But Denver did not warm to the idea. “My dear fellow, you seem to forget
that all the evidence was pretty thoroughly sifted at the time, every
possible clue followed up. The public would have been ready enough then
to believe that you murdered old Lenman--you or anybody else. All they
wanted was a murderer--the most improbable would have served. But your
alibi was too confoundedly complete. And nothing you’ve told me has
shaken it.” Denver laid his cool hand over the other’s burning fingers.
“Look here, old fellow, go home and work up a better case--then come in
and submit it to the _Investigator_.”
IV
THE perspiration was rolling off Granice’s forehead. Every few minutes
he had to draw out his handkerchief and wipe the moisture from his
haggard face.
For an hour and a half he had been talking steadily, putting his case
to the District Attorney. Luckily he had a speaking acquaintance with
Allonby, and had obtained, without much difficulty, a private audience
on the very day after his talk with Robert Denver. In the interval
between he had hurried home, got out of his evening clothes, and gone
forth again at once into the dreary dawn. His fear of Ascham and the
alienist made it impossible for him to remain in his rooms. And it
seemed to him that the only way of averting that hideous peril was by
establishing, in some sane impartial mind, the proof of his guilt. Even
if he had not been so incurably sick of life, the electric chair seemed
now the only alternative to the strait-jacket.
As he paused to wipe his forehead he saw the District Attorney glance at
his watch. The gesture was significant, and Granice lifted an appealing
hand. “I don’t expect you to believe me now--but can’t you put me under
arrest, and have the thing looked into?”
Allonby smiled faintly under his heavy grayish moustache. He had a ruddy
face, full and jovial, in which his keen professional eyes seemed to
keep watch over impulses not strictly professional.
“Well, I don’t know that we need lock you up just yet. But of course I’m
bound to look into your statement--”
Granice rose with an exquisite sense of relief. Surely Allonby wouldn’t
have said that if he hadn’t believed him!
“That’s all right. Then I needn’t detain you. I can be found at any time
at my apartment.” He gave the address.
The District Attorney smiled again, more openly. “What do you say to
leaving it for an hour or two this evening? I’m giving a little supper
at Rector’s--quiet, little affair, you understand: just Miss Melrose--I
think you know her--and a friend or two; and if you’ll join us...”
Granice stumbled out of the office without knowing what reply he had
made.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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