As every one moved rather uncertainly to obey, Will Clinton, the chemist, spoke hesitantly.
“I fancy I had better tell you now, lieutenant, before you find out for yourself,” he said. “I had a grievance against the professor. Some months ago he promised to let me into this secret of the diamond making. I was frankly incredulous and he promised to take me in as a partner. He has never done so and each time he put me off. He owed me money, several thousand, and that is why he promised to do this. I said that if he convinced me that he could actually manufacture diamonds we would cancel the debt.”
“I see,” said the lieutenant slowly. “All right. Thank you for your frankness, Mr. Clinton. If any one can think of anything else. That sort of thing saves me probably a good bit of work.”
Harmer gave a sudden, short laugh, not a pleasant laugh. His eyes met those of Caresse fleetingly.
“I suppose I may as well confess that I own a violin, and that I can also play it,” he said. “But I’ve never played the funeral march. Jazz is more in my line.”
Chapter VIII
Too Many Combinations
For a moment the lieutenant looked about the small circle with a frown. He knew just what he was up against. As soon as that door was unlocked and these people released all sorts of things might happen. Never again would he have them completely in his power as he had them now, with the body of the murdered man at their feet. The murderer was there where he could handcuff him with no effort whatever and yet he had no idea which of the professor’s guests he was. Or she. Could Caresse, that flame of a girl with the smoldering eyes, have taken the dagger-like pin from her chum’s hair and stabbed her husband? It was possible. A woman’s youth and loveliness did not bar her from being a criminal, Lieutenant Williams knew well.
Yet somehow he was inclined to think this a man’s job. It had taken strength to plunge that dagger into the professor’s heart, strength and accuracy in the dark.
“Is this the best you can do?” he asked, looking about at the little group. “Are you all perfectly sure you were in these positions when that light went out?”
They assured him eagerly that they were, to the best of their recollection.
“Then Mr. Farren was closest to the light switch,” said the lieutenant thoughtfully.
“It seems that I was,” said the lawyer grimly.
“You saw no one brush past you?” asked Williams. “They would have to, you know, to reach that switch.”
“I was not conscious of anything like that,” said Farren firmly. “I was anxious to see what Saleworth would get from that crucible.”
“So were we all,” said Clinton with a short, uncomfortable laugh. “But you see, lieutenant, this room is so small, almost any of us, grouped as we were, could have reached out for that switch. Miss Price could have, or myself, or Farren, or Frisby. Speaking for myself, I can swear I would never have noticed. I was so dead anxious to see what Saleworth found when he opened the crucible.”
“Yes,” said the lieutenant grimly, “the moment was chosen well. Yet one of you put out that light and stabbed Professor Wheatland. I say to that person now that it is only a matter of time before I expose him, before I arrest him. I shall never stop until I solve this mystery. It is going to be a big case, as you all must realize. I cannot afford to be called in as the professor called me, and asked for aid, and then be present during the actual murder and fall down on the case. One man here in this little room is doomed. He need not think for one moment that he can get away with this.”
Eddie Harmer was rolling himself a cigarette. He had done so frequently during the evening, Williams had noted. His long, slim fingers were entirely steady, and his eyes met the lieutenant’s gravely.
“This is as serious for us as it is for you, lieutenant,” he said. “If you do fall down on it, we shall all be under a cloud the rest of our lives.”
“And even though the professor’s dinner speech would seem to let me out,” put in Saleworth, “I cannot be considered innocent. I was in here with all of you, locked into this small space. I must accept the same position the rest of you are in.”
“Will you let us out now?” gasped Linda Price, looking appealing at the lieutenant. “I cannot stand it in here another moment.”
She looked on the edge of fainting and Williams fancied he saw raw panic in her eyes. But why? The girl was nothing but a guest. The best friend of Caresse Wheatland. Even so, why should she be so frightened? The lieutenant watched her shaking fingers rearranging her hair.
“I’d like to say one thing,” said Frisby then briskly, putting away his notebook in which he had been busily writing. “That is, that in my opinion, there is no formula and no process to this diamond making. The professor is simply — was, I should say — a slick magician. He put it over on everybody for some reason of his own. He smuggled those gems into that crucible each time, somehow. He must have. And so all that stuff about the criminal wanting to kill him for the formula and the chance to make diamonds himself, is nonsense. The criminal probably killed him for some private grievance and possibly, for a chance to win Caresse. The professor had plenty of enemies. But there is nothing but a trick to this diamond stuff. However, it is going to be written up by me as ‘The Diamond Death’ and it’ll go big you can bet, in the morning editions.”
“Has the professor ever been abroad, Mrs. Wheatland?” asked the lieutenant, coming out of deep thought and paying no attention to the reporter.
“No.”
“I see what you are getting at,” nodded Saleworth brightly. “The diamonds. If it was trickery, he must have had a lot of them here close by, probably in this room.”
Williams did not reply. He continued to study the faces in the group and his manner made them all exceedingly uncomfortable. Linda Price shrank into a corner with her hands over her eyes and Caresse put an arm about her.
“I think there is too much smoking in this room, gentlemen,” said the lieutenant suddenly, picking up a small dish from the desk top. “Just place your cigars and cigarettes in this, if you please.”
Without demur the surprised gentlemen dropped their cigars and cigarettes in the receptacle, handed them by the lieutenant. And before them all Williams picked up in his slender wiry fingers the cigarette Eddie Harmer had just rolled and lighted. Unrolling it he shook the tobacco from it and held it close to his eyes for a tense moment.
Lifting his head he shot Harmer a glance which would have made any other man cringe under the circumstances, but which slid off young Harmer like water from a duck’s back, leaving him indifferently amused and rather brazen.
“Harmer, there is upon the inside of this cigarette paper the combination to the lock of this door,” he said sharply. “Explain that, if you please.”
“Easy,” shrugged Harmer. “The moment the professor died, while you were examining him Caresse whispered it to me. She said she felt sure she would not have another chance. I wrote it down on one of my cigarette papers because I saw the fix we were in and I figured on a search and all sorts of stunts before we got out of here. My memory is about an inch long and I felt sure during all the stuff we were in for, I’d get that darn combination mixed up.”
An ominous silence settled upon the room. In the lieutenant’s ears the professor’s voice seemed to be speaking. Had Caresse, after all, branded the man she loved, the guilty man?
“And why did Mrs. Wheatland give you the combination of the door?” asked Williams quietly.
“She thinks there is a cache of diamonds in this room and she wanted me to try to find it,” said Harmer frankly. “She was afraid she would not get a chance to tell me again nor a chance to look herself after this. I know she has stolen in here whenever she could to examine the place.”