ISABEL OSTRANDER: Mystery & Western Classics: One Thirty, The Crevice, Anything Once, The Fifth Ace & Island of Intrigue. Isabel Ostrander
before this. What could be detaining him? She tried to be patient, to calm her seething brain while she waited, but it was no use. Hours passed while she paced the floor, restlessly, and the dusk settled into the darkness of early winter. Wilkes came to turn on the lights, but she refused them—she could think better in the dark. The dinner-hour came and went and twice Ellen knocked anxiously upon the door, but Anita, torn with anxiety, would pay no heed. She had telephoned to Ramon’s office, only to find that he had left there immediately upon receiving her message; to his home—he had not returned.
Nine o’clock sounded in silvery chimes from the clock upon the mantel; then ten and eleven and at length, just when she felt that she could endure no more, the front door-bell rang. A well-known step sounded upon the stairs, and Ramon entered.
With a little gasp of joy and relief she flung herself upon him in the darkness, but at an involuntary groan from him she recoiled.
“What is it, Ramon? What has happened to you?”
Without waiting for a reply she switched on the light.
Ramon stood before her, his face pale, his eyes dark with pain. One arm was in a sling and the thick hair upon his forehead barely concealed a long strip of plaster.
“Nothing really serious, dear. I had a slight accident—run down by a motor-car, just after leaving the office. My head was cut and I was rather knocked out, so they took me to a hospital. I would have come before, but they would not allow me to leave. I knew that you would be anxious because of my delay in coming, but I feared to add to your apprehension by telephoning to you from the hospital.”
“But your arm—is it sprained?”
“Broken. I had a nasty crash—can’t imagine how it was that I didn’t see the car coming in time to avoid it. It was a big limousine with several men inside, all singing and shouting riotously, and the chauffeur, I think, must have been drunk, for he swerved the car directly across the road in my path. They never stopped after they had bowled me over, and no one seemed to know where they went.”
“Then the police did not get their number?”
“No, but they will, of course. Not that I care, particularly; I’m lucky to have got off as lightly as I did. I might have been killed.”
“It was a miracle that you were not, Ramon. Do you know what I believe? I don’t think it was any accident, but a deliberate attempt to assassinate you; to keep you from coming to me.”
“What nonsense, dear! They were a wild, hilarious party, careless and irresponsible. Such accidents happen every day.”
“I am convinced that it was no accident. Ramon, I feel that I am to be the victim of a conspiracy; that you are the only human being who stands in the way of my being absolutely in the power of those who would defraud me and defame father’s name.”
“Anita, what do you mean?”
“Dr. Franklin called upon me this afternoon; he left just before I telephoned to you. He told me an astonishing piece of news. Ramon, would you have considered my father a rich man?”
“What an absurd question, dear! Of course. One of the richest men in the whole country, as you know.”
“You say that he consulted you about his business affairs, and that you knew of no trouble or difficulty which could have caused him anxiety? His securities in stocks and bonds, his assets were all sound?”
“Certainly. What do you mean?”
“I mean that my father died a pauper! That on the word of Mr. Rockamore, Mr. Mallowe, Mr. Carlis and Dr. Franklin, he was on the verge of dishonorable bankruptcy, into which I may not inquire.”
“Good Heavens, they must be mad! I am sure that your father was at the zenith of his successful career, and as for dishonor, surely, Anita, no one who knew him could credit that!”
“Mr. Rockamore and the other two who were so closely associated with him made a solemn promise to my father shortly before his death, it seems, that they would care for and provide for me. They sent Dr. Franklin to me this afternoon to explain the circumstances to me, and to assure me of their protection. Save for you, they consider me absolutely in their hands; and when I sent for you, you were almost killed in the attempt to come to me. Ramon, don’t you see, don’t you understand, there is some mystery on foot, some terrible conspiracy? That unknown visitor, my father’s death so soon after, and now this sudden revelation of his bankruptcy, together with this accident to you? Ramon, we must have advice and help. I do not believe that my father was a pauper. I know that he has done nothing dishonorable; I am convinced that the accident to you was a premeditated attempt at murder.”
“My God! I can’t believe it, Anita; I don’t know what to think. If it turns out that there really is something crooked about it all, and Rockamore and the others are concerned in it, it will be the biggest conspiracy that was ever hatched in the world of high finance. You were right, dear, bless your woman’s intuition; we must have help. This matter must be thoroughly investigated. There is only one man in America to-day, who is capable of carrying it through, successfully. I shall send at once for the Master Mind.”
“The Master Mind?”
“Yes, dear—Henry Blaine, the most eminent detective the English-speaking world has produced.”
“I have heard of him, of course. I think father knew him, did he not?”
“Yes, on one occasion he was of inestimable service to your father. I will summon him at once.”
Ramon went to the telephone and by good luck found the detective free for the moment and at his service.
He returned to the girl. She noticed that he reeled slightly in his walk; that his lips were white and set with pain.
“Ramon, you are ill, suffering. That cut on your head and your poor arm—”
“It is nothing. I don’t mind, Anita darling; it will soon pass. Thank Heavens, I found Mr. Blaine free. He will get to the truth of this matter for us even if no one else on earth could. He has brought more notorious malefactors to justice than any detective of modern times; fearlessly, he has unearthed political scandals which lay dangerously close to the highest executives of the land. He cannot be cajoled, bribed or intimidated; you will be safe in his hands from the machinations of every scoundrel who ever lived.”
“I have read of some of his marvelous exploits, but; what service was it that he rendered to my father?”
“I—I cannot tell you, dearest. It was very long ago, and a matter which affected your father solely. Perhaps some time you may learn the truth of it.”
“I may not know! I may not know! Why must I be so hedged in? Why must everything be kept from me? I feel as if I were living in a maze of mystery. I must know the truth.”
She wrung her hands hysterically, but he soothed her and they talked in low tones until Wilkes suddenly appeared in the doorway and announced:
“Mr. Henry Blaine!”
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