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The lawyer tried to freeze him with a glance.
"And who are you, sir?" he asked icily.
"I am a detective attached to the Central Office."
"Where did you get this will?"
"I don't care to go into that matter now," snapped Britz.
"Perhaps you will inform me why you presumed to use my name in telephoning to Mrs. Collins?" persisted the lawyer.
"Because I wanted to see just what she would do."
"I hope your curiosity is satisfied."
"Quite satisfied."
"Then there is no reason for your remaining," said Luckstone. "I am the attorney for the receiver, and I am sure he does not require your presence."
Britz was on the point of making a sharp retort, but checked himself. He recalled the stern purpose of his visit, a purpose which he would execute relentlessly, yet not without feelings of the utmost pity. For the iron was hot, it was time to strike.
"I shall go," remarked the detective, "but I shall have to ask this lady to accompany me to Police Headquarters."
It required some effort of will to say it. The suffering which she endured had aroused in him a compa.s.sion to which he would have found it easy to yield. But having repelled the charitable impulse that threatened to wreck his carefully devised plan, he said with added firmness:
"I am ready to start as soon as she is."
"Why, what do you mean?" bellowed the lawyer. "This is an outrage! What the devil do you mean?"
"I mean that Mrs. Collins is under arrest," explained the detective.
CHAPTER XV
On hearing the ominous word, arrest, Mrs. Collins trembled and grew cold. She looked entreatingly from the detective to the lawyer, as if seeking some explanation of this new and entirely unexpected blow.
Britz, noting the helpless bewilderment of the woman, experienced a painful contraction of heart, as if it were ordained that he must share the suffering which he had inflicted on her. Presently she lifted her face to his in a look of silent protest, and he felt a stinging sense of shame at the shabby part he was compelled to play. But he remained firm.
"I am sorry, but I must insist that this lady come with me," he said with a note of sad determination in his voice.
"Oh, you're sorry!" echoed Luckstone ironically. "You'll be sorrier before you're through with this case. This is an outrage! On what charge do you arrest this lady?"
"On the charge that she has guilty knowledge of the murder of Herbert Whitmore," returned Britz.
"It's absurd," railed Luckstone. "Ridiculous! Why don't you accuse her of having killed Mr. Whitmore?"
"Perhaps I may," said Britz challengingly.
"It would be just like you blundering policemen," sneered the lawyer.
"Mrs. Collins, a lady of refinement, a gentlewoman in every sense of the word--is she to be dragged to Police Headquarters like a common felon?
You have observed her conduct here to-day. You've seen her anxiety for the depositors of this inst.i.tution. Her only thought was to save them from financial loss. Why, search her entire life and see whether you can discover a single base act that she has committed."
"My interest is confined to the Whitmore case," said Britz.
All this while Mrs. Collins sat outwardly resigned but inwardly rebellious against the injustice which was about to impose on her the humiliation of imprisonment. Now she arose with a sudden accession of new strength.
"Do you really believe me capable of committing murder?" she inquired resentfully.
It was as if she had just awakened from a long torpor and had determined to meet the danger which confronted her with all the weapons at her command. This recovery was precisely what Britz had been waiting for. It foreshadowed fight and the ensuing conflict promised certain revelations which were necessary for a clearer understanding of the circ.u.mstances surrounding Whitmore's death.
"Every human being, given sufficient cause, is capable of murder," the detective baited her. "We are all potential murderers."
She recoiled as from a blow. The detective's words could be interpreted only as an intimation of her guilt.
"I loved Mr. Whitmore," she said, deeply moved. "You don't understand."
"Then why don't you enlighten me?" he flashed.
She stood mute, her face drawn in an expression of pain.
"What enlightenment can I offer?" she asked weakly.
Britz's eyes narrowed on her, fixed themselves on her troubled countenance in a cold, scrutinizing stare.
"Who killed Herbert Whitmore?" he shot at her.
The question had the effect of a pistol report. She trembled, her color changed from pale to crimson, she pressed her hand to her heart as if to moderate its pulsations. Before she recovered from the violence of the emotions suddenly aroused in her, Luckstone had come to her a.s.sistance.
"Why do you ask that?" he demanded. "A moment ago you practically accused this lady of murder. Are you seeking incriminating admissions?
Or are you simply on a fis.h.i.+ng expedition?"
"I am trying to ascertain the truth," said Britz.
Luckstone turned toward the woman.
"As your attorney I instruct you not to answer this man's questions."
"And as one who has no other desire than to serve the ends of justice, I urge you to disregard your lawyer's advice," Britz appealed to her.
Between these conflicting forces she stood helpless, aware only of the danger which hung over her. Her lips moved as if to speak, but no word came from them.
"Madam," pursued Britz with increasing earnestness, "the man you loved has been murdered. There is a conspiracy on foot to s.h.i.+eld the murderer.
Those who know, who ought to be the first to come forward as the accusers, are maintaining a guilty silence. In the eyes of the law they are accessories after the fact. You are one of them. Whether you are the a.s.sa.s.sin or not, you know better than anyone else.
"All the circ.u.mstances point to you as being involved in Mr. Whitmore's death. You are the one who benefits most by his murder. No honest person hesitates to explain away incriminating circ.u.mstances. Silence is the common refuge of the guilty. If you are innocent you have only to speak, to declare the truth, and you shall be subjected to no embarra.s.sments at the hands of the law. I promise it."
She was shaken by this impa.s.sioned outburst of the detective, but before her wavering mind could come to any definite resolve, Luckstone again interposed.