I interfered then, and let her come in. She was a woman of medium height, quietly dressed, and fairly handsome. My first impression was favorable; she moved with a certain dignity, and she was not laced, crimped or made up. I am more sophisticated now; The Lady Who Tells Me Things says that the respectable women nowadays, out-rouge, out-crimp and out-lace the unrespectable.
However, the illusion was gone the moment she began to speak. Her voice was heavy, throaty, expressionless. She threw it like a weapon: I am perfectly honest in saying that for a moment the surprise of her voice outweighed the remarkable thing she was saying.
"I am Mrs. Allan Fleming," she said, with a certain husky defiance.
"I beg your pardon," I said, after a minute. "You mean--the Allan Fleming who has just died?"
She nodded. I could see she was unable, just then, to speak. She had nerved herself to the interview, but it was evident that there was a real grief. She fumbled for a black-bordered handkerchief, and her throat worked convulsively. I saw now that she was in mourning.
"Do you mean," I asked incredulously, "that Mr. Fleming married a second time?"
"He married me three years ago, in Plattsburg. I came from there last night. I--couldn't leave before."
"Does Miss Fleming know about this second marriage?"
"No. Nobody knew about it. I have had to put up with a great deal, Mr. Knox. It's a hard thing for a woman to know that people are talking about her, and all the time she's married as tight as ring and book can do it."
"I suppose," I hazarded, "if that is the case, you have come about the estate."
"Estate!" Her tone was scornful. "I guess I'll take what's coming to me, as far as that goes--and it won't be much. No, I came to ask what they mean by saying Allan Fleming killed himself."
"I know he did not," she said tensely. "Not only that: I know who did it. It was Schwartz--Henry Schwartz."
"You don't know Schwartz," she said grimly. "I was married to him for fifteen years. I took him when he had a saloon in the Fifth Ward, at Plattsburg. The next year he was alderman: I didn't expect in those days to see him riding around in an automobile--not but what he was making money--Henry Schwartz is a money-maker. That's why he's boss of the state now."