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"That is precisely what I mean. She may consult with counsel at a reasonable hour of the day. But she may not receive other visitors until she has been committed to the Tombs."
"Do you--do you intend to send her there?" demanded Ward, his anger mounting.
"She will be regularly committed--it is merely a matter of routine."
"But you are making a grave mistake," pleaded the brother. "Isn't there some way of preventing this additional humiliation?"
"There is a way," said Britz calmly.
"How?" inquired Ward eagerly.
"By giving us the full story of Mr. Whitmore's death as you know it."
"But I can't--I'm not at liberty to talk," protested Ward. "I am acting under Mr. Luckstone's instructions."
"I thought so," Britz returned dryly. "So we'll let the law take its course."
"And I'm not permitted to see her to-night?" pleaded Ward.
"No," said Britz curtly. Then, after a moment, he added: "If you will call here at 10 o'clock to-morrow morning, I may convince you of the desirability of acting with the police, instead of against them."
When Ward was out of the room, Britz turned smilingly on the chief.
"I'm about ready for the grand climax," he said.
"That so?"--mockingly from the chief.
"Yes. I've tried all the lines of least resistance," continued the detective, unresentful of the other's aggravating manner. "They led me against a wall of silence. Now I'm going to discharge my heavy ordnance against the wall."
"Got something up your sleeve--eh!" drawled Manning.
"Not up my sleeve--in my mind," said Britz, tapping his forehead. "I wanted to save Mrs. Collins as much notoriety as possible. I could see no use in parading all her domestic troubles before the public. So I gave her a chance to take me into her confidence, but she refused. She, or Collins, or Beard, or Ward, could have saved us all a deal of trouble by breaking silence. Everyone of them knows what we are furiously striving to learn. I addressed myself to each of them individually, tried to obtain enlightenment from each. Now I shall fight them collectively--I'll get the truth, regardless of whom I have to crush in the process of extraction."
The chief shook his head dubiously.
"It looks to me now as if you're all in a muddle. You've got two of them under arrest--why don't you lock up Ward and Collins and have them all in jail? Then you'd be sure to have the guilty party."
"I shall see to it that Beard obtains his liberty to-morrow," was Britz's reply.
"And then what?"
"Then for the grand climax," said Britz.
CHAPTER XIX
The first thing Britz did the following morning was to call the Chief of Police of Atlanta on the telephone.
"Yes, I've arranged for the writ of habeas corpus," said the Atlanta chief in response to Britz's questions. "I've also induced the Federal district-attorney not to oppose the man's discharge. Yes, I also saw the prisoner last night at the jail. He's worried to death that he'll be rearrested and given a long term for aiding Whitmore to escape."
"I've helped the Federal authorities when they required local a.s.sistance," replied Britz. "So I feel confident they'll agree to grant him immunity for helping us to solve this murder case. When do you think you can obtain his release?"
"This morning, I hope."
"Then he should be in New York to-morrow morning?"
"Yes."
Next Britz called up the coroner.
"Coroner," he said, "I want you to discharge Beard from prison. Mrs.
Collins will be arraigned in Jefferson Market Court this morning and remanded to your custody. She'll have to stay in the Tombs until to-morrow, when I'm going to ask you to continue your preliminary investigation of Whitmore's death. Will you hold court down here?"
"Why all this maneuvering?" inquired the coroner.
"It is necessary," Britz a.s.sured him. "We'll solve this case to-morrow, if you help me."
"Very well!" the coroner agreed.
For half an hour Britz devoted himself to the reports of his various subordinates. He learned that Ward had spent the night in his home, while Collins and the detective a.s.signed to guard him, occupied a room in a Broadway hotel. Britz was interrupted in the further perusal of the reports by the doorman.
"Mr. Lester Ward is outside."
"Tell him to wait--and see that he does wait!" directed the detective.
It was a quarter of eleven before Britz was ready to receive his visitor. Ward found the detective with hat and coat on, prepared to leave the building. He had just received a telephone message from one of his men at Delmore Park.
"I'm on my way to the coroner's office," said Britz. "Come along!"
Still dazed by the crowded incidents of the last twenty-four hours, Ward followed the detective to the Criminal Court House, on the ground floor of which the coroner's office is situated. They found Coroner Hart in his private room, engrossed in the routine of his work.
"Just a word, coroner!" Britz called him aside.
The two held a whispered consultation, after which the coroner returned to his desk. Britz and Ward occupied chairs at the farther end of the room, near the window. Half an hour pa.s.sed, in which neither of them spoke. Presently an attendant entered and whispered to the coroner.
"Bring Horace Beard over from the Tombs!" the coroner said aloud.
Ward began to display signs of uneasiness.
"Must I meet him?" he inquired.
"It won't do any harm," Britz replied.
A moment later the door opened again, and was held ajar by the attendant. Ward tried to avert his gaze from the swinging portal, but his eyes insensibly wandered back to the spot through which his successful rival in love must enter. Suddenly the banker leaped out of his seat and stood stiffly erect, gazing tensely at the attractively slim figure of Josephine Burden.
"Joe!" he called, advancing timorously.