Chapter V: A Telegram From Mexico

"Your deductions seem natural," said Mr. Mountjoy, at length. "But this unknown woman? Is there any one in the city to whom you could ascribe a motive? Will you have to go into the past record of Señor de Sanchez? And Fairchild--Heaven knows there can't be anything between him and such a mysterious, blood-thirsty female. How are we to account for his participation in the crime? I think it well to secure such a record; also De Sanchez's association with General Westbrook in Mexico. There is no telling how the darkness may be illuminated from some unexpected quarter. At present, John, to me it is completely baffling."

But Mr. Converse had neglected nothing that his experience suggested as being a likely means of casting light upon the crime.

"Yes, sir," he rejoined, in his steady manner. "Yes, sir; I admit the case offers many puzzling phases, and apparently contradictory circumstances; but you must remember that we have been at work on it less than twenty-four hours; the woman's identity may be shown in a manner we cannot now imagine, and any hour may bring the news of Fairchild's apprehension.

"Besides, I have been beforehand in looking up the deceased's past. I should receive a telegram from Mexico to-day. The net is well spread, I think. A man is watching Fairchild's house--in fact, the whole department are keeping a look-out for him; and the other actors are being shadowed by capable men."

"But from all the facts in your possession," interrupted Mr. Mountjoy, "have you considered the possibility--aside from the statements of the witnesses, I mean, and simply upon what you know to be the facts--of either Doctor Westbrook or Howard Lynden being the assassin?"

"Yes, sir, I have," was the reply. "But for the present we may dismiss them shortly, though I shall not cease to consider every development in this case in the light of its possible application to all the parties.

"Could the Doctor, then, have delivered the fatal thrust? From the present facts we must give him the benefit of the doubt, and abide the results of further investigation. It is very fortunate for him that his friend Howe happened to be present just when he was; and it is strange, his coming all the way from Georgia to be a piece in this puzzling game. But here he is.

"Howe's importance arises from the peculiar acoustics of that portion of the Nettleton Building about Doctor Westbrook's office." Converse then told of his experience with Lynden in the Doctor's laboratory, concluding: "It is not at all surprising that Howe could not hear a struggle in the hall, while, at the same time, he could hear such faint sounds as the scratching of a pen and the rustling of paper while the Doctor was writing in the reception-room.

"As for Lynden, we have to show he so quickened his pace that he overtook De Sanchez at Doctor Westbrook's door. He shared with all the frequenters of the Doctor's office a knowledge of the dagger and where it usually reposed. Under such a theory, however, Lynden's actions would have displayed a carelessness and a reckless disregard for consequences which I don't think the man capable of. He did not know who had or had not gone home from the other offices that line the hall, and the deceased was not surprised by the sudden onrush of a determined murderer. Had such been the case, how about Doctor Westbrook's statement that De Sanchez came on steadily to the reception-room door?--for, singularly enough, in the reception-room one can hear quite distinctly sounds arising in the hall. Besides, the Doctor does not remember having heard Lynden at all until the young man grasped his arm."

"Well, now, tell us of the cigarette stubs." This from the District Attorney.

Converse picked them both up, one in each hand, and contemplated them with uplifted brow and puckered lips.

"Gentlemen," he began at length, "these two snipes have caused me more mental worry--I have had more trouble in fitting them into any place where they could belong--than anything else concerning this case.

"You will observe that both of them are but half consumed, and that when rolled neither was moistened by the tongue to hold it together. Any one who has travelled in Mexico or the extreme Southwest will recognize this as a national and local characteristic. The paper of both is identical--coarse and a dark brown; and the tobacco is from a black Mexican growth. I suppose, outside the Mexican quarter you could not find a man in the city who smokes such a cigarette--excepting Vargas. It is just such a cigarette as nine out of ten of the lower class of Mexicans--men, women, and children--smoke. Yet the tastes of neither De Sanchez nor Vargas were too fastidious for them; the papers and tobacco are identical with those found in the deceased's pocket, and they are just like those Mr. Vargas smokes.

