"Regarding the woman's identity, now there are one or two little points deserving special attention. Lynden states positively that he neither saw nor passed anybody in the hall nor on the stairway; yet, there was something about Mr. Nettleton's offices and the indications of a woman's recent presence there that disturbed him strangely. While in the very act of asserting that he had neither seen nor passed anybody, he stopped as though struck by a sudden doubt, although he did not alter his statement. A similar incident happened with Howe while we were all gathered in the Doctor's office last night after the murder. He also paused in the midst of a statement that there was nothing to indicate who the assassin might be, and Lynden was impressed by his hesitation, as though it reminded him of his own. Are these gentlemen trying to conceal anything? What possible object could Howe have in doing so? Yet I believe that both of them are perturbed by some misgiving which they hesitate to put into words. Their doubt may contain the key to the whole riddle; but it will be a delicate matter getting at it. Assuming that it points to the lady's identity, we may surprise one or the other of them into betraying it; but it is no easy task to make a man speak of something which he will not admit even to himself."
CHAPTER V
A TELEGRAM FROM MEXICO
"Your deductions seem natural," said Mr. Mountjoy, at length. "But this unknown woman? Is there any one in the city to whom you could ascribe a motive? Will you have to go into the past record of Señor de Sanchez? And Fairchild—Heaven knows there can't be anything between him and such a mysterious, blood-thirsty female. How are we to account for his participation in the crime? I think it well to secure such a record; also De Sanchez's association with General Westbrook in Mexico. There is no telling how the darkness may be illuminated from some unexpected quarter. At present, John, to me it is completely baffling."
But Mr. Converse had neglected nothing that his experience suggested as being a likely means of casting light upon the crime.
"Yes, sir," he rejoined, in his steady manner. "Yes, sir; I admit the case offers many puzzling phases, and apparently contradictory circumstances; but you must remember that we have been at work on it less than twenty-four hours; the woman's identity may be shown in a manner we cannot now imagine, and any hour may bring the news of Fairchild's apprehension.
"Besides, I have been beforehand in looking up the deceased's past. I should receive a telegram from Mexico to-day. The net is well spread, I think. A man is watching Fairchild's house—in fact, the whole department are keeping a look-out for him; and the other actors are being shadowed by capable men."
"But from all the facts in your possession," interrupted Mr. Mountjoy, "have you considered the possibility—aside from the statements of the witnesses, I mean, and simply upon what you know to be the facts—of either Doctor Westbrook or Howard Lynden being the assassin?"
"Yes, sir, I have," was the reply. "But for the present we may dismiss them shortly, though I shall not cease to consider every development in this case in the light of its possible application to all the parties.
"Could the Doctor, then, have delivered the fatal thrust? From the present facts we must give him the benefit of the doubt, and abide the results of further investigation. It is very fortunate for him that his friend Howe happened to be present just when he was; and it is strange, his coming all the way from Georgia to be a piece in this puzzling game. But here he is.