The Leavenworth Case - free ebook by Anna Katharine Green

THE LEAVENWORTH CASE

A Lawyer’s Story By Anna Katharine Green...

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BOOK I. THE PROBLEM

I had been a junior partner in the firm of Veeley, Carr &amp; Raymond, attorneys and counsellors at law, for about a year, when one morning, in the temporary absence of both Mr. Veeley and Mr. Carr, there came into our office a young man whose whole appearance was so indicative of haste and agitation that I involuntarily rose at his approach and impetuously inquired: “What is the matter? You have no bad news to tell, I hope.” “I have come to see Mr. Veeley; is he in?” “No,” I replied; “he wa

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II. THE CORONER’S INQUEST

For a few minutes I sat dazed by the sudden flood of light greeting me from the many open windows; then, as the strongly contrasting features of the scene before me began to impress themselves upon my consciousness, I found myself experiencing something of the same sensation of double personality which years before had followed an enforced use of ether. As at that time, I appeared to be living two lives at once: in two distinct places, with two separate sets of incidents going on; so now I seeme

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III. FACTS AND DEDUCTIONS

Turning my attention back into the room where I was, I found the coroner consulting a memorandum through a very impressive pair of gold eye-glasses. “Is the butler here?” he asked. Immediately there was a stir among the group of servants in the corner, and an intelligent-looking, though somewhat pompous, Irishman stepped out from their midst and confronted the jury. “Ah,” thought I to myself, as my glance encountered his precise whiskers, steady eye, and respectfully attentive, though by no mean

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IV. A CLUE.

The cook of the establishment being now called, that portly, ruddy-faced individual stepped forward with alacrity, displaying upon her good-humored countenance such an expression of mingled eagerness and anxiety that more than one person present found it difficult to restrain a smile at her appearance. Observing this and taking it as a compliment, being a woman as well as a cook, she immediately dropped a curtsey, and opening her lips was about to speak, when the coroner, rising impatiently in h

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V. EXPERT TESTIMONY

In the midst of the universal gloom thus awakened there came a sharp ring at the bell. Instantly all eyes turned toward the parlor door, just as it slowly opened, and the officer who had been sent off so mysteriously by the coroner an hour before entered, in company with a young man, whose sleek appearance, intelligent eye, and general air of trustworthiness, seemed to proclaim him to be, what in fact he was, the confidential clerk of a responsible mercantile house. Advancing without apparent em

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VI. SIDE-LIGHTS

Third floor, rear room, first door at the head of the stairs! What was I about to encounter there? Mounting the lower flight, and shuddering by the library wall, which to my troubled fancy seemed written all over with horrible suggestions, I took my way slowly up-stairs, revolving in my mind many things, among which an admonition uttered long ago by my mother occupied a prominent place. “My son, remember that a woman with a secret may be a fascinating study, but she can never be a safe, nor even

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VII. MARY LEAVENWORTH

Have you ever observed the effect of the sunlight bursting suddenly upon the earth from behind a mass of heavily surcharged clouds? If so, you can have some idea of the sensation produced in that room by the entrance of these two beautiful ladies. Possessed of a loveliness which would have been conspicuous in all places and under all circumstances, Mary, at least, if not her less striking, though by no means less interesting cousin, could never have entered any assemblage without drawing to hers

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VIII. CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE

“O dark, dark, dark!” AND now that the interest was at its height, that the veil which shrouded this horrible tragedy seemed about to be lifted, if not entirely withdrawn, I felt a desire to fly the scene, to leave the spot, to know no more. Not that I was conscious of any particular fear of this woman betraying herself. The cold steadiness of her now fixed and impassive countenance was sufficient warranty in itself against the possibility of any such catastrophe. But if, indeed, the suspicions

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IX. A DISCOVERY

Miss Leavenworth, who appeared to have lingered from a vague terror of everything and everybody in the house not under her immediate observation, shrank from my side the moment she found herself left comparatively alone, and, retiring to a distant corner, gave herself up to grief. Turning my attention, therefore, in the direction of Mr. Gryce, I found that person busily engaged in counting his own fingers with a troubled expression upon his countenance, which may or may not have been the result

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X. MR. GRYCE RECEIVES NEW IMPETUS

This astounding discovery made a most unhappy impression upon me. It was true, then. Eleanore the beautiful, the lovesome, was—I did not, could not finish the sentence, even in the silence of my own mind. “You look surprised,” said Mr. Gryce, glancing curiously towards the key. “Now, I ain’t. A woman does not thrill, blush, equivocate, and faint for nothing; especially such a woman as Miss Leavenworth.” “A woman who could do such a deed would be the last to thrill, equivocate, and faint,” I reto

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XI. THE SUMMONS

The morning papers contained a more detailed account of the murder than those of the evening before; but, to my great relief, in none of them was Eleanore’s name mentioned in the connection I most dreaded. The final paragraph in the Times ran thus: “The detectives are upon the track of the missing girl, Hannah.” And in the Herald I read the following notice: “ A Liberal Reward will be given by the relatives of Horatio Leavenworth, Esq., deceased, for any news of the whereabouts of one Hannah Che

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XII. ELEANORE.

