the wound have been self-inflicted?” asked the coroner.
“So far as its position is concerned, yes; but it is improbable that a man could have sufficient force of nerve to stab himself in that manner, for it meant a sure, strong drive of the weapon. Also, it is improbable that after that thrust the victim could live long enough to draw out the weapon and hide or dispose of it. And I understand it has not been found.”
“No,” returned Mr. Mellen; “it has not yet been found, but it may be eventually discovered. It is your opinion, then, Doctor Mason, that David Van Wyck was not a suicide?”
“That is my opinion,” returned Doctor Mason positively.
Chapter X.
Further Evidence
Next came Barclay Lasseter, the secretary.
“Your name and position?” asked the coroner, curtly.
For some reason the young man showed rather a defiant attitude.
“I am Barclay Lasseter, and my position was that of secretary to David Van Wyck.”
“Confidential secretary?”
“Yes, private and confidential secretary.”
“For how long have you held that position?”
“A little over a year.”
“What are your duties?”
“My duties have been, to do whatever Mr. Van Wyck required of me in the way of attention to his correspondence and business affairs.”
“You live here?”
“No; I board in the village. But frequently, at Mr. Van Wyck’s request, I’ve stayed here over night, or for a few days at a time.”
“When were you last with Mr. Van Wyck?”
“Last evening, when a committee of three gentlemen visited him in his study.”
“For what purpose?”
“It was Mr. Van Wyck’s intention to make a gift of nearly a million dollars for a village library, and three prominent men of the village were a committee to accept this gift and superintend its disposal as directed.”
This evidence caused a decided sensation in the audience. The library plan had been a secret until now, and the village people were astounded at the news. The coroner went on:
“As confidential secretary you must know all about the details of this plan for the library.”
“I only know that it was Mr. Van Wyck’s positive intention to make the gift. Papers were drawn up to that effect last evening, but they were not completed and not signed.”
“And those papers have been stolen?”
“They have disappeared.”
“Meaning that Mr. Van Wyck may have disposed of them himself, before he died?”
“Meaning nothing, but that the papers are missing, and I have no way of ascertaining whether they were stolen or not.”
“And the Van Wyck pearls? They are also missing?”
“They are.”
“They were always kept in the safe?”
“Not always, but usually.”
“When not in the safe, where were they?”
“In the possession of Mrs. Van Wyck.”
“Did she prefer to keep them in her own possession?”
This question seemed to me too personal, and I noticed both Archer and Morland showed frowning faces at the coroner’s words.
But Lasseter answered decidedly: “She certainly did. The possession of the pearls was a constant source of disagreement between them.”
This roused me to extreme indignation, but as I looked at Anne, and saw the calm, even supercilious expression on her face, I concluded I was too sensitive in the matter, and probably it was necessary that these things should come out in the evidence. I knew David Van Wyck’s disposition, and it was not at all astonishing that he and Anne should have quarrelled about the pearls. I knew they were hers in the sense that he had given them to her. But I knew, too, that he claimed the ownership of all and any of her property. However, it was very ungracious of Lasseter to volunteer the information as to marital disagreements.
“When did you last see Mr. Van Wyck alive?” Mr. Mellen next inquired of the witness.
“I was present at his conference with the committee. Those gentlemen stayed until well after eleven. I then remained with Mr. Van Wyck until very nearly twelve, leaving for home, I should say, at about ten minutes before midnight”
“You left Mr. Van Wyck’s study, and went directly to your home?”
“I did,” returned Lasseter, and, though the answer was prompt, there was something about the man’s voice that made me doubt his integrity. I had no reason to question the truth of his statement, but his wandering eye, a certain nervous working of his features, and his restless clasping and unclasping of his hands made me wonder whether or not he had anything to conceal. But I also realized that the curt, almost aggressive manner of Coroner Mellen was enough to disturb the poise of the most innocent witness.
“You left Mr. Van Wyck alone in his study?”
“Not so. His son, Morland, was with him.”
“I was not!” declared Morland, starting up from his seat not far from me.
Lasseter paid no attention to this interruption, and the coroner said, “Why does Mr. Morland Van Wyck contradict you, Mr. Lasseter?”
“I don’t know,” said the secretary. “I repeat that when I left the study, I left Mr. Van Wyck and his son there, and I said good-night to both as I went out of the door.”
“Did they respond to your good-night?”
“The elder Mr. Van Wyck said, ‘ Good-night, Lasseter,’ in his offhand way, and immediately followed it with a remark to his son.”
“What was the remark?”
“He said, ‘You see, Morland, I have proved that I could carry out my intention, after all.’ ”
“And did Mr. Morland Van Wyck reply to this?”
“That I cannot say, as I was by that time outside the door and had closed it behind me.”
“And you know nothing more of this matter?”
“The
