A Chain of Evidence

"I didn't feel satisfied to trust my uncorroborated opinion, and desired the advice of another physician."

"After you learned beyond all doubt that Mr. Pembroke had been wilfully murdered, did you observe anything that might point toward a possible criminal?"

"No, nothing at all. I found a key in the bed, which had doubtless slipped from under the pillow. It seemed to be an especial key, as of a box or drawer."

"Where is the key?"

"I handed it to Mr. Landon for safe keeping."

At the request of the Coroner I produced the key, and gave it to him. He turned to Miss Pembroke.

"Was this key the property of your uncle?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied; "it may have been."

"You have never seen it before, then?"

"Not to my knowledge. But my uncle has several boxes in the bank and in the safe deposit company, and it may belong to one of them."

"Do you know anything of this key, Mr. Lawrence?" pursued the Coroner, turning to the young man.

"I know nothing whatever of my uncle's business affairs, or his boxes or keys. Doubtless his lawyer could tell you of these matters."

"Who is his lawyer, and why has he not been summoned?" said Mr. Ross. He looked at Miss Pembroke, as if she were the one in authority.

"We have sent for him," replied Miss Pembroke, "but he is out of town." As she spoke, the girl's cheeks flushed to a delicate pink, and my heart sank as I began to fear that she was deeply interested in the handsome lawyer, and that her apparently adverse remarks concerning him had been prompted by feminine pique.

The Coroner laid the key on the table before him, as if postponing its further consideration and then called Doctor Post as a witness.

The young man, who had been again summoned from his office, gave his testimony in a fussy, self-important sort of way.

His evidence agreed with all Doctor Masterson had said, and continued thus:

"I felt, like Doctor Masterson, that the effects were not quite those of apoplexy, and so made a thorough examination for other causes of death. At the base of the brain I discovered a small black speck. It proved to be the end of a long pin, which was so deeply imbedded as to be almost invisible. It is not strange that Doctor Masterson should not have discovered it, as it was completely covered by the long, thick white hair of the head."

"This pin, you say, is a hat-pin?"

"A part of a hat-pin. It was evidently inserted while the victim was asleep. It was then, either intentionally or accidentally, broken in half. Owing to a peculiar tendency of human flesh, the pin was probably drawn in a trifle deeper than when left there by the criminal's hand, and thus almost disappeared from view."

"And it was this stab of a pin that caused death?"

"Undoubtedly – and immediately."

Except for a few technical points regarding the cause and effect of cerebral hemorrhage, that was the gist of Doctor Post's evidence.

As the case was indisputably a murder, there being no possibility of suicide, the next thing was to discover the criminal.

Coroner Ross went about his work in a most methodical and systematic manner. His witnesses were called, sworn, questioned, and dismissed with a despatch that amazed me.

The agent of The Hammersleigh, who also lived in the house, was examined next.

"Your name?" asked the Coroner.

"James Whitaker."

"Your occupation?"

"I am agent and superintendent of The Hammersleigh. I live in an apartment on the first floor."

"How long have you had Robert Pembroke as a tenant?"

"Mr. Pembroke has occupied this apartment for three years."

"Of how many members did the family consist?"

"Until about three months ago, there were three in the family. Mr. Pembroke, his niece and nephew. Also, one servant was kept, usually a colored woman. About three months ago, the nephew, Mr. Lawrence, moved away."

"They have proved satisfactory as tenants?"

"Exceedingly so, with one exception. It was always difficult to collect from Mr. Pembroke the money due for his rent."

"He was not a poor man?"

"Quite the contrary. He was a very wealthy man, but he hated to part with his money."

"When did you see him last?"

"Yesterday afternoon. About two o'clock I came up here to ask him for his rent which was overdue."

"He paid you?"

"Yes; he paid me with bills of large denomination, taken from a very large roll of similar bills. He must have had about ten thousand dollars in the roll."

I listened with great interest to this evidence. Surely that roll of bills which Mr. Whitaker saw was the money noted on the memorandum I had found.

"Were the bills in a rubber band, and was a slip of paper with them?" I asked, for the inquest was conducted informally, and anyone spoke who chose.

"Yes," replied Whitaker, looking at me with a glance that savored of suspicion; "how did you know?"

I resented his manner, and then I suddenly remembered that I was but a new tenant, and the agent was justified in his desire to question me.

"Mr. Landon will be examined later," said the Coroner, with his authoritative air; "we will continue with the present witness. What can you say, Mr. Whitaker, of the general character of Mr. Pembroke?"

"I know little of him. As a tenant he made me no trouble at all. He never complained to me of the apartment, the management or the service. As a business man, I have no reason to think him other than upright and honorable. Further than this I had no acquaintance with him. He was not a man to invite acquaintance."

"He was of uncertain temper, I understand."

"Well, it could hardly be called uncertain." Mr. Whitaker smiled a little. "On the contrary, his temper was certain to be bad. He was an inveterate scold, and sometimes would fly into a most ungovernable rage over nothing at all. But this was not my affair; he always paid his rent, – though only under protest, and after numerous requests."