The door was opened by Molly. “You will find Miss Eleanore in the drawing-room, sir,” she said, ushering me in. Fearing I knew not what, I hurried to the room thus indicated, feeling as never before the sumptuousness of the magnificent hall with its antique flooring, carved woods, and bronze ornamentations:—the mockery of things for the first time forcing itself upon me. Laying my hand on the drawing-room door, I listened. All was silent. Slowly pulling it open, I lifted the heavy satin curtains

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XIII. THE PROBLEM.

When we re-entered the parlor below, the first sight that met our eyes was Mary, standing wrapped in her long cloak in the centre of the room. She had arrived during our absence, and now awaited us with lifted head and countenance fixed in its proudest expression. Looking in her face, I realized what the embarrassment of this meeting must be to these women, and would have retreated, but something in the attitude of Mary Leavenworth seemed to forbid my doing so. At the same time, determined that

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XIV. MR. GRYCE AT HOME

That the guilty person for whom Eleanore Leavenworth stood ready to sacrifice herself was one for whom she had formerly cherished affection, I could no longer doubt; love, or the strong sense of duty growing out of love, being alone sufficient to account for such determined action. Obnoxious as it was to all my prejudices, one name alone, that of the commonplace secretary, with his sudden heats and changeful manners, his odd ways and studied self-possession, would recur to my mind whenever I ask

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XV. WAYS OPENING

I attended the funeral of Mr. Leavenworth, but did not see the ladies before or after the ceremony. I, however, had a few moments’ conversation with Mr. Harwell; which, without eliciting anything new, provided me with food for abundant conjecture. For he had asked, almost at first greeting, if I had seen the Telegram of the night before; and when I responded in the affirmative, turned such a look of mingled distress and appeal upon me, I was tempted to ask how such a frightful insinuation agains

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XVI. THE WILL OF A MILLIONAIRE

The next morning’s Tribune contained a synopsis of Mr. Leavenworth’s will. Its provisions were a surprise to me; for, while the bulk of his immense estate was, according to the general understanding, bequeathed to his niece, Mary, it appeared by a codicil, attached to his will some five years before, that Eleanore was not entirely forgotten, she having been made the recipient of a legacy which, if not large, was at least sufficient to support her in comfort. After listening to the various commen

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XVII. THE BEGINNING OF GREAT SURPRISES

“ Vous regardez une etoile pour deux motifs, parce qu’elle est lumineuse et parce qu’elle est impenetrable. Vous avez aupres de vous un plus doux rayonnement et un pas grand mystere, la femme. ” Les Miserables. And now followed days in which I seemed to make little or no progress. Mr. Clavering, disturbed perhaps by my presence, forsook his usual haunts, thus depriving me of all opportunity of making his acquaintance in any natural manner, while the evenings spent at Miss Leavenworth’s were prod

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XVIII. ON THE STAIRS

Excited, tremulous, filled with wonder at this unlooked-for event, I paused for a moment to collect my scattered senses, when the sound of a low, monotonous voice breaking upon my ear from the direction of the library, I approached and found Mr. Harwell reading aloud from his late employer’s manuscript. It would be difficult for me to describe the effect which this simple discovery made upon me at this time. There, in that room of late death, withdrawn from the turmoil of the world, a hermit in

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XIX. IN MY OFFICE

The next day as, with nerves unstrung and an exhausted brain, I entered my office, I was greeted by the announcement: “A gentleman, sir, in your private room—been waiting some time, very impatient.” Weary, in no mood to hold consultation with clients new or old, I advanced with anything but an eager step towards my room, when, upon opening the door, I saw—Mr. Clavering. Too much astounded for the moment to speak, I bowed to him silently, whereupon he approached me with the air and dignity of a h

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XX. “TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN!”

