Philo Vance 12 Novels Complete Bundle

by S. S. Van Dine

  At dinner there was excited talk about the party. Especially were there mysterious hints of a surprise performer whom Mr. Rexon had invited for the occasion. No one seemed to have any specific information, however.

  Dinner over, the older guests assembled on the veranda, grouping themselves on either side of Miss Joan's chaise longue at the center window. The night was clear and not too cold.

  Shortly before nine Marcia Bruce brought Miss Joan out to her place.

  "Please pull up a chair for Ella beside me," the girl requested. "She should be here any minute now."

  Miss Bruce complied.

  Doctor Quayne came up. After a word of encouragement to Miss Joan and a greeting to Richard, he seated himself beside Carrington Rexon behind the young people. Jacques Bassett stood against the closed doors at the rear. Lieutenant O'Leary unobtrusively found a place for himself.

  A high, old-fashioned phonograph was wheeled out to the rink by Higgins and another servant. A box of records was carried down.

  Vance, on skates, in immaculate evening attire, with a white muffler at his throat, appeared on the rink. Additional lights were turned on as he came forward.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," he began in mock ceremonious style. His voice was clear and resonant. "I have been honored with the privilege of conducting this memorable event. I confidently promise you an evening of most unusual regalement."

  General applause greeted his statement.

  "We have with us tonight," he proceeded with exaggerated formality, "performers of wide renown. I might even say, of world-wide renown. Most of you, I am sure, will recognize each name as it is announced..."

  Another round of applause drowned out his next words.

  "The first of our guest stars," he resumed, "is Miss Sally Alexander. She will entertain you in her own incomparable manner."

  Miss Alexander came up from the pavilion, a smiling urchin in colorful tatters, skating gracefully into the spotlight thrown from an upper window of the Manor. She sang a gay Parisian chansonette of dubious significance, and was rewarded with much laughter and cheering. Her next number was a monologue depicting an intoxicated celebrity attempting to thread his way through a bevy of admiring debutantes. Skates made the task none too easy. The small audience was genuinely amused, their approval long and loud.

  Vance assisted the young woman back to the pavilion and returned with Dahlia Dunham and Chuck Throme, both in trunks and jerseys. They skated into the spotlight and made a deep bow. Vance raised the young woman's hand.

  "On my right, wearing red trunks," he announced, "is Miss Dahlia Dunham--a most charmin' battler, with many a vict'ry to her credit. On my left, in white trunks, is Jocky Throme, with a list of wins quite as impressive. The two will now go through three rounds for the skate-weight championship."

  The gloves were put on, the seconds waved away; the referee came forward, and the bout started. The two contenders sparred lightly for a few seconds. They went into a clinch and were separated by the referee. The slippery ice under their skates sent many of the punches far afield. Those that connected did little damage. When Vance blew his whistle at the end of the third round Miss Dunham was declared the winner by popular acclaim. Chuck Throme, taking his defeat gallantly, essayed another bow. As on an earlier occasion, he carried the obeisance too far. His skates slid out from under him. He lay prone on the ice. Vance and Miss Dunham assisted him to his feet and helped him from the rink.

  Joan Rexon sat up and looked about. "I wish Ella would come," I heard her say. "She's missing all the fun. Have you seen her, Dick?"

  Richard Rexon shook his head glumly. "Maybe she's outside somewhere." He went to investigate.

  Next Miss Maddox and Pat McOrsay presented a skit with a homemade miniature plane on runners. This was followed by Vance's announcement of Miss Naesmith's number with Stanley Sydes. In Spanish costume they creditably performed a series of dances to the accompaniment of the records Vance placed on the phonograph. The other performers joined them for the final tango. Richard Rexon had returned to the disconsolate Joan.

  "And now," came Vance's voice again, "We have a surprise for you. I can't give you the name of this performer because she is practically unknown. We call her the Masked Marvel...But one moment! I must whisper in our maestro's ear what melody he is to play." He pantomimed comically to the phonograph as he put on a new record. The lovely strains of Geschichten aus dem Wiener Wald came floating over the still night. And then...

