The House Opposite: A Mystery. Elizabeth Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ must be the name of the golden-haired lady and her assailant.

      “Have these people been here long?”

      “Mr. Stuart has been with us seven years. He is a bachelor. Mr. and Mrs. Atkins have only been here since May; they are a newly-married couple, I am told.” And not a word of the mysterious pair I had seen in the adjoining apartment! Was McGorry holding something back, or was he really ignorant of their presence in the building?

      “Are you sure, Mr. McGorry, that there is no one else in the house?” I interrupted again.

      “Yes, sor.” Then a light broke over his face: “No, sor; you are quite right” (I hadn’t said anything). “Miss Derwent has been two nights here, but she’s off again this morning.” Mr. Merritt here whispered something to the Coroner, whereupon the latter turned to McGorry and said: “Please see that no one leaves this building till I have seen them. I don’t wish them to be told that a murder has been committed, unless they have heard it already, which is most probable. Just inform them that there has been an accident, do you hear?”

      “Oh, Mr. Coroner,” exclaimed McGorry, turning almost as red as his hair in his excitement; “shure and you wouldn’t mix Miss Derwent up in this! Lord, she ain’t used to such scenes; she’d faint, and then her mother would never forgive me!”

      “Every one, Miss Derwent included, must view the corpse,” he replied, sternly.

      “Oh, sor, but–”

      “Silence!” thundered the Coroner; “the law must be obeyed.”

      So the manager went reluctantly out to give the desired order. On his return, the Coroner resumed:

      “Who is Miss Derwent?”

      “Why Miss May Derwent,” exclaimed McGorry; “she’s just Miss May Derwent.” So it was the fashionable beauty I had been watching so far into the night. Strange, and stranger!

      “Miss May Derwent,” McGorry continued, taking pity on our ignorance, “is the only daughter of Mrs. Mortimer Derwent. She arrived here unexpectedly on Tuesday. She had missed her train, she said, and came here to pass the night.”

      “Did she come alone?”

      “Yis, sor.”

      “Without even a maid?”

      “Yis, sor.”

      “Surely that is an unusual thing for a rich young lady to do?”

      “Yis, sor,” replied McGorry, apologetically; “she has never done it before. Maybe the maid was taken on by the train.”

      “Did Miss Derwent bring any luggage?”

      “Nothing but a hand-bag, sor.”

      “And yet she stayed two nights! Do you know any reason for her staying here so long?”

      “No, sor, unless it was she had some shopping to do. A good many parcels come for her yistidy afternoon.”

      “Have you a key to her apartment?”

      “Yis, sor; when families goes away for the summer they leaves one key with me and takes the other with them.”

      “Did you let Miss Derwent into her apartment, or did she have the key?”

      “I let her in.”

      “Did anyone wait on the young lady while she was here?”

      “What do you mean by that?” inquired McGorry, cautiously.

      “Why, did anyone go into her place to get her meals and tidy up, etc?”

      “No, sor, not that I know of.”

      “Doesn’t it strike you as peculiar that a young lady, reared in the lap of luxury and unaccustomed to doing the least thing for herself should go to an apartment in which dust and dirt had been accumulating for several months and voluntarily spend two nights there, without even a servant to perform the necessary chores for her, mind you?”

      “She went out for her meals,” McGorry put in, anxiously, “and young ladies, especially the rich ones, think roughing it a lark.”

      There was a slight pause.

      “What servants are there in the building besides your employees, Mr. McGorry?”

      “Mr. Stuart, he keeps a man and his wife—French people they are; and Mrs. Atkins, she keeps two girls.”

      The Coroner now rose, and, followed by Mr. Merritt, proceeded towards the room where the dead man lay.

      “Send up your employees, one by one, McGorry.”

      “Yis, sor.”

      On the threshold the detective paused a moment, and to my astonishment and delight requested me to accompany them. The Coroner frowned, evidently considering me a very unnecessary addition to the party, but his displeasure made no difference to me; I was only too happy to be given this opportunity of watching the drama unfold itself.

      CHAPTER III

      A CORONER’S INQUEST

      WE took our places at the foot of the corpse, with our backs to the light and silently awaited developments. In a few minutes McGorry returned, followed by the electrician, and during the rest of the time remained in the room checking off the men as they came in. It is needless for me to repeat all the testimony, as a great deal of it was perfectly irrelevant; suffice it to say that the electrician, engineer, and janitress all passed the ordeal without adding an iota to our information. The watchman when called persisted, after the severest cross-questioning, in his first assertion that neither on Wednesday night nor last night had he seen or heard anything suspicious. The only person he had admitted on either night was Mr. Atkins, who had returned at about half-past one that very morning; he was sure that he had seen no stranger leave the building.

      At last Jim, the elevator boy, was called in. He appeared still very much frightened, and only looked at the corpse with the greatest reluctance.

      “Have you ever seen this man before?” demanded the Coroner.

      “No, sah,” answered Jim, in a shaking voice.

      “Now, my lad, take another look at him. Are you still so sure that you have never seen him before,” gently insisted Mr. Merritt; “for, you see, we have reason to believe that you have.” Jim began to tremble violently, as he cast another glance at the dead man.

      “Lord-a-massy, sah; p’raps I did, p’raps I did; I dunno, he looks some like—not ’zactly–”

      “Do you know his name?”

      “No, sah.”

      “When did you see him last?”

      “Tuesday ebenin’, sah.” Here the boy glanced apprehensively at McGorry.

      “Come, come, my lad,” the Coroner exclaimed, impatiently; “tell us all you know about the man. The truth, now, and the whole truth, mind you; and don’t you look at any one to see how they are going to like what you say, either.”

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