The Diamond Pin Read online

  CHAPTER VII

  THE CASE AGAINST BANNARD

  "It's just this way," said Lucille Darrel, positively, "this house ismine, and I want it to myself. Ursula Pell is dead and buried and shecan't play any more tricks on anybody. I admit that was a hard joke onyou, Iris, to get a dime and pin, when for years you've been expecting adiamond pin! I can't help laughing every time I think of it! But all thesame, that's your business, not mine. And, of course, you and Mr.Bannard will get your jewels yet, somehow. That woman left someexplanation or directions how to find her hoard of gems. You needn'ttell me she didn't."

  "That's just it, Miss Darrel," and Iris looked deeply perplexed, "I'venever known Aunt Ursula to play one of her foolish tricks but what she'made it up' as she called it, to her victim. Why, her diary is full ofplanned jokes and played jokes, but always it records the amends shemade. I think yet, that somewhere in that diary we'll find the record ofwhere her jewels are."

  "I don't," declared Bannard. "I've read the thing through twice; and itdoes seem to have vague hints, but nothing of real importance."

  "I've read it too, at least some of it," and Miss Darrel lookedthoughtful, "and I think the reference to the crypt is of importance.Also, I think her idea of having a jeweled chalice made is in keepingwith the idea of a crypt as a hiding-place. What more like Ursula Pellthan to manage to hide her gems in the crypt of a church and then desireto leave a chalice to that church."

  "There's no crypt in the Episcopal church here," objected Iris.

  "I didn't say here. The church, I take it, is in some other place. Shehad no notion of giving a chalice to Mr. Bowen, she just teased himabout that, but she meant it for some church in Chicago, where she usedto live, or up in that little Maine town where she was brought up andwhere her father was a minister."

  "This may all be so," Bannard admitted, "but it's pure supposition onyour part."

  "Have you any better supposition? Any other theory? Any clear directionin which to look?"

  "No;" and the young man frowned; "I haven't. I think that dime and pinbusiness unspeakably small and mean! I put up with those tricks as longas I could stand them, but to have them pursue me after Mrs. Pell isdead is a little too much! It's none of it _her_ family's fortune,anyway. My uncle, Mr. Pell, owned the jewels and left them to her. Shedid quite right in dividing them between her own niece and myself, butfar from right in so secreting them that they can't be found. And theynever will be found! Of that I'm certain. The will itself said theywould _doubtless_ be discovered! What a way to put it!"

  "That's all so, Win," Iris spoke wearily, "but we must _try_ to findthem. Couldn't that crypt be in this house, not in any church?"

  Bannard looked at the girl curiously. "Do you think so?" he said,briefly.

  "You mean a concealed place, I suppose," put in Miss Darrel. "Well,remember this house is mine, now, and I don't want any digging into itsfoundations promiscuously. If you can prove to me by some goodarchitect's investigation that there is such a place or any chance ofsuch a place, you may open it up. But I won't have the foundationsundermined and the cellars dug into, hunting for a crypt that isn'tthere!"

  "Of course we can't prove it's here until we find it, or find someindications of it," Iris agreed. "But you've invited us both to stayhere for a week or two----"

  "I know I did, but I wish I hadn't, if you're going to tear down myhouse----"

  "Now, now, Miss Darrel," Bannard couldn't help laughing at her angryface, "we're not going to pull the house down about your ears! And ifyou don't want Iris and me to visit you, as you asked us to, just say soand we'll mighty soon make ourselves scarce! We'll go to the village innto-day, if you like."

  "No, no; don't be so hasty. Take a week, Iris, to get your thingstogether, and you stay that long, too, Mr. Bannard; but, of course, itisn't strange that I should want my house to myself after a time."

  "Not at all, Miss Lucille," Iris smiled pleasantly, "you are quitejustified. I will stay a few days, and then I shall go to New York andlive with a girl friend of mine, who will be very glad to have me."

  "And I will remain but a day or two here," said Bannard, "and though Imay be back and forth a few times, I'll stay mostly in my New Yorkrooms. I admit I rather want to look around here, for it seems to methat, as heirs to a large fortune of jewels, it's up to Iris and myselfto look first in the most likely hiding-places for them; and where moreprobable than the testator's own house? Also, Miss Darrel, there willyet be much investigation here, in an endeavor to find the murderer;you will have to submit to that."

