The Affair of the Bloodstained Egg Cosy

by James Anderson

  * * *

  Jane stood quite motionless outside her bedroom door, listening. She could hear no sound, other than the almost non-stop rolling of the thunder. She felt in her dressing gown pocket, took out a box of matches, and struck one. Its feeble glow showed little, but it did seem that there was nobody in her immediate vicinity.

  Jane crossed to the door of the picture gallery and opened it wide. She put her head inside and switched the light on just long enough to see that the gallery was empty, all the pictures were present, and the door to the gun room closed. She thought to go across and try it, but then changed her mind. She closed the door, turned to her right, and started to make her way slowly along the corridor towards the main block. As she approached the corner, she heard the stable clock chime two-thirty.

  At the same moment the clock chimed, the match burnt down to Jane's fingers. She hastily shook it out, struck another one, and started to creep forward again. She turned the corner.

  Then her heart leapt and the match fell from her hand as from somewhere in front of her came a sudden eruption of noise. It was a muffled bumping and crashing, and seemed to come from one of the rooms at the farther end of the corridor. Jane stood frozen, wondering what on earth to do. It was no business of hers. If a burglar had somehow broken in, there were plenty of men about to deal with the situation. Any second, surely, lights would come on, doors would open, voices would call out.

  But seconds passed and they didn't. And Jane knew that she had to do something. She couldn't possibly just go back to her room. She took a deep breath and started to grope her way forward again.

  Then the noise stopped. The storm, too, had abated and for a few seconds everything was quiet. She must be near the door of Richard's room. The obvious thing would be to wake him. She took a step, reaching forward to her right, and felt the smooth wood of a door. It gave under her pressure. It was ajar. It was the room where the linen was stored. She had passed Richard's door.

  Then Jane's blood froze, as out of the blackness came the sound of a woman's scream.

  It was a short, sharp scream, apparently quickly muffled, and seemed to originate from the ground floor. Almost at the same instant Jane heard hurrying, stumbling footsteps coming towards her along the corridor. She sensed rather than saw a dark shape looming up; then someone crashed into her, sending her flying.

  Jane ended up gasping for breath in an ungainly heap on the floor.

  As she lay there the whole house seemed to be full of muted noises: one set of footsteps blundering away behind her; others approaching from the front; somebody breathing heavily quite close; in the distance, somewhere in the west wing, an indefinable scuffling noise; and in the middle distance, ahead of her, the sound of a groan.

  It was all too much for Jane. In a way of which she was always afterwards ashamed, she panicked. She scrambled to her feet and felt wildly for the open door. She almost fell in. She just had the presence of mind to close it behind her softly.

  Her heart was pounding. They were coming after her. They mustn't find her. What could she do?

  It was not more than half a minute later that her panic subsided. Then she stood absolutely still for a few more seconds, deliberately calming herself down.

  There was no danger. She was surrounded by friends. Richard's room was next door. The Peabodys were across the corridor, the Earl and Countess not far away. Nobody was going to hurt her. If there was any burglar about, all she had to do was shout for help.

  Jane steeled herself and quickly opened the door again. She struck a match and stepped out into the corridor. The light switch was close at hand. She turned it on.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Break-Out

  The corridor flooded with light. Jane blinked around, fearful of what she was going to see.

  In fact, what she saw was not particularly alarming. About thirty yards from her, past the head of the grand staircase, Giles Deveraux was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the wall and rubbing his head. Jane ran up to him.

  'What happened?'

  'Somebody beaned me.' He stood up, still holding his head.

  'He went that way.' Jane pointed towards the east wing. 'He cannoned into me - sent me flying.'

  'You didn't see him?'

  'No, it was quite dark. Look, you'd better go and lie down. I'll go and get some cold pads - and some brandy.'

  'No, I'm all right. I want to find out what caused that noise.'

  'What noise?'

  'Didn't you hear? Sounded like some sort of scrap.'

  Jane stared. 'Wasn't that you?'

  'Oh no. My little fracas was very quiet - and the other started later.'

  'Where did the sound come from?'

  'Adler's room, I think. Yes - the door's ajar. Let's take a look.'

  He strode to the door, put his head in and switched on the light. 'Nobody in here,' he said. 'But there's been a scrap in here all right - the furniture's all over the place.'

  Jane said: 'Shouldn't we find out who screamed?'

  He spun round. 'I thought that was you.'

  'No, I think it came from downstairs.'

  'Did it? I was a bit too groggy to mark the direction. We'd better investigate.' He turned to the stairs.

  Then Jane stopped him. 'Wait - listen.'

  He paused, his head cocked. Somewhere in the west wing could be heard a banging sound, as of somebody pounding on a door.

  'Come on,' Deveraux said. He started off along the corridor at a brisk stride, Jane trotting meekly at his heels. They turned into the west corridor - and heard a muffled voice calling. Jane paused to switch on the lights. Deveraux pointed. 'It's coming from that cupboard.'

  'I know who it is too,' said Jane.

