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And that vengeful passion must not be permitted to expend itself in profitless inward torture. It was a potent force for Britz's dexterous hands to manipulate, a destructive fury that should annihilate Beard if Beard was the slayer of Herbert Whitmore. Like one inspired by a great purpose, Britz moved with the human current down Broadway.
But I've found the way to make them talk I know where their interests conflict and to-morrow I shall bring them in violent conflict with each other. The result is inevitable." It was plain from their expressions that Manning and Greig did not share Britz's confidence. They could foresee only disaster.
In the lighted shelter of the booth they paused, silently regarding each other, each waiting for the other to speak. "Now that our most valuable witness is dead what next?" finally asked Greig. "The immediate necessity is to ascertain where Whitmore was during the six weeks of his absence from business," was Britz's unhesitating reply.
"That is all!" Britz dismissed him. This dramatic interruption of the hearing served to increase the strained expectancy with which those in the room had followed the proceedings. A dozen times Manning and Greig had experienced a darting sense of alarm as Britz's case threatened to collapse.
So that even before Britz began issuing instructions to his men and sending them scurrying out of the building, the reporters at Police Headquarters appeared to know that something of the utmost importance was about to transpire. That it concerned the Whitmore case became evident when Mrs. Collins was escorted to the building and ushered into Britz's office.
At the same time he placed a seat for her next to Mrs. Collins. An expression of pity overspread the girl's face as she beheld the lines of suffering in the other woman's countenance, and, as she dropped into a chair provided for her, her hand stole into Mrs. Collins's palm. "Why what does this mean?" she asked timorously, lifting her eyes to meet Britz's glance.
"I have been appointed receiver by the United States District Court," answered the man who had addressed the crowd from the half-open door. "An involuntary petition in bankruptcy has been filed against Ward & Co. It looks to me like an awful failure." Britz's eyes traveled about the office in search of Ward. But the head of the firm was not to be seen.
Evidently drawing courage from Britz's preoccupation and from the bewildered inactivity of the other officers, Beard bent forward until his hand touched the floor, and, after groping for an instant beneath the head of the couch, again drew himself to an erect posture. "I'll take that paper!" Britz's voice broke the silence. A tremor shook Beard's frame, while the blood drained from his face.
Manning and Greig looked at each other in blank bewilderment. In the light of Britz's explanation of the case, his confident assertion could only be regarded as a vain boast. Or was it the expression of a last, flickering hope, to which he clung desperately, like a man staking his last dollar on a thousand-to-one chance?
"Then how did he get in?" demanded the coroner. "Through the wall? Or did he fire through the ceiling or floor?" "As I said before, there is no secret panel in this room," was Britz's rejoinder. "Then you believe Mr. Whitmore committed suicide?" suddenly fired the coroner. "No."
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