Carolyn Wells

“ Why do you ask?”
“It is a grave matter. Kindly reply.”
“No, then, she is not. It is now quarter of twelve. She is out with some friends.”
“I have bad news for you, Mr. Barham. This is the police speaking—Detective Hutchins. Your wife is here—at the friend’s house—injured, sir—fatally injured.”
Hutchins heard a slight gasp, and then a hurried, “I will get there as quickly as I can. At Mrs. Gardner’s?”
“Mrs. Gardner’s! No. At Mr. Locke’s!”
“Where?” The question rang out like a shot. “Who is Mr. Locke?”
“That’s where she is, sir. Mr. Thomas Locke, Washington Square.” ”

“ His voice almost rang out in this decision, and Hutchins reassured him quickly.
“No, Mr. Barham, that won’t matter, that way. It’s only that it’s a bit hasty to turn over the body to the relatives before a step has been taken to solve the mystery. Yet, it can be of no help to retain the body. The doctor’s reports are full and complete, and there is little or no evidence to be learned from the body itself. ”

“ I am only chauffeur of Madame’s car.”
“Who are in the family?”
“Only Mr. and Mrs. Barham, and Mrs. Selden, the mother of Madame.”
“What’s the number?”
Louis told, and then Dickson said, “You do it, Hutchins. Be as decent as you can. You’ve more natural tact than I have.”
“Is there any other telephone?” Hutchins asked, looking at the gaping crowd, in their carnival dress.
“Yes,” Post told him, “in Mr. Locke’s bedroom. I’ll show you.”
They went to the bedroom and Post stood by, while Hutchins called the Barham house.
A servant answered, and the detective asked for Mr. Barham. ”

“ If she could be taken to the Funeral Director’s—or to my home—yet, stay, Mr. Dickson, nothing—no consideration of my feelings or anything else, shall be done that will put a straw in the way of finding the murderer. ”

“ Then he superintended the removal of the body himself, he went downstairs without so much as a glance at the few curious ones who were rude enough to peer out from the studio door at him, and after the box that held the wife he had loved was put in place, he went home in Madeleine’s car, leaving Prall to go with the undertaker in Barham’s own car.
“Don’t arrange for the funeral, of course, Prall,” he said, as a final order. “Just see that everything is done right, and when you can, go home and go to bed. I’ll look after myself.” ”