The Leavenworth Case By Anna K. Green - Chapter 1

Please join me while I read Chapter 1 from the story named "The Leavenworth Case" by Anna Katharine Green. This is a 20 minute story, accompanied by an additional 5 minutes of ambient music.

The story:
In a quiet New York mansion, the night air grows still — and a single secret changes everything. Within the grand Leavenworth home, every glance, every pause, carries meaning. A respected man is found dead, and those who loved him most are left to face the delicate unraveling of truth.

As detective Gryce listens and observes, hidden motives surface like ripples in calm water. The story moves slowly, gently, through layers of trust and deception — reminding us that every mystery begins not in chaos, but in silence.

Let this classic tale invite you to rest in the rhythm of curiosity and calm — where the search for truth becomes an act of stillness.

Transcript

Welcome to Restful Journeys.

In this track,

I will begin reading The Leavenworth Case by Anna Catherine Greene.

Please find a comfortable place to sit or lie down and relax.

Take a few moments to clear your mind and allow yourself to listen to these words.

Let's begin with chapter one,

A Great Case.

A deed of dreadful note.

Macbeth.

I had been a junior partner in the firm of Veeley,

Carr,

And Raymond,

Attorneys and counselors 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 was unexpectedly called away this morning to Washington,

Cannot be home before tomorrow,

But if you will make your business known to me.

To you,

Sir,

He repeated,

Turning a very cold but steady eye on mine,

Then,

Seeming to be satisfied with his scrutiny,

Continued,

There is no reason why I shouldn't,

My business is no secret.

I came to inform him that Mr.

Leavenworth is dead.

Mr.

Leavenworth?

I exclaimed,

Falling back a step.

Mr.

Leavenworth was an old client of our firm,

To say nothing of his being the peculiar friend of Mr.

Veeley.

Yes,

Murdered,

Shot through the head by some unknown person while sitting at his library table.

Shot?

Murdered?

I could scarcely believe my ears.

How?

When?

I gasped.

Last night,

At least,

So we suppose,

He was not found to this morning.

I am Mr.

Leavenworth's private secretary,

He explained,

And I live in the family.

It was a dreadful shock.

He went on,

Especially to the ladies.

Dreadful,

I repeated,

Mr.

Veeley would be overwhelmed by it.

They are all alone,

He continued,

In a low businesslike way.

I afterwards found to be inseparable from the man.

The Mrs.

Leavenworth,

I mean,

Mr.

Leavenworth's nieces,

And as an inquest,

Is to be held there today,

It is deemed proper for them to have someone present capable of advising them.

As Mr.

Veeley was their uncle's best friend,

They naturally sent me for him,

But he being absent,

I am at a loss what to do,

Or where to go.

I am a stranger to the ladies,

Was my hesitating reply,

But if I can be any assistance to them,

My respect for their uncle is such.

The expression of the secretary's eyes stopped me,

Without seeming to wonder from my face,

His pupil had suddenly dilated till it appeared to embrace my whole person with its scope.

I don't know,

He finally remarked,

A slight frown,

Testifying to the fact that he was not altogether pleased with the turn affairs were taking.

Perhaps it would be best,

The ladies must not be alone.

Say no more,

I will go,

And,

Sitting down,

I dispatched a hurried message to Mr.

Veeley,

After which,

And the few other preparations necessary,

I accompanied the secretary to the street.

Now,

Said I,

Tell me all you know of this frightful affair.

All I know,

A few words will do that.

I left him last night,

Sitting as usual at his library table,

And found him this morning,

Seated in the same place,

Almost in the same position,

But with a bullet hole in his head,

As large as the end of my little finger.

Dead?

Stone dead.

Horrible!

I exclaimed.

Then,

After a moment,

Could it have been suicide?

No,

The pistol with which the deed was committed is not to be found.

But,

If it was a murder,

There must have been some motive.

Mr.

Leavenworth was too benevolent of a man to have enemies,

And if a robbery was intended— There was no robbery.

There is nothing missing.

Again he interrupted.

The whole affair is a mystery.

A mystery?

An utter mystery.

Turning,

I looked at my informant curiously.

The inmate of a house in which a mysterious murder had occurred was rather an interesting object,

But the good-featured and yet totally unimpressive countenance of the man beside me offered but little basis for even the wildest imagination to work upon.

And,

Glancing almost immediately away,

I asked,

Are the ladies very much overcome?

