Chapter II

Reaching the library, Bayliss found the Precinct Inspector busily going through the papers in Mr. Hemmingway’s desk. Inspector Garson had heard of the clever Bert Bayliss and was glad to meet him, though a little embarrassed lest the city detective should look upon his own methods as crude.

With the coroner’s permission the body of the dead man had been removed, but otherwise no changes had been made in the room. Bayliss glanced interestedly about. There were no signs of a struggle. The position of several chairs showed the presence of callers who had evidently sat around in conversation with their host. The desk, though not especially tidy, showed only the usual paraphernalia of a man of business.

By themselves, in an open box, had been laid the articles taken from the dead man’s pockets. Bayliss looked at, without touching, the watch, the bunch of keys, the knife, the pencil, the pile of small coins and the handkerchiefs, which, together with a few papers, comprised the contents of the box.

Then Bayliss looked swiftly but minutely at the desk. The fittings of handsome bronze were of uniform design and rather numerous. Every convenience was there, from pen-rack to paste-pot. There were a great variety of pens, pencils and paper-cutters, while many racks and files held a profusion of stationery, cards and letters.

Yet everything was methodical; the plainly labeled packets of letters, the carefully sorted bills and the neat memoranda here and there, all betokened a systematic mind and a sense of orderly classification.

“The motive was, of course, robbery,” said the Inspector, as several others followed Bayliss into the library, “for though everything else seems intact, a large bundle of securities, which Mr. Dunbar knows were in Mr. Hemmingway’s safe last Friday, are now gone.”

“Oh, those,” said George Fiske; “I didn’t know you looked on those as missing. I have them at my own rooms.”

“You have?” said the surprised Inspector. “Why did you not state that fact when interviewed by Mr. Spearman?”

“Because,” said the young man frankly, “I didn’t consider that the time or place to discuss Mr. Hemmingway’s finances. I was his confidential secretary, and though required to render an account at any time, I am careful not to do so prematurely. The bonds in question are at my home because Mr. Hemmingway gave them to me last Saturday to keep for him temporarily. Here is a list of them.”

* * * * *

Fiske took a card of figures from his pocket-book and handed it to the Inspector, who glanced at it with satisfaction and approval.

“You did quite right, Mr. Fiske,” he said, “and I’m glad the securities are safe. But then what in your opinion could have been the motive for the deed of last night?”

Fiske made no reply, but the expression on his face seemed to imply, against his will, that he could say something pertinent if he chose.

“Might it not be, Harris,” whispered Bayliss, “that that young man overestimates the confidentialness of his secretaryship at this crisis?”

“H’m,” said Harris.

Meanwhile the Inspector was rapidly looking over a sheaf of opened letters, each of which bore at its top the rubber-stamped date of receipt.

“Whew!” he whistled, as he read one of these documents. He then looked furtively at George Fiske, who was occupied with some clerical work which had to be done at once. Without a word Inspector Garson handed the letter to Bert Bayliss, signifying by a gesture that he was to read it.

After a glance at signature and date, Bayliss read the whole letter:

Sunday Afternoon,
September 9th.

My Dear Mr. Hemmingway:

After our talk of yesterday morning, I feel that I must
express more fully my appreciation of your declaration of
confidence in me, and my gratitude therefor. I was to
surprised when you asked me to act as executor of your
will that I fear I was awkward and disappointing in my
response. But, believe me, dear sir. I am deeply grateful
for your trust in me and I want to assure you that I will
perform all the duties of which you told me to the very
best of my ability, though I hope and pray the day is far
off when such need shall arise. I am not a fluent talker
and so take this means of telling you that a chord of my
nature was deeply touched when you asked me to assume such
a grave responsibility. I am, of course, at your service
for further discussion of these matters, but I felt I must
formally assure you of my gratitude for your kindness and
of my loyalty to your interests. As to the revelation you
made to me, it was so sudden and such a surprise, I can
not bear to think your suspicions are founded on the
truth; but as you requested, I will observe all I can
without seeming intrusive or curious. I have in safe
keeping the papers you entrusted to my care, and I hope
our present relations may continue for many happy years.

Faithfully yours,
George Fiske.

With his usual quick eye for details, Bayliss noted that the letter was dated two days before (that is, the day before the murder, which occurred Monday night); it was postmarked at the Clearbrook post-office Sunday-evening, and had therefore, been delivered to Mr. Hemmingway by the first post Monday morning. This was corroborated by the rubber-stamped line at the top of the first page, which read: “Received, September 10.”

The letter was among a lot labeled “To be answered,” and it seemed to Bayliss a very important document.

