The Mark of Cain

“Neither. It was just about level. It slanted, however, toward the middle of the body, from the left side, thus practically proving a right-handed use of the weapon.”

“Was death instantaneous?”

“Probably not. But it must have occurred very shortly after the blow.”

Doctor Fulton, the family physician, corroborated the report of the police surgeon in all its essentials.

“Was Mr. Trowbridge in general good health, so far as you know?” asked the coroner.

“Absolutely. He was strong, hale and hearty, always. I have known him for years, and he was never seriously ill.”

“And strong?”

“Of average strength.”

“Would you not judge then, he could have resisted this attack?”

“Undoubtedly he tried to do so. There is some indication of a muscular struggle. But the assumption must be that the assailant was a stronger man than the victim.”

“How do you explain his contorted features, even in death?”

“By the fact that he was surprised and overpowered, and his dying struggles were so desperate as to leave their mark.”

“You do not attribute the expression on the dead face to any terrific mental emotion at the moment of death?”

“It may be so. Indeed, it may be the result of both mental and physical agony.”

“The point is important,” said the coroner, with an impressive wave of his hand. “For if mental, it might mean that the man who attacked him was known to him; while merely physical horror would imply a robber or thug.”

The jurymen wagged their heads wisely at this sapient remark, as if it opened up a new field of conjecture.

Avice was questioned next.

She was a little startled at the suddenness of the call, but responded clearly and with an entirely collected manner to all queries.

“You are Mr. Trowbridge’s niece?”

“Yes, the daughter of his younger brother.”

“You make your home here?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you done so?”

“Since childhood. My parents died before I was ten years old.”

“And you are your uncle’s heiress?”

Judge Hoyt looked a little annoyed at the baldness of this question, but Avice replied, serenely, “To the extent of part of his fortune.”

“Can you tell me any details of the last day of your uncle’s life?”

“Very few. He left home in the morning to go to his business office quite as usual. He generally returns about five o’clock. When he did not arrive at that time, I felt anxious, and later, called Judge Hoyt on the telephone to ask if he had seen or heard of my uncle.”

“Why did you call Judge Hoyt?”

“He was not only my uncle’s lawyer, but his personal friend. They had business to transact at times, and I thought my uncle might possibly have gone to see him. When I learned that Judge Hoyt knew nothing of my uncle’s whereabouts, I asked him to come here, as I felt decidedly uneasy and wanted some one to confer with in whom I felt confidence.”

“Had Mr. Trowbridge manifested any unusual tendencies or habits of late?”

“None whatever. He has been well, happy and quite as usual in every way.”

“Can you form any opinion or have you any suspicion as to who might have committed this crime?”

“Absolutely none. But I have an unflinching determination to find out, at any expense of time, labor or money!”

The girl’s voice rang out in a high, sharp tone, and she clenched her slender hands until the knuckles showed through the white skin.

“We all have that determination, Miss Trowbridge,” said the coroner, a little stiffly, and after a few unimportant questions, Avice was dismissed.

Mrs. Black was called next. This time it was a case of diamond cut diamond. If the coroner was self-important, he was no more so than his witness. If he spoke with pomposity she answered with disdain, and if he was dictatorial she was arrogant.

“You are housekeeper here?” Berg began.

“That is my position, but I was also the fiancée of the late Mr. Trowbridge and should have been his wife next month, had he lived so long.”

“Confine your answers, please, to the questions asked.”

“Your question required two statements in reply.”

“You are a beneficiary under the will of Mr. Trowbridge?”

“I have not yet heard the will read.”

“Do you not know?”

“I know only what Mr. Trowbridge himself told me.”

“And that was?”

“That I should inherit a handsome sum, in addition to this house and its contents.”

“In the event of your being his wife?”

“In the event of his death.”

“Do you know anything further than we have heard of Mr. Trowbridge’s movements on the day that he met his death?”