A Chain of Evidence

by Carolyn Wells

"I have no reason," I went on, "for suspecting George Lawrence, except that he could be said to have a motive. I admit, as you say, that it does not seem possible for him to have entered the apartment, unless one of the women let him in."

"Let him in!" echoed the inspector. "I hadn't thought of that! Ah, now I see your idea. If George Lawrence is the man who did the deed and was let in by his cousin, while she might have been accessory, she might not have known of the deed at all."

"That is possible, inspector," I agreed; "but had she let George in, she must have again put the chain on the door after he went out. This is scarcely compatible with the assumption that she knew nothing of what had happened in the meantime."

"No," declared the inspector, in his decided way. "Your suggestion, however, leads to a new line of investigation. But say George Lawrence had gone to the Pembrokes' apartment last night, and had come away again, the elevator boy would have known it, and would have given evidence this morning; that is, unless he had been bribed, which is, of course, possible. But all this will be brought out at the trial."

"Not so fast, inspector," I said, feeling a grim delight in bringing him up with a round turn. "George Lawrence can prove a complete and perfect alibi, attested by responsible witnesses."

Inspector Crawford looked thoroughly disgusted. "Then the whole matter stands where it did at first," he said, "though, of course, we must remember that, since the women could have let in George Lawrence, they could, of course, have let in any one else, had they been so minded. But all this is in your province, rather than in mine, and if you can find anybody who is likely to have gone in there last night, with or without criminal intent, I think for your own sake you had better make investigation along that line."

"Mr. Crawford," I said, "I would not have mentioned to you even the name of George Lawrence in this connection if I could have done what I wanted to without your assistance. I want to go to George Lawrence's apartment, and make a search of his rooms. I have not a definite reason for doing this, but I feel that it may lead to something. I cannot say I suspect George Lawrence of the crime. I cannot doubt his alibi, nor can I imagine how he could have gotten into the apartment had he wanted to. But I do know that he had, or at least might possibly have had, a motive for desiring his uncle's death, and upon that perhaps irrelevant fact I base what I shall not call a suspicion, but an interest into looking into his affairs. I could not go through his rooms alone, but as an inspector you will be allowed to do so, and I want to go with you and at once."

I may have been mistaken in Mr. Crawford's inclination toward detective work. Although he had seemed indifferent when he had been so sure of his conclusion, the mere opportunity of searching for clues seemed to stir him to action, and, to my surprise, he was not only willing but anxious to go with me at once.

As I knew Lawrence would spend the entire afternoon in his work of looking over Mr. Pembroke's papers, I felt that the coast was clear for an hour or so, at least. So together we took a Broadway car, and were not long in reaching Washington Square.

The inspector's badge, of course, gained him access at once to George's apartment, and I followed him into the rooms, feeling that if there was anything even remotely approaching a clue, I must and would find it.