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Updated: May 7, 2025
Then the two pairs of eyes veered round inquiringly, and followed the strangers up the broken staircase and saw one of them knock at the door which faced the building. Richard's hasty tap bringing no response, he lifted the latch without further ceremony and stepped into the chamber, Mr. Taggett a pace or two behind him.
"Where were Coroner Whidden's eyes and ears," wrote Mr. Taggett, the words were dashed down impatiently on the page, as if he had sworn a little internally while writing them, "when he conducted that inquest! In all my experience there was never a thing so stupidly managed." A thorough and immediate examination of Richard Shackford's private workshop was now so imperative that Mr.
"I mean, sir," replied the latter, slightly nettled, "that it sometimes seems as if the Lord himself took charge of a case." "Certainly you are entitled to the credit of going to the bottom of this one." "I have skillfully and laboriously damaged my reputation, Mr. Shackford." Mr. Taggett said this with so heavy an air that Richard felt a stir of sympathy in his bosom.
The conjecture that Lemuel Shackford had himself torn up the will if it was a will, for this still remained in dispute had never been satisfactory to Mr. Taggett. He had accepted it because he was unable to imagine an ordinary burglar pausing in the midst of his work to destroy a paper in which he could have no concern.
"If I could speak candidly, Margaret, if I could express myself without putting you into a passion, I would tell you that Richard's passing the night with that man has given me two or three ugly ideas." "Positively, papa, you are worse than Mr. Taggett." "I shall not say another word," replied Mr. Slocum.
He engaged a state-room on the Fall River boat this morning." "How can you know that?" "Since last Tuesday none of his movements have been unknown to me." "Do you mean to say that you have set your miserable spies upon him?" cried Mr. Slocum. "I should not state the fact in just those words," Mr. Taggett answered. "The fact remains." "Pardon me," said Mr. Slocum. "I am not quite myself.
You might have taken him for a physician, or a journalist, or the secretary of an insurance company; but you would never have supposed him the man who had disentangled the complicated threads of the great Barnabee Bank defalcation. Stillwater's confidence, which had risen into the nineties, fell to zero at sight of him. "Is that Taggett?" they asked.
The testimony of an eye-witness of the crime could scarcely add to my knowledge of what occurred that Tuesday night in Lemuel Shackford's house." "Indeed, it is all so clear! But of course a few eye-witnesses will turn up eventually," said Mr. Slocum, whose whiteness about the lips discounted the assurance of his sarcasm. "That is not improbable," returned Mr. Taggett.
"I don't let persons slip through my fingers." Richard curbed an impatient rejoinder, and said quietly, "William Durgin had an accomplice." Mr. Taggett flushed, as if Richard had read his secret thought. Durgin's flight, if he really had fled, had suggested a fresh possibility to Mr. Taggett. What if Durgin were merely the pliant instrument of the cleverer man who was now using him as a shield?
Taggett himself left Stillwater, having apparently given up the case; a proceeding which was severely criticized, not only in the columns of The Stillwater Gazette, but by the townsfolks at large, who immediately relapsed into a state of apprehension approximating that of the morning when the crime was discovered. Mr.
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