He took at least a half-dozen steps before replying.

It would be unnatural if they were not.

And whether it was the expression of his face at the time or the nature of the reply itself,

I felt that in speaking of these ladies to this uninteresting,

Self-possessed secretary of the late Mr.

Leavenworth,

I was somehow treading upon dangerous ground.

As I had heard,

They were very accomplished women.

I was not altogether pleased at this discovery.

It was,

Therefore,

With a certain consciousness of relief that I saw a Fifth Avenue stage approach.

We will defer our conversation,

Said I.

Here's the stage.

But,

Once seated within it,

We soon discovered that all intercourse upon such a subject was impossible.

Employing the time,

Therefore,

In running over in my mind what I knew of Mr.

Leavenworth,

I found that my knowledge was limited to the bare fact of his being a retired merchant of great wealth and fine social position who,

In default of possessing children of his own,

Had taken into his home two nieces,

One of whom had already been declared his heiress.

To be sure,

I had heard Mr.

Vealy speak of his eccentricities,

Giving as an instance to this very fact,

Of his making a will in favor of one niece to the utter exclusion of the other,

But of his habits of life and connection with the world at large,

I knew little to nothing.

There was a great crowd in front of the house when we arrived there,

And I had barely time to observe that it was a corner dwelling of unusual depth when I was seized by the throng and carried quite into the foot of the prod stone steps.

Extricating myself,

Though,

Was some difficulty,

Owing to the importunities of a bootleg and butcher boy who seemed to think that by clinging to my arm they might succeed in smuggling themselves into the house.

I mounted the steps and,

Finding the secretary,

By some unaccountable good fortune,

Close to my side,

Hurriedly rang the bell.

Immediately the door opened and a face I recognized as that of one of our city detectives appeared in the gap.

''Mr.

Grice,

'' I exclaimed.

''The same,

'' he replied.

''Come in,

Mr.

Raymond.

'' And drawing us quietly into the house,

He shut the door with a grim smile on the disappointed crowd.

''I trust you are not surprised to see me here?

'' said he,

Holding out his hand,

With a side glance at my companion.

''No,

'' I returned.

Then,

With a vague idea that I ought to introduce the young man at my side,

Continued,

''This is Mr.

.

.

.

Mr.

.

.

.

Excuse me,

But I don't know your name,

'' I said inquiringly to my companion.

''The private secretary of the late Mr.

Leavenworth,

'' I hastened to add.

''Oh,

'' he returned.

''The secretary,

The coroner's been asking for you,

Sir.

'' ''The coroner is here then?

'' ''Yes,

The jury have just gone upstairs to view the body.

Would you like to follow them?

'' ''No,

It is not necessary.

I have merely come in the hope of being some assistance to the young ladies.

Mr.

Veeley is away.

'' ''And you thought the opportunity too good to be lost?

'' he went on.

''Just so.

Still,

Now that you are here,

And as the case promises to be a marked one,

I should think that,

As a rising young lawyer,

You would wish to make yourself acquainted with it in all its details,

But follow your own judgment.

'' I made an effort and overcame my repugnance.

''I will go,

'' said I.

''Very well then.

Follow me.

'' But just as I set foot on the stairs,

I heard the jury descending.

So,

Drawing back with Mr.

Grice into a recess between the reception room and the parlor,

I had time to remark.

''The young man says it could not have been the work of a burglar.

'' ''Indeed.

'' Fixing his eye on a doorknob nearby.

''That nothing has been found missing,

And that the fastenings to the house were all found secure this morning.

Just so.

'' ''He did not tell me that.

In that case.

.

.

'' And I shuddered.

''The murderer must have been in the house all night.

'' Mr.

Grice smiled darkly at the doorknob.

''It has a dreadful look!

'' I exclaimed.

Mr.

Grice immediately frowned the doorknob.

''And here,

Let me say that Mr.

Grice,

The detective,

Was not the thin,

Wiry individual with the piercing eye you were doubtless expecting to see.

On the contrary,

Mr.

Grice was a portly,

Comfortable personage,

With an eye that never pierced,

That did not even rest on you.

If it rested anywhere,

It was always on some insignificant object in the vicinity.

Some vase,

Inkstand,

Book,

Or button.

These things he would seem to take into his confidence,

Make the repositories of his conclusion.

But as for you,

You might as well be the steeple on Trinity Church,

For all connection you ever appeared to have with him or his thoughts.