"The first I picked up near the top of the Nettleton Building stairway, while I was accompanying Lynden to Doctor Westbrook's offices; the second I found on the skylight at the bottom of the light-well. The ends that had been held in the mouth were still moist when I found them, so they had not been long discarded. De Sanchez, of course, is responsible for the first; but how about the other? Could he, after throwing one cigarette away at the point where I found the first, roll and light another and smoke it half up as he walked down the hall, then flip the second out the hall window into the light-well just before turning toward the Doctor's door? I believe not.

"The second could have come from any window abutting upon the light-well, of either the Field or the Nettleton Buildings. But who threw it, and why was he there at that particular time? Well, it took two men more than an hour this morning to eliminate all except five windows out of a possible twenty; and those five told nothing. I examined them myself. Yet it might be possible that the second stub came from the unknown woman.

"Did she steady her nerves and beguile the time until her victim's approach, with a cigarette? It may be--"

Here, for the first time, Mr. Merkel interrupted.

"A Mexican woman!" he fairly shouted; "some dark-eyed señorita--" His enthusiasm suddenly cooled as Mr. Mountjoy's look of surprise at his outburst rapidly changed to one of much meaning.

At this juncture the door opened, and a clerk appeared from the outer office, holding a telegram in his hand.

"For you, Captain," said he, handing him the message.

Neither of the other two could conceal his impatience, as, with annoying deliberation, Converse opened the yellow envelope.

"Well," said he, presently, "it is indeed from Mexico--the reply to my inquiry. Here it is." He read aloud:

A. de S. has no police record, but have obtained following facts: Age, 38; family, old, aristocratic, and very wealthy; A. educated in Paris; returned here when twenty-one. Was in banking and broking business several years ago with P. Westbrook, but severed partnership about four years ago. Reason not known. A. always prominent in society; rather wild when young; but nearest approach to woman entanglements are following: Engagement broken with Señorita Aurora de Pacheco. Understood to have been by reason of disagreement in marriage settlements. She has since married into prominent family, and now on best of terms with De S. family. A rumored liaison with a circus performer, supposed to have committed suicide, but unable to ascertain details; liaison with a Mme. Claude Le Tellier, now residing Nice, France, on pension from De S. family. For last twelve years A. de S. known as unusually steady. Rumored he fell in love with Miss Westbrook when she visited here about four years ago, and that he has followed her for purpose of marrying. GRINNELL.

"Well!" said the District Attorney, "this is not promising: Señorita Somebody"--with a sidewise look at Mr. Merkel--"now a matron and probably the mother of other señoritas; a circus performer--"

"It's the madame that interests me," Converse quietly broke in. "Grinnell would not, of course, know whether she is in Nice at the present time. I will go to headquarters, ascertain who our correspondent at that place is, and send him the lady's name. That should bring us what we want to know about her.

"That is about all now," he concluded. "I have gone over these different phases of the case in order that you might formulate a line of inquiry to be followed at the inquest. In the meantime, I will work out one or two little ideas of my own, laying the results before you as soon as they mature. Good morning."

That day Mr. Converse received two more messages, one of them a cable despatch. The first read:

Rumor connecting A. de S. with circus performer very vague. Seems to have occurred in Paris 17 or 18 years ago. No trace of her identity here. GRINNELL.

The cablegram contained the following:

Mme. C. Le T. died Oct. 28. GAILLARD.

He tossed the cable message to one side; but for several minutes he pondered over the second message from Mexico. He then prepared, with much care, a long despatch, which was sent immediately to Paris.

Away from the presence of his superiors and those whose concern it was to be put in possession of everything bearing upon the case, John Converse was the last man to advance any theory to account for Alberto de Sanchez's untoward end.

His seemingly unerring judgment and his uniform success in dissipating the clouds of mystery in which his associates sometimes lost themselves were governed by an extreme caution, and based upon a vast knowledge of humanity. His had been an unusually eventful life. Of New England parentage, he had early run away to sea; and to portray the stirring experiences of this period of his life would require a whole volume for itself.

But those experiences had given him wonderful powers of observation, which were able to grasp and contemplate every detail in its just proportions to the whole, a trait that was simply the complement to his unemotional and methodical temperament.

If he hesitated, however, in advancing theories, the papers did not,--either probable or improbable; and as it was one of his maxims never to ignore a suggestion coming from the outside, he followed these reports with the same intensity of eagerness that characterized all his proceedings.

