"It was made fashionably, and the sleeves-well, it is impossible to describe the sleeves. She wore no wrap, which seemed foolish to me, for we have very sudden changes sometimes in September."
"A plaid dress! And did you notice her hat?"
"O, I have seen the hat often. It was of every conceivable color. It would have been called bad taste at one time, but now-a-days-"
The pause was significant. More than one man in the room chuckled, but the women kept a discreet silence.
"Would you know that hat if you saw it?"
"I should think I would!"
The emphasis was that of a countrywoman, and amused some people notwithstanding the melodious tone in which it was uttered. But it did not amuse me; my thoughts had flown to the hat which Mr. Gryce had found in the third room of Mr. Van Burnam's house, and which was of every color of the rainbow.
The Coroner asked two other questions, one in regard to the gloves worn by Mrs. Van Burnam, and the other in regard to her shoes. To the first, Miss Ferguson replied that she did not notice her gloves, and to the other, that Mrs. Van Burnam was very fashionable, and as pointed shoes were the fashion, in cities at least, she probably wore pointed shoes.
The discovery that Mrs. Van Burnam had been differently dressed on that day from the young woman found dead in the Van Burnam parlors, had acted as a shock upon most of the spectators. They were just beginning to recover from it when Miss Ferguson sat down. The Coroner was the only one who had not seemed at a loss. Why, we were soon destined to know.
XI – The Order Clerk
A lady well known in New York society was the next person summoned. She was a friend of the Van Burnam family, and had known Howard from childhood. She had not liked his marriage; indeed, she rather participated in the family feeling against it, but when young Mrs. Van Burnam came to her house on the preceding Monday, and begged the privilege of remaining with her for one night, she had not had the heart to refuse her. Mrs. Van Burnam had therefore slept in her house on Monday night.
Questioned in regard to that lady's appearance and manner, she answered that her guest was unnaturally cheerful, laughing much and showing a great vivacity; that she gave no reason for her good spirits, nor did she mention her own affairs in any way,-rather took pains not to do so.
"How long did she stay?"
"Till the next morning."
"And how was she dressed?"
"Just as Miss Ferguson has described."
"Did she bring her hand-bag to your house?"
"Yes, and left it there. We found it in her room after she was gone."
"Indeed! And how do you account for that?"
"She was preoccupied. I saw it in her cheerfulness, which was forced and not always well timed."
"And where is that bag now?"
"Mr. Van Burnam has it. We kept it for a day and as she did not call for it, sent it down to the office on Wednesday morning."
"Before you had heard of the murder?"
"O yes, before I had heard anything about the murder."
"As she was your guest, you probably accompanied her to the door?"
"I did, sir."
"Did you notice her hands? Can you say what was the color of her gloves?"
"I do not think she wore any gloves on leaving; it was very warm, and she held them in her hand. I remembered this, for I noticed the sparkle of her rings as she turned to say good-bye."
"Ah, you saw her rings!"
"Distinctly."
"So that when she left you she was dressed in a black and white plaid silk, had a large hat covered with flowers on her head, and wore rings?"
"Yes, sir."
And with these words ringing in the ears of the jury, the witness sat down.
What was coming? Something important, or the Coroner would not look so satisfied, or the faces of the officials about him so expectant. I waited with great but subdued eagerness for the testimony of the next witness, who was a young man by the name of Callahan.
I don't like young men in general. They are either over-suave and polite, as if they condescended to remember that you are elderly and that it is their duty to make you forget it, or else they are pert and shallow and disgust you with their egotism. But this young man looked sensible and business-like, and I took to him at once, though what connection he could have with this affair I could not imagine.
His first words, however, settled all questions as to his personality: He was the order clerk at Altman's.
As he acknowledged this, I seemed to have some faint premonition of what was coming. Perhaps I had not been without some vague idea of the truth ever since I had put my mind to work on this matter; perhaps my wits only received their real spur then; but certainly I knew what he was going to say as soon as he opened his lips, which gave me quite a good opinion of myself, whether rightfully or not, I leave you to judge.
His evidence was short, but very much to the point. On the seventeenth of September, as could be verified by the books, the firm had received an order for a woman's complete outfit, to be sent, C.O.D., to Mrs. James Pope at the Hotel D-, on Broadway. Sizes and measures and some particulars were stated, and as the order bore the words In haste underlined upon it, several clerks had assisted him in filling this order, which when filled had been sent by special messenger to the place designated.
Had he this order with him?
He had.
And could he identify the articles sent to fill it?
He could.
At which the Coroner motioned to an officer and a pile of clothing was brought forward from some mysterious corner and laid before the witness.
Immediately expectation rose to a high pitch, for every one recognized, or thought he did, the apparel which had been taken from the victim.
The young man, who was of the alert, nervous type, took up the articles one by one and examined them closely.
As he did so, the whole assembled crowd surged forward and lightning-like glances from a hundred eyes followed his every movement and expression.
"Are they the same?" inquired the Coroner.
The witness did not hesitate. With one quick glance at the blue serge dress, black cape, and battered hat, he answered in a firm tone:
"They are."
And a clue was given at last to the dreadful mystery absorbing us.
The deep-drawn sigh which swept through the room testified to the universal satisfaction; then our attention became fixed again, for the Coroner, pointing to the undergarments accompanying the articles already mentioned, demanded if they had been included in the order.
There was as little hesitation in the reply given to this question as to the former. He recognized each piece as having come from his establishment. "You will note," said he, "that they have never been washed, and that the pencil marks are still on them."
"Very good," observed the Coroner, "and you will note that one article there is torn down the back. Was it in that condition when sent?"
"It was not, sir."
"All were in perfect order?"
"Most assuredly, sir."
"Very good, again. The jury will take cognizance of this fact, which may be useful to them in their future conclusions. And now, Mr. Callahan, do you notice anything lacking here from the list of articles forwarded by you?"
"No, sir."
"Yet there is one very necessary adjunct to a woman's outfit which is not to be found here."
"Yes, sir, the shoes; but I am not surprised at that. We sent shoes, but they were not satisfactory, and they were returned."
"Ah, I see. Officer, show the witness the shoes that were taken from the deceased."
This was done, and when Mr. Callahan had examined them, the Coroner inquired if they came from his store. He replied no.
Whereupon they were held up to the jury, and attention called to the fact that, while rather new than old, they gave signs of having been worn more than once; which was not true of anything else taken from the victim.