right track, – and when he’s on the right track, – he gets there!”

Then they told Wise about the strange communication from the girl who knew lip-reading, and the detective was even more highly elated.

“Great!” he exclaimed. “Perfectly remarkable! Where’s Granniss?”

“Gone to Boston to see a moving picture concern. He may have to go on to New York. He hopes to be back by Saturday at latest.”