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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Then why don't you tell me, Letty? Is it fair for you to keep silent?" "No, but then you must remember that I am Mr. Adams' private clerk, and he is working on this case in the interests of Miss Langmore." "I know he is working for her and I hope he clears her. I always thought she was a pretty nice kind of a girl, and I can't believe that she is guilty."
"Now, Miss Langmore," he exclaimed, as he straightened up at the conclusion of her recital, "whom do you suspect of this crime?" "I suspect no one, sir." "Have you any idea why this awful deed was committed?" The detective had been on the point of saying "murder" but had checked himself. "Not the least in the world." "Some of the windows were, of course, open. What of the doors?"
After his escape from the den, Adam Adams had gone to Stony Hill in secret, and there verified Matlock Styles' story that the Englishman had not been near the Langmore mansion during the time the murders were committed. So, from that crime, at least, the counterfeiter was apparently cleared. But this only made the mystery connected with the counterfeits in the safe so much deeper.
If his mother did not have it and wanted it she would have to go to Mr. Langmore for it. That might cause a bitterness all around. Or again, he might have thought that if his step-father were dead his mother would inherit his money and so plotted one murder, which, when he was discovered, ended in a second. It will do no harm to have a talk with this young man."
"Excuse me, but I think I saw you up to the Langmore house," he began. "Yes, I called on Miss Langmore. I believe you are Mrs. Langmore's son." "Yes. Come over, won't you?" Ostrello moved towards the window of the car. "I've got to have a smoke to quiet my nerves, I'm so upset. Will you have one?" And he presented a case full of choice Havana cigars.
He has had several talks with Letty Bernard, and she has advised him to speak to you, and tell you everything, whatever that may mean. The girl told him that you could clear him." "Humph! She takes a good deal for granted. Anything else?" "Do you know that Margaret Langmore has disappeared?" "So I heard, less than an hour ago." "They say she ran away to escape trial."
He was a strange individual, of no education, who lived on a hillside road, running some distance to the rear of the Langmore house. When the detective arrived there he found Carboy sitting under a tree smoking a short clay pipe.
They can't pitch it onto me nohow! I came past the house, that's all I did. I didn't go inside the gate, I didn't. It was Miss Langmore did that murder or else Mary Billings." "Did you see anybody round the place when you went past?" "Not a soul." "What were you doing around there?" "Are you an an officer?" "Perhaps I am. Anyway, you had best answer my questions."
She has told the police a thousand times that she had nothing to do with the crime." "Did Miss Langmore see anybody?" "She saw a Doctor Bird pass in his buggy and a farmer named Carboy go by on foot." "When was this?" "While she was at the piano. She doesn't know the exact time." There was a pause and the detective gave a faraway look out of the window and down the bustling thoroughfare.
Once more he went over the walls and the flooring, and even pounded on the iron door. It was all to no purpose. He was as close a prisoner as if encased in a stone tomb. "Perhaps they will leave me here until I either smother or starve to death," he reasoned. "It would be an easy way of disposing of me. And Miss Langmore and Mr. Case would wonder how I came to disappear so mysteriously."
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