# The Twenty-Six Clues/Chapter 4

pp. 38–50.
CHAPTER IV
The Other House
THE rear basement door of the Jarvis house stood wide and a low light glowed forth as McCarty and Dennis lifted the limp slender form of the unconscious girl between them and under the direction of her employer, bore it into the house and along the narrow hall to the servant's dining-room, where they deposited it upon a lounge.
Jarvis himself poured water from a pitcher which stood upon the sideboard and dashed it into the girl's face.
"Give her air!" Dennis admonished. "She's only fainted!—There! She's coming to!"
The flaxen head with its drenched wisp of a cap all awry had stirred upon the cushion and her frightened blue eyes opened suddenly, and rested full upon her employer. Bewilderment gave place to swift apprehension and as swiftly a look of belated caution veiled them as she struggled to sit upright.
"What is it, Monsieur Norwood?" she asked in a faint, trembling voice. "What has happened? Ah, I remember! Monsieur came upon me so suddenly in the garden—— Has Madame returned?"
The sharp note of anxiety and fear betrayed itself in her tones and Jarvis countered sternly.
"When did Madame go out, Margot?"
"I do not know." The girl had risen and catching at a chair for support, shrank slowly away from him. "This afternoon when Madame returned from shopping, she said that she had a slight headache and would rest for an hour; that I was not to disturb her until she rang. But it grew late and I remembered Madame's dinner engagement; I ventured at last to go to her room but she was not there. She had gone!—Monsieur, why do you look at me like that! Has—has something happened to Madame?"
"What did you expect would happen to her, my girl?" Inspector Druet stepped forward and his peremptory tones cut the tense air like a whip lash.
The girl wheeled and as she noted his uniform her pale face grayed and her fluttering hands crept to her throat.
"Who are you?" she whispered. "Where is Madame? Oh, in mercy, tell me, Messieurs! Where is Madame Jarvis?"
"Don't you know?" The Inspector's keen eyes seemed to bore through her wavering ones. "What did you mean just now in the yard when you said: 'It has come'?"
"Did I say that, Monsieur?" Margot's own eyes shifted and fell. "I did not know; I was startled, I—ah, tell me! What has happened to Madame?"
"I can't stand this!" Oliver Jarvis muttered hoarsely. "Margot, your mistress is—is——"
"Dead" The Inspector finished for him as he hesitated.
"Ah, Mon Dieu, not that! Not that! Say that it is not so, Monsieur, that it is a lie! Madame is not dead!"
She sprang forward and seized her employer's arm in a frienzied grasp but reading irrevocable confirmation in his tragic eyes, she burst into wild weeping.
For a space no coherent word could be coaxed or bullied from her as she sank upon the couch once more and buried her face in her hands, her slim body rocking with the storm of sobs which swept over her. When the violence of her emotion had abated somewhat Inspector Druet laid a not unkindly hand upon her shoulder.
"Now then, my girl, you must brace up and answer me. Your name is Margot, isn't it?"
At his touch she stiffened and after a moment raised a dull, tear-stained face from which all expression seemed to have fled as she nodded dumbly.
"At what time, Margot, did Mrs. Jarvis return from shopping this afternoon?"
The girl moistened her dry lips.
"At four o'clock, Monsieur."
"She complained of feeling ill. Did she lie down immediately?"
"I do not know, Monsieur. I got Madame into a negligee and went upon my errand."
"What errand? You did not mention it a minute ago." The Inspector eyed her sharply.
"Madame sent me to a shop down-town to change some garments she had purchased and which did not fit," Margot explained. "She told me not to disturb her on my return, but to wait until she rang."
"When did you get back?"
"At half-past five, Monsieur. Madame's dinner engagement was for seven."
"How long did you wait before going to her room?"
"For an hour, Monsieur; until half -past six. I knocked several times but there was no reply and at last I entered. Madame was not there."
No shade of defiance colored the well-trained deference of her tone, yet her reluctance was manifest and Inspector Druet asked quickly:
"Was the room in order? Did anything indicate that Mrs. Jarvis' rest had been disturbed or that she had left in haste?"
"No, Monsieur. The negligee was lying across the chaise-longue and the slippers on the floor beside it, but the cushions were quite smooth and the bed itself was untouched "
She paused with a slight catch in her breath and Inspector Druet pressed home his advantage.
"So Mrs. Jarvis had not lain down to rest, after all. When she mentioned her headache, did she appear to be really ill, Margot?"
"But no. Madame's eyes were very bright, and her color—oh, Monsieur, how was it that she died?"
