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Diamond Cross Mystery

<h2 id="id00815" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER VII</h2> <h5 id="id00816">THE COLONEL IS SURPRISED</h5> "This," said Colonel Ashley to himself, as he glided rapidly along the street, "is very much like old times—very much! I never expected to do any shadowing again. What's that Walton says about man proposing and Providence disposing? Or was it Walton? I must look it up. Meanwhile—" Continuing his musing, and with a satisfied smile on his face, a smile that might indicate that the colonel was not so very much averse to giving over his fishing for the time being to take up his profession once more, he followed Aaron Grafton as the merchant left the jewelry store. "I wonder," mused the colonel, "what his object was in coming to the Darcy place, and nosing around as he did? There must have been some object. A man such as he is doesn't do things like that for fun. And it wasn't mere curiosity, either. If it was, he'd have been at the place before, when the evidences of the crime were there to be stared at by those who care for such things. "And that Aaron Grafton hasn't been there since I was forced into this thing, I'm positive. For I was forced into it," grumbled the old detective. "I just couldn't resist the pleading of her eyes. It isn't the first time a man has made a fool of himself over a woman, and it won't be the last. But maybe I'll make fools of some of these folks, instead of being made a fool of myself. Fooled out of my fishing though. By gad! that's what I have been! "But no matter. I must see what friend Aaron is up to and what his little game is. Of course, he may have been at the store the day of the murder—before I arrived. I must ask Darcy about that. Poor lad, he's in tough luck—just when he ought to be thinking of getting married. Well, I'll do what I can." There were few tricks known to modern detectives of which Colonel Ashley was not master, among them being the ability to disguise himself—not by clumsy beards and false moustaches, though he used them at times—but by a few simple alterations to his face and carriage. Of course costume played its part when needed, but the time had not yet come for that. He was now following Grafton without the latter being aware of it—no very difficult matter in a city the size of Colchester, and on one of its main streets. "I think I want to know a little more about him," mused the colonel. "I'd like to have a talk with him, and see how he acts. But I won't chance that yet. I'll play 'possum for a while." Having followed his man to the latter's store, and even inside it, where he made a trifling purchase, and having seen Mr. Grafton enter his private office, the detective paid a visit to Darcy in the jail. "How is she, Colonel?" were the first words of the prisoner, when they were in the warden's office with a detective from the prosecutor's office seated a few chairs away. It was only under such arrangements that visitors were allowed to see the jewelry worker. "How is Amy?" "Why, she's very well, the last I saw of her. But I came to talk about something else." "I suppose so. This horrible affair. But she still believes in me, doesn't she?" he asked eagerly. "As much so as I do, my boy!" "Thank God for that! I don't know what I'd do if she went back on me! I wouldn't want to live!" "Tush! Nonsense! Don't get sentimental!" "I can't help it, Colonel. But as long as Amy thinks I didn't do this horrible thing—and God knows I didn't—and as long as you believe in me—why I can stand it. Maybe it won't be for long." "Well, there's no use buoying you up with false hopes, Darcy. You'll probably be here all summer." "I shan't mind if I'm proved innocent at last." "I hope we can manage that all right." "Then you do believe in me, Colonel?" "Of course I do! Otherwise, I wouldn't take up your case. Now don't talk too much. I want to ask you a few questions. Answer them, and as briefly as possible. I'll get you out of here as soon as I can. If I hadn't been as slow as a carp I might have the right man here now in your place." "What do you mean, Colonel?" "Eh? What's that? Did I say anything?" and the detective seemed roused from a reverie, for he had spoken his last remarks in a low voice. "You spoke about a carp—the right man—" "Oh, I—I was just thinking of something in Walton. Never mind me. It's a bad habit I've been acquiring lately of thinking aloud. Now to business!" and the colonel drew some papers from his pocket. Darcy looked at his new friend in some surprise. Certainly the colonel had spoken as though he might, at one time, have had a chance to get the "right man." Did that mean the real murderer? Darcy shook his head. His nerves were beginning to go back on him he feared. "Do you know Aaron Grafton?" asked the colonel. "Oh, yes," replied Darcy. "Every one in town knows him as one of the prominent merchants." "Was he at the store the day of the—the day Mrs. Darcy was killed?" "I don't remember. So many things happened—there were so many in the place. As I think back, though, I don't remember seeing him." "Very good. Did he ever do any business with you—I mean buy anything in the store?" "Why yes, I think very possibly he might. Most every one of prominence in Colchester, at one time or another, has made purchases in our store—some more, some less. No particular purchase made by Grafton stands out in my mind, however." "How about having his watch repaired?" "I'd remember, I think, if I had fixed his watch. I'm sure I didn't. He has a fine one, for I've seen him stop in front of our window and compare his time with our chronometer." "I see. Now another matter. Can you, in any way, account for the fact that so many of the clocks in the store—clocks that, as I understand it, ordinarily go for many days—stopped at different hours the night of the killing? Can you explain that?" Somewhat to the surprise of the colonel Darcy was silent for a moment. Then the young man slowly answered: "No. No, I can't explain it. I don't know what did it." "Well, then I'll have to fish on that alone, I guess. I thought you, knowing a lot about clock-works, might have some explanation. You know most of the timepieces were stopped—all of them, in fact, except the watch in your cousin's hand?" "Yes, I remarked that at the time. That watch was going." "Yes, so you told me—you thought it was her heart beating." "I wish, oh, how