Within the Law [101]
them.
"You ought to know," she said, sedately, "since you have arrested him, and he has confessed."
Demarest put up a hand to conceal his smile over the police official's chagrin. Gilder, staring always at this woman who had come to be his Nemesis, was marveling over the beauty and verve of the one so hating him as to plan the ruin of his life and his son's.
Burke was frantic over being worsted thus. To gain a diversion, he reverted to his familiar bullying tactics. His question burst raspingly. It was a question that had come to be constant within his brain during the last few hours, one that obsessed him, that fretted him sorely, almost beyond endurance.
"Who shot Griggs?" he shouted.
Mary rested serene in the presence of this violence. Her answer capped the climax of the officer's exasperation.
"My husband shot a burglar," she said, languidly. And then her insolence reached its culmination in a query of her own: "Was his name Griggs?" It was done with splendid art, with a splendid mastery of her own emotions, for, even as she spoke the words, she was remembering those shuddering seconds when she had stood, only a few hours ago, gazing down at the inert bulk that had been a man.
Burke betook himself to another form of attack.
"Oh, you know better than that," he declared, truculently. "You see, we've traced the Maxim silencer. Garson himself bought it up in Hartford."
For the first time, Mary was caught off her guard.
"But he told me----" she began, then became aware of her indiscretion, and checked herself.
Burke seized on her lapse with avidity.
"What did he tell you?" he questioned, eagerly.
Now, Mary had regained her self-command, and she spoke calmly.
"He told me," she said, without a particle of hesitation, "that he had never seen one. Surely, if he had had anything of the sort, he would have shown it to me then."
"Probably he did, too!" Burke rejoined, without the least suspicion that his surly utterance touched the truth exactly. "Now, see here," he went on, trying to make his voice affable, though with small success, for he was excessively irritated by these repeated failures; "I can make it a lot easier for you if you'll talk. Come on, now! Who killed Griggs?"
Mary cast off pretense finally, and spoke malignantly.
"That's for you to find out," she said, sneering.
Burke pressed the button on the desk, and, when the doorman appeared, ordered that the prisoner be returned to her cell.
But Mary stood rebellious, and spoke with a resumption of her cynical scorn.
"I suppose," she said, with a glance of contempt toward Demarest, "that it's useless for me to claim my constitutional rights, and demand to see a lawyer?"
Burke, too, had cast off pretense at last.
"Yes," he agreed, with an evil smirk, "you've guessed it right, the first time."
Mary spoke to the District Attorney.
"I believe," she said, with a new dignity of bearing, "that such is my constitutional right, is it not, Mr. Demarest?"
The lawyer sought no evasion of the issue. For that matter, he was coming to have an increasing respect, even admiration, for this young woman, who endured insult and ignominy with a spirit so sturdy, and met strategem with other strategem better devised. So, now, he made his answer with frank honesty.
"It is your constitutional right, Miss Turner."
Mary turned her clear eyes on the Inspector, and awaited from that official a reply that was not forthcoming. Truth to tell, Burke was far from comfortable under that survey.
"Well, Inspector?" she inquired, at last.
Burke took refuge, as his wont was when too hard pressed, in a mighty bellow.
"The Constitution don't go here!" It was the best he could do, and it shamed him, for he knew its weakness. Again, wrath surged in him, and it surged high. He welcomed the advent of Cassidy, who came hurrying in with a grin of satisfaction on his stolid face.
"Say, Chief," the detective said with animation, in response to Burke's glance of inquiry, "we've got Garson."
Mary's face fell,
"You ought to know," she said, sedately, "since you have arrested him, and he has confessed."
Demarest put up a hand to conceal his smile over the police official's chagrin. Gilder, staring always at this woman who had come to be his Nemesis, was marveling over the beauty and verve of the one so hating him as to plan the ruin of his life and his son's.
Burke was frantic over being worsted thus. To gain a diversion, he reverted to his familiar bullying tactics. His question burst raspingly. It was a question that had come to be constant within his brain during the last few hours, one that obsessed him, that fretted him sorely, almost beyond endurance.
"Who shot Griggs?" he shouted.
Mary rested serene in the presence of this violence. Her answer capped the climax of the officer's exasperation.
"My husband shot a burglar," she said, languidly. And then her insolence reached its culmination in a query of her own: "Was his name Griggs?" It was done with splendid art, with a splendid mastery of her own emotions, for, even as she spoke the words, she was remembering those shuddering seconds when she had stood, only a few hours ago, gazing down at the inert bulk that had been a man.
Burke betook himself to another form of attack.
"Oh, you know better than that," he declared, truculently. "You see, we've traced the Maxim silencer. Garson himself bought it up in Hartford."
For the first time, Mary was caught off her guard.
"But he told me----" she began, then became aware of her indiscretion, and checked herself.
Burke seized on her lapse with avidity.
"What did he tell you?" he questioned, eagerly.
Now, Mary had regained her self-command, and she spoke calmly.
"He told me," she said, without a particle of hesitation, "that he had never seen one. Surely, if he had had anything of the sort, he would have shown it to me then."
"Probably he did, too!" Burke rejoined, without the least suspicion that his surly utterance touched the truth exactly. "Now, see here," he went on, trying to make his voice affable, though with small success, for he was excessively irritated by these repeated failures; "I can make it a lot easier for you if you'll talk. Come on, now! Who killed Griggs?"
Mary cast off pretense finally, and spoke malignantly.
"That's for you to find out," she said, sneering.
Burke pressed the button on the desk, and, when the doorman appeared, ordered that the prisoner be returned to her cell.
But Mary stood rebellious, and spoke with a resumption of her cynical scorn.
"I suppose," she said, with a glance of contempt toward Demarest, "that it's useless for me to claim my constitutional rights, and demand to see a lawyer?"
Burke, too, had cast off pretense at last.
"Yes," he agreed, with an evil smirk, "you've guessed it right, the first time."
Mary spoke to the District Attorney.
"I believe," she said, with a new dignity of bearing, "that such is my constitutional right, is it not, Mr. Demarest?"
The lawyer sought no evasion of the issue. For that matter, he was coming to have an increasing respect, even admiration, for this young woman, who endured insult and ignominy with a spirit so sturdy, and met strategem with other strategem better devised. So, now, he made his answer with frank honesty.
"It is your constitutional right, Miss Turner."
Mary turned her clear eyes on the Inspector, and awaited from that official a reply that was not forthcoming. Truth to tell, Burke was far from comfortable under that survey.
"Well, Inspector?" she inquired, at last.
Burke took refuge, as his wont was when too hard pressed, in a mighty bellow.
"The Constitution don't go here!" It was the best he could do, and it shamed him, for he knew its weakness. Again, wrath surged in him, and it surged high. He welcomed the advent of Cassidy, who came hurrying in with a grin of satisfaction on his stolid face.
"Say, Chief," the detective said with animation, in response to Burke's glance of inquiry, "we've got Garson."
Mary's face fell,