Instantly a great dread seized me. What revelations might not this man be going to make! But I subdued the feeling; and, greeting him with what cordiality I could, settled myself to listen to his explanations. But Trueman Harwell had no explanations to give, or so it seemed; on the contrary, he had come to apologize for the very violent words he had used the evening before; words which, whatever their effect upon me, he now felt bound to declare had been used without sufficient basis in fact to

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XXI. A PREJUDICE

FOR one moment I sat a prey to superstitious horror; then, my natural incredulity asserting itself, I looked up and remarked: “You say that all this took place the night previous to the actual occurrence?” He bowed his head. “For a warning,” he declared. “But you did not seem to take it as such?” “No; I am subject to horrible dreams. I thought but little of it in a superstitious way till I looked next day upon Mr. Leavenworth’s dead body.” “I do not wonder you behaved strangely at the inquest.”

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XXII. PATCH-WORK

Starting with the assumption that Mr. Clavering in his conversation of the morning had been giving me, with more or less accuracy, a detailed account of his own experience and position regarding Eleanore Leavenworth, I asked myself what particular facts it would be necessary for me to establish in order to prove the truth of this assumption, and found them to be: I. That Mr. Clavering had not only been in this country at the time designated, but that he had been located for some little time at a

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XXIII. THE STORY OF A CHARMING WOMAN

“You have never heard, then, the particulars of Mr. Leavenworth’s marriage?” It was my partner who spoke. I had been asking him to explain to me Mr. Leavenworth’s well-known antipathy to the English race. “No.” “If you had, you would not need to come to me for this explanation. But it is not strange you are ignorant of the matter. I doubt if there are half a dozen persons in existence who could tell you where Horatio Leavenworth found the lovely woman who afterwards became his wife, much less gi

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XXIV. A REPORT FOLLOWED BY SMOKE

When I told Mr. Gryce I only waited for the determination of one fact, to feel justified in throwing the case unreservedly into his hands, I alluded to the proving or disproving of the supposition that Henry Clavering had been a guest at the same watering-place with Eleanore Leavenworth the summer before. When, therefore, I found myself the next morning with the Visitor Book of the Hotel Union at R—— in my hands, it was only by the strongest effort of will I could restrain my impatience. The sus

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XXV. TIMOTHY COOK

I stared at him in amazement. “I doubt if it will be so very difficult,” said he. Then, in a sudden burst, “Where is the man Cook?” “He is below with Q.” “That was a wise move; let us see the boys; have them up.” Stepping to the door I called them. “I expected, of course, you would want to question them,” said I, coming back. In another moment the spruce Q and the shock-headed Cook entered the room. “Ah,” said Mr. Gryce, directing his attention at the latter in his own whimsical, non-committal w

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XXVI. MR. GRYCE EXPLAINS HIMSELF

I do not propose to enter into a description of the mingled feelings aroused in me by this announcement. As a drowning man is said to live over in one terrible instant the events of a lifetime, so each word uttered in my hearing by Mary, from her first introduction to me in her own room, on the morning of the inquest, to our final conversation on the night of Mr. Clavering’s call, swept in one wild phantasmagoria through my brain, leaving me aghast at the signification which her whole conduct se

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XXVII. AMY BELDEN

I had a client in R—— by the name of Monell; and it was from him I had planned to learn the best way of approaching Mrs. Belden. When, therefore, I was so fortunate as to meet him, almost on my arrival, driving on the long road behind his famous trotter Alfred, I regarded the encounter as a most auspicious beginning of a very doubtful enterprise. “Well, and how goes the day?” was his exclamation as, the first greetings passed, we drove rapidly into town. “Your part in it goes pretty smoothly,” I

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XXVIII. A WEIRD EXPERIENCE

The first thing I did was to inspect with greater care the room in which I sat. It was a pleasant apartment, as I have already said; square, sunny, and well furnished. On the floor was a crimson carpet, on the walls several pictures, at the windows, cheerful curtains of white, tastefully ornamented with ferns and autumn leaves; in one corner an old melodeon, and in the centre of the room a table draped with a bright cloth, on which were various little knick-knacks which, without being rich or ex

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XXIX. THE MISSING WITNESS

“Mr. Raymond!” The voice was low and searching; it reached me in my dreams, waked me, and caused me to look up. Morning had begun to break, and by its light I saw, standing in the open door leading into the dining-room, the forlorn figure of the tramp who had been admitted into the house the night before. Angry and perplexed, I was about to bid her be gone, when, to my great surprise, she pulled out a red handkerchief from her pocket, and I recognized Q. “Read that,” said he, hastily advancing a

