"He did. He did. It was Clayte--the wonder man!"
"Do--do you deduce that, Barbara?"
"Did I?" she raised to mine the face of a sick child. "I must have.
See--it's here on the blotter: 'y-t-e,' that's Clayte. Double l-e-r;
that's 'teller,' 'Avenue' is part of 'Van Ness Avenue Bank.' Oh, yes; I
deduced it, I suppose. Both crimes end in a locked room and a perfect
alibi. But--but--don't you see, if it is true--and it is--it is--we're
worse off than we were before. We've the wonder man against us."
"Barbara," I cried. "Barbara, come out of it!"
"See? You don't believe in me any more," and her head went down on the
table.
I let her cry, while I sat and thought. The broken sentences she'd
sobbed out to me began to fit up like a puzzle-game. By all theories of
good detective work, I should have seen from the first the similarity of
these crimes. But Clayte, slipping in here to do this murder--and why?
What mixed him up with affairs here? And then the icy pang--Dykeman had
seen a connection--Cummings had found one. With them, it was Clayte and
his gang--and his gang was Worth Gilbert. I went and touched Barbara on
the shoulder.
"I'm going to take you home now."
"Yes," tears running down her face as she stumbled to her feet. "I'm a
failure. I can't do anything for Worth."
I wiped her cheeks with my own handkerchief and led her out. As I turned
from locking the door, it seemed to me I saw something move in the
shrubbery. I asked Barbara Wallace about it. She hadn't noticed
anything. Barbara Wallace hadn't noticed anything!
I began to be scared for her. Solemn in the sky above boomed out the
town clock--two strokes. Half past nine. I must get this poor child
home. We were getting in toward the noise and the light when I felt her
shiver, and stopped to say,
"Did I forget your coat? Why, where's your hat?"
"The hat's back there. I had no coat. It doesn't make any difference.
Come on. I can't--can't--I must get home."
I looked at her, saw she was about at the end of her strength, and
decided quickly,
"We'll go straight through the Square. Save time and steps."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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