THE FATAL PERIOD
As Kent walked into the library he found Colonel McIntyre by his side; the latter's even breathing gave no indication of the haste he had made down the staircase to catch up with Kent.
Detective Ferguson hardly noted their arrival, his attention being given wholly to the examination of the Venetian casket which had played such an important part in the drama of the night before.
The casket and its companion piece stood on either side of the room near a window recess.The long straight shape of the high boxes on their graceful base gave no indication of the use to which they had been put in ancient days, but made attractive as well as unique pieces of furniture.
Kent crossed the library and, after looking inside the casket, examined the exterior with care.
"Don't touch that crest," cautioned Ferguson, observing that Kent's glance remained focused on the blood-stained, raised letter "B"and the carving back of it."In fact, don't touch any part of the casket, I'm trying to get finger prints."Kent barely heard the warning as he turned to McIntyre.
"Haven't I seen that letter 'B' design on your stationery, Colonel?"he asked.
"Barbara uses it," was the reply."She fancied the antique lettering, and copied the 'B' for the engraver; she is handy with her pen, you know.""Did she wish the 'B' for a seal?" inquired Kent.
"Yes, she had a seal made like it also." McIntyre moved closer to the casket."Found anything, Ferguson?"The detective withdrew his head from the opening at the end of the casket, and regarded the furniture vexedly.
"Not a thing," he acknowledged."Except I am convinced that it required dexterity to slip Grimes inside the casket.The butler is small and slight, but he must have been unconscious from that tap on the forehead and, therefore, a dead weight.Whoever picked him up must have been some athlete, and" - running his eyes up and down Colonel McIntyre's well-knit, erect frame - "pretty familiar with the workings of this casket.""Pooh! It's not so difficult a feat," McIntyre shrugged his shoulders disdainfully."My daughters, as children, used to play hide and seek inside the casket with each new governess."Ferguson stepped forward briskly."Mr.Kent, let me see if I can lift you inside the casket; make yourself limp - that's it!" as Kent, entering into the investigation heart and soul, relaxed his muscles and fell back against the detective.
A moment later he was swung upward and pushed head-first inside the casket and the door closed.The air, though close, was not unpleasant and Kent, his eyes growing gradually accustomed to the dark interior, tried to discover the trap door at the top of the box but without success.Putting out his hands he felt along the top.The height of the casket did not permit him to sit up, so he was obliged to slide his body down toward his feet to feel along the sides of the casket.This maneuver soon brought his knees in violent contact with the top, and at the sound Ferguson opened the door and assisted him out.
"Had enough of it?" he asked, viewing Kent's reddened cheeks with faint amusement."I wonder if Grimes could breathe in there for any lengthy period.If so, it would help establish the time which elapsed between his being incarcerated and your finding him, Colonel.""How so?" demanded McIntyre.
"Well, if he couldn't get air and you hadn't discovered him at once, he'd have died," explained Ferguson."If you did find him immediately the person who knocked him down must have made a lightning escape.""Air does get in the casket in some way," broke in Kent."It wasn't so bad inside.Colonel McIntyre," Kent stopped a moment to remove a piece of red sealing wax clinging to the cuff of his suit.It had not been there when he entered the casket.Kent dropped the wax in his vest pocket as he again addressed his host."Who first discovered Grimes in the casket?""Mrs.Brewster."
"And what was Mrs.Brewster doing in the library at that hour?"glancing keenly at McIntyre as he put the question.
"She could not sleep and came down for a book," explained the Colonel.
Ferguson, who had walked several times around the library, looking behind first one and then the other of the seven doors, paused to ask:
"What attracted Mrs.Brewster's attention to the casket?""The blood stain on its side," McIntyre answered.
"What - that!" Ferguson eyed McIntyre incredulously."Come, sir, do you mean to tell me she noticed that little bit of a stain in a dark room?""She had an electric torch," shortly.
"But why should she turn the torch on this casket?" persisted the detective."She came to the library for a book, and the bookcases are in another part of the room.""Quite so, but the book she wished was lying on the top of this casket," replied McIntyre, meeting their level looks with one equally steadfast."I know because I left the book there."Ferguson glanced from McIntyre to Kent and back again at the Colonel in non-plussed silence.The explanation was pat.
"I'd like to talk with Mrs.Brewster," he remarked dryly.
"Certainly." McIntyre pressed an electric button.The summons was answered immediately by the new servant, Murray."Ask Mrs.Brewster if she can see Detective Ferguson in the library, Murray," McIntyre directed.
"Beg pardon, sir, but Mrs.Brewster has just gone out," and with a bow Murray withdrew.
Kent, who had drawn forward a chair preparatory to sitting down and participating in the interview with the widow, changed his mind.
"I must leave at once," he said, after consulting his watch.
"Please inform Mrs.Brewster, Colonel, that I will be in my office this afternoon, and I expect her to make me the visit she postponed this morning.Ferguson," turning back to address the detective, "you'll find me at the Saratoga for the next hour.Good morning,"and paying no attention to Colonel McIntyre's request to remain, he left the room.