  "Of course, I shall put no obstacles in the way of the law. Thatdetective Hughes is a most determined man. He said yesterday, justbefore the funeral, that to-day he should begin his realinvestigations."

  And the detective made good his promise. He arrived at Pellbrook andannounced his determination to make a thorough search of the place,house and grounds.

  "That crypt business," he declared, for he had read the diary, "means awhole lot. It's no church vault, my way of thinking, it's a crypt inthis here house and the jewels are there. Mark that. Also, the concealedcrypt is part of or connected with the secret passage that leads intothat room, where the windows are barred, and that's how the murderer gotin--or, at least, how he got out."

  "But--but there isn't any such crypt," and Iris looked at himimploringly. "If there were, don't you suppose I'd know it?"

  "You might, and then, again, you mightn't," returned Hughes; then headded, "and then again, mebbe you do."

  A painful silence followed, for the detective's tone and glance, evenmore than his words, hinted an implication.

  "And I wish you'd tell me," he went on, to Iris, "just what that funnybusiness about the ten cent piece means. Did your aunt tell you she wasgoing to leave you a real diamond?"

  "Yes; for years Mrs. Pell has repeatedly told me that in her will shehad directed that I was to receive a small box from her lawyer, whichcontained a diamond pin. That is, I thought she said a diamond pin; butof course I know now that she really said, 'a dime and pin.' That is notat all surprising, for it was the delight of her life to tease people insome such way."

  "But she knew you _thought_ she meant a diamond pin?"

  "Of course, she did."

  "She never put it in writing?"

  "No; then she would have had to spell it, and spoil the joke. I don'tresent that little trick, it was part of her nature to do those things."

  "Did she never refer to its value?"

  "Not definitely. She sometimes spoke of the valuable pin that would someday be mine, or the important legacy I should receive, or the greattreasure she had bequeathed to me, but I never remember of hearing hersay it was a costly gem or a valuable stone. She was always particularto tell the literal truth, while intentionally misleading her hearer.You see I am so familiar with her jests that I know all these details.It seems to me, now, that I ought to have realized from the way she said'dime an' pin' that she was tricking me. But few people pronounce_diamond_ with punctilious care; nearly everybody says 'di'mond'."

  "Not in New England," observed Lucille Darrel, positively.

  "Perhaps not," agreed Iris. "But anyway, it never occurred to me thatshe meant anything else than a diamond pin, and one of her finestdiamonds at that. However, as I said, it isn't that joke of hers thattroubles me, so much as the thought that she left her entire collectionof jewels to Mr. Bannard and myself and gave us no instructions where tofind them. It isn't like her to do that. Either she has left directions,which we must find, or she fully intended to do so, and her sudden deathprevented it. That's what I'm afraid of. She was of rather aprocrastinating nature, and also, greatly given to changing her mind.Now, she distinctly states in her diary that the jewels are all in thecrypt, and I am firmly convinced that she intended to, or did, tellwhere that crypt is. If we can't find any letter or other revelation, wemust look for the crypt itself, but I confess I think that would behunting a needle in a haystack; for Aunt Ursula had a varied life, andbefore she settled dow
n here she lived in a dozen different cities inmany parts of the world."

  "You're right, Miss Clyde," and Hughes nodded, "she prob'ly left somepaper telling where that crypt is situated. Me, I believe it's in thishouse, but all the same, we've got to look mighty sharp. I don't want tomiss it, I can tell you. Sorry, Miss Darrel, but we'll have to gothrough your cellar with a keen search."

  "That's all right," Miss Darrel acquiesced. "I'm more than willing toallow a police hunt, but I don't want every Tom, Dick and Harry pullingmy house to pieces."

  "Lucky my name's Winston," said Bannard, good-naturedly. "Do you mind ifI go with the strong arm of the law?"

  "No," said his hostess, "and don't misunderstand me, young man. I'venothing against you, personally, but I don't admit your rights, as I dothose of the police."

  "I know; I understand," and Bannard followed the detective down thecellar stairs.