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XXX. BURNED PAPER

I do not think I called immediately for help. The awful shock of this discovery, coming as it did at the very moment life and hope were strongest within me; the sudden downfall which it brought of all the plans based upon this woman’s expected testimony; and, worst of all, the dread coincidence between this sudden death and the exigency in which the guilty party, whoever it was, was supposed to be at that hour were much too appalling for instant action. I could only stand and stare at the quiet

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XXXI. Q

“It was all a hoax; nobody was ill; I have been imposed upon, meanly imposed upon!” And Mrs. Belden, flushed and panting, entered the room where I was, and proceeded to take off her bonnet; but whilst doing so paused, and suddenly exclaimed: “What is the matter? How you look at me! Has anything happened?” “Something very serious has occurred,” I replied; “you have been gone but a little while, but in that time a discovery has been made—” I purposely paused here that the suspense might elicit fro

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XXXII. MRS. BELDEN’S NARRATIVE

It will be a year next July since I first saw Mary Leavenworth. I was living at that time a most monotonous existence. Loving what was beautiful, hating what was sordid, drawn by nature towards all that was romantic and uncommon, but doomed by my straitened position and the loneliness of my widowhood to spend my days in the weary round of plain sewing, I had begun to think that the shadow of a humdrum old age was settling down upon me, when one morning, in the full tide of my dissatisfaction, Ma

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XXXIII. UNEXPECTED TESTIMONY

Mrs. Belden paused, lost in the sombre shadow which these words were calculated to evoke, and a short silence fell upon the room. It was broken by my asking for some account of the occurrence she had just mentioned, it being considered a mystery how Hannah could have found entrance into her house without the knowledge of the neighbors. “Well,” said she, “it was a chilly night, and I had gone to bed early (I was sleeping then in the room off this) when, at about a quarter to one—the last train go

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XXXIV. MR. GRYCE RESUMES CONTROL

A half-hour had passed. The train upon which I had every reason to expect Mr. Gryce had arrived, and I stood in the doorway awaiting with indescribable agitation the slow and labored approach of the motley group of men and women whom I had observed leave the depot at the departure of the cars. Would he be among them? Was the telegram of a nature peremptory enough to make his presence here, sick as he was, an absolute certainty? The written confession of Hannah throbbing against my heart, a heart

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XXXV. FINE WORK

One sentence dropped by Mr. Gryce before leaving R—— prepared me for his next move. “The clue to this murder is supplied by the paper on which the confession is written. Find from whose desk or portfolio this especial sheet was taken, and you find the double murderer,” he had said. Consequently, I was not surprised when, upon visiting his house, early the next morning, I beheld him seated before a table on which lay a lady’s writing-desk and a pile of paper, till told the desk was Eleanore’s. Th

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XXXVI. GATHERED THREADS

Promptly at the hour named, I made my appearance at Mr. Gryce’s door. I found him awaiting me on the threshold. “I have met you,” said he gravely, “for the purpose of requesting you not to speak during the coming interview. I am to do the talking; you the listening. Neither are you to be surprised at anything I may do or say. I am in a facetious mood”—he did not look so—“and may take it into my head to address you by another name than your own. If I do, don’t mind it. Above all, don’t talk: reme

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XXXVII. CULMINATION

I never saw such a look of mortal triumph on the face of a man as that which crossed the countenance of the detective. “Well,” said he, “this is unexpected, but not wholly unwelcome. I am truly glad to learn that Miss Leavenworth is innocent; but I must hear some few more particulars before I shall be satisfied. Get up, Mr. Harwell, and explain yourself. If you are the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth, how comes it that things look so black against everybody but yourself?” But in the hot, feverish ey

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XXXVIII. A FULL CONFESSION

I am not a bad man; I am only an intense one. Ambition, love, jealousy, hatred, revenge—transitory emotions with some, are terrific passions with me. To be sure, they are quiet and concealed ones, coiled serpents that make no stir till aroused; but then, deadly in their spring and relentless in their action. Those who have known me best have not known this. My own mother was ignorant of it. Often and often have I heard her say: “If Trueman only had more sensibility! If Trueman were not so indiff

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XXXIX. THE OUTCOME OF A GREAT CRIME

“Oh, Eleanore!” I cried, as I made my way into her presence, “are you prepared for very good news? News that will brighten these pale cheeks and give the light back to these eyes, and make life hopeful and sweet to you once more? Tell me,” I urged, stooping over her where she sat, for she looked ready to faint. “I don’t know,” she faltered; “I fear your idea of good news and mine may differ. No news can be good but——” “What?” I asked, taking her hands in mine with a smile that ought to have reas

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