“Go on,” I begged; “what did you do then?”
“I knew that if Mr. Norman was in town at all, he would be at his father’s house,” May continued, more quietly.
“Hailing a cab, I drove directly there. You can imagine in what an overwrought state I was when I tell you that the idea that I was doing anything unusual never occurred to me. I rang the bell and asked for Mr. Stuart Norman without the least embarrassment. The butler’s look of surprise and his evident unwillingness to admit me, recalled me a little to my senses. But even when I saw how my conduct must strike others, I did not turn back, and I finally persuaded the man to call his master. The latter hurried from the breakfast table to see who the mysterious and importunate female might be who had come knocking so early at his door. Notwithstanding my veil, he recognised me at once. Ushering me into a small reception room he closed the door behind him; then turning towards me he took me by the hand and, gently leading me to a sofa, begged me to tell him what had happened. I told my dreadful story as briefly as possible. You can imagine with what horror he listened. Strangely enough, I remained perfectly calm. I was astonished at my own callousness, but at the moment I felt as if all that had occurred was nothing but a hideous nightmare, from which I had happily awakened. When I had finished, Mr. Norman did not speak for some time, but paced up and down the room with ill-concealed agitation. Trying to appear calm, he again sat down beside me.
“‘I have come to the conclusion that the only thing for you to do is to return at once to the Rosemere,’ he said at last. This suggestion at once dispelled the numbness which had come over me, and the painful fluttering of my heart convinced me that the power of suffering had, alas, not left me. I first thought that he intended me to go back alone, but that I knew I could not do. He soon reassured me on that point, however, and promised that as long as I needed him, or wanted him, he would never desert me. He seemed to understand intuitively how I shrank from returning to the scene of the tragedy, and I felt sure he would not urge me to do so if he did not think it absolutely necessary. He pointed out that the body must be removed from our apartment as soon as possible. Where to put it was the question. We thought of various places, none of which seemed practicable, till I remembered the vacant suite on our landing. As soon as I told him of it, and that at present painters and paper-hangers were working there, he decided that we could never find a more convenient spot, or one where the discovery of the dead man was so little likely to compromise any one. How Mr. Norman was to get into our apartment was the next question. For obvious reasons he could not do so openly. At last, he hit on the idea of disguising himself as a tradesman. He suggested that we should both enter the building at the same time, I by the front, and he by the back door. I was then to let him in through the kitchen, which could easily be done without anybody’s being the wiser. This seemed the most feasible plan, and I agreed to it. It would take him only a few minutes to dress, he assured me, but while I was waiting he begged me to have some breakfast. I told him that it would be impossible for me to eat, but he insisted. As it was most important that the servants should not recognise me, he took me to a quiet restaurant round the corner. There he ordered an ample breakfast, and stayed (notwithstanding my protests) till he satisfied himself that I had done full justice to it. He was gone an incredibly short time, and when he did return I had some difficulty in recognising him, so faultless, to my inexperienced eyes, did his get-up appear. He did not enter the restaurant, but lounged outside, chewing a straw with apparent carelessness. That straw was a very neat touch, for it permitted him to distort his mouth without exciting remark. A battered straw hat, drawn well over his eyes, a large apron, and a market-basket completed the transformation. Even if he had come face to face with a party of friends, I doubt if they would have known him. For who could suspect a man like Mr. Norman of masquerading as a tradesman? People would therefore be inclined to attribute any likeness they observed to an accidental resemblance.”
So he was the tradesman I had seen leaving the Rosemere! I felt a terrible pang of jealousy, but managed to ask: “What did his servants think at seeing their master go out in such costume?”
“Later on, he told me that he had been able to leave the house unperceived,” she replied; “at least, he thought so, as all the servants happened to be at breakfast. He had crept softly up-stairs, put on an old suit and hat, both of which had suffered shipwreck; then, with infinite precautions, he had stolen into the butler’s pantry, seized an apron, stuffed it inside his coat, which he buttoned over it, and, after watching till the street was clear, slipped quietly out. When he turned the corner, and fancied himself unobserved, he pulled out the apron and tied it on. Then, walking boldly into Bloomingdale’s, he purchased a market-basket, into which, with great forethought, he put a few needful groceries. All this, as I said before, he told me later. At the time, I left the restaurant without even glancing in his direction. We boarded the same car, but sat as far apart as possible. All went off as we had arranged, and half an hour later I had let him into our kitchen without having aroused anybody’s suspicions.” She paused a moment.