  All this occurred the day after Ursula Pell's funeral. In the four daysthat had elapsed since her inexplicable death, no progress had beenmade toward solving the mystery. The coroner's inquest had brought outno important evidence, there were no clues that promised help, andthough the police were determined and energetic, they had so little towork on that it was discouraging.

  But Hughes was a man of bull-dog grit and perseverance. He argued that amysterious murder had been committed and the mystery had to be solvedand the murderer punished. That was all there was about it. So, to work.And his work began, in accordance with the dictates of his judgment, inthe cellar of Ursula Pell's house.

  And it ended there, for that day. No amount of scrutiny, of soundingwalls or measuring dimensions brought forth the slightest suspicion,hope, or even possibility of a secret vault or crypt within the fourwalls. Hughes had two assistants, skilled builders both. Bannard addedhis efforts, but no stone or board was there that hadn't its own honestuse and place.

  Coal bins, ash pits, wood boxes, cupboards and portable receptacles wereinvestigated with meticulous care, and the result was absolutely nothingto bear out the theory of a crypt of any sort or size, concealed orotherwise.

  "And that settles that notion," summed up Hughes, as he made his reportto the two interested women. "Of course, you must see, there's two waysto approach this case--one being from the question of how the murderergot in and out of that room, and the other being who the murderer was.Of course, if we find out either of those things, we're a heap forradertoward finding out the other. See?"

  "I see," said Miss Darrel, "but I should think you'd find it easier towork on your first question. For here's the room, the door, the lock,and all those things. But as to the murderer, he's gone!"

  "Clearly put, ma'am! And quite true. But the room and lock--in plainsight though they are--don't seem to be of any help. Whereas, themurderer, though he's gone, may not be able to stay gone."

  "Just what do you mean by that?" asked Bannard.

  "Two things, sir. One is, that they do say a murderer always returns tothe scene of his crime."

  "Rubbish! I've heard that before! It doesn't mean a thing, any more thanthe old saw that 'murder will out' is true."

  "All right, sir, that's one; then, again, there's a chance that saidmurderer may not be able to stay away because we may catch him."

  "That's the talk!" said Bannard. "Now you've said something worth while.Get your man, and then find out from him how he accomplished theimpossible. Or, rather, the seemingly impossible. For, since somebodydid enter that room, there was a way to enter it."

  "It isn't the entering, you know, Mr. Bannard. Everybody was out of theliving room at the time, and the intruder could have walked right in theside door of that room, and through into Mrs. Pell's sitting room. Thequestion is, how did he get out, after ransacking the room and killingthe lady, and yet leave the door locked after him."

  "All right, that's your problem then. But, as I said, if he _did_ do it,or _since_ he did do it, somebody ought to be able to find out how."

  "I'll subscribe to that, somebody _ought_ to be able to, but who is thesomebody?"

  "Don't ask me, I'm no detective."

  "No, sir. Now, Mr. Bannard, what about this? Do you think thatFlorentine pocket-book, that was found emptied, as if by the robber, isthe one that your aunt left you in her will?"

  "I think it is, Mr. Hughes. But I am by no means certain. Indeed, Isuppose it, only because it looks as if it had held something of valuewhich the intruder cared enough for to carry off with him."

  "You think it looks that way?"

  "I don't," interposed Iris. "I think there was nothing in it, and that'swhy it was flung down. If it had had contents the thief would have takenpocket-book and all."

  "Not necessarily," said Bannard. "But it's all supposition. If that'sthe pocket-book my aunt willed to me, it's worthless now. If there isanother Florentine pocket-book, I hope I can find it. You see, MissDarrel, we'll have to make a search of my aunt's belongings. Why all thejewels may be hidden in among her clothing."

  "No," and Iris shook her head decidedly. "Aunt Ursula never would havedone that."

  "Oh, I don't think so, either, but we _must_ hunt up things. She mayhave had a dozen Florentine pocket-books, for all I know."

  "But the will said, in the desk," Iris reminded him. "And there's noother in the desk, and that one has been there for a long time. I'veoften seen it there."

  "You have?" said Hughes, a little surprised. "What was in it?"

  "I never noticed. I never thought anything about it, any more than Ithought of any other book or paper in Mrs. Pell's desk. She didn't keepmoney in it, that I know. But she did keep money in that little handbag,quite large sums, at times."

  "Well," Hughes said, at last, by way of a general summing up, "I'vesearched the cellar, and I've long since searched the room where thelady died, and now I must ask permission to search the room above thatone."

  "Of course," agreed Miss Darrel. "That's your room, Iris."

  "Yes; the detective is quite at liberty to go up there at once, so faras I am concerned."

  The others remained below while Hughes and Iris went upstairs.

  But after a few minutes they returned, and Hughes declared that allthought of any secret passage from Iris' room down to her aunt's sittingroom was absolutely out of the question.

  "This house is built about as complicatedly as a packing-box!" helaughed. "There's no cubby or corner unaccounted for. There are nothickened walls or unexplained bulges, or measurements that don't gee.No, sir-ee! However that wretch got out of that locked room, it was notby means of a secret exit. I'll stake my reputation on that! Now, havingfor the moment dismissed the question of means or method from my mind, Iwant to ask a few questions of one concerning whom, I frankly admit, Iam in doubt. Mr. Bannard, you've no objection, of course, to replying?"

  "Of course not," returned Bannard, but he suddenly paled.

  Iris, too, turned white, and caught her breath quickly. "Don't youanswer, Win," she cried; "don't you say a word without counsel!"

  "Why, Iris, nonsense! Mr. Hughes isn't--isn't accusing me----"

  "I'll put the questions, and you can do as you like about answering."Hughes spoke a little more gruffly than he had been doing, and lookedsternly at his man.

  "Were you up in this locality on Sunday afternoon, Mr. Bannard?"

  "I was not. I've told you so before."

  "That doesn't make it true. How do you explain the fact that Mrs. Pellmade out to you a check dated last Sunday?"

  "I've already discussed that," Bannard spoke slowly and evenhesitatingly, but he looked Hughes in the eye, and his glance didn'tfalter. "My aunt drew that check and sent it to me by mail----"

  "We've proved she sent no letter to you on Sunday----"

  "Oh, no, you haven't. You've only proved that Campbell didn't mail aletter from her to me."

  Hughes paused, then went on slowly.

  "All right, when did you get that letter?"

  "How do you know I got it at all?"

  "Because you've deposi
ted the check in your bank in New York."

  "And how did I deposit it?"

  "By mail, from here, day before yesterday."

  "Certainly I did. Well?"

  But Bannard's jauntiness was forced. His voice shook and his fingerswere nervously twisting.

  Hughes continued sternly. "I ask you again, Mr. Bannard, how did youreceive that check? How did it come into your possession?"

  "Easily enough. I wrote to my hotel to forward my mail, and they did so.There were two or three checks, the one in question among them, and Iendorsed them and sent them to the bank by mail. I frequently make mydeposits that way."

  "But, Mr. Bannard, I have been to your hotel; I have interviewed theclerk who attended to forwarding your mail, and he told me there was noletter from Berrien."

  "He overlooked it. You can't expect him to be sure about such a minordetail."

  "He was sure. If Mrs. Pell did mail you that check in a letter onSunday, it would have reached New York on Monday. By that time thepapers had published accounts of the mysterious tragedy up here, and anyletter from this town would attract attention, especially one addressedto the nephew of the victim of the crime."

  "That's what happened, however," and Bannard succeeded in forcing asmile. "If you don't believe it, the burden of proof rests with you."

  "No, sir, we _don't_ believe it. We believe that you were up here onSunday, that you received that check from the lady's own hand, that thehalf-burned cigarette was left in that room by you, and the New Yorkpaper also. In addition to this, we believe that you abstracted thepaper of value from the Florentine pocket-book, and that you were themeans of Mrs. Pell's death, whether by actual murder, or by attackingher in a fit of anger and cruelly maltreating her, finally flinging herto the floor, with murderous intent! You were seen hanging around thenearby woods about noon, and concealed yourself somewhere in the housewhile the family were at dinner. These things are enough to warrant usin charging you with this crime, and you are under arrest."

  A shrill whistle brought two men in from outside, and Winston Bannardwas marched to jail.