The Red Seal [27]
a personal interest in the dead man, the majority had been attracted by morbid curiosity. There was a stir among the spectators as an inner door opened and the jury, led by the morgue master filed into the room and took their places. Coroner Penfield rose and addressed the foreman.
"Have you viewed the body?" he inquired.
"Yes, doctor," and the man sat down.
Coroner Penfield then concisely stated the reason for the inquest and summoned Officer O'Ryan to the witness stand. The policeman stood, cap in hand, while being sworn by the morgue master, and then took his place on the platform in the chair reserved for the witnesses.
His answer to Coroner Penfield's questions relative to his name, residence in Washington, and length of service in the city Police Force were given with brevity and a rich Irish brogue.
"Where were you on Tuesday morning at about five o'clock?" asked Penfield, first consulting some memoranda on his desk.
"On my way home," explained O'Ryan. My relief had just come."
"Does your beat take in the McIntyre residence? "
"It does, sir."
"Did you observe any one loitering in the vicinity of the residence prior to five o'clock, Tuesday morning?"
"No, sir. It was only when the lady called to me that I was attracted to the house."
"Did she state what was the matter?"
"Yes, sir. She said that she had locked a burglar in a closet, and to come and get him, and I did so," and O'Ryan expanded his chest with an air of satisfaction as be glanced about the morgue.
"Did the burglar resist arrest?"
"No, sir; he came very peaceably and not a word out of him."
"Had you any idea that the burglar was not what he seemed?"
"Devil an idea, begging your pardon - O'Ryan remembered hastily where he was. "The burglar looked the part he was masquerading, and his make-up was perfect," ended O'Ryan with relish. "Never gave me a hint he was a gentleman and a bank cashier in disguise."
Kent, who had arrived at the morgue a few minutes before the policeman commenced his testimony, smiled in spite of himself. He was feeling exceedingly low spirited, and had come to the inquest with inward foreboding as to its result. On what developed there, he Was convinced, hung Jimmie Turnbull's good name. After his interview with Detective Ferguson that morning, he had wired Philip Rochester to return to Washington at once. He had requested an immediate reply, and had fully expected to find a telegram at his office when he stopped there on his way to the morgue, but none had come.
"Whom did you see in the McIntyre house?" the coroner asked O'Ryan.
"No one sir, except the burglar and Miss McIntyre."
"Did you find any doors or windows unlocked?"
"No, sir; I never looked to see."
"Why not?"
"Because the young lady said that she had been over the house and everything was then fastened." O'Ryan looked anxiously at the coroner. Would he make him out derelict in his duty? It would seriously affect his standing on the Force. "I took Miss McIntyre's word for the house, for I had the burglar safe under arrest."
"How did Miss McIntyre appear?"
"Appear? Sure, she looked very sweet in her blue wrapper and her hair down her back," answered O'Ryan with emphasis.
"She was not fully dressed then?"
"No, sir."
"Was Miss McIntyre composed in manner or did she appear frightened?" asked Penfield. It was one of the questions which Kent had expected, and he waited with intense interest for the policeman's reply.
"She was very pale and - and breathless like." O'Ryan flapped his arms about vaguely in his endeavor to demonstrate his meaning. "She kept begging me to hurry and get the burglar out of the house, and after telling her that she would have to appear in the Police Court first thing that morning, I went off with the prisoner."
"Were there lights in the house?" questioned Penfield.
"Only dim ones in the halls and two bulbs turned on in the library; it's a big room though, and they hardly made any light at all," explained O'Ryan; he was particular as to details.
"Have you viewed the body?" he inquired.
"Yes, doctor," and the man sat down.
Coroner Penfield then concisely stated the reason for the inquest and summoned Officer O'Ryan to the witness stand. The policeman stood, cap in hand, while being sworn by the morgue master, and then took his place on the platform in the chair reserved for the witnesses.
His answer to Coroner Penfield's questions relative to his name, residence in Washington, and length of service in the city Police Force were given with brevity and a rich Irish brogue.
"Where were you on Tuesday morning at about five o'clock?" asked Penfield, first consulting some memoranda on his desk.
"On my way home," explained O'Ryan. My relief had just come."
"Does your beat take in the McIntyre residence? "
"It does, sir."
"Did you observe any one loitering in the vicinity of the residence prior to five o'clock, Tuesday morning?"
"No, sir. It was only when the lady called to me that I was attracted to the house."
"Did she state what was the matter?"
"Yes, sir. She said that she had locked a burglar in a closet, and to come and get him, and I did so," and O'Ryan expanded his chest with an air of satisfaction as be glanced about the morgue.
"Did the burglar resist arrest?"
"No, sir; he came very peaceably and not a word out of him."
"Had you any idea that the burglar was not what he seemed?"
"Devil an idea, begging your pardon - O'Ryan remembered hastily where he was. "The burglar looked the part he was masquerading, and his make-up was perfect," ended O'Ryan with relish. "Never gave me a hint he was a gentleman and a bank cashier in disguise."
Kent, who had arrived at the morgue a few minutes before the policeman commenced his testimony, smiled in spite of himself. He was feeling exceedingly low spirited, and had come to the inquest with inward foreboding as to its result. On what developed there, he Was convinced, hung Jimmie Turnbull's good name. After his interview with Detective Ferguson that morning, he had wired Philip Rochester to return to Washington at once. He had requested an immediate reply, and had fully expected to find a telegram at his office when he stopped there on his way to the morgue, but none had come.
"Whom did you see in the McIntyre house?" the coroner asked O'Ryan.
"No one sir, except the burglar and Miss McIntyre."
"Did you find any doors or windows unlocked?"
"No, sir; I never looked to see."
"Why not?"
"Because the young lady said that she had been over the house and everything was then fastened." O'Ryan looked anxiously at the coroner. Would he make him out derelict in his duty? It would seriously affect his standing on the Force. "I took Miss McIntyre's word for the house, for I had the burglar safe under arrest."
"How did Miss McIntyre appear?"
"Appear? Sure, she looked very sweet in her blue wrapper and her hair down her back," answered O'Ryan with emphasis.
"She was not fully dressed then?"
"No, sir."
"Was Miss McIntyre composed in manner or did she appear frightened?" asked Penfield. It was one of the questions which Kent had expected, and he waited with intense interest for the policeman's reply.
"She was very pale and - and breathless like." O'Ryan flapped his arms about vaguely in his endeavor to demonstrate his meaning. "She kept begging me to hurry and get the burglar out of the house, and after telling her that she would have to appear in the Police Court first thing that morning, I went off with the prisoner."
"Were there lights in the house?" questioned Penfield.
"Only dim ones in the halls and two bulbs turned on in the library; it's a big room though, and they hardly made any light at all," explained O'Ryan; he was particular as to details.