MISS LLOYD'S CONFIDENCE
After Louis left me, I felt as if a dead weight had fallen on my heart. Florence Lloyd had gone down to her uncle's office late that night, and yet at the inquest she had testified that she had not done so. And even to me, when talking quietly and alone, she had repeated her false assertion. This much I knew, but why she had done if, I did not know. Not until I was forced to do so, would I believe that even her falsehood in the matter meant that she herself was guilty. There must be some other reason for her mendacity.
Well, I would find out this reason, and if it were not a creditable one to her, I would still endeavor to do all I could for her. I longed to see her, and try if perhaps kind and gentle urging might not elicit the truth. But she had left me with such an air of haughty disdain, I hesitated to send for her again just now. And as it was nearly dinner time, I resolved to go back to my hotel.
On the way, I came to the conclusion that it would do no harm to have a talk with Parmalee.
I had not much confidence in his detective ability, but he knew the people better than I did, and might be able to give me information of some sort.
After I reached the Sedgwick Arms I telephoned Parmalee to come over and dine with me, and he readily consented.
During dinner I told him all that I had learned from Elsa and Louis. Of course I had no right to keep this knowledge to myself, and, too, I wanted Parmalee's opinion on the situation as it stood at present.
"It doesn't really surprise me," he said, "for I thought all along, Miss Lloyd was not telling the truth. I'm not yet ready to say that I think she killed her uncle, although I must say it seems extremely probable. But if she didn't commit the deed, she knows perfectly well who did."
"Meaning Hall?"
"No, I don't mean Hall. In fact I don't mean any one in particular. I think Miss Lloyd was the instigator of the crime, and practically carried out its commission, but she may have had an assisting agent for the actual deed."
"Oh, how you talk! It quite gives me the shivers even to think of a beautiful young woman being capable of such thoughts or deeds."
"But, you see, Burroughs, that's because you are prejudiced in favor of Miss Lloyd. Women are capable of crime as well as men, and sometimes they're even more clever in the perpetration of it.
And you must admit if ever a woman were capable of crime, Miss Lloyd is of that type."
"I have to agree to that, Parmalee," I admitted; "she certainly shows great strength of character."
"She shows more than that; she has indomitable will, unflinching courage, and lots of pluck. If, for any reason, she made up her mind to kill a man, she'd find a way to do it."
This talk made me cringe all over, but I couldn't deny it, for so far as I knew Florence Lloyd, Parmalee's words were quite true.
"All right," I said, "I'll grant her capability, but that doesn't prove a thing. I don't believe that girl is guilty, and I hope to prove her innocence."
"But look at the evidence, man! She denied her presence in the room, yet we now know she was there. She denied the ownership of the gold bag, yet probably she was also untruthful in that matter. She is a woman of a complex nature, and though I admire her in many ways, I shouldn't care to have much to do with her."
"Let us leave out the personal note, Parmalee," I said, for I was angry at his attitude toward Florence.
"All right. Don't you think for a moment that I don't see where you stand with regard to the haughty beauty, but that's neither here nor there."
"Indeed it isn't," I returned; "and whatever may be my personal feeling toward Miss Lloyd, I can assure you it in no way influences my work on this case."
"I believe you, old man; and so I'm sure you will agree with me that we must follow up the inquiry as to Miss Lloyd's presence in the office that night. She must be made to talk, and perhaps it would be best to tell Goodrich all about it, and let him push the matter."
"Oh, no," I cried involuntarily. "Don't set him on the track of the poor girl. That is, Parmalee, let me talk to her again, first. Now that I know she was down there that night, I think I can question her in a little different manner, and persuade her to own the truth. And, Parmalee, perhaps she was down there because Hall was there."
"Hall! He was in New York."
"So he says, but why should he speak the truth any more than Miss Lloyd?"
"You, mean they may both be implicated?"
"Yes; or he may have used her as a tool."
"Not Florence Lloyd. She's nobody's tool."
"Any woman might be a tool at the command of the man she loves.
But," I went on, with an air of conviction which was not entirely genuine, "Miss Lloyd doesn't love Mr. Hall."
"I don't know about that," returned Parmalee; "you can't tell about a woman like Florence Lloyd. If she doesn't love him, she's at least putting up a bluff of doing so."
"I believe it is a bluff, though I'm sure I don't know why she should do that."
"On the other hand, why shouldn't she? For some reason she's dead set on marrying him, ready to give up her fortune to do so, if necessary. He must have some sort of a pretty strong hold on her."
"I admit all that, and yet I can't believe she loves him. He's such a commonplace man."
"Commonplace doesn't quite describe him. And yet Gregory Hall, with all the money in the world, could never make himself distinguished or worth while in any way."
"No; and what would Miss Florence Lloyd see in a man like that, to make her so determined to marry him?"
"I don't think she is determined, except that Hall has some sort of hold over her, - a promise or something, - that she can't escape."
My heart rejoiced at the idea that Florence was not in love with Hall, but I did not allow myself to dwell on that point, for I was determined to go on with the work, irrespective of my feelings toward her.
"You see," Parmalee went on, "you suspect Hall, only because you're prejudiced against him."
