Five Fatal Words (2 page)

Naturally, this interview is puzzling to you. I have decided to go one or two steps further.

The fact is, that while I do not know exactly what your duties will be, I can assure you of my client's reliability, and I assure you again that others who held the same position were satisfied. I think I may add to that, that the salary to be paid for the year's work is five thousand dollars with a generous bonus at the end, if your employment has given complete satisfaction."

Melicent nodded mutely. A hundred doubts and a hundred questions rose to her mind. Her hand gripped the arm of the chair. The lawyer had paused, but when she did not speak he continued:

"Would you consider accepting a position at that figure for which you have my word that it is respectable and--?"

He stopped.

"What were you about to add?" Melicent challenged him.

"I was about to say 'safe.'"

"And you suddenly felt you should not say it?"

"Not at all," he reassured her too emphatically. "There is in the situation nothing, I feel sure, of physical peril; otherwise I should not be urging you to take the position. There will be, beyond doubt, moments of difficulty, but nothing really dangerous to you; moments which will require, as I have suggested, resourcefulness and coolness."

"Your client," demanded Melicent, "is not insane?"

"No; nothing like that. Only, a person in a rather extraordinary situation of very considerable significance. You will take the place?"

Curiosity lured Melicent; and the lawyer saw it and he seemed to like it. The dare in the thing as much as the money led the girl on; but she caught herself before she became committed to this strange adventure.

"Could I have till to-morrow to think about it?"

"Till to-morrow morning," Mr. Reese nodded. "Very well. If you decide to accept, telephone me at ten o'clock. My client lives in Connecticut. In the event of your acceptance, we will leave from my office by motor about nine o'clock the following day. You would, of course, bring your luggage." 

Melicent rose and the lawyer also stood. "You might tell me one thing I am sure," she said as she held out her hand. "It would help me to decide if I could only know whether your client is a man or a woman."

Mr. Reese considered. "My client is a woman of sixty."

"Thank you," Melicent answered, with some relief and closed behind her the door of his office.

She had the position, if she would take it. Five thousand dollars for the year, a hundred dollars a week. That meant the solution of all her money difficulties, the wiping out of the debt to Helen, a surplus to save and have on hand when this strange year would be over. And perhaps also from this peculiar employer a bonus, if her services were satisfactory. What might the services be which called for special coolness and resource?

The very elements which frightened her when she thought them over also attracted her; adventure, surely, of some unusual sort. But Mr. Reese had told her that she could check up on him and verify his reputation. No sense in leaping unnecessarily in the dark.

Melicent went into a telephone booth and called the brokerage house for which she had worked. When she was answered she asked for Mr. Wade.

"This is Melicent Waring."

"Hello, Miss Waring," Wade's voice greeted her. "I suppose you're asking about Robert Reese."

"Yes; how did you know?"

"He asked about you yesterday. I was glad to give him the best words possible. Now you want to know about him?"

"If you please."

"Well, if he wants you, you likely are in luck," Wade's rapid voice came back to her. "Old Robert Reese is one of the richest lawyers in New York. Has one of the finest reputations in the state. Can't be bought. Can't be retained on any terms by just anybody. Handles nothing but the best cases for the best families. Name's absolutely at the top of the list. Family's in the Blue Book. Word's as good as gold. Why?"

"I can't tell you why, but that's what I wanted to know."

"Righto." Mr. Wade hung up.

Melicent was on the sidewalk again, walking toward the next subway station. It was all true and it was all right--at least within the limits which Mr. Reese had described.

There was a job at five thousand dollars--with a possible bonus. The job could be hers; she would be physically safe but--but what? There was altogether too much withheld from her, too much secrecy and reassurance, and too much inducement offered in money and bonus; something about the situation was very strange. But she knew she was going to take it; and having decided at that moment, she decided to take no risk of weakening under Helen's argument; for if Helen learned of the conditions of the job, she would surely argue against it. So· she would not tell everything to Helen.

