"He"ll be here soon."
"Has any one heard from Mrs. Brooks?"
"No. I would have gone over there, but I couldn"t leave you."
"You are a n.o.ble woman, Caroline." She was arranging his pillow and he was looking up at her. "You are too good for me."
"Please don"t say that," she pleaded.
"I might as well say it as to feel it. Isn"t it time for Henry to come?"
"Yes, I think so. He"ll be here soon, I"m sure."
"I hope I shan"t have to lie here to-morrow. I can"t, and that"s all there is about it."
He lay listening with the nervous ear of eagerness until so wearied by disappointing noises that he sank into another doze.
CHAPTER XXVI.
TOLD IT ALL.
Witherspoon started. "Ah, it"s you. Did you bring the evening papers?"
"Yes, here they are," Henry answered.
"What do they say? Can"t you tell me? Got the papers and can"t tell me what they say?"
"They say a great deal," Henry replied. "Brooks has made a confession."
In an instant Witherspoon sat on the edge of the bed, with the covers jerked about him. He opened his mouth, but no word came forth.
"When he was told that Mrs. Colton had made a statement he gave up,"
said Henry. "The confession is not a written one, but is doubtless much fuller than if it were. I will take the _Star"s_ report. They are all practically the same, but this one has a few pertinent questions.
I will skip the introduction.
""I confess," said Brooks, "that I killed the old man, but I did not murder him. I was trying to keep him from killing me. I had gone into a losing speculation and was in pressing need of money. I knew that it would be useless to ask him to help me; in fact, I didn"t want him to know that I had been speculating, and I decided to help myself. I knew that he kept money in the safe at home; I didn"t know how much, but I thought that it was enough to help me out, and I began deliberately to plan the robbery. I knew that it would have to be done in the most skillful manner, for the old man"s love of money made him as sharp as a briar when money was at stake; and I was resolved to have no confederates to share the reward and afterward to keep me in fear of exposure, I wrote a letter, and using the first name that came into my head, addressed it to "Dave Kittymunks, General Delivery, Chicago." I don"t know where I picked up the name, and it makes no difference. I ran up to Milwaukee, dropped the letter in a mail box and was back here before any one knew that I was out of town. I disguised myself with black whiskers, went to the post-office and called for the letter, and took care that the delivery clerk should notice me. Colton supposed that none but members of his family knew of the safe at home, and why a robber should know must be made clear; so, wearing the same disguise, I called at the house one day and told the servant in charge that I had been sent to search for sewer-gas. I showed an order. A shrewd colored man had been discharged on account of some irregularities into which I had entrapped him, and an ignorant fellow that had agreed to work for less had just been put in his place. One evening when our family visited the Witherspoons I perfected my arrangements. I sawed the iron bars at the window and placed the black coat, with the Kittymunks letter in the pocket, as if the sash had failed and caught it. It was necessary that the coat should be found, and it was hardly natural that it should be found lying in the yard, it must appear that in his haste to get away the robber was compelled to leave his coat, and this could not be done unless he was forced to get out of it, leaving the police to suspect that he had done so with a struggle. I had torn one sleeve nearly off. But the mere falling of the sash on the tail of the coat would not do, it would pull out too easily. Then I thought of the pipe. I arranged the safe so that with a chisel I could open it easily--it was an old and insecure thing, anyway--and then placed a ladder on the ground under the window. Here there is a paved walk, so there was no necessity to make tracks. Now, there was but one thing more, and that was a noise to sound like the falling of the sash, and which was to wake the old man so that he might jump up almost in time to catch the robber. I had almost forgotten this, and now it puzzled me. The vault-room, a narrow apartment, is between the old man"s room and mine, and I could have left the window up, propped with a stick, and from my window jerked out the prop, but the cool air would have shown the old man that the window was raised, and this would have ruined everything. Finally I decided that the falling of my own window--both are old-fashioned and are held up by a notched b.u.t.ton--would arouse him and that he would think that the noise came from the vault-room. I would prop it with the edge of the b.u.t.ton so that a slight pull on a string would throw it. But another question then arose. The weather was cold, and why should we have our window up so high? How should I explain to my wife?
I would build a roaring fire in the furnace. That would heat the room too hot and give me an excuse to raise the window. But she would find it down. I could tell her that the room cooled off and that I put it down. But I was quibbling with myself. Everything was settled. The hall-door of the vault-room is but a step from my own door, and was kept fastened with a spring lock and a bolt and was supposed never to be opened. I drew back the bolt and the catch, and fixed the catch so that I could easily spring it when I went out. When everything had thus been arranged, I went to Witherspoon"s to come home with the folks. The sky was clouded and the night was very dark. When we reached home the old man complained of having eaten too much--something he never had cause to complain of when he ate at home--and said that he believed he would lie down.
""The window of the vault-room was never raised by the old man, and was kept fastened down with an old-time cast-iron catch. I had broken this off; but, afraid that he might examine the window and the door, I went with him to his room. And when he went into the vault-room to light the gas, I stood in the door and talked to him about his intended investment, and I talked so positively of the great profit he would surely make that he looked at neither the door nor the window. Everything had worked well. I bade him and the old lady good night and went to my own room. My wife complained of the heat, and I raised the window, remarking that I would get up after a while and put it down. How dreadfully slow the time was after I went to bed! And when I thought that every one must be asleep, my wife startled me by asking if I had noticed how unusually feeble her mother looked. I imagined that some one was dragging the ladder from under the window, and once I fancied that I heard the old man call me. The thought, the possibility of committing murder never occurred to me. The positive knowledge that I should never be discovered and that I should get every dollar of his money would not have tempted me to kill him. I lay for a long time--until I knew that every one must be asleep. Then I carefully got out of bed. I struck a chair, and I waited to see if my wife had been awakened by the noise. No; she was sound asleep. I tied a string to the window b.u.t.ton, got my tools, which I had hidden in a closet and which were mainly intended for show after the robbery was discovered, and softly stole out. The hall was dark. The old man hated a gas-bill. I felt my way to the vault-room door and gently pushed it open, a little at a time. When I got inside I remembered that the very first thing I must attend to during the excitement which would follow the discovery of the robbery was to slip the bolt back in its place.