  A petite figure came tripping out on the ice with unbelievable ease and rhythm. Her costume of velvet and sequins shimmered gaily in the lights. A silk mask covered most of her face. Her spaced routine was exquisitely performed. With incredible grace she combined the most difficult school figures with spirals, spins, and jumps of daring originality.

  Everyone gasped with delight. There was a remark that it must be Linda Höffler, the newest skating sensation. Some of the guests questioned Miss Joan and young Rexon. They disclaimed all knowledge. Carrington Rexon, when asked what famous importation he had bagged for the event, would give no information.

  Each time the girl left the rink the applause was so loud and continuous that Vance had to bring her back.

  Finally one voice called out, "Remove the mask!" The cry was taken up in unison. Vance whispered to the girl at his side. She permitted him to take the mask from her face. Smiling happily, Ella Gunthar stood before us.

  Joan Rexon arose in triumphant delight. "I knew it was Ella!" She was almost in tears. "I always knew Ella could do it. Isn't she marvelous, Richard?"

  But young Rexon was already on the terrace steps, making his way to the rink. Carrington Rexon and the doctor stepped to Miss Joan's side.

  "Oh, Dad!" the girl exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "It's as much a surprise to me as it is to you, my dear. Mr. Vance told me merely he had arranged something for you. I had no idea it was a surprise like this."

  "All right, now. All right," Quayne put in admonishingly. "I think that's enough for this evening, Joan." The two men helped the girl indoors.

  A noisy circle surrounded Ella Gunthar on the rink. The workmen, having been permitted to witness the performance, now moved off. The guests withdrew indoors.

  Later they gathered in the drawing room. The performers came up from the pavilion, still in their costumes. Vance, showered with congratulations, disclaimed all credit.

  "It's all Miss Naesmith's doing, I assure you," he told everyone.

  Ella Gunthar came in, escorted by Richard Rexon. She was enthusiastically greeted on all sides. She seemed upset and nervous and remained only long enough to embrace Miss Joan and say a few words to her. Young Rexon's and Vance's offers to see her home were refused with polite determination. She hurried away alone.

  The phonograph was brought back from the rink. Someone wound it up and started a record. Soon dancing began. Quayne brought the housekeeper in and directed her to get Miss Joan off to bed. The woman had a new look of pride about her and was almost cheerful as she took charge of the girl and led her from the room.

  The gaiety of the party increased. Only Jacques Bassett sat morosely by himself. Quayne was about to approach him, but was buttonholed by Miss Naesmith with a request for the best antidote to seasickness. Richard Rexon joined Bassett at his table.

  Vance had had enough. He bade his host good night. O'Leary came up with a questioning look. But Vance put him off.

  "Let's sleep on it, Lieutenant," he said. "Come round before noon...Jolly party, what?...Cheeri-o."

  O'Leary watched sullenly as Vance mounted the stairs.

  CHAPTER XII - QUEEN ISTAR'S NECKLACE

  (Sunday, January 19; 9:30 a.m.)

  Vance rose early again Sunday. After strong coffee he invited me to stroll with him in the clear winter sunshine. Snow had fallen in the early hours of the morning; the world about us was covered with a fresh white blanket. We took a footpath that led down to the small pond in the Green Glen where we had first come upon Ella Gu
nthar. As we skirted a high bush at one end of the pond a small cabin came into view.

  "The Green Hermit's cottage, I'll warrant," commented Vance. "Sabbath morn visit to the druid in order."

  The door was slightly ajar. Vance rapped. There was no response. He pushed the door wide open. At a small table near a window sat Old Jed. He looked up without surprise.

  "Good morning," Vance said pleasantly from the threshold. "May we come in?"

  The old man nodded indifferently. His attention was focused on some object between his fingers. As we approached him he raised his hands. The sun fell full on a dazzling necklace of emeralds.

  "Six cabochons on a chain of smaller stones," said Vance half to himself. Then admiringly to the old man: "Lovely, isn't it?"

  Old Jed smiled with childish delight as he let the green stones slide between his fingers.

  Vance sat down beside him. "What else have you?"