  The cupboard in question was on the left and the near side of the alcove in which was the door leading to the western extension and the servants' quarters. A chair, which usually stood near, had been jammed under the cupboard door knob. Deveraux pulled it away and opened the door.

  Gerry popped out like an indignant cork. She stared at them. 'What the blue blazes is going on around here?'

  'You tell us,' Jane said. 'How did you get in there?'

  'Somebody put me there, you chump! Do you think I decided to spend the night there just for fun?'

  'Don't get in such a stew. What happened?'

  'I heard a noise, started out to investigate, somebody ran into me in the dark, we wrestled, and he shoved me in here. What was the noise?'

  'A fight, we think. In Mr. Adler's room. The other man involved knocked me flying. And somebody else tried to brain Mr. Deveraux.'

  'Jiminy cricket.' Gerry's eyes were big.

  'Did you scream?' Deveraux asked.

  'No. But I heard somebody else scream just before the blister ran into me. It didn't sound like anyone in real danger - just momentarily startled.'

  Deveraux pursed his lips. 'It's time we had a look down there. First, though, I just want to see whether by any chance Adler's gone in to talk to Felman.'

  Gerry and Jane watched while he walked further down the corridor, quietly opened the door of Felman's room and disappeared inside. He emerged again in a few seconds and came back. 'No. Felman's fast asleep with the light out. Come on.'

  They made their way back along the main corridor and down the grand staircase, conversing in low tones. 'Where on earth has Adler gone?' Deveraux muttered.

  'Well, obviously an intruder got in,' Jane said. 'Presumably he's gone after him.'

  'An intruder could only have got in before the alarm was set,' Gerry whispered. 'So he must still be in the house. Do you think I ought to wake Daddy?'

  'Not just yet,' Deveraux said. 'Let's see what we can find out first. We don't know definitely that there is an intruder.'

  Before they could ask him to explain this, they reached the foot of the stairs. Deveraux asked Gerry to turn the lights on. She did so. They looked round the hall. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary.

  'Right,' said Dev
eraux, 'let's do this systematically. You'd both better stay close to me, just in case. I'll lead the way, but you can guide me. Where shall we start?'

  At Gerry's suggestion, they went to the rear of the west wing and worked their way back across the house, looking in every room. Nowhere did they find anything wrong. Yet in the minds of all three there was a certainty that something was going to happen. The tension grew, and by the time they'd been searching for twelve or thirteen minutes the two girls at least were getting decidedly jittery.

  It was when they were approaching the breakfast room that Jane stopped dead and grabbed Deveraux's arm.

  He turned quickly. 'What's up?'

  'Somebody in there.'

  'The breakfast room?'

  'Yes, I heard a movement.'

  'Sure?'

  'Of course!'

  Deveraux hesitated, wondering what was best to do.

  But Jane had had enough of skulking about in the dark and talking in whispers. Suddenly, she exclaimed: 'Oh, come on!' Then she dashed forward.

  'Wait!' Deveraux hissed. He tried to grab her.

  But Jane was already reaching for the knob. Perhaps her palms were sweaty, but her hand slipped as she clutched it and she fumbled for vital seconds before starting to open the door. Then, as she did so, there came from within the room the most tremendous crash and the sound of breaking glass. At the same moment the alarm bell started to clang in the hall.

  For two or three seconds Jane stood frozen, her hand on the knob. Then she threw the door wide open and burst into the room. Deveraux and Gerry were on her heels.

  The room was in darkness, but light from behind enabled her to see a big jagged, hole in the window. She stared, then gave a shout and pointed towards it. 'There he goes!' She dashed across the room, but just inside the window tripped and fell sprawling.

  Avoiding her, Deveraux ran to the window and looked out 'Which way did he go?'

  'Towards the lake.'

  Deveraux took a torch from his pocket, carefully squeezed himself through the gaping hole and disappeared into the darkness. Gerry put her head out and peered after him.

  'It's pitch black out there. I can't see a thing. And it's lashing with rain.'

  She turned to see Jane in the act of putting upright a wooden step ladder which had been lying flat on the floor.

  'Is that what tripped you?'

  'Yes.' She leaned it against the wall.

  'You couldn't tell who the man was?'

  'No, I only saw him for a split second. And only in the light from the hall.'

  Gerry said: 'He must have heard us outside and deliberately smashed the window - probably with that.' She pointed to a chair which was lying on its side.

  Before Jane could answer, Deveraux came back in through the window. He was already soaking. 'Hopeless,' he said. 'This torch is quite inadequate. I can't see more than a couple of yards.'

  There was a footstep in the hall. They turned to see Merryweather, as dignified as ever in dressing gown and slippers. 'The alarm went off in my room, your ladyship. Has there been a break-in?'

  'No, Merry, a break-out,' said Gerry.

  Deveraux went to the doorway and explained the situation in a few words. Then he said: 'Merryweather, I'd like you to organise a thorough search of the servants' quarters and make sure no one is hiding there. At the same time will you check that the women servants are all right and find out if any of them have been up or out of their wing of the house - or if one of them screamed for any reason.'