“I think,” he said aloud to the Inspector, “that we would be glad to have Mr. Fiske tell us the circumstances that led to the writing of this manly and straightforward letter.”

George Fiske looked up at the sound of his name. “Has that come to light?” he said, blushing a little at being thus suddenly brought into prominence. “I supposed it would, but somehow I didn’t want to refer to it until some one else discovered it.”

“Tell us all about it,” said Bayliss, in his pleasant, chummy way, and at once Fiske began.

“Last Saturday morning,” he said, “Mr. Hemmingway had a long talk with me. He expressed his satisfaction with my work as his secretary and kindly avowed his complete trust and confidence in my integrity. He then asked me if I would be willing to act as executor of his estate, when the time should come that such a service was necessary. He said it was his intention to bring the whole matter before his lawyer in a few days, but first he wished to be assured of my willingness to act as executor. He told me, too, that he would add a codicil to his will, leaving me a moderate sum of money. All of this was on Saturday morning, and when I left at noon, as I always do on Saturdays, he gave me a large bundle of securities, and also his will, asking me to keep them for him for a few days.”

“You have his will, then?” asked Inspector Garson quickly.

“I have; and also the bonds of which I have given you a memorandum. They are all at your disposal at any time.”

“Then Mr. Hemmingway died without adding the codicil to his will in your favor,” observed Bayliss.

“Yes,” replied Fiske, “but that is a minor matter in the face of the present tragedy.”

Bayliss felt slightly rebuked, but he couldn’t help admiring the manly way in which Fiske had spoken.

* * * * *

“And this conversation occurred on Saturday,” went on Mr. Garson. “You took occasion to write to Mr. Hemmingway on Sunday?”

“I did,” agreed Fiske. “I was so surprised at the whole thing that I was unable to express myself at our interview. I am always tongue-tied under stress of great surprise or excitement. So I sat down Sunday afternoon and wrote to Mr. Hemmingway. I mailed the letter Sunday evening and he had already received it when I reached here on Monday morning, at ten o’clock, as usual.”

“Did he refer to your letter?” asked Bayliss.

“Yes; he said he was glad I wrote it, and that he would answer it on paper that I might also have his sentiments in black and white. Then he said we would discuss the matter more fully after a day or two, and we then turned our attention to other matters.”

“And this revelation he made to you?” queried Inspector Garson, running his eyes over the letter.

Mr. Fiske hesitated and looked not only embarrassed but genuinely disturbed.

“That, Mr. Garson, I want to be excused from telling.”

“Excused from telling! Why, man, it may help to elucidate the mystery of Mr. Hemmingway’s death!”

“Oh, I hope not, I hope not!” said Fiske, so earnestly that both Bayliss and the Inspector looked at him in surprise.

“You _do_ know something,” said Mr. Garson quickly, “that may have a bearing on the mystery, and I must insist that you tell it.”

“It is because it may _seem_ to have a bearing that I hesitate,” said Mr. Fiske gravely. “But, to put it boldly, as I told you I am not fluent under stress of excitement; in a word, then, Mr. Hemmingway implied to me, that—that he had a half-defined fear that sometime his life might—might end suddenly.”

“In the way it did?”

“Yes, in that way. He feared that some one desired his death, and that was the reason he asked me to care for his will and his valuable securities for a few days.”

“Why were these things not in a safety deposit vault?” asked Bert Bayliss.

“They have been; but a few days ago Mr. Hemmingway had them brought home to make some records and changes, and as it was Saturday he could not send them back then, so he gave them to me. I have a small safe at home, and of course I was willing to keep them for him.”

“Then Mr. Hemmingway feared both robbery and murder,” said Bayliss, and Mr. Fiske shuddered at this cold-blooded way of putting it.

“Yes, he did,” said the secretary frankly.

“And whom did he suspect as his enemy?”

“That I hope you will allow me not to answer.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fiske,” broke in the Inspector, “but you have knowledge possessed by no one else. You must, therefore, in the interests of justice, tell us the name of the man whom Mr. Hemmingway feared.”

“The man,”said George Fiske slowly, “is the one who inherits the bulk of Mr. Hemmingway’s fortune.”

“Everett Collins, his nephew?”

“His wife’s nephew,” corrected George Fiske. “Yes, since I am forced to tell it, Mr. Hemmingway feared that Mr. Collins was in haste to come into his inheritance, and—and——”

“You have done your duty, Mr. Fiske,” said Inspector Garson, “and I thank you. I quite appreciate your hesitancy, but a crime like this must be punished, if possible, and you need not appear further in the matter. After your evidence the law can take the whole affair into its own hands, and justice will be swift and certain.”