I wish, it had been!" exclaimed Darcy in tones of despair. "If it had been I wouldn't be here. But it's too late to think of that now." "Do you happen to know what became of that watch—the one in her hand? It belonged to an East Indian, you said." "Yes, to Singa Phut. I was to make one little adjustment in it for him, and he was to come in early to get it. It wasn't much. The hair spring, I think, had become caught up and it ran very fast. I planned to do it the night before, but the light was too poor. So I made up my mind to get up early and attend to it. But I never got the chance. No, I don't recall what happened to that watch. I suppose the detectives have it." "The prosecutor did take it, but Singa Phut has it now." "He has!" cried Darcy. "Yes, he called at the court house and begged that it be given to him. Said it was an ancient timepiece, which he had owned for many years, and as it could have no connection with the crime they let him take it." "Oh, well, I suppose that was all right. No, Singa Phut didn't have a thing to do with the killing, I'm positive of that." "And his alibi is perfect," said the colonel. "Well, I guess you've told me all I want to know. You haven't any reason to suspect any one, have you, Darcy?" "Not a soul! God knows I wouldn't want to name any one, either, much as I'd like to get out Of here myself." "Mrs. Darcy had no enemies?" "Not a one in the world that I know of. She was a friendly woman. Of course, that was good business policy. No, she had no enemies. Most people liked her." "So I've heard. Well, we'll get at the truth somehow. Now brace up." "I'm trying to, Colonel." "Well, try harder. When I go to see Miss Mason—" "You are going to see Amy?" cried the prisoner eagerly. "Yes. But if I have to tell her you looked as though you had lost every last friend you had in the world—" "It's all right, Colonel. Tell her you saw me—laughing!" and Darcy did manage to utter what might pass for a laugh. It was a good attempt. "Good! That's better, though there's room for improvement," said the detective. "Now, I'll leave you. I have lots to do." "I'm sorry. Colonel, to put you to all this trouble—" "Pooh! Now I'm in it there's no trouble that's too much. I'll get about the same fun out of this as I would if I fished—and I'll fish with greater enjoyment later on—when I've cleared you." "I hope you do, Colonel. And if there's anything I can do—" "Thanks, but Miss Mason has already arranged to have me whip her father's trout stream when this case is over, and that's reward enough for me. Now, sir, one last word to you!" and the colonel assumed the military appearance that so well befitted him. "Stop worrying!" "I'll try, Colonel!" "Don't try—do it." "One question." "Well, one only. What is it? "Do you think Mr. Grafton—" The detective smiled and shook his finger at Darcy. "You just let me do the thinking!" he advised as he turned to go out. Colonel Ashley spent two busy days, most of his time being given over to investigating Aaron Grafton. And the more he saw of that gentleman the more the detective became convinced that the merchant knew something of the crime. "I wouldn't admit, even to myself," mused the colonel, "that he had a hand in it, or that he was an accessory before or after. But he certainly knows something about it, and enough to make him worry. That's what Aaron Grafton is doing—worrying. And he's worrying about something that ought to be in the jewelry shop and isn't. Now, what is it?" This, very evidently, was something for Colonel Ashley to discover, and with all his skill he set himself to this task. For the time being he dropped several other ends—tangled ends of the skein he hoped to unravel—and devoted his time to Grafton. And, at the end of two days the detective learned that the merchant was going to make a hurried trip to New York—a trip not directly connected with his store, for those trips were made at other times of the year. "Well, if he goes to New York I go too!" said the colonel grimly. And he went, on the same train with Aaron Grafton, though unknown to the latter. It was a skilful bit of shadowing the detective did on the journey to the metropolis, so skilful that, though the merchant plainly showed by his nervousness that he thought he might have been followed, he did not, seemingly, suspect the quiet man seated not far from him, reading a little green book. The colonel had adopted a simple but effective disguise. In New York, which was reached early in the morning, after a night journey, the colonel again took up the trail, keeping near his man. "Follow that taxi," the colonel ordered the driver of his machine as it rolled out of the Pennsylvania station, just a few lengths behind the one in which Grafton rode. The following was well done, and, a little later the two machines drew up in front of the big office building in which Colonel Ashley had his headquarters. "Whew!" whispered the follower of Izaak Walton, "I wonder if he came here to consult my agency?" All doubts were dissolved a moment later when, keeping somewhat in the background, the detective heard the merchant ask the elevator starter on which floor were the offices of Colonel Ashley's detective agency. "He does want to see me!" excitedly thought the colonel. "What in the world for? This is getting interesting! I've got to do a little fine work now. He must never suspect, at least for a while, that I have been in Colchester." Next to the elevator in which Aaron Grafton rode up was another. "Tom, you're an express for the time being!" whispered the colonel to the operator. "There's a man headed for my offices, and I must get in ahead of him. Here's a dollar!" "I get you, Colonel! Shoot!" And the car shot up with speed enough to cause the colonel to gasp, used as he was to rapid motion. He had just time to slide into his quarters by a rear and private door, to make certain changes in his appearance and be calmly sitting at his desk smoking a cigar when his clerk brought in the card of Aaron Grafton. "Tell him to come in," said the colonel, more and more surprised at the turn affairs were taking. "I'll see this man myself," he continued, speaking to the man into whose hands he had put the general direction of the agency. "Say to Mr. Grafton," he said, turning to the clerk, "that Colonel Ashley will see him in a moment." <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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