Helen was at home when Melicent returned and she had ignored the fact that it was Melicent's turn to get supper and had opened one of the perpetual cans. She looked out of the kitchenette when she heard Melicent's key in the door.

"Gee, I'm glad to see you, Melicent. All day I've been worrying about you going down to apply for that awful job."

"It won't be awful; it's just to read to and be polite to a rich old lady of sixty who wants a lot of attention. That's all."

"That can't be all--from that ad."

"Oh," said Melicent lightly. "A lawyer wrote the ad. He would. The work's in Connecticut. I start day after to-morrow." She did not explain that she had not actually accepted yet.

"Good money?" asked Helen, still suspiciously.

Melicent did not dare tell the actual amount offered. "They'll settle the actual amount later--but I'll be well paid."

"You're not telling me all about it, Melicent!"

"Maybe not; but I'll tell you this: I called up Mr. Wade about Mr. Reese and he said I was absolutely safe on taking anything Mr. Reese recommended." She repeated what Mr. Wade had said; and with that Helen had to be satisfied.

Next morning Melicent phoned Mr. Reese, "I'll take it."

"Splendid. I am very much pleased. You will never regret it. Be at this office with your luggage to-morrow at nine."

Besides Mr. Reese and a chauffeur, there was a young man waiting at the office when Melicent appeared promptly at nine. Mr. Reese introduced him to Melicent as Mr. Granger. He also had luggage and evidently had come upon an appointment similar to Melicent's. Was he the young man selected from those who had answered C. K. 122?

The preparations for departure were unemotional. The chauffeur took Melicent's luggage to the car and returned for Mr. Granger's, and Mr. Reese then added to the introduction of Mr. Granger: "He is also going to be employed at this time by my client."

Melicent and the young man regarded each other with greater interest. The capacity in which Mr. Granger was to be employed by Mr. Reese's client was not mentioned. Did Mr. Granger or even Mr. Reese know exactly what it was? Melicent wondered. They all went down to the car and the chauffeur, without requiring direction, immediately started.

The three passengers sat on the wide seat, Melicent on one side, Mr. Granger on the other, with Mr. Reese between them; and across him, Melicent and Mr. Granger conversed, now and then. Mr. Reese, for the most part, was silent-almost moody. Now and then he made some ordinary comment but his mind, obviously, was busy with what was before them.

Mr. Granger elaborately ignored Mr. Reese's preoccupation. He was a resourceful-looking young man; had not resource also been demanded of him? He had blond hair and dark brown eyes, a complexion which indicated he had spent most of his time outdoors, and there was about him an unnamable suggestion of sophistication and cosmopolitanism. He said nothing about himself, but suddenly Mr. Reese, coming out of one of his interludes of absentmindedness, said: "Mr. Granger has been an airplane pilot; twice he has jumped with a parachute."

"One time," said Mr. Granger, as though excusing himself, "I had to."

"The other time?" asked Melicent.

"No harm practicing," said Mr. Granger and returned to their previous impersonalities.

They had left New York City behind and having passed Port Chester turned on to the Boston Post Road into Connecticut.

The trees had changed and the countryside was a panorama of magnificent autumn colors. Melicent found that being out of the city, and realizing that she had employment, contributed a bracing effect which gave keener zest to the excitement of speeding to the unknown.

Three hours after they had left New York they turned from the Post Road and presently reached a small country town, of which Melicent had never heard before, called Williamsborough. It was at this point that Mr. Reese abruptly volunteered information:

"We are going to the Cornwall estate; it is more than five hundred acres. My client is Miss Hannah Cornwall."

"Yes," said Melicent, though the name meant nothing to her. Mr. Granger said nothing but Melicent had the impression that the name meant much more to him.

They reached a road that, at an enormous iron gate, ran through a tunnel of autumn clad trees and finally debouched on a vast lawn in the center· of which was a colossal house of brick, slate, and wrought iron. As they drove toward it Melicent had opportunity to appreciate its size and magnificence as well as its somberness and austerity. The car stopped under a wide porte-cochère. Mr. Reese, Mr. Granger and she walked across the porch and rang the doorbell.

