"They both acted mighty peculiarly," agreed Carroll. "One of them, I'm sure, knows something about that case--has some inside dope on it. And the one who knew has told the other one--the affection between them is something pretty to look at, Leverage."
"You think one of them is in on the know?"
"Yes, I think so. And I think that their information touches someone pretty close to them. That's obviously why they pleaded so hard with me to call off the investigation."
"M-m-m--They're pretty good friends to the Lawrences, aren't they!"
"Yes--with Naomi Lawrence, anyway. I don't believe Gerald Lawrence is especially friendly with anyone. But the Greshams and Mrs. Lawrence are pretty intimate."
"And you believe that the alibi Miss Rogers established for Hazel Gresham is good?"
Carroll hesitated a moment before replying. When he did speak it was with obvious reluctance: "I hate to say so, Leverage--because I like Evelyn Rogers and I took an instant liking to both Hazel Gresham and her brother. But there seems to be something wrong about it. I do think that Evelyn Rogers believed she was telling the truth--but I'm not so sure that her dope was accurate. Just where the inaccuracy comes--I haven't the least idea--but I'm not letting my likes and dislikes stand in the way of a sane outlook on the case. I am convinced that both the young Greshams know something more than they have told. As a matter of fact, there isn't a doubt of it--they showed it clearly when they begged me to call off the investigation. We know further that they are intimate with Naomi Lawrence--and we know that either Naomi or her husband--or both--are mixed up in this case. Events dovetail too perfectly for us to ignore the fact that however right Evelyn Rogers may believe she is--she may be wrong!"
"And I'm not forgetting, either--" said Leverage grimly, "that Hazel Gresham was engaged to marry Warren!"
"No. Nor am I. It's a puzzling combination of circ.u.mstances, Leverage: a perfectly knit thing--if we don't--and so now we come to Gerald Lawrence and his wife."
Leverage did not take his cue immediately. He sat drumming a heavy tattoo on the tabletop, forehead corrugated in a frown of intensive thought.
When he did speak it was in a manner well-nigh abstract--
"Gerald Lawrence probably lied when he said he didn't leave Nashville until the two a.m. train."
"He may have. One thing which impressed me about Lawrence was this, Leverage--when the man started bucking me he thought he had a perfect alibi. He was supremely confident that I was going to be completely nonplussed. It was only after I had questioned him closely that he realized his alibi was no alibi at all. He realized he couldn't prove where he was at the time the murder was committed--that for all the evidence he could adduce he might have been right here in this city."
"Yes--?"
"The significant fact is this," explained Carroll--"when he made the discovery that his alibi was no good--_he_ was the most surprised person in the room!"
"And you're thinking," suggested the Chief, "that if he had actually had a hand in the murder of Warren he would have had an alibi that would have been an alibi?"
"Just about that. Get me straight, Chief--I would rather believe Lawrence guilty than any other person--except perhaps Barker--with whom I have come in contact since this investigation began. He has one of the most unpleasant personalities I have ever known. He is a congenital grouch.
But he told his Nashville story so frankly--and then became so panicky with surprise when my questioning showed him that his alibi was rotten--that we must not fasten definitely upon him--"
"--Except to be pretty darn sure that he knows more about it than he has told."
"Yes. Perhaps."
"Perhaps. Ain't you sure he does?"
"I'm not sure of anything. I haven't one single item of information save that regarding the one person whom I would prefer to see left clear."
"And that is?"
"Mrs. Naomi Lawrence."
Leverage nodded agreement. "Things do look pretty tough for her."
"More so than you think, Eric." Carroll designated on his fingers, "Count the facts against her as we know them: irrespective of their weight or significance.
"First, she is a beautiful woman, twelve years younger than her husband and very unhappy in her domestic life. Second, she was very friendly with Roland Warren. Of course, Miss Rogers' fatuous belief that Warren was crazy about her is pure rot: he called at that house to see either Gerald or Naomi Lawrence. We must admit that the chances are the woman was the person in whom he was interested. Third, in substantiation of that belief we know that he frequently gave her presents. It doesn't matter how valuable the presents were--he gave them. That proves a certain amount of interest."
Carroll paused for a brief explanation. "Mind you, Leverage--I'm not trying to make out a case against Naomi Lawrence--I'm only being honest.
To continue--fourth, we know that in spite of the fact that she is afraid to remain in a house alone at night, she suggested that her sister visit at the home of Hazel Gresham on the night Warren was killed. Her husband was supposed--according to his story--to be in Nashville. It is absurd to presume that when she let Evelyn go out for the night she expected to remain alone until morning. Therefore, for the sake of argument, we will a.s.sume that she knew her husband would be back that night. If that is the case--we are also forced to believe that there was something sinister about it.
"Fifth--we are fairly positive that she packed a suit-case the morning before the murder, that the suit-case left the house that morning and that two days later it mysteriously reappeared--"
"Yes," interrupted Leverage, "and we know that Warren was planning to make a trip with someone else!"
"Exactly!"
"Which makes it pretty clear," finished Leverage positively, "that Mrs.
Lawrence was the woman in the taxicab!"
CHAPTER XVII
BARKER ACCUSES
The men looked at each other in silence for a minute. Leverage was sorry for Carroll--sorry because he knew that Carroll was disappointed, that the boyish detective had hoped against hope that the trail would lead to some person other than the flaming creature who was Gerald Lawrence's wife.
It was not that Carroll had become infatuated with her. It was merely that he liked her--liked her sincerely--and was sorry for her.
The conclusions to be inevitably reached from the premise that Naomi was the woman in the taxicab were none too pleasant. In the first place there was the matter of morals involved. It had been pretty well established that the dead man had planned a trip to New York with someone: there was the fact that he had purchased a drawing room and two railroad tickets--only one of which later had been found in his pockets at midnight that night.
Then there was the circ.u.mstance of Mrs. Lawrence packing her suit-case and taking it, or sending it, from the house during the day--and its reappearance a couple of days later. It also explained her willingness that Evelyn spend the night with Hazel Gresham. Knowing that she, Naomi, was going to leave her home before midnight, she had not wanted her youthful sister to spend the balance of the night alone--and so had sent her to the house of a friend. That much was clear--
"It's h.e.l.l!" burst out Carroll.
"You said it."
"Suppose she _was_ the woman in the taxicab--?"
"Yes--suppose she was: it doesn't prove that she killed Warren?"
"No--but it proves something a good deal worse, Leverage. It proves that she was going to elope with him."
"It may--we don't _know_!"
"We don't _know_ anything. But there is a certain logic which is irrefutable--and, confound it! man--what are we going to do now?"
Leverage refused to meet his friend's eyes. "We-e-ll, David--suppose you tell me what _you_ think we should do?"
"We ought to--but it's rotten! Absolutely rotten!"
"Trouble with you, David," said Leverage kindly--"is that you're too d.a.m.ned human!"