"You will learn all that later." The Inspector evaded another possible outbeak of hysteria. "Where were the other servants during the afternoon? Were they all in the house?"
"No, Monsieur, only the housemaid and she was in her room nursing a toothache. Since there was to be no dinner at home, Madame had given both the cook and Henry a holiday."
"Have they returned yet?"
"Yes, Monsieur. They both came in before eleven o'clock and went to their rooms."
"How is it that you did not go to bed? Do you always wait up for Mrs. Jarvis?"
"Not always." The girl hesitated once more. "But to-night I—I was uneasy about Madame. Her departure without ringing for me to dress her——"
"Margot," the Inspector interrupted with a trace of sternness in his tones. "What were you doing out in the yard at this hour when we came upon you?"
"The house stifled me; I wanted the fresh air." Her eyes wavered and fell. "Madame had intended to return very early and when she did not come I—I became nervous, alarmed——"
"Why? You had some other reason for your fears than the mere fact that your mistress had gone out without summoning you." The Inspector thrust his face close to that of the shrinking girl. "Margot, I want the truth. Did you surmise what had taken place in this house during your absence this afternoon? When you cried out to us 'It has come!' you knew that your mistress was dead——"
"Ah, no! No, Monsieur!" Her voice rose in a protesting wail. "Madame was not even ill, a* headache, only! When I saw Monsieur Jams' face there in the garden I knew that something unfortunate—an accident, perhaps—must have happened to Madame! That it had come true!"
"What had come true?" demanded Oliver Jarvis hoarsely.
"My dream," Margot responded. "Last night I dreamed that Madame was suffering, in danger! I ventured to tell of it this morning, but although she only laughed at me I could not put it from my thoughts for at my home in Louvain before the Germans came I had warning in my dreams of what was to be, Monsieur. Oh, was it an accident that befell Madame?"
Dennis' eyes were goggling in superstitious awe as he glanced at McCarty, but the latter was gazing intently at the girl with an expression of bland incredulity not unmixed with admiration.
"That will do for now." The Inspector turned to Oliver Jarvis. "I won't rout out the other servants; there will be time enough for them in the morning. They sleep on the top floor, I suppose?"
Jarvis nodded.
"I should like to see the lower portion of the house now and particularly Mrs. Jarvis' apartments," continued the Inspector. "Margot, we shall not need you any more to- night but don't attempt to leave the house; I want to have a further talk with you to-morrow."
The girl bowed and started for the door, then turned in swift supplication to her employer.
"Monsieur!" she cried brokenly. "You know how I have loved Madame! Now you tell me that she is dead but I may not know the cause. Madame was alive and well but a few short hours ago! Ah, Monsieur, in pity tell me how Madame came to her death!"
Jarvis essayed to reply, but no words came, and mutely he motioned toward the official.
The latter considered for a moment and then announced slowly:
"She was murdered, Margot."
"Murdered!" The echo was a mere whisper and the girl's eyes dark with horror traveled from face to face of the group before her as if seeking a denial of the dread truth. "I cannot believe—It must have been some frightful mis- take! What madman has done this?"
"That is what we are here to find out," the Inspector responded gruffly. "You may go."
Margot still hesitated, then timidly she approached her employer.
"I—I will pray for the soul of Madame," she whispered and turning stumbled blindly from the room.
The lower floors of the Jarvis house were laid out much after the same plan as the Norwood residence and although evidently erected at approximately the same period it had later been remodeled and decorated. The music-room had been elongated into a small ball-room, the staircase widened and a tiny conservatory added at the back. Nowhere was there sign of confusion or disorder and the grim little party made its way upstairs.
At the threshold of the dead woman's private apartments, Oliver Jarvis drew back with a moan of uncontrollable anguish.
"Don't, dear boy! Don't go in now!" urged Norwood gently. " You've endured all that you can for to-night "
"No, Uncle Cal." The young man braced himself in dogged determination. "I must see this through. I must learn the truth!"
They entered the sitting-room exquisite in its soft, rose-shaded lights, eloquent in the studied simplicity of the groupings of rare old furniture and priceless rugs and draperies of the loving care and unostentatiously applied wealth which had been expended to provide a fitting shrine for the bride of five years before. The bedroom into which they passed after a brief scrutiny was tragic in its little intimate hints of a vibrant, living presence; the gold toilet articles upon the dresser, the book open and face down on the table, a crumpled lace handkerchief, a faint perfume—the 'Rose d'Amour' of which the blind secretary had spoken—that still lingered in the air, the night-dress and tiny slippers which lay expectantly beside the turned-back covers of the bed.
