Detective Ashton-Kirk (Boxed-Set). John T. McIntyre

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СКАЧАТЬ look of great acuteness had settled upon the face of the young coroner.

      "There is a painting at one side of the show room,"said he. "It is under a large green curtain. Is that of General Wayne?"

      "It is,"replied the clerk. "And I believe that he valued it more than anything else that he owned."

      Stillman laughed with pleasure.

      "Now,"said he to his visitors, "we are getting at it, indeed. Someone probably knew of the value he attached to this painting and planned to steal it, perhaps for a ransom. Hume has been suspected of doing this sort of thing himself before now. He was supposed to have engaged someone to do the actual work, I believe, as in the case of the Whistler portrait of the Duchess of Winterton. Suppose this someone,"and Stillman rapped his knuckles upon the edge of the desk excitedly, "took the notion to go into the picture stealing business of his own account. Hume himself with his much prized portrait of General Wayne was ready at hand—and so,"with a sweeping gesture, "what has happened, has happened."

      Pendleton, much impressed, looked at Ashton-Kirk. But the latter's thoughts seemed far away; his eyes were fixed upon the wall; his expression was of delighted anticipation.

      Stillman also noticed this non-attention to his reasoning, and a little wrinkle of discontent appeared between his brows. So he turned his gaze upon Brolatsky and spoke rather sharply.

      "Now, as to Mr. Hume's intimates? What do you know of them?"

      Isidore Brolatsky shifted in his chair; his long fingers began to drum upon his knees.

      "I have known of the matter of the Whistler portrait,"said he, "but I never knew anything more about it than what I read in the newspapers. It happened before my time."

      "I'm not accusing you,"said Stillman. "I'm asking you about Hume's friends."

      The clerk considered.

      "There was no one that I ever saw or heard of that you could call his friend, exactly,"said he at length. "He made game of people too much to have any I guess."

      "Had he no associates—no one with whom he spent his time?"

      Brolatsky shook his head.

      "Perhaps so; but then I was only in Christie Place during business hours. I have heard that he frequently went out at night; but where I do not know."

      "Was there no one who came to visit him while you were there during the day. No one whom he spoke of in an intimate way?"

      Again the clerk shook his head. Stillman began to appear nonplussed. He looked at the other, pondering and frowning through his glasses.

      "Who came most frequently to the store?"he inquired finally.

      "Why, I think Antonio Spatola,"said Brolatsky.

      "Was he a customer?"

      The clerk smiled.

      "Oh, no. He's a street musician. You may have seen him often about the city. He plays the violin and carries some trained cockatoos upon a perch."

      "What was the nature of his business at Hume's?"

      "If there was anything that Mr. Hume liked better than strong drink,"said the clerk, "it was music. Antonio Spatola would come and play to him for hours at a time."

      "A lover of music who could stand the playing of a street musician for hours!"cried Stillman. "That's astonishing."

      "But,"protested Brolatsky, "Spatola is a splendid musician. He's studied his instrument under the greatest masters in Paris, Rome and other European cities. He has played in the finest orchestras. But he never could keep a position because of his temper. He's told me himself that when aroused he doesn't know what he is doing."

      "I understand,"said the coroner. "What sort of relations existed between Hume and Spatola outside the music? Were they friendly?"

      "No, sir. I might say just the reverse. For hours, sometimes, Mr. Hume would lie back in his chair with his eyes closed listening to the violin. Then, perhaps, he'd get up suddenly, throw Antonio a dollar or so and tell him to get out. Or maybe he'd begin to jeer at him. Antonio had an ambition to become a concert violinist. Ole Bull and Kubelik had made great successes, he said; and so, why not he?

      "This was usually the point Mr. Hume would take up in mocking him. He'd call him a curbstone fiddler, and say that he ought to be playing at barn dances and Italian christenings instead of aspiring to the platform. Spatola would get frantic with rage, and fairly scream his resentment at these times.

      "Often Mr. Hume would have him bring his trained cockatoos. And while he was making them go through their tricks, Mr. Hume would call him a mountebank, a side show fakir and other things, and tell him that he ought to stick to that as a business, for he could make a living at it, where he would starve as a violinist. I've often seen Antonio go out trembling and white at the lips with rage. Several times he's tried to injure Mr. Hume—once he took out a knife."

      "Hah!"said the coroner.

      "That was the time Mr. Hume called him 'Mad Anthony.' I also remember that Mr. Hume pulled aside the curtain and showed him the large painting of General Wayne, laughing and telling him that that was another Mad Anthony. He was so successful that day in arousing Spatola, that always after that, when he was drunk, he'd call the Italian 'Mad Anthony' and it never failed to infuriate him.

      "Do you know where this man Spatola lives?"

      "In Christie Place, sir; just about half a dozen doors from the store. I believe he rents a garret there, or something."

      Stillman seemed struck by this.

      "In view of the fact that the building was entered by way of the scuttle,"said he to Ashton-Kirk, "I consider that a most interesting piece of information."

      "It may indeed prove so,"was the non-committal reply.

      Once more the discontented crease showed itself upon the coroner's forehead; and again as he turned to Brolatsky, his voice rose sharply.

      "Next to Antonio Spatola, who came most to Hume's place while you were there?"

      "The next most frequent caller,"returned the clerk, "was Mr. Allan Morris."

      Ashton-Kirk, glancing at Pendleton, saw him start.

      "And who,"queried the coroner, "is Mr. Allan Morris?"

      "At first I took him to be a customer,"replied Brolatsky. "And perhaps he was. He talked a great deal at times about engraved gems and would look at lists and works upon the subject. But somehow I got the notion that that was not just what he came for."

      "What caused you to think that?"asked the coroner.

      "His manner, partly, and then the fact that there seemed something between Mr. Hume and him—something that I never understood. Mr. Morris was another one that the boss used to make game of. Not so much as he would Spatola, but still a good bit. Mr. Morris always took it with a show of good temper; but underneath I could see that he too was sometimes furious."

      "About what did Hume deride him?"

      "That's СКАЧАТЬ