The gas appeared to be burning lower than usual, and I wondered if the prospect of parting with money enough to make the investment had driven the old man to one more turn of his screw of economy. Although I knew how to open the safe, for previous arrangement had made it easy, I found it to be some trouble after all. But I got it open and had taken out the money drawer when a noise startled me. I sprang up, and there was the old man. He was but a few feet from me. He had a pistol. I saw it gleam in the dim light. I couldn"t stand discovery, and I must protect myself against being shot. I knew that in the semi-darkness he did not recognize me. All this came with a flash. I sprang upon him. With one hand I caught the pistol, with the other I clutched his throat. I would choke him senseless and run back to my room. He threw up one hand, threw back his head and freed his throat.
We were under the gas jet. My hand struck the screw, and the light leaped to full blaze. At that instant the pistol fired and the old man fell, I wheeled about and was in the hall; I sprung the lock after me, and in a second I was in my own room--just as my wife, dazed with fright, had jumped out of bed. "Come," I cried, "something must have happened." And together we ran into the old man"s room."
""During the excitement which followed I forgot no precaution; I slipped the bolt back into place and removed the string from the b.u.t.ton of my own window. My wife was frantic. I did not suspect that the old woman had seen me, for I was not in the vault-room an instant after the pistol fired, and before that it was so dark that she could not have recognized me. If I had thought that she did see me"--
""What would you have done?" the reporter asked.
""I don"t know," Brooks answered, "but it is not reasonable to suppose that I would have let her go away from home. I acknowledge that I did not care to see her recover--now that I am acknowledging everything--for at best she could be only in the way, and naturally, she would interfere with my management of the estate. But if I had been anxious that she should die, I could have had her poisoned.
Instead, however, I employed a quack, who I knew pretended to be a great physician, and who I believed could do her no good. In fact, I didn"t think that she could live but a few days." After pausing for a moment he added, "She must have seen me just as the light blazed up, and was doubtless standing back from the door. I didn"t take any money."
""But why didn"t you take the money while the old man was away? Then you would have run no risk of killing him or of being killed."
""I could easily have done this, but he was so shrewd. I wanted him to believe that he had almost caught the robber."
""Then there is no such man as Dave Kittymunks," said the reporter.
""No," Brooks answered.
""But Flummers, the reporter, said that he knew him."
""I met Mr. Flummers one evening," Brooks replied, "and before we parted company I think that he must have had in his mind a vague recollection of having seen such a fellow. The public was eager, and that was a great stimulus to Mr. Flummers."
""Did you feel that you were suspected?" the reporter asked.
""Not of having committed the murder, but I felt that I was suspected of having had something to do with it. But I hadn"t a suspicion that any proof existed. I could stand suspicion, especially as I should receive large pay for it. A number of men in this city are under suspicion of one kind or another, but it doesn"t seem to have hurt them a great deal. Their checks are good. Men come back from the penitentiary and build up fortunes with the money they stole. Their hammered bra.s.s fronts and colored electric lights are not unknown to Clark Street."
""But you suffered remorse, of course," the reporter suggested.
""I think that there is a great deal of humbug about the remorse a man feels," Brooks replied. "I regretted that I had been forced to kill the old man, for with all his stinginess he was rather kind-hearted, but I had to save my own life. It is true that I didn"t have to commit the robbery, but robbery is not a capital crime."
""But the self-defense of a robber, when it results in a tragedy, is a murder," the reporter suggested.
""We"ll see about that," Brooks coolishly replied.
""Do you make this confession with the advice of your lawyer?"
""No, but at the suggestion of my own judgment. When I was told that the old woman had seen the killing and that, of course, her deposition would be introduced in court, I then knew that it was worse than useless to protest my innocence. Besides, as she saw it, the tragedy was a murder, but, as I confess it"--He hesitated.
""It is what?" the reporter asked.
""Well, that"s for the law to determine. There should always be some mercy for a man who tells the truth. I have done a desperate thing--I staked my future on it. But I have a.s.sociated with rich men so long that for me a future without money could be but a continuation of embarra.s.sment. I have helped to make the fortunes of other men, but I failed when I engaged in speculations for myself. I had prospects, it is true, but I didn"t know but Colton had arranged his will so as to prevent my using his money; and I had reason to fear that my wife was in touch with him,"
""Has she been to see you?" the reporter asked.
""That"s rather an impertinent question," Brooks replied, "but I may as well confess everything. We haven"t been getting along very well together. No, she hasn"t been to see me. Not one of my friends has called. There, gentlemen, I have told you everything.""
When the last word of the interview had been p.r.o.nounced, Witherspoon grunted and lay back with his hands clasped under his head.
"What do you think of it?" Henry asked.
"There"s hardly any room for thinking."
But he did think, and a few moments later he said: "Of all the cold-blooded scoundrels I ever heard of, he takes the lead. And just to think what I have done for him! I don"t think, though, that he has robbed us of much. He didn"t have the handling of a great deal of cash. Still I can"t tell. My, how sharp he is! He didn"t mention the Colossus. But what difference Would it make?" He sat up. "What need I care how often he mentions it? The public knows me. n.o.body ever had cause to question my credit. Why should I have been worried over him?
Henry, you are right; my trouble is the result of a physical cause.
Caroline, I"m going in to dinner with you."