The murder, owing not only to the prominence of every one concerned therein, but also to the suggestive veil of mystery which surrounded it, had been "featured" every day since the tragedy, and he was impressed by the unanimity with which the press hit upon Robert Nettleton's offices as the probable lurking-place of the murderer.

None of the papers, of course, was in as full possession of all the known facts as the Captain was; but a certain evening sheet, after theorizing at length on Fairchild's unaccountable disappearance, concluded with the assertion that the end would show the controlling factor of the mysterious murder to have been a woman.

"I believe that gentleman is eminently correct," was the Captain's comment, as he laid the paper aside. "If his insight had been only a little clearer, if he had looked only a little farther, and seen who that woman is, it would save a deal of trouble and worry."

He left his private office and walked to the mail repository at the police clerk's desk. He found several letters addressed to himself; but one, the writing of which was very like copper-plate engraving, caught his instant attention by the peculiarity of its address. It read:

For Detective on De Sanchez Case,
Police Headquarters,
City.

After the Captain had returned to his desk he turned his attention to this letter. The mark of the cancelling-machine showed that it had been mailed at the main post-office that morning. What the envelope contained made him suddenly sit upright.

The writer knows that C. Fairchild had no hand in the murder of the man De Sanchez. When you discover the female who was in the second story of the Nettleton on Wed. P.M., Nov. 4, at the hour of 5, you will know why C. F. has vanished.

Again--the unknown woman!

There was no address to this brief epistle, no date, no signature--nothing else; yet there was an added light in Mr. Converse's gray eyes, as he laid the missive on the desk before him, that lent something like an expression of satisfaction to his almost illegible countenance. He scrutinized the single sheet of paper long and attentively before finally folding and returning it to the envelope.

"Who in the city can write such a hand?" he mused.

After he had placed the anonymous missive in his pocket-book, he drew toward himself a number of bound typewritten sheets--the record of the De Sanchez case. Turning until he found the paragraphs he sought, he read the following:

Besides the front entrance, opening into Court Street, the Nettleton has but one other outside doorway or means of exit. Opening into a high-walled court in the rear is a single door, used only for the purpose of admitting fuel in the winter; during the summer it is open not more than once or twice, when the trash-bin accumulations are removed. During the interim it is locked by a bolt, a No. 4 Yale compound spring lock, and a common padlock passed through staples. Inspection of this door revealed beyond doubt that it had not been disturbed for weeks.

The reader turned back to the statements of the different persons in the second story at the fatal moment, and his glance passed them all over until it fell upon the following:

William Slade, 62; bachelor; abstracter of titles for the Guaranty Trust Co. Is very deaf; was engaged in his regular duties in Room 6 on the evening of Nov. 4, at 5 o'clock, yet it cannot be shown that he knew anything of the murder. His statement is to the effect that he first learned of it at about 8:30 o'clock that night.

He closed the volume, placed it in a drawer of his desk, and after securing his hat, left department headquarters, and made his way to Court Street.

Here he consumed the better part of the day by interrogating closely every individual whose place of business had an outlook toward the Nettleton entrance, a quest the results of which were purely negative. He called at all the newspaper offices; and the next morning, again in the evening, and for a week thereafter, every local paper contained the following advertisement:

+-----------------------------------------------------+
| $25--REWARD--$25. |
| |
| The above sum will be paid any person who saw |
| a lady leave the Nettleton Building at or about 5 |
| o'clock on the evening of Wednesday, Nov. 4th. |
| Apply in person at No. 18 Ash Lane. |
+-----------------------------------------------------+

The address given was that of the house where Mr. Converse had his lodgings; and whatever else he might think of the De Sanchez case, it was evident he had become convinced that there was "a woman at the bottom of it"--and one very hard to find.

Late in the afternoon, after he had returned to his private office, he found the reply to the cable message sent his Paris correspondent awaiting him. He opened it and read:

Nothing ascertainable of A. de S. here further than that his name appears on the roster of College of St. Ignatius for three years, inclusive, September, 1883, to September, 1886. Examination of records of women suicides during period fails to connect him with any of them. No one during that time or near it could be circus performer. Might glean something if I had name. NOIZET.

Unfortunately, he had no name to send.