  Merryweather flicked a brief glance at Gerry. She gave an infinitesimal nod, and Merryweather said: 'Very good, sir.' He walked away.

  Deveraux turned to Gerry. 'Lady Geraldine, no doubt the alarm has woken your parents. I wonder if you would be so kind as to go up and explain just what has happened. Tell your father there's no need to hurry down, but I'd be obliged if he could meet me in the library in a few minutes. Then rouse your uncle and tell him the same. Also, afterwards check that the Baroness is all right. I'm sorry to treat you like one of your own maids, but it is urgent.'

  Gerry grinned. 'Aye, aye, sir.' She ran from the room.

  Jane was looking at Deveraux, a somewhat quizzical expression on her face. 'We're very masterful all of a sudden, Mr. Deveraux.'

  'Not really, Miss Clifton. Merely efficient.'

  'Do you have no errand on which to send me flying, sir?'

  'If you wish to cooperate, Miss Clifton - on a basis of equality, of course.'

  'Oh, I would not presume to such eminence. Simply issue your orders.'

  'Very well. I'd like to know whether the other guests in the east wing are in their rooms. That's Thornton, Fotheringay and Evans. Will you go and see? There's no need to wake them.'

  'I tremble and obey.' Jane salaamed, turned away and started to walk off in the direction of the east wing. Over her shoulder, she said: 'I'll go up the back stairs. It'll be quicker.'

  Deveraux watched her retreating form for a few seconds. Then he looked at his watch - it showed two-fifty-three - and went back into the breakfast room. He crossed to the window, looked round on the floor and saw for the first time that among the few fragments of broken glass which had fallen inwards, a pair of wire cutters was lying. A pot plant, normally kept on the window-ledge, had also been put on the floor against the wall. Deveraux went up to the window and shone his torch round the frame. From the top right-hand corner two electric wires ran straight up and disappeared behind the picture rail. Deveraux fetched another chair from against the wall, stood on it, and satisfied himself that the wire was intact. Then he got down, replaced the chair, and left the room.

  * * *

  Lord Burford ran his fingers through his hair. 'Extraordinary. Absolutely extraordinary. One of me guests knocked on the head, me daughter shut up in a cupboard, and someone smashing a window to break out of the house in the middle of the night after trying to put the burglar alarm out of action '

  'I'm only assuming that,' Deveraux said. 'But the step ladder and the wire cutters would indicate that that's what he intended if we hadn't disturbed him.'

  'It wouldn't have done the bounder any good, of course,' Lord Burford said. 'Cuttin' the wires would have set the alarm off anyway. The point is, though, what shall I do now?'

  'Naturally, George, you must call the police.' Lady Burford, wearing a dressing gown and shingle-cap, spoke positively.

  'I was just wonderin' my dear, as it seems so far that Deveraux here is the only person hurt, whether, if no other harm's done, we ought to leave the decision to him. I'm prepared to forget about the broken window, but naturally, my dear chap, you'll want the johnny who bopped you traced.'

  'It's not that, Lord Burford. The thing is that three people must have been involved in what happened. The man who hit me was not one of those who were fighting. One of those men locked up Lady Geraldine and may or may not have been Adler. It may have been Adler who went through the window. Or it may have been an intruder, who got into the house and hid before you locked up. Or it may have been one of the other guests - we should know that any moment. If it was Adler, why did he do it? If it wasn't, where is he? In either case, he's the envoy of a foreign government, and ought to be searched for immediately. Finally, unless there were two intruders, it seems an inevitable conclusion that one at least of your other guests is not what he seems to be.'

  Just then Merryweather entered. Lord Burford turned to him a trifle irritably. 'Yes, Merryweather, what is it?'

  'Mr. Deveraux instructed me to make some enquiries among the servants, my lord.' He looked at Deveraux. 'I have searched our quarters thoroughly, sir. No one is concealed there. The housekeeper has woken all the maids. None of them has been out of bed tonight and none has screamed or heard a scream.'

  'Thank you. Tell me, are all the girls reliable?'

  'I have always found them entirely so, sir, and I am confident her ladyship will say the same.' He cast a quick glance at the Countess, who gave a decisive nod. 'Most of them are local,' Mer
ryweather continued, 'the youngest has been in service here for two years, most of the others considerably longer. Likewise the male staff.'

  Deveraux nodded. 'Many thanks.'

  'Right-ho, Merryweather,' Lord Burford said. 'Better not go back to bed yet, though.'

  'Very good, my lord.'

  Merryweather turned to leave, and was nearly knocked over by an excited Geraldine. She addressed Deveraux breathlessly. 'The Baroness isn't in her room. Her bed's not been slept in, though most of her things are still scattered around.'

  Deveraux swore under his breath.

  Lord Burford said: 'Have you told Rich?'

  'No, I thought I'd let you. I called him before I went to her room. He should be on his way down any moment.'

  Before the Earl could reply, Jane hurried in. She too was out of breath. She said: 'Sorry to interrupt, Lord Burford.' She turned to Deveraux. 'Mr. Thornton