The door was opened by a woman. Melicent was never sure afterwards just what remarkable feature of that woman's appearance she had noticed first. Perhaps she had noticed them all simultaneously; the extremely long and aristocratically turned nose, the stubborn and self-willed chin, the high piled, smoothly dressed white hair, the coal black, snapping eyes.

There was no possibility that this could be any subordinate. At once, Melicent knew this was Miss Cornwall and she heard Miss Cornwall's voice ring like metal suspended on a string struck by another piece of metal.

"Good morning, Mr. Reese. Thank you so much for coming. I am my own butler this morning because we are changing all the servants."

"Exactly," said Mr. Reese, taking off his hat. "I quite understand, Miss Cornwall.

May I present Miss Waring, about whom I have wired you, and also Mr. Granger?"

Melicent felt the black eyes penetrating and searching her; then they moved to Mr. Granger.

"How do you do, Miss Waring. Won't you all come in? How do you do, Mr. Granger. If you will go in the library, please, Miss Waring, I will see you in a few moments."

Melicent walked into the hall with Mr. Reese, through open doors and past parted portieres. She could see a number of people sitting in a room that evidently was a living room. She assumed that these were the new servants of whom Miss Cornwall had spoken.

She had little time to survey them, however, for Mr. Reese opened a door on the left of the hall and bowed her into a vast library.

When they had taken chairs she said: "Did Miss Cornwell say she was changing all her servants?"

"Yes; she did."

Melicent felt that, under the circumstances, she had a right to ask definite questions. "Why?"

"Because it is her custom," replied Mr. Reese frankly, "to change all her employees once a year."

"All?"

"All," answered Mr. Reese, "except her lawyers, that is. My client is, as I have told you, in an unusual situation. She does not care for faithful servants or for old retainers. Each year she makes a year-long contract with all her servants and employees and pays them well; at the end of the time they are dismissed and new ones take their places. It is merely one of her--shall we say--policies."

"I observed when I mentioned my client's name in the car," he continued, "that it did not seem to enlighten you. There is no reason that you should not know about Miss Cornwall and her family what is very generally known. The Cornwall fortune is one of the great fortunes of America--of the world. For three generations it has been gathering and increasing until it came into the hands, some fifty years ago, of Silas Cornwall--the only surviving member of the family of his generation. He, however, had six children--of whom Miss Hannah Cornwall was the fourth child.

"Silas Cornwall was an energetic and able business man and more than doubled the fortune; it was entirely in his hands when he died; and he bequeathed it in a rather extraordinary way. His entire holdings--less of course the inevitable taxes--were to be kept together; there was to be no division or diminution whatever of the principal; but all his children, as long as they lived, would share equally in the income of the estate.

"That is, as long as all six were living, each would have a sixth--and it is no secret that, in recent years, each sixth share of the income, only, has run over a million a year.

Whenever a child died, however, his or her interest in the estate ceased; the grandchildren would not inherit. The estate would continue intact and the income be divided into fewer shares until at last all would belong to the last survivor.

"The sole survivor not only would have the whole income but also would, at last, obtain title and ownership of the entire estate; he or she--whoever it might be--would then be empowered to spend not only the income but the principal, to invest it, bestow it or dissipate it, as he or she would choose.

"These facts became public, inevitably, with the probating of the will following Silas Cornwall's death some forty years ago. Naturally, they attracted a great deal of notoriety. If you were older, you would have undoubtedly remembered it; but after the sensation died down, little occurred to stir it up again. The six heirs each chose his or her own place and manner of living; and all continued to survive until, about a month ago, Daniel Cornwall died, rather suddenly, in Dutch Guiana. There was something in the papers about it but there were both a spectacular killing in New York and a shipwreck about the same time. The comment on the Cornwall affairs could easily have escaped you.

"I mention it because it will help you to understand that Miss Cornwall naturally has been affected by the death of her brother. The first break in the family circle in more than forty years was a great shock to her."