“I dug a hole under one of the trees out there,” she motioned with a long, brown hand, on which the topaz shone, toward the orchard. “I left it there all day yesterday—I mean, day before yesterday.” She glanced at the window, which was beginning to show a dim, gray light. “And then that night I got away from you,” she looked at O’Brien—“and you”—at Jim, this time—“and got it out and brought it here in my jewel case. I thought it would be safe in this room and Sarah was so excited”—she cast a malicious glance toward me—“she never noticed that I came out without my jewel case when she so thoughtfully took me to her room and locked me in! How did you find it?”
O’Leary did not reply.
“When Miss Letheny returned for the radium about eleven o’clock tonight I—er—detained her.” O’Leary glanced toward the closet from which she had emerged. “I am interested to hear that you admit to having the radium in your possession.”
“What can you do about it?” flashed Corole insolently. “And you are all wrong about Dr. Hajek. I know that he did not shoot Higgins and I know that he did not kill Louis for he was with me both times—”
“That will do, Miss Letheny. Or rather, Mrs. Hajek.”
Corole started. Her brown hands clutched at the wall back of her.
“How did you know that?”
O’Brien cleared his throat self-consciously and at the sound Corole whirled to face him.
“I suppose you were following us this afternoon,” she said vindictively.
“They were married this afternoon,” said O’Leary. “Owing to a conversation overheard by one of us”—I daresay it was my turn to look self-conscious—“we have reason to think that possibly the bride was a bit reluctant, but however that was, they were actually married at the courthouse with Mr. O’Brien—near at hand. Your own desire to perjure yourself, Mrs. Hajek, will not be of any help in the matter, for your husband cannot be cleared.”
A strange silence fell; the torrents of rain seemed to be lessening slightly and I heard a roll of thunder away off in the distance.
I was engaged in going over and over to myself O’Leary’s explanations; it did not seem to me that he had covered everything, and I was about to inquire into certain matters when O’Leary spoke again.
“Is everything clear to you, Dr. Balman?” he asked deferentially.
Dr. Balman hesitated.
“I don’t know,” he said with a puzzled and worried air. “I really don’t know. This is”—he paused to pass his hand across his eyes, rubbing the bruise on his cheekbone a little as if it itched—“this is a terrible responsibility, Mr. O’Leary.”
O’Leary nodded.
“But you are head of St. Ann’s,” said O’Leary. “And while the case belongs to the state to prosecute, still I should like to feel that you, as head of the institution of St. Ann’s—are satisfied with our findings.”
“It doesn’t seem—it doesn’t seem possible,” said Dr. Balman.
O’Leary looked obviously irritated, but said with restrained impatience:
“Is there anything that I have overlooked, Dr. Balman?”
“No. No, I suppose not,” Dr. Balman replied uncertainly.
“Perhaps I have not made myself perfectly clear,” said O’Leary, still patiently. “Let’s begin at the beginning again, Dr. Balman, and piece things out in their logical order. I want to be sure that it is all clear to you.”
“No, no! That will not be necessary.”
“Yes,” insisted O’Leary. “You being head of St. Ann’s, Doctor, should be given every scrap of information in my power to give.”
“No, no!” said Dr. Balman. “It is very painful to me. And anyway, I think I understand. Dr. Hajek got into Room 18, just after Dr. Letheny had hidden the radium. Isn’t that it?”
O’Leary nodded and there was a quickly subdued growl of dissent from Dr. Hajek.
“The two men struggled then, and Dr. Letheny was killed in the struggle?”
Again O’Leary nodded.
“Yes, I think I understand. Still it doesn’t seem possible.” Dr. Balman regarded Dr. Hajek doubtfully.
“No,” said Lance O’Leary slowly. “It does seem strange that Miss Keate should hear nothing of it.”
“I believe she did hear something of it,” said Dr. Balman, his distressed countenance turning to me. I made some gesture of assent.
“Yes,” said O’Leary. “For don’t you remember that she came down to the end of the corridor—” He left his sentence hanging in the air, and as he spoke he moved his hand slightly and I was faintly surprised to see little beads of sweat glistening on the back of it, though the night was cool. His face was quiet and composed as usual.
“Oh, yes,” said Dr. Balman. “I remember now. Strange she saw or heard nothing of all this when she opened the door of Room 18 and stood there for a moment.”
Queer how silent the room was. No one seemed to breathe.
Then Lance O’Leary’s voice broke the silence; it was tight and strange and shook a little.
“Only the murderer could know that!” He shot a glance at O’Brien. “Quick!” The last word was like the sharp lash of a whip.
I was never sure just what happened then. There was a scream as Corole flung herself upon Dr. Hajek. There was another struggle going on somewhere else. Figures blurred in rapid motion—there were outcries—I found myself clutching at Maida—Jim Gainsay’s tall figure flashed before our eyes.
Then O’Leary’s tense voice commanded the situation.
“Right, O’Brien!” he said sharply.
Then the room seemed to clear; things resumed their normal dimensions.
I stared and rubbed my eyes and stared again.
Then my knees weakened under me and I think I screamed.
The handcuffs glittered coldly on Dr. Balman’s wrists.
XVIII
O’Leary Revises His Story
It was fitting that the thing should end as it had begun, in Room 18.
I have only a dazed and chaotic memory of them taking Dr. Balman away. Of Corole and Fred Hajek going under guard. Of myself sitting numbly in Room 18, with Maida beside me gripping my hand, until O’Leary returned. Jim accompanied him.
I think