“Mr. Norman went at once into the room where the body lay,” she continued. “He went alone, as I dared not follow him. When he came out he told me that he had pulled down all the shades, as, owing to the intense heat, he feared that some one might be tempted to climb to the opposite roof, in which case a chance look would lead to the discovery of my ghastly secret. The quiet and business-like way in which he talked of our situation was most comforting, and I was surprised to find myself calmly discussing the different means of obtaining possession of the key to the vacant apartment. This must be my task, as he could not go outside the door, for fear of being seen. So I stole out on the landing to reconnoitre. To my joy, I saw the key sticking in the lock. When Mr. Norman heard of this piece of good luck, it did not take him long to decide on a plan of action. Hastily scribbling a few lines to his butler, he gave them to me. He then told me to go out again and ring for the elevator. While waiting for it to come, I was to saunter casually to the threshold of the adjoining flat, and, leaning on the door-knob, quietly abstract the key. Should any one notice me, my curiosity would be a sufficient excuse for my presence. Having got the key and enclosed it in the envelope he had given me, I was to hurry to a district messenger office (taking care to select one where I was not likely to be known), send the note, and there await the answer, which would be addressed to Miss Elizabeth Wright. In this note he gave orders to have the key duplicated as quickly and secretly as possible. Mr. Norman thought that the butler, who was a man of great discretion, and had been with the family for many years, could be entrusted with this delicate mission, but anyhow we had to risk it as the only alternative (my going to a locksmith myself) was not to be thought of. The police would be sure to make inquiries of all such people, and if they discovered that a girl answering to my description had been to them on such an errand, it would fasten suspicion upon me and prove a perhaps fatal clue. I thought his plan most ingenious, and promised to follow his instructions to the letter. I had no difficulty in obtaining the key, although my extreme nervousness made me so awkward that I almost dropped it at the critical moment. After that everything else was easy. It seemed, however, an interminable time before I at last held both keys in my hand. I flew back to the Rosemere. Impatience lent wings to my feet. But here a disappointment awaited me. On stepping out of the elevator, I found the hall full of workmen, noisily eating their luncheons. There was no help for it—I must postpone returning the key till later. This agitated me very much, as I feared every moment that its absence would be discovered. Mr. Norman, however, took the delay much more philosophically than I did, and reassured me somewhat by saying that he did not believe any one would think of the key till evening. Still, as it was advisable to run as few risks as possible, I decided to make another attempt as soon as the men returned to their work. Peeping through a crack of our door, I waited till the coast was clear before venturing out. After ringing the elevator bell, I walked boldly forward, and had already stretched out my hand towards the key-hole, when a queer grating noise made me pause. A tell-tale boot was thrust suddenly out, and to my horror I discovered that a man was standing directly behind the door, busily scraping off the old paint. The narrowness of my escape made me feel quite faint. Another moment and the click of the lock would have betrayed me, and then—but I could not indulge in such conjectures. Swallowing my disappointment, I got into the lift. There was no help for it; I dared not try again till later in the day. In the meantime, I decided to do some shopping, as I wanted to be able to give that as an excuse for my prolonged stay in town. After spending several hours in this way, I concluded that I might again make an effort to replace the key, and this time I was successful, for although I met one of the workmen, yet I am sure he had not noticed that I had been fumbling with the lock. I found Mr. Norman, on my return, as calm and cheerful as ever. He urged me not to stay in the apartment, and although I felt ashamed to leave him to face the situation alone, yet the place was so dreadful to me that I yielded to my fears and his entreaties, and went out again and wandered aimlessly about till it grew so dark that I no longer dared to remain out alone. It is impossible for me to describe the ensuing evening. We sat together in the kitchen, as being the spot farthest from the scene of the tragedy. At first we tried to talk, but as the hours crept by, we grew more and more taciturn. We had decided that at two o’clock we would attempt our gruesome task, for that is the time when the world sleeps most soundly. Mr. Norman suggested that I should muffle myself up as much as possible, so that in case we were discovered, I might yet escape recognition, or, what would be even better, observation. I therefore put on a dark shirtwaist I found hanging in my closet, drew on a pair of black gloves to prevent my hands attracting attention, and tied up my hair in a black veil, which I could pull down over my face in case of emergency. Two o’clock at last struck. We immediately—but why linger over the gruesome details of what occurred during the next fifteen minutes? Fortunately, no one surprised us as we staggered across the landing with our burden, and we managed to get back to the shelter of our four walls unobserved. As we stood for a moment in the hall congratulating ourselves on having got rid of the body so successfully, I noticed a long, glittering object lying at my feet. Bending down, I picked it up. It was the fatal hat-pin. I dropped it with a shudder. Mr. Norman asked me what it was. I told him. He picked it up again and examined it closely. ‘Where is the head of this pin?’ he asked. I had no idea. I remembered that it had broken off in my hand as I wrenched it out of the body, and I thought that in all probability it still lay somewhere in the drawing-room, unless it had been carried elsewhere by the same chance which had swept its other part into the hall. Mr. Norman looked very grave when he heard of this loss, and said he would look for it immediately. He insisted, however, on my going to my room and trying to get some sleep. But sleep was, of course, out of the question, and at six o’clock I crept down stairs to bid my kind friend good-bye. We had concluded that at that hour he could easily leave the building unobserved.
“I had to wait till later, and just as I thought the time for my release had come the janitor brought me a request, a command rather, from the Coroner, to the effect that I was to remain on the premises till he had seen me. If McGorry had not been so excited himself he must have noticed my agitation, for I jumped at once to the conclusion that my secret was discovered. Luckily, I had time enough before I was finally called to regain my self-possession, and to decide how I had better behave so as to dissipate suspicion, even if it had already fastened upon me. I knew that to show too much emotion would be fatal. I must try and prove to them that I was not particularly affected by the sight of the corpse, and yet must be careful not to go to the other extreme and appear callous. How could I do this? Had I enough self-control to risk raising my veil when I entered the room where the dead man lay? If I did this and showed a calm, grave face, I believed it would go far towards establishing my innocence in the minds of those who would be watching me. And I think I did hide my agitation till the detective asked me a question I was quite unprepared for.”
“You did, indeed,” I assured her.