Albert plainly showed his disappointment at Murray’s first statement, and it was a moment or two before he replied to the second.
“I do not know your rules or aims,” he said, “but it is possible—indeed almost probable, under the circumstances—that there never will be any absolute proof of death. It—it happened in mid-lake, you know.”
“Our aim,” returned Murray, “is to pay every claim that we are convinced is just, without resorting to any quibbling or technical evasions, but we have to be careful. In saying this, I am merely stating a general proposition, without particular reference to this affair. Indeed, I concede that the presumption of death is unusually strong in this case. I shall be glad to have any facts bearing on it that you can give me.”
Albert fully reviewed the circumstances as he knew them, to all of which Murray listened attentively.
“I shall make a complete report to the home office,” said Murray at the conclusion of the recital. “Of course, after the lapse of a certain period there is a legal presumption of death, anyhow, but it is possible that the circumstantial evidence may be deemed strong enough to warrant an earlier settlement. Knowing the ostensible motive, I appreciate the value of time to you, and I assure you the company has no desire to delay matters longer than is necessary to assure itself of the justice of the claim.”
After Albert had departed, Murray went over the case carefully, and the evidence seemed quite convincing. In the first place, there could be no question as to a very strong motive. There was the certainty of ruin, which the death of Jonas alone could avert, and, after a lapse of two years from the date of the policy, suicide did not invalidate it. Therefore, by his own sacrifice, he could purchase a bright future for his sons. Then there could be no doubt that he had been depressed and worried for some time, and latterly unquestionably had brooded on the subject of self-destruction. In a talk with one man he had spoken of it as “self-elimination,” but he had spoken more bluntly to Benson at the club. There could be no doubt now that he contemplated such action at that time, and that he had reference to it when he told his sons he had discovered a way to raise the necessary money. Everything indicated that his troubles had made him temporarily insane.
Then there was the evidence of the woman to whom he had resigned his state-room on the boat, and of various other passengers who had noted his restlessness and his misery. One woman even asserted that she had said to a companion at the time that there was a man who contemplated some desperate act. It seemed probable that he had planned to jump overboard that first night, but had been deterred, either by lack of a favorable opportunity or because his courage failed him. His actions at the hotel, and especially at the dock, were wholly consistent with this theory, and the blunt note he left was further evidence of mental derangement. Although his purpose in no way affected his policy, a man in his right mind would hardly have stated it so frankly; indeed, a sane man probably would have tried to give the appearance of accident to his death. Finally, he had boarded the return boat and was missing when the boat reached Chicago, although his strange actions had directed particular attention to him during the early part of the trip.
After a brief delay the company paid the policy. The circumstantial evidence could hardly be more convincing, and the body of a man who drowned himself in mid-lake might never be recovered.
It was several years later that Albert Kalin called upon Murray and introduced himself a second time.