The Mardi Gras Mystery

by H. Bedford-Jones

  CHAPTER X

  _Murder_

  The voice was strange to Gramont, yet he had a vague recollection ofhaving at some time heard it before. It was a jaunty and impudent voice,very self-assured--yet it bore a startled and uneasy note, as though thespeaker had just come unaware upon the man whom he addressed.

  "Howdy, sheriff!" it said. "Didn't see you in there--what you doin' sofar away from Houma, eh?"

  "Why, I've been looking over the place around here," responded anothervoice, which was dry and grim. "I know you, Ben Chacherre, and I thinkI'll take you along with me. Just come from New Orleans, did you?"

  "Me? Take _me_?" The voice of Chacherre shrilled up suddenly in alarm."Look here, sheriff, it wasn't me done it! It was Gramont----"

  There came silence. Not a sound broke the stillness of the lateafternoon.

  Gramont, listening, lay bewildered and breathless. Ben Chacherre, thesneak thief--how had Chacherre come here? Gramont knew nothing of anytie between Jachin Fell and Chacherre; he could only lie in the grassand wonder at the man's presence. What "place" was it that the sheriffof Houma had been looking over? And what was it that he, Gramont, wassupposed to have done?

  Confused and wondering, Gramont waited. And, as he waited, he caught asoft sound from the marshy ground beside him--a faint "plop" as thoughsome object had fallen close by on the wet grass. At the moment he paidno heed to this sound, for again the uncanny silence had fallen.

  Listening, Gramont fancied that he caught slow, stealthy footsteps amidthe undergrowth, but derided the fancy as sheer imagination. His brainwas busy with this new problem. Houma, he knew, was the seat of theparish or county. This Ben Chacherre appeared to have suddenly andunexpectedly encountered the sheriff, to his obvious alarm, and thesheriff had for some reason decided to arrest him; so much was clear.

  Chacherre had something to do with the "place"--did that mean theadjacent property, or the Ledanois farm? In his puzzled bewildermentover this imbroglio Gramont for the moment quite forgot the trickle ofoil at his feet.

  But now the deep silence became unnatural and sinister. What hadhappened? Surely, Ben Chacherre had not been arrested and taken away insuch silence! Why had the voices so abruptly ceased? Vaguely uneasy,startled by the prolongation of that intense stillness, Gramont rose tohis feet and peered among the trees.

  The two speakers seemed to have departed; he could descry nobody insight. A step to one side gave Gramont a view of the land adjoining theLedanois place. This was cleared of all brush, and under some immenseoaks to the far left he had a glimpse of a large summer cottage, boardedup and apparently deserted. Nearer at hand, however, he saw otherbuildings, and these drew his attention. He heard the throbbing pound ofa motor at work, and as there was no power line along here, the placeevidently had its own electrical plant. He scrutinized the scene beforehim appraisingly.

  There were two large buildings here. One seemed to be a large barn,closed, the other was a long, low shed which was too large to be agarage. The door of this was open, and before the opening Gramont sawthree men standing in talk; he recognized none of them. Two of thetalkers were clad in greasy overalls, and the third figure showed theflash of a collar. The sheriff, Ben Chacherre, and some other man,thought Gramont. He would not have known Chacherre had he encounteredhim face to face. To him, the man was a name only.

  The mention of his own name by Chacherre impelled him to go forward anddemand some explanation. Then it occurred to him that perhaps he hadmade a mistake; it would have been very easy, for he was not certainthat Chacherre had referred to him. There could be other Gramonts, orother men whose name would have much the same sound in a Creole mouth.

  "I'd better attend to my own business," thought Gramont, and turnedaway. He noticed that the motor had ceased its work. "Wonder what richchap can be down here at his summer cottage this time of year? May beonly a caretaker, though. I'd better give all my attention to this oil,and let other things alone."

  He retraced his steps to the bayou bank and turned back toward thehouse. As he did so, Hammond appeared coming toward him, knife in hand.

  "I'm going to cut me a pole and land a couple o' fish for supper,"announced the chauffeur, grinning. "Got things cleaned up fine, cap'n!You won't know the old shack."

  "Good enough," said Gramont. "Here, step over this way! I want to showyou something."

  He led Hammond to the rivulet and pointed out the thin film of oil onthe surface.

  "There's our golden fortune, sergeant! Oil actually coming out of theground! It doesn't happen very often, but it does happen--and this isone of the times. I'll not bother to look around any farther."

  "Glory be!" said Hammond, staring at the rivulet. "Want to hit back fortown?"

  "No; we couldn't get back until sometime to-night, and the roads aren'tvery good for night work. I'm going to get some leases aroundhere--perhaps I can do it right away, and we'll start back in themorning. Go ahead and get your fish."

  Regaining the house, he saw that Hammond had indeed cleaned up in greatstyle, and had the main room looking clean as a pin, with a fire poppingon the hearth. He did not pause here, but went to the car, got in, andstarted it. He drove back to the road, and followed this toward town fora few rods, turning in at a large and very decent-looking farmhouse thathe had observed while passing it on the way out.

  He found the owner, an intelligent-appearing Creole, driving in somecows for milking, and was a little startled to realize that theafternoon was so late. When he addressed the farmer in French, hereceived a cordial reply, and discovered that this man owned the landacross the road from the Ledanois place--that his farm, in fact, coveredseveral hundred acres.

  "Who owns the land next to the Ledanois place?" inquired Gramont.

  "I sold that off my land a couple of years ago," replied the other. "Aman from New Orleans wanted it for a summer place--a business man there,Isidore Gumberts."

  Gumberts--"Memphis Izzy" Gumberts! The name flashed to Gramont's mind,and brought the recollection of a conversation with Hammond. Why,Gumberts was the famous crook of whom Hammond had spoken.

  "I saw the sheriff awhile ago, heading up the road," observed theCreole. "Did you meet him?"

  Gramont shook his head. "No, but I saw several men at the Gumbertsplace. Perhaps he was there----"

  "Not there, I guess," and the farmer laughed. "Those fellows have rentedthe place from Gumberts, I hear; they're inventors, and quiet enoughmen. You're a stranger here?"

  Gramont introduced himself as a friend of Miss Ledanois, and statedfrankly that he was looking for oil and hoped to drill on her land.

  "I'd like a lease option from you," he went on. "I don't want to buyyour land at all; what I want is a right to drill for oil on it, in caseany shows up on Miss Ledanois' land. It's all a gamble, you know. I'llgive you a hundred dollars for the lease, and the usual eighth interestin any oil that's found. I've no lease blanks with me, but if you'llgive me the option, a signed memorandum will be entirely sufficient."

  The farmer regarded oil as a joke, and said so. The hundred dollars,however, and the prospective eighth interest, were sufficient to inducehim to part with the option without any delay. He was only too glad toget the thing done with at once, and to pocket Gramont's money.

  Gramont drove away, and was just coming to the Ledanois drive when hesuddenly threw on the brakes and halted the car, listening. Fromsomewhere ahead of him--the Gumberts place, he thought instantly--echoeda shot, and several faint shouts. Then silence again.

  Gramont paused, indecisive. The sheriff was making an arrest, hethought. A hundred possibilities flitted through his brain, suggested bythe sinister combination of Memphis Izzy, known even to Hammond as aprince among crooks, with this secluded place leased by "inventors."Bootlegging? Counterfeiting?

  As he paused, thus, he suddenly started; he was certain that he hadcaught the tones of Hammond, as though in a sudden uplifted oath ofanger. Gramont threw in his clutch an
d sent the car jumping forward--heremembered that he had left Hammond beside the rivulet, close to theGumberts property. What had happened?

  He came, after a moment of impatience, to an open gate whose drive ledto the Gumberts place. Before him, as he turned in, unfolded a startlingscene. Three men, the same three whom he had seen from the bushes, werestanding in front of the low shed; two of them held rifles, the third,one of the "inventors" in overalls, was winding a bandage about ableeding hand. The two rifles were loosely levelled at Hammond, whostood in the centre of the group with his arms in the air.

  Whatever had happened, Hammond had evidently not been easily captured.His countenance was somewhat battered, and the one captor who wore acollar was bleeding copiously from a cut cheek. The three turned asGramont's car drove up, and Hammond gave an ejaculation of relief.

  "Here he is now----"

  "Shut up!" snapped one of his armed captors in an ugly tone. "Hurry up,Chacherre--get a rope and tie this gink!"

  Gramont leaped from the car and strode forward.

  "What's been going on here?" he demanded, sharply. "Hammond----"

  "I found a dead man over in them bushes," shot out Hammond, "and theseguys jumped me before I seen 'em. They claim I done it----"

  "A dead man!" repeated Gramont, and looked at the three. "What do youmean?"

  "Give him the spiel, Chacherre," growled one of them. Ben Chacherrestepped forward, his bold eyes fastened on those of Gramont with a lookof defiance.

  "The sheriff was here some time ago, looking for a stolen boat," hesaid, "and went off toward the Ledanois place. We were following, inorder to help him search, when we came upon this man standing in thebushes, over the body of the sheriff. A knife was in his hand, and thesheriff had been stabbed to death. He drew a pistol and shot one ofus----"

  Gramont was staggered for a moment. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "Hammond, howmuch of this is true?"

  "What I'm tellin' you, cap'n," answered Hammond, doggedly. "I found aman layin' there and was looking at him when these guys jumped me. Ishot that fellow in the arm, all right, then they grabbed my gun and gotme down. That's all."

  The sheriff--murdered!

  Into the mind of Gramont leaped that brief conversation which he hadoverheard between Ben Chacherre and the sheriff; the strange, unnaturalsilence which had concluded that broken-off conversation. He stared fromHammond to the others, speechless for the moment, yet with hot wordsrising impetuously in him.

  Now he noticed that Chacherre and his two companions were watching himvery intently, and were slightly circling out. He sensed an acquaintanceamong all these men. He saw that the wounded man had finished hisbandaging, and was now holding his unwounded hand in his jacket pocket,bulkily, menacingly.

  Danger flashed upon Gramont--flashed upon him vividly and with startlingclearness. He realized that anything was possible in this isolatedspot--this spot where murder had so lately been consummated! He checkedon his very lips what he had been about to blurt forth; at this instant,Hammond voiced the thought in his mind.

  "It's a frame-up!" said the chauffeur, angrily.

  "That's likely, isn't it?" Chacherre flung the words in a sneer, butwith a covert glance at Gramont. "This fellow is your chauffeur, ain'the? Well, we got to take him in to Houma, that's all."

  "Where's the sheriff's body?" demanded Gramont, quietly.

  "Over there," Chacherre gestured. "We ain't had a chance to bring himback yet--this fellow kept us busy. Maybe you want to frame up an alibifor him?"

  Gramont paid no attention to the sneering tone of this last. He regardedChacherre fixedly, thinking hard, keeping himself well in hand.

  "You say the sheriff was here, then went over toward the Ledanois land?"he asked. "Did he go alone, or were you with him?"

  "We were fixin' to follow him," asserted Chacherre, confidently. Thiswas all Gramont wanted to know--that the man was lying. "We weretrailin' along after him when he stepped into the bushes. This man ofyours was standing over him with a knife----"

  "I was, too, when they found me--I was cuttin' me a fishpole," saidHammond, sulkily. He was plainly beginning to be impressed and alarmedby the evidence against him. Gramont only nodded.

  "No one saw the actual murder, then?"

  "No need for it," said Chacherre, brazenly. "When we found him that way!Eh?"

  "I suppose not," answered Gramont, his eyes fastened thoughtfully onHammond. The latter caught the look, let his jaw fall in astonishment,then flushed and compressed his lips--and waited. Gramont glanced atChacherre, and launched a chance shaft.

  "You're Ben Chacherre, aren't you? Do you work for Mr. Fell?"

  The chance shot scored. "Yes," said Chacherre, his eyes narrowing.

  "What are you doing here, then?"

  For an instant Chacherre was off guard. He did not know how much--orlittle--Gramont knew; but he did know that Gramont was aware who hadtaken the loot of the Midnight Masquer from the luggage compartment ofthe car. This knowledge, very naturally, threw him back on the defenceof which he was most sure.

  "I came on an errand for my master," he said, and with those words gavethe game into Gramont's hands.

  There was a moment of silence. Gramont stood apparently in musingthought, conscious that every eye was fastened upon him, and that onefalse move would now spell disaster. He gave no sign of the tremendousshock that Chacherre's words had just given him; when he spoke, it wasquietly and coolly:

  "Then your master is evidently associated with Memphis Izzy Gumberts,who owns this place here. Is that right?"

  Both Hammond and Chacherre's two friends started at this.

  "I don't know anything about that," returned Chacherre, with a shrugwhich did not entirely conceal his uneasiness. "I know that we've got amurderer here, and that we'll have to dispose of him. Do you object?"

  "Of course not," said Gramont, calmly. "Step aside and give me a momentin private with Hammond. Then by all means take him in to Houma. I'dsuggest that you tie him up, or make use of handcuffs if the sheriffbrought any along. Then you'd better take in the body of the sheriffalso. Hammond, a word with you!"

  This totally unexpected acquiescence on the part of Gramont seemed tostun Chacherre into inaction. He half moved, as though uncertain whetherto bar Gramont from the prisoner, then he stepped aside as Gramontadvanced. A gesture to his two companions prevented them frominterfering.

  "Keep 'em covered, though," he said, shifting his own rifle slightly andwatching with a scowl of suspicion.

  Gramont ignored him and went up to Hammond, with a look of warning.

  "You'll have to submit to this, old man," he said, in a tone that theothers could not overhear. "Don't dream that I'm deserting you; but Iwant a good look at this place if all three of them go away. They mustnot suspect----"

  "Cap'n, look out!" broke in Hammond, urgently. "This here is a gang--thewhole thing is a frame-up on me!"

  "I know it--I was present when the sheriff was murdered; but keep quiet.I'll come to Houma later to-night and see you." He turned away with ashrug as though Hammond had denied him some favour, and lifted hisvoice. "Chacherre! How are you to take this man into town? How did youget here? Will you need to use my car?"

  "No." The Creole jerked his head toward the barn. "I came in Mr. Fell'scar--it's got a sprung axle and is laid up. We'll take him back inanother one."

  "Very well," Gramont paused and glanced around. "This is a terribleblow, men. I never dreamed that Hammond was a murderer or could be one!You don't know of any motive for the crime?"

  They shook their heads, but suspicion was dying from their eyes. Gramontglanced again at his chauffeur.

  "I'll not abandon you, Hammond," he said, severely, coldly. "I'll stopin at Houma and see that you have a lawyer. I think, gentlemen, we hadbetter attend to bringing in the body of the sheriff, eh?"

  The wounded man dodged into the barn and returned with a strip of rope.Chacherre took this, and firmly bound Hammond's arms, then forced him tosit down and bound his ankles.

>   "You watch him," he ordered the wounded member of the trio. "We'll getthe sheriff."

  Allowing Chacherre and his companion to take the lead, Gramont went withthem to the place where the murdered officer lay. As he went, theconviction grew more sure within him that, when he lay there by therivulet, he had actually heard the last words uttered by the sheriff;that Chacherre had committed the murder in that moment--a noiseless,deadly stab! That Hammond could or would have done it he knew wasabsurd.

  They found the murdered man lying among the bushes. He had been stabbedunder the fifth rib--the knife had gone direct to the heart. Chacherreannounced that he had Hammond's knife as evidence and Gramont merelynodded his head.

  Lifting the body between them, they bore it back to the barn.

  "Now," said Gramont, quickly, "I'm off for Houma--if I don't miss myroad! You men will be right along?"

  "In a jiffy," said Chacherre, promptly.

  Gramont climbed into his car and drove away. He had no fear of anythinghappening to Hammond; the evidence against the latter was damning, andwith three men to swear him into a hangman's noose, they would bring himto jail safe enough.

  "A clever devil, that Chacherre!" he thought, grimly. "We're up againsta gang, beyond any doubt. Now, if they don't suspect me----"

  He turned in at the Ledanois gate, knowing himself to be beyond sight orhearing of the Gumberts place. He drove the car away from the house, andinto the thick of the densest bush-growth that he could find where itwas well concealed from sight. Then, on foot, he made his way along thebank of the bayou until he had come to the rivulet where oil showed.

  Here he paused, concealing himself and gaining a place where he couldget a view of the Gumberts land. He saw Chacherre and Hammond there,beside the body of the sheriff; the other two men were swinging open thebarn door. They disappeared inside, and a moment later Gramont heard thewhirr of an engine starting. A car backed out into the yard--aseven-passenger Cadillac--and halted.

  The three men lifted the body of the sheriff, into the tonneau.Chacherre took the wheel, Hammond being bundled in beside him. The othertwo men climbed in beside the body, rifles in hand. Chacherre startedthe car toward the road.

  "All fine!" thought Gramont with a thrill of exultation. "They've allcleared out and left the place to me--and I want a look at that place."

  Suddenly, as he stood there, he remembered the slight "plump" that hehad heard during that interminable silence which had followed theconversation between the sheriff and Ben Chacherre. It was a sound asthough something had fallen near him in the soggy ground.

  The remembrance startled him strangely. He visualized an excitedmurderer standing beside his victim, knife in hand; he visualized theabhorrence which must have seized the man for a moment--the abhorrencewhich must have caused him to do something in that moment which in acooler time he would not have done.

  Gramont turned toward the little marshy spot where he had lainlistening. He bent down, searching the wet ground, heedless that thewater soaked into his boots. And, after a minute, a low exclamation ofsatisfaction broke from him as he found what he sought.