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Updated: May 10, 2025
He knew he had the best of the argument so far and he looked forward to a double pleasure: the applause that would come to him as the result of Perry's conviction, and his own personal gratification at besting Braceway at his own game. He went into the unused bedroom and told Mattie to send Lucy Thomas to him there. While he waited, he closed the two windows.
Braceway and Maria Fulton had upon their faces that expression which announces a happy understanding between lovers. The light of surrender was in her eyes, contented surrender to the man who, because of his love, had asserted his mastery of her. And his voice, as he spoke to her, was all a vibrant tenderness.
It was your desire to clear Withers. But you know as well as I do that Withers isn't guilty. So, why worry?" Braceway sprang to his feet. "Morley isn't out of the woods yet," he said grimly. "This case isn't settled yet, by a long shot. I'm going to stick right here." He made no reference to Withers. Bristow went to his room, paid and dismissed Miss Martin, and began to undress.
For a long moment their glances interlocked and held. In a sharp, intuitive way Braceway felt that Bristow suspected his concern about George Withers. He did not know why he suspected it, but he did. He was convinced that the other, with his darting, analytical mind, had gone to the secret unerringly.
He felt physically very tired. But of one thing he was still certain: the strength of his case against Perry Carpenter. He chose to stick to that, much more stubbornly than Braceway had refused to consider minutely the exact situation of Withers in regard to the crime. If Withers had murdered his wife, circumstances were now ideally in his favour.
"What makes you say that?" The question was put sharply. "I've two reasons. In the first place, the facts and Withers' own story; in the second, common sense." The telephone rang. When Bristow answered it, a man's voice asked for Braceway. Major Ross himself was on the wire. "I had the man in Baltimore interviewed," he reported.
In spite of this, the paper continued, the dead woman's husband, arriving unexpectedly on the scene, had employed by wire Samuel S. Braceway, the professional detective of Atlanta, who would reach Furmville early this morning and, probably, work with Chief Greenleaf, Mr. Bristow, and the plain-clothes squad in the effort to remove all doubts of the guilt of the accused negro.
Braceway instinctively drew his chair closer to the bed so as to catch all of the scarcely audible words. "Just occurred to me," the sick man struggled on, "just before I had this hemor Ought to have somebody, extra man, working with Platt and Delaney. Tell you why: if Morley mailed the jewelry that night of the murder, he wasn't fool enough to mail it to himself or to his own house.
But, he reflected, that was exactly what Braceway was doing: not only disregarding one scintilla, but keeping himself blind to a great many clues, the evidence against George Withers and that against the negro. "I can't make out his game," he concluded. "What's his idea about scandal, I wonder? The only possible scandal lies in the fact that Mrs. Withers paid blackmail for years.
Braceway thought a moment. "You've a keen mind, Mr. Bristow," he said finally. "I can't discuss that phase of it now, but you're partially right; although I'll say frankly, if Morley wasn't going to Washington, I wouldn't go either." "Thanks; I appreciate your telling me that much. Now, let me ask one more question: why, exactly are you following Morley?"
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