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Updated: May 12, 2025
In the flash of each passing street-light her face showed waxen pale, a cameo against the dark background; so drawn and pinched were her features, that Brencherly, in panic, seized her pulse, in order to assure himself that life had not already fled. Obedient to his orders the cab ran up to an hotel entrance, and Brencherly, leaning out, called the starter.
But before him rose the vision of the boyish, candid face, as the detective had taken the Great Man's proffered hand, the honesty in his voice as he had given his word "I'll do my best, sir," and into Gard's black despair crept a pale ray of hope. Gard had not been mistaken when he surmised that Brencherly must inevitably connect the murder with the sequence of events.
He sealed and directed the letter, as Brencherly was admitted. Gard turned and eyed the young man sharply, wondering how much, how little he dared tell him. "Brencherly," he said slowly, "I'm giving you the biggest commission of your life. You've got to take my place here, for I'm going to the front. I've got to rely on you, and if you fail me, well, you know me that's enough.
Marteen's safe; he, himself, had told him that those efforts had been successful. Brencherly knew of Mrs. Marteen's sudden return, her visit to her home and her mysterious disappearance. The motive of the murder was supplied, the disappearance accounted for. Already the detective's trained mind had doubtless pieced together the fragments of these broken lives.
"Does that answer my question, sir?" Again Brencherly gasped at his own temerity. "Young man," bellowed Gard, half rising from his chair, "what are you trying to infer?" Brencherly stood up. "Please, Mr. Gard, be frank with me. I want to help you; I want to see you through. It can be done I'm sure of it. No one knows about your trouble with Mahr.
We got the doctor from the asylum here as quickly as possible. He's with her in there now." The attorney sat silent a moment, nodding his head slowly. "I'll see her, Gard," he said at length. "This is a strange story," he added, as Brencherly disappeared into the anteroom.
Even when he brought up the name himself with a casual mention of the possibility of acquiring the Heim Vandyke, there was nothing said to give him an opportunity to speak and he was breathless for details, to learn if his ruse had succeeded. At last he called Brencherly, both Denning and Langley endeavoring to divert him from his intention. "Yes, yes," snapped Gard; "what's the news?"
"Ai, sir," Brencherly answered promptly. "Exceptionally fine woman very intelligent. I should say that, with a word from you, she ought to be able to handle the situation, and any girl living. But the boy's all right, Mr. Gard, even if Mahr isn't. And after all, there may not be a word of truth in that romance I spun to you. We couldn't land a thing.
I'm just specialized, that's all. I want to help, and I can if you'll let me." Gard's face underwent a kaleidoscopic series of changes; then astonishment and relief finally triumphed, and were followed by hysterical laughter. Brencherly was disconcerted. "Oh, so you think I did it!" he said at last. "I wish I had!" he added. "That wouldn't worry me in the least." "Mrs. Marteen!"
However, once at the hotel, he made all arrangements to have a call transferred, and opened connection with Brencherly. He was shaking with nervousness. "Any news?" he asked. "None, Mr. Gard, I'm sorry," the detective's voice sounded over the wire, "except that I've followed your instructions with regard to the young lady. I've not left the 'phone, sir; slept right here in your armchair.
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