At present,

Then,

Mr.

Grice was,

As I have already suggested,

On intimate terms with the doorknob.

''A dreadful look,

'' I repeated.

His eyes shifted to the button of my sleeve.

''Come,

'' he said.

''The coast is clear at last.

'' Leading the way,

He mounted the stairs,

But stopped on the upper landing.

''Mr.

Raymond,

'' he said.

''I am not in the habit of talking about the secrets of my profession,

But in this case,

Everything depends on getting the right clue at the start.

We have no common villainy to deal with here.

Genius has been at work.

Now,

Sometimes,

An absolutely uninitiated mind will intuitively catch at something which the most highly trained intellect will miss.

If such a thing should occur,

Remember that I am your man.

Don't go around talking,

But come to me,

For this is going to be a great case.

Mind you,

A great case.

Now,

Come on.

But the ladies,

They are in the rooms above,

In grief,

Of course,

But tolerably composed for all that,

I hear.

And advancing to the door,

He pushed it open and beckoned me in.

All was dark for a moment,

But presently,

My eyes becoming accustomed to the place,

I saw that we were in the library.

It was here he was found,

He said,

In this room and upon this very spot.

And advancing,

He laid his hand on the end of a large vase-covered tablet that,

Together with its attended chairs,

Occupied the center of the room.

You see for yourself that it is directly opposite of this door.

And crossing the floor,

He paused in front of the threshold of a narrow passageway,

Opening into a room beyond.

As the murdered man was discovered sitting in this chair,

And consequently with his back towards the passageway,

The assassin must have advanced through the doorway to deliver his shot,

Pausing,

Let's say,

About here.

And Mr.

Grice planted his feet firmly upon a certain spot in the carpet,

About a foot from the threshold before he mentioned.

But,

I hastened to interpose,

There is no room for but,

He cried,

We have studied the situation.

And without deigning to dilate upon the subject,

He turned immediately about,

And,

Stepping swiftly before me,

Led the way into the passage name.

Wine closet?

Clothes closet?

Washing apparatus?

Towel rack?

He explained,

Waving his hand from side to side as we hurried through,

Finishing with,

Mr.

Leavenworth's private apartment.

As that room of comfortable aspect opened upon us,

Mr.

Leavenworth's private apartment,

It was here then that it ought to be,

The horrible,

Blood-curdling it that yesterday was a living,

Breathing man.

Advancing to the bed that was hung with heavy curtains,

I raised my hand to put them back when Mr.

Grice,

Drawing them from my clasp,

Disclosed lying upon a pillow,

A cold,

Calm face,

Looking so natural,

I involuntarily started.

His death was too soon to distort his features,

He remarked,

Turning the head to one side,

In a way to make visible a ghastly wound in the back of the cranium.

Such a hole that sends a man out of this world without much notice,

The surgeon will convince you,

It could never have been inflicted by himself,

It is a case of deliberate murder.

Horrified,

I drew hastily back,

When my glance fell upon a door,

Situated directly opposite me,

In the side of the wall,

Towards the hall.

It appeared to be the only outlet from the room,

With the exception of the passage through which we had just entered,

And I could not help wondering if it was through this door the assassin had entered on his roundabout course to the library.

But Mr.

Grice,

Seemingly observant of my glance,

Through his own,

Was fixed upon the chandelier,

Made haste to remark,

As if in reply to the inquiry on my face.

Found locked on the inside,

May have come that way,

And may not,

We don't pretend to say.

Observing now that the bed was undisturbed in its arrangement,

I remarked,

Had he not retired then?

No,

The tragedy must have been ten hours old,

Time for the murderer to have studied the situation and provided for all contingencies.

The murderer,

Whom do you suspect?

I whispered.

He looked impassively at the ring on my finger.

Everyone and nobody,

It is not for me to suspect,

But to detect,

And dropping the curtain unto its former position,

He led me from the room.

The coroner's inquest being now in session,

I felt a strong desire to be present.

So,

Requesting Mr.

Grice to inform the ladies that Mr.

Vili was absent from town,

And that I had come as a substitute to render them any assistance they might require on so melancholy an occasion,

I proceeded to the large parlor below and took my seat among the various persons there assembled.

That concludes chapter one,

A Great Case,

From the story,

The Leavenworth Case,

By Anna Catherine Greene.

I hope you have enjoyed this story.

Become relaxed and possibly fallen asleep.

Thank you for watching.