The Red Seal [66]
shoulders disdainfully. "My daughters, as children, used to play hide and seek inside the casket with each new governess."
Ferguson stepped forward briskly. "Mr. Kent, let me see if I can lift you inside the casket; make yourself limp - that's it!" as Kent, entering into the investigation heart and soul, relaxed his muscles and fell back against the detective.
A moment later he was swung upward and pushed head-first inside the casket and the door closed. The air, though close, was not unpleasant and Kent, his eyes growing gradually accustomed to the dark interior, tried to discover the trap door at the top of the box but without success. Putting out his hands he felt along the top. The height of the casket did not permit him to sit up, so he was obliged to slide his body down toward his feet to feel along the sides of the casket. This maneuver soon brought his knees in violent contact with the top, and at the sound Ferguson opened the door and assisted him out.
"Had enough of it?" he asked, viewing Kent's reddened cheeks with faint amusement. "I wonder if Grimes could breathe in there for any lengthy period. If so, it would help establish the time which elapsed between his being incarcerated and your finding him, Colonel."
"How so?" demanded McIntyre.
"Well, if he couldn't get air and you hadn't discovered him at once, he'd have died," explained Ferguson. "If you did find him immediately the person who knocked him down must have made a lightning escape."
"Air does get in the casket in some way," broke in Kent. "It wasn't so bad inside. Colonel McIntyre," Kent stopped a moment to remove a piece of red sealing wax clinging to the cuff of his suit. It had not been there when he entered the casket. Kent dropped the wax in his vest pocket as he again addressed his host. "Who first discovered Grimes in the casket?"
"Mrs. Brewster."
"And what was Mrs. Brewster doing in the library at that hour?" glancing keenly at McIntyre as he put the question.
"She could not sleep and came down for a book," explained the Colonel.
Ferguson, who had walked several times around the library, looking behind first one and then the other of the seven doors, paused to ask:
"What attracted Mrs. Brewster's attention to the casket?"
"The blood stain on its side," McIntyre answered.
"What - that!" Ferguson eyed McIntyre incredulously. "Come, sir, do you mean to tell me she noticed that little bit of a stain in a dark room?"
"She had an electric torch," shortly.
"But why should she turn the torch on this casket?" persisted the detective. "She came to the library for a book, and the bookcases are in another part of the room."
"Quite so, but the book she wished was lying on the top of this casket," replied McIntyre, meeting their level looks with one equally steadfast. "I know because I left the book there."
Ferguson glanced from McIntyre to Kent and back again at the Colonel in non-plussed silence. The explanation was pat.
"I'd like to talk with Mrs. Brewster," he remarked dryly.
"Certainly." McIntyre pressed an electric button. The summons was answered immediately by the new servant, Murray. "Ask Mrs. Brewster if she can see Detective Ferguson in the library, Murray," McIntyre directed.
"Beg pardon, sir, but Mrs. Brewster has just gone out," and with a bow Murray withdrew.
Kent, who had drawn forward a chair preparatory to sitting down and participating in the interview with the widow, changed his mind.
"I must leave at once," he said, after consulting his watch. "Please inform Mrs. Brewster, Colonel, that I will be in my office this afternoon, and I expect her to make me the visit she postponed this morning. Ferguson," turning back to address the detective, "you'll find me at the Saratoga for the next hour. Good morning," and paying no attention to Colonel McIntyre's request to remain, he left the room.
There was no one in the hall and Kent debated a moment whether or not to ring for the servant and ask to see Barbara, but, at sight of the hall table, Grimes'
Ferguson stepped forward briskly. "Mr. Kent, let me see if I can lift you inside the casket; make yourself limp - that's it!" as Kent, entering into the investigation heart and soul, relaxed his muscles and fell back against the detective.
A moment later he was swung upward and pushed head-first inside the casket and the door closed. The air, though close, was not unpleasant and Kent, his eyes growing gradually accustomed to the dark interior, tried to discover the trap door at the top of the box but without success. Putting out his hands he felt along the top. The height of the casket did not permit him to sit up, so he was obliged to slide his body down toward his feet to feel along the sides of the casket. This maneuver soon brought his knees in violent contact with the top, and at the sound Ferguson opened the door and assisted him out.
"Had enough of it?" he asked, viewing Kent's reddened cheeks with faint amusement. "I wonder if Grimes could breathe in there for any lengthy period. If so, it would help establish the time which elapsed between his being incarcerated and your finding him, Colonel."
"How so?" demanded McIntyre.
"Well, if he couldn't get air and you hadn't discovered him at once, he'd have died," explained Ferguson. "If you did find him immediately the person who knocked him down must have made a lightning escape."
"Air does get in the casket in some way," broke in Kent. "It wasn't so bad inside. Colonel McIntyre," Kent stopped a moment to remove a piece of red sealing wax clinging to the cuff of his suit. It had not been there when he entered the casket. Kent dropped the wax in his vest pocket as he again addressed his host. "Who first discovered Grimes in the casket?"
"Mrs. Brewster."
"And what was Mrs. Brewster doing in the library at that hour?" glancing keenly at McIntyre as he put the question.
"She could not sleep and came down for a book," explained the Colonel.
Ferguson, who had walked several times around the library, looking behind first one and then the other of the seven doors, paused to ask:
"What attracted Mrs. Brewster's attention to the casket?"
"The blood stain on its side," McIntyre answered.
"What - that!" Ferguson eyed McIntyre incredulously. "Come, sir, do you mean to tell me she noticed that little bit of a stain in a dark room?"
"She had an electric torch," shortly.
"But why should she turn the torch on this casket?" persisted the detective. "She came to the library for a book, and the bookcases are in another part of the room."
"Quite so, but the book she wished was lying on the top of this casket," replied McIntyre, meeting their level looks with one equally steadfast. "I know because I left the book there."
Ferguson glanced from McIntyre to Kent and back again at the Colonel in non-plussed silence. The explanation was pat.
"I'd like to talk with Mrs. Brewster," he remarked dryly.
"Certainly." McIntyre pressed an electric button. The summons was answered immediately by the new servant, Murray. "Ask Mrs. Brewster if she can see Detective Ferguson in the library, Murray," McIntyre directed.
"Beg pardon, sir, but Mrs. Brewster has just gone out," and with a bow Murray withdrew.
Kent, who had drawn forward a chair preparatory to sitting down and participating in the interview with the widow, changed his mind.
"I must leave at once," he said, after consulting his watch. "Please inform Mrs. Brewster, Colonel, that I will be in my office this afternoon, and I expect her to make me the visit she postponed this morning. Ferguson," turning back to address the detective, "you'll find me at the Saratoga for the next hour. Good morning," and paying no attention to Colonel McIntyre's request to remain, he left the room.
There was no one in the hall and Kent debated a moment whether or not to ring for the servant and ask to see Barbara, but, at sight of the hall table, Grimes'