The Red Seal [18]
"The first thing was to establish that a crime had really been committed."
Kent bent down and sniffed again at the handkerchief to which a faint fruity aroma still clung.
"How did you discover that?" he asked.
"Dr. McLane and I took the handkerchief to a laboratory and the chemist found from the number of particles of capsules in the handkerchief, that at least two capsules - or double the usual dose - had been crushed by Turnbull and the fumes inhaled by him; with fatal results."
"Hold on," cautioned Kent. "In the flurry of the moment, Turnbull may have accidentally put two capsules in the handkerchief, meaning only to use one."
"Mr. Kent," the detective spoke impressively, "that wasn't Turnbull's handkerchief."
"Not his own handkerchief!" exclaimed Kent. "Then, are you sure that Turnbull used it?"
"Yes; that fact is established by reputable witnesses; Dr. Stone, Mr. Clymer, and the deputy marshal," Ferguson spoke with increasing earnestness. "That is a woman's handkerchief - look at it."
Ferguson laid the little bundle on the broad arm of Kent's chair and with infinite care folded back the edges of the handkerchief, revealing as he did so, the small particles of capsules still clinging to the linen. But Kent hardly observed the capsules, his entire attention being centered on one corner of the handkerchief, which had neatly embroidered on it the letter "B."
CHAPTER VI
STRAIGHT QUESTIONS AND CROOKED ANSWERS
Colonel McIntyre, with an angry gesture, threw down the newspaper he had been reading.
"Do you mean to say, Helen, that you decline to go to the supper to-night on account of the death of Jimmie 'Turnbull?" he asked.
"Yes, father."
McIntyre flushed a dark red; he was not accustomed to scenes with either of his daughters, and here was Helen flouting his authority and Barbara backing her up.
"It is quite time this pretense is dropped," he remarked stiffly. "You were not engaged to Jimmie - wait," as she attempted to interrupt him. "You told me the night of the burglary that he was nothing to you.'"
"I was mistaken," Helen's voice shook, she was very near to tears. "When I saw Jimmie lying there, dead" - she faltered, and her shoulders drooped forlornly -" the world stopped for me."
"Hysterical nonsense!" McIntyre was careful to avoid Barbara's eyes; her indignant snort had been indicative of her feelings. "Keep to your room, Helen, until you regain some common sense. It is as well our friends should not see you in your present frame of mind."
Helen regarded her father under lowered lids. "Very well," she said submissively and walked toward the door; on reaching it she paused, and spoke over her shoulder. "Don't try me too far, father."
McIntyre stared for a full minute at the doorway through which Helen took her departure.
"Well, what the -" He pulled himself up short in the middle of the ejaculation and turned to Barbara. "Go and get dressed," he directed. "We must leave here in twenty minutes."
"I am not going," she announced.
"Not going!" McIntyre frowned, then laughed abruptly. "Now, don't tell me you were engaged to Jimmie Turnbull, also."
"I think you are horrid!" Barbara's small foot came down with a vigorous stamp.
"Well, perhaps I am," her father admitted rather wearily. "Don't keep us waiting, Babs; the car will be here in less than twenty minutes."
"But, father, I prefer to stay at home."
And I prefer to have you accompany us," retorted McIntyre. "Come, Barbara, we cannot be discourteous to Mrs. Brewster; she is our guest, and this supper is for her entertainment."
"Well, take her." Barbara was openly rebellious.
"Barbara!" His tone caused her to look at him in wonder; instead of the stern rebuke she expected, his voice was almost wheedling. "I cannot very well take Mrs. Brewster to a caf at this hour without causing gossip."
"Oh, fiddle-sticks!" exclaimed Barbara. "I don't have to play chaperon for you two. Every one knows she is visiting us; what's there improper in your taking her out to supper? Why"
Kent bent down and sniffed again at the handkerchief to which a faint fruity aroma still clung.
"How did you discover that?" he asked.
"Dr. McLane and I took the handkerchief to a laboratory and the chemist found from the number of particles of capsules in the handkerchief, that at least two capsules - or double the usual dose - had been crushed by Turnbull and the fumes inhaled by him; with fatal results."
"Hold on," cautioned Kent. "In the flurry of the moment, Turnbull may have accidentally put two capsules in the handkerchief, meaning only to use one."
"Mr. Kent," the detective spoke impressively, "that wasn't Turnbull's handkerchief."
"Not his own handkerchief!" exclaimed Kent. "Then, are you sure that Turnbull used it?"
"Yes; that fact is established by reputable witnesses; Dr. Stone, Mr. Clymer, and the deputy marshal," Ferguson spoke with increasing earnestness. "That is a woman's handkerchief - look at it."
Ferguson laid the little bundle on the broad arm of Kent's chair and with infinite care folded back the edges of the handkerchief, revealing as he did so, the small particles of capsules still clinging to the linen. But Kent hardly observed the capsules, his entire attention being centered on one corner of the handkerchief, which had neatly embroidered on it the letter "B."
CHAPTER VI
STRAIGHT QUESTIONS AND CROOKED ANSWERS
Colonel McIntyre, with an angry gesture, threw down the newspaper he had been reading.
"Do you mean to say, Helen, that you decline to go to the supper to-night on account of the death of Jimmie 'Turnbull?" he asked.
"Yes, father."
McIntyre flushed a dark red; he was not accustomed to scenes with either of his daughters, and here was Helen flouting his authority and Barbara backing her up.
"It is quite time this pretense is dropped," he remarked stiffly. "You were not engaged to Jimmie - wait," as she attempted to interrupt him. "You told me the night of the burglary that he was nothing to you.'"
"I was mistaken," Helen's voice shook, she was very near to tears. "When I saw Jimmie lying there, dead" - she faltered, and her shoulders drooped forlornly -" the world stopped for me."
"Hysterical nonsense!" McIntyre was careful to avoid Barbara's eyes; her indignant snort had been indicative of her feelings. "Keep to your room, Helen, until you regain some common sense. It is as well our friends should not see you in your present frame of mind."
Helen regarded her father under lowered lids. "Very well," she said submissively and walked toward the door; on reaching it she paused, and spoke over her shoulder. "Don't try me too far, father."
McIntyre stared for a full minute at the doorway through which Helen took her departure.
"Well, what the -" He pulled himself up short in the middle of the ejaculation and turned to Barbara. "Go and get dressed," he directed. "We must leave here in twenty minutes."
"I am not going," she announced.
"Not going!" McIntyre frowned, then laughed abruptly. "Now, don't tell me you were engaged to Jimmie Turnbull, also."
"I think you are horrid!" Barbara's small foot came down with a vigorous stamp.
"Well, perhaps I am," her father admitted rather wearily. "Don't keep us waiting, Babs; the car will be here in less than twenty minutes."
"But, father, I prefer to stay at home."
And I prefer to have you accompany us," retorted McIntyre. "Come, Barbara, we cannot be discourteous to Mrs. Brewster; she is our guest, and this supper is for her entertainment."
"Well, take her." Barbara was openly rebellious.
"Barbara!" His tone caused her to look at him in wonder; instead of the stern rebuke she expected, his voice was almost wheedling. "I cannot very well take Mrs. Brewster to a caf at this hour without causing gossip."
"Oh, fiddle-sticks!" exclaimed Barbara. "I don't have to play chaperon for you two. Every one knows she is visiting us; what's there improper in your taking her out to supper? Why"