  Old Jed shook his head.

  "What did you do with the others?"

  "No others. Only this." He spread the necklace on the table, inviting Vance to share his ecstasy. "Like the green meadows in springtime," he said mystically. "Like running streams of water-- like God's trees in summer:--green, all beauty in nature is green." His eyes shone fanatically.

  "Yes," said Vance, falling in with his mood. "Spring...the green of nature all about:

  'And all the meadows, wide unrolled,

  Were green and silver, green and gold.'"

  He looked up kindly.

  "Find it, Jed?"

  A shake of the head from the old man. "Where did you get it?"

  Another shake of the head. "You're a friend of Miss Ella?" the hermit asked as if eager to change the subject.

  "Yes. Of course. And you are too."

  The grey head bobbed enthusiastically up and down. "But that fellow Mr. Richard brought home with him. Are you a friend of his?"

  "Mr. Bassett? No. No friend of his. Far from it...What about him?"

  "No good," declared Old Jed with strict economy of words.

  Vance raised his brows slightly. "Did he give you that green necklace?"

  "No!" The old man was petulant. "He came here to make trouble for Miss Ella."

  "Really, now! When was that?"

  "He came here last night. Before the swell doin's up at the big house. He thought Miss Ella was alone. But I saw him." Old Jed cackled. "Now he won't come here no more."

  "No? Why not?"

  "He won't come no more," repeated the other vaguely..."But up at the big house, Mister: you'll take care of Ella?"

  "Certainly," promised Vance. "She'll be all right...But tell me, Jed; how did you get that trinket?"

  The old man looked back at him in blank silence.

  Vance tried strategy. "It's for Miss Ella's sake I must know."

  "Miss Ella, she doesn't do anything bad."

  "Then tell me where you got that necklace," persisted Vance.

  The old man looked about him in perplexity. His eyes came to rest on the small phonograph we had seen Ella Gunthar using. He looked up at Vance triumphantly. "There!" He pointed to the instrument.

  Vance rose and brought it to the table. He opened it up and shook it, but without disclosing anything untoward. The old man picked up the necklace, placed it on the green felt base.

  "So," he said simply. "It was hidden there when I found it."

  Just then the door was pushed wide open again. Ella Gunthar stood there, a smile fading from her lips as she saw us. Old Jed stood up to greet her. Vance stepped across the room, took the girl gently by the hand, and led her to the table. Her glance fell on the open phonograph with the string of gems sparkling inside. Abruptly she turned away, her face white.

  "How much do you know about this, Miss Gunthar?" Vance asked indulgently.

  "I don't know--anything about it." Her answer was low and hesitant.

  "But you've seen it before?"

  "I--think so. In the Gem Room."

  "How did it happen to be hidden in your little music box? Jed says he found it there."

  "I--I don't know. Maybe it's not real."

  "Oh, it's real enough, my dear."

  "I don't know anything about it," she repeated stubbornly.

  "Now. I think you're fibbing again. Do you know that just such a necklace, and many other costly stones, are missing from the Gem Room?"

  She nodded. "Richard told me last night."

  "Did Richard give you this?"

  "No!" She glared at Vance indignantly. "And Jed doesn't know anything about it either. And neither does my father! Oh, you're all trying to pin lies on father--don't you think I know why that police officer from Winewood is always hanging around the estate?" Her words came in a passionate rush.

  Vance watched the unhappy girl appraisingly. "Who, then, my dear, do you think took the emeralds?" he asked calmly.

  "Who?--who?" she echoed. She bit her lips. She thought for several moments. Then, as if on sudden impulse, she blurted defiantly: "I took them--I took them, of course!"

  "You took them!" Vance repeated skeptically. "What else did you take besides the Istar necklace, Miss Ella?"

  "I don't know just what--some loose stones."

  "How did you get into the Gem Room?"

  "I found the door unlocked."

  "Oh, come now, Miss Ella. Mr. Rexon's not in the habit of leaving the Gem-Room door unlocked."

  "I found it unlocked," she insisted.

  "And once inside the room, what did you do?" "I opened two of the cases."

