Chapter IX
IN THE NIGHT
Dorothy turned over the piece of paper to find as she expected that theother side was blank. No signature. Nothing but the double warning, andthe admonition to destroy the missive and to do so at once. Evidentlythe writer either believed or knew for certain that she would shortly bedisturbed. There was no fireplace in the bedroom. Even though she torethe note into bits, some of the scraps might be found and piecedtogether should she throw them out the window; and her room might besearched at any time. How could she make way with it? For a moment ortwo Dorothy was at a loss. Mechanically her fingers tore the paper intofine shreds.
Then she smiled. "I guess we'll let the plumbing take care of you," shesaid, gazing down on the little pile of paper on her palm, and shedisappeared into the bathroom.
When she returned, Dorothy opened Janet's over-night bag, took out apair of green silk pajamas, bedroom slippers and toilet accessories,among which was a new toothbrush in a case. This, and the underwear shehad on were the only belongings of her own that she had retained.
From Janet's purse, she extracted the trunk key. After some rummaging inthat large travelling wardrobe, she found a quilted bathrobe of palepink satin on a hanger toward the back. It was too late to unpackentirely, and she was about to close and relock the trunk, when shedecided to leave it open. The Janet Jordan she was portraying had neverwaked up at the famous meeting of last week. That Janet would feeloutraged at her imprisonment, her father's seeming callousness and wouldnaturally be furious at being packed up here willy-nilly: but she wouldhave no cause to be suspicious of these people in this big stone house.If she had locked the trunk--Dorothy realized she had almost made amistake, although a minor one--and in her present position mistakes weredangerous affairs.
Although it was very late and the day had been a strenuous one Dorothydid not feel tired. While she undressed, she went over in her mind thenew vistas opened up by this mysterious note she had just destroyed. Asshe dissected it word by word from memory, she was astonished to findthat the scrap of paper carried much interesting information between thelines.
Undoubtedly, Ashton Sanborn had planted a member of his organization inthe house, but how that had been possible, she could not imagine. Firstof all, there was the warning to be on her guard. That Mrs. Lawson wasindicated she had no doubt. Her hostess, while seeming most charming andcourteous, had nevertheless suggested the hot lemonade which the notetold her not to drink. It was quite likely that her unknown adviser hadreason to think that the lemonade would be drugged. And then thesepeople could hardly mean to poison her so soon after her arrival. Fortheir whole idea in bringing her to Winncote, as she understood it, wasto make sure whether the real Janet had heard their secrets or not.No--they merely wanted her to sleep soundly. But why?
Dorothy pondered on this for several minutes. There could be only onereason, she decided. Somebody was planning to enter her bedroom tonight,and wished to do so without her knowledge. What their purpose might beshe could not guess and she did not bother about it. To a girl of anervous temperament, such as Janet Jordan, the knowledge that such avisit was planned and success arranged for by means of a drug, wouldhave been torture. But Dorothy, who could feel "Flash" in his holsterjust above her knee was merely worried for fear that lemonade or nolemonade she would fall asleep. The arrival here had been uneventfulenough after what had happened at the Jordans' apartment. At least, toall outward appearances it had been smooth sailing. She was beginning torealize that nothing with these people was what it seemed to be. She hadclimbed her Vesuvius and was standing at the crater's edge. Already thefirst rumblings of the eruption had been heard.
Her position, though seemingly secure, was nothing of the kind. Thesooner Ashton Sanborn gave her the orders he had promised, and she couldcarry them out and get away from this place, the better for DorothyDixon. And yet she could not help a feeling of exhilaration.
There came a gentle knock on her door. Wearing her quilted wrapper andslippers she turned the key and opened to--the imposing Tunbridge. Hebore a small tray on which stood a steaming tumbler, a bowl of sugar,two spoons and a napkin. "Your hot lemonade, Miss Jordan," he announcedin his pompous voice and rather as though he were offering her apriceless gift. "Mrs. Lawson's instructions are to drink it after youget in bed, Miss. May I mention also that it is very hot?"
Dorothy took the tray. "Thank you, Tunbridge, I'll be careful. Goodnight!"
"Good night, Miss."
The butler departed in the direction of the stairway, and Dorothy closedthe door and locked it again.
She set the tray on a chair beside her bed and put two spoonfuls ofsugar into the tall glass. It was too hot for anyone to drink yet, soshe went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Five minutes later she switched off all the lights except the one on thehead board. Then she got into bed, picked up the glass and stirred herlemonade, making sure that the spoon tinkled against the glass. Ifanyone was listening outside her door they would naturally think she wasdrinking the stuff.
After waiting a moment or two longer, she set the glass down on the traywith a thump that might have been heard on the gallery. But the glassremained in her hand. Off went her light now, and still holding thelemonade she got quickly and quietly out of bed. A silent trip to thebathroom in the dark and she emptied the lemonade into her washbowl.Then she came back and placed the empty glass on the tray. She hurriedover to the bow window, opened a sash, turned off the heat in theradiator and crawled into bed again.
The bed was to the left of the door as one entered the room. By lying onher right side Dorothy held the entire room within her view. After thesoft glare from the shaded electric lights, it seemed inky black, butsoon her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. In the wall just beyond thefoot of the bed was the closed door of her closet. The trunk stoodbeyond that in the corner. The alcove and window seat took up a largesection of the farther wall and in the corner, diagonally across fromwhere she lay was a dark spot--the writing desk. Opposite her bed wasthe half open door to the bathroom. The dressing table, the door to thehall but a few feet from her head--mentally she had completed her tourof the room.
Then for a long while, or so it seemed to the excited girl, she laythere waiting. Of course her door was locked, but the affair of theWinged Cartwheels a few months before had taught Dorothy that keys maybe turned from the outside with a pair of small pincers. Her mind nowset itself on the key in the door. In vain she listened for the warningclick that would come when it turned in the lock. Now that she was lyingin bed she began to discover how tired she was. It became harder andharder to stay awake.
She knew that she must have dozed, for without warning a light appeared,a golden circle on the center of the rug. Instantly she was wide awakeand her hand beneath the blankets drew her throwing knife from itssheath. Through half-closed eyelids she made out a dark figure holding aflash light pointed toward the floor.
Then the glowing circle moved to the empty glass beside her bed, andDorothy closed her eyes. For a moment it rested upon her face and sheheard a low chuckle. Dorothy knew that voice. Her visitor was LauraLawson.
The light swept away from her face. Mrs. Lawson touched the wall switchby the door and the bedroom sprang into light. The drug in the lemonademust have been a strong one, for it was evident that the intruder had nofear of her awakening. Without wasting another glance on Dorothy, LauraLawson went to the wardrobe trunk and commenced a detailed inspection ofits contents.
The woman's back was turned, so Dorothy had no difficulty in watchingher movements. Everything in the trunk was taken out, glanced at and putback exactly as it had been. This took some time, and it was fully halfan hour before her hostess finished with the trunk. Next she overhauledthe small travelling bag and the purse. Then the empty drawers of thedressing table and desk came under the woman's eye. The pillows andcushions of the window seat were lifted. The rug was turned back. Everynook and cran
ny of the room and closet came under observation. Then shewent into the bathroom.
"What under the shining canopy can she be looking for?" Dorothymarveled. "It can't be the note I got tonight. She proposed the lemonadebefore that could have been written. I wonder if she'll search the bed?She mustn't find Flash--"
When Laura Lawson returned to the bedroom, she saw that the sleeper hadturned over and was now facing the wall. For a moment she gazed down onthe girl, then her hand crept under the pillow. Finding nothing there,the covers were pulled back to the foot of the bed.
Dorothy felt the cold breeze from the open window blowing on herpajamaed body, but she did not move. Presently sheet, blankets and silkcomfort were replaced and the woman left the bedside. Dorothy chuckledinwardly. Flash was still safe. She was lying on him.
Off went the light. Dorothy knew that Mrs. Lawson's slippered feet wouldmake no sound on the thick pile of the rug. She waited to hear the dooropen and close, but heard nothing. With her face to the wall, she couldsee nothing. The strain of lying motionless became nerve wracking. Whatwas the woman doing anyhow? Slowly she rolled over again. So far as shecould tell, the room was empty.
For what seemed an age Dorothy lay, listening. Except for the windsighing through the bare trees outside her window, there was no othersound. She felt nervous and unpleasantly excited. She must know if thedoor had been left unlocked. Slipping out of bed she tiptoed across toit and tried the handle. The door did not give.
Suddenly she froze against the panels. A dim glow appeared on theopposite wall as the closet door swung slowly back, and outlined in theopening was the tall figure of Tunbridge.
Dorothy Dixon and the Double Cousin Page 9