Jarvis, whose fortitude despite his efforts was visibly breaking dining their progression through the apartments, now broke down utterly with the grief of overwhelming realization and he sank upon his knees beside the bed.
"Leave me!" he choked, in response to Norwood's compassionate approach. "I want to be alone!" You can see for yourselves that there is nothing here, gentlemen! I shall have myself in hand again by to-morrow, but now I fed that I have reached the end of my endurance. I must be alone to face this thing which has come upon me or I shall go mad!"
It would seem that he spoke truly. There had been no slightest indication of violence or disturbance anywhere in the serene charm of the well-ordered apartments and after a final glance about and whispered word of consolation from Norwood, they turned to the door of the dressing-room beyond.
"By the twenty-four feet of the twelve apostles!" The exclamation burst like a mighty oath from McCarty's lips as for a moment the others halted transfixed upon the thresh- old and the kneeling figure by the bed started up in renewed consternation.
"What is it?" he demanded hoarsely, but no one replied to him.
The little dressing-room was in chaos. Dainty, spindle-legged chairs were flung about, drawers were open and their silken contents billowed out upon the floor, the wardrobe ransacked and from a shattered glass vase beside an overturned table a cluster of wilting roses lay in a sodden mass. The door of a small wall safe swung back upon its hinges and the aperture loomed empty and bare.
"I think we need search no further for the scene of the actual crime, Inspector." Terhune's voice was filled with quiet satisfaction. "It was here, without a doubt, that Mrs. Jarvis fought for her life."
Inspector Druet nodded and his lips tightened as he glanced about the wreck of the pretty room and turned to where Oliver Jarvis stood staring with dazed, horrified eyes.
"Robbery," he announced. "Your wife must have heard someone moving about in here as she prepared to rest and entering been attacked and finally strangled to prevent her giving an alarm. A mighty bold, desperate attempt, in daylight, too! It looks as if it must have been an inside job."
"It couldn't have been!" Jarvis stammered. "You heard what Margot said; none of the servants were at home but the housemaid and she was ill, at the top of the house. Besides, nothing was taken——"
"The safe is empty," Inspector Druet remarked quickly. "Were not Mrs. Jams' jewels there? How can you be sure that nothing of value is missing?"
"Because there was nothing of value here; of sufficient value, at least, to warrant such an attempt," responded the other. "It may be that a few small brooches, a plain platinum wrist watch and articles of that sort were taken but they would scarcely have tempted a thief to commit such a hideous crime for their possession. All my wife's jewels—her diamonds and pearls and pigeon-blood rubies—are locked away in our safe deposit vault. I took them downtown and placed them there myself only yesterday, to remain until our return from abroad and all our servants knew it, so that even if they were not beyond all question, there would have been no incentive for robbery. The gold toilet articles were untouched upon the dresser; you must have seen that as we came through. I—I cannot understand!"
"And poor Evelyn was still wearing her emerald ring," supplemented Norwood. "I noticed it there in the museum. Why did not the murderer tear it from her finger if he were after mere gain? It must be almost priceless."
Jarvis shuddered.
"You forget, Uncle Cal, that it could not have been disposed of." He turned to the rest in explanation. "The emerald is an heirloom in my family and was my betrothal gift to my wife, the only* jewel she resolved to take with her to France. It is square and of wonderful color but our coat of arms is cut so deeply into it as to render it practically valueless if it were shaved down and in its present state it could be too easily traced for anyone to dare dispose of it. It may be that a thief broke in, knowing of the other jewels but ignorant of their removal and my poor wife came upon him. It seems incredible, however, that such an attempt would have been made before dark, at any rate, in a house presumably full of servants."
Terhune who had been quietly but minutely inspecting the chaos of the room now turned to his client.
"Mr. Jarvis, was there anything aside from the jewels here that to your knowledge would have been of peculiar personal value to anyone? I mean something the possession of which would be vital to them? This room has been subjected to a hasty but almost frenzied search, presumably after the safe was opened, and it is scarcely conceivable that the thief would ransack wardrobes and dresser drawers for jewels which he had failed to find there."
Oliver Jarvis eyed him in blank amazement.
"What could there have been?" he asked. "My wife never kept negotiable securities or large sums of money in the house, and if by peculiar personal value you mean any object of a secret or compromising nature, Mr. Terhune, I can only assure you again that her own life was an open book and her associates above question or reproach. Her sympathies were warm but she was far too high-minded to have lent herself to any confidence of a scandalous or dis- graceful sort. This hideous thing must have been the work of a common thief, a burglar, and yet I cannot understand how he managed to time his coming so adroitly, nor how he gained entrance."
The dressing-room possessed two doors beside the one by which they had entered, one of which led to the bathroom beyond, and the other to the hall. The last named was locked and bolted from the inside, the bathroom furnished no evidence of a possible intruder and nowhere was there a clue except the marks upon the door of the safe which had been jimmied open in a professional manner.
After a cursory examination of the closets and wardrobes Inspector Druet glanced with a shrug at the dainty Dresden dock which ticked with gay insouciance upon the mantel and announced:
"Late as it is, I've got to arouse the servants, Mr. Jarvis, and question them. Will you give orders that they are to come to me at once downstairs, say, in your dining-room?"
"You wish to see Margot again, also?" Oliver Jarvis halted in the doorway, still with that stunned look upon his face.
"Margot, by all means," the Inspector retorted. "And, if you please, say nothing of the condition in which we found this room."
When the stricken master of the house had departed upon his errand, Inspector Druet turned to where McCarty and Dennis communed together.
"Mac, I'll want you with me; Riordan, can I press you into service?"
"That you can, sir!" Dennis stepped forward briskly.
"Run back through the yards to Mr. Norwood's house and tell Yost I need him here. Martin can stay where he is but I want Yost on guard at the front of this house and you take the back till after I've searched it from top to bottom."
Carefully locking all entrances to the dead woman's apartments, Inspector Druet pocketed the keys and followed by Norwood, Terhune and McCarty he proceeded to tie dining-room downstairs, where Jarvis joined them.
Margot, still fully dressed, was the first of the servants to appear. Her face bore traces of recent violent emotion but it was now composed and over her stolid Flemish features a certain wary impassivity had settled.
"You had not retired, Margot?" The Inspector glanced sharply at her attire.
"Could sleep come to me on this night, Monsieur?" she retorted but quietly. "I have been walking the floor of my room, trying to make myself comprehend that it is true, this terrible thing which you have told me."
The Inspector spread his notes out upon the table before him.
"Margot, you say that you went upon your errand this afternoon shortly after four o'clock and returned at half- past five; that you waited for an hour, until half-past six, before going to your mistress' apartments. Where were you during that hour?"
"In my room, Monsieur, and in that of Etta, the housemaid, applying hot cloths to her face. She was in great pain."
"You then went to your mistress' rooms and found she had gone," the Inspector pursued. "Did you look through her entire apartment, the dressing-room and bath, as well as the other rooms?"
"Yes, Monsieur." The girl glanced hastily up at him and than dropped her eyes.
"And everything was in perfect order, then, in all the apartment? No room showed the slightest sign of disturbance?"
"None, Monsieur. All was as usual, in perfect order," she repeated quietly.
McCarty drew a deep breath and glanced at Terhune, but the latter was listening with an imperturbable expression. Inspector Druet leaned forward in his chair and his voice took on an added note of sternness.
"This occurred at half-past six?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"What did you do then?"
"I went down to the kitchen and prepared some broth for Etta, and took it to her room." Margot replied without hesitation. "She could not eat and begged of me to go away and let her alone; the pain had made her acariãtre—how do you say? Of an ill humor. I returned to the kitchen for my own dinner and then went once more to Madame's apartments, where I arranged her bed for the night, laid out her gown and slippers and took some lingerie which required mending down to the servants' dining-room in the basement."
"At what time was this?"
"I do not know to the moment, Monsieur. It must have been between seven and eight o'clock."
"Did you enter the dressing-room?"
"But yes, Monsieur." Again she darted a glance at him. "For Madame's night-robe and slippers and also the lingerie and work-basket."
"All was in order then?"
"Of course, Monsieur." Her replies came more quickly with a rising inflection as of apprehension.
"Margot, at what hour did you return again to Mrs. Jams' apartments?" The Inspector demanded impressively.
Margot shrugged.
"I have not entered them again, Monsieur, since that hour. There was no need; I had made all ready for Madame's coming. The lingerie and work-basket are still in the basement dining-room; all the evening I remained there trying to sew but I was so uneasy about Madame that I could not finish my task. Then it grew late, I became alarmed, I went out into the garden for a breath of air and you found me, Monsieur. That is as I have told you."
Inspector Druet rose slowly.
"You are prepared to swear that you were in Mrs. Jams' dressing-room between seven and eight o'clock and left it at that hour undisturbed and in proper order?"
Margot drew herself up to her slim height and regarded him steadily.
"Yes, Monsieur. I do not know what it is that Monsieur's questions mean, but I swear that Madame's apartments were quite as usual when last I entered them, before eight o'clock this night."