  Vance laughed softly. "You found those unlocked, too?"

  She drew up with a start. Tears formed in her eyes.

  "Then I--I--broke them," she stammered.

  "I see, Miss Ella. Then you won't mind coming with me to the Manor to tell Mr. Rexon all about it?"

  "No." She swallowed hard. "I won't mind."

  Old Jed looked from Vance to the girl and back to Vance. He furrowed his brow in an attempt to concentrate.

  "Mr. Vance," the girl asked timidly, "will Miss Joan have to know about it? And--and--Richard?"

  "I'm afraid so," said Vance. "But perhaps not at once, my dear. Are you ready to go?"

  Vance pocketed the necklace and accompanied the girl from the cabin. Again he took the footpath by which we had come. He made no further mention of the missing gems. Instead he asked: "Bassett been making himself objectionable again?"

  She kept her eyes straight ahead. "It was nothing...Did Jed tell you?...I never saw Jed so angry. I think Mr. Bassett was really frightened."

  The rest of the walk was in silence.

  Carrington Rexon was alone in the den. Ella Gunthar entered the room as Vance held the door for her. She stepped to one side and stood shyly with her back against the wall. Vance indicated a chair. The girl looked from him to Rexon and came forward.

  "Now, my dear," prompted Vance as she sat down.

  She lowered her eyes, gripped the sides of the chair.

  "Mr. Rexon, I--" She raised her head and then spoke very quickly. "I took the emeralds."

  "You what?" Rexon asked in astonishment.

  "I took the emeralds," she repeated more slowly.

  Rexon laughed bitterly in spite of himself.

  "I can prove it!" she declared recklessly. She extended her hand to Vance for the necklace. He brought it out, gave it to her. She placed it diffidently on the desk beside her.

  Rexon took it up eagerly, looked at it carefully. "The Istar necklace! Ah!" Then shrewdly: "Where are the rest?"

  The girl shook her head. "I won't tell you. I won't!" Her compressed lips indicated unmistakably that she would say no more.

  Rexon leaned back in his chair and studied the girl critically. Then crisply: "And you're the girl my son wants to marry!"

  Ella Gunthar's face suddenly flushed. Rexon's words had startled her.

  "Oh, yes, my dear young lady," Rexon continued coldly. "You didn't think I knew of the affair that's been going on between you and Richard. Miss N
aesmith told me about it only last night--Miss Naesmith, the girl I hoped would be his wife...Bah! After all I've done for you! You're not content to steal the love of my only son. You must take my emeralds too." He half rose in his anger. "I'm almost glad this thing has happened. It will be well worth the loss of the emeralds if I can save Richard..."

  Vance stepped swiftly round the desk and put his hand on the older man's shoulder. "My dear old friend, please! Don't turn a disappointment into a tragedy."

  Rexon relaxed under the persuasive pressure of Vance's hand.

  Tears flooded Ella Gunthar's eyes. Vance came to her side.

  "Poor child," he said soothingly, "don't you think this tragic farce has gone far enough? It's time for the truth now--all the truth you know. We're in the dark. We want your help. Some terrible forces are at work in the Manor here. Some dangerous criminal perhaps. You can help those you love only by telling us the truth. Will you?"

  She took a deep breath, dried her eyes. "Yes, I will," she said with unexpected determination.

  Vance sat down beside her. "Then tell me first: Whom are you trying to shield with this foolish tale of theft?"

  "I--I don't know exactly. But it seemed that everyone I love had suddenly been caught in an awful trap. Poor Jed, whom you caught with the necklace; my father, whom I knew that police officer suspected of all sorts of things; and, somehow, Richard...And it was all mixed up in some horrible way with that night on the cliff when poor Lief was killed. I--I--it was all confusion. And it seemed that only I could help."

  She buried her face in her hands, but when she looked up again her eyes were still dry.

  "And I had to try to help them without knowing how to go about it; for I really didn't know...Only little things, here and there, that didn't seem to fit together."

  "You poor child," murmured Vance again. "But please tell us what you do know--all the little things--anything that may come to your mind. Maybe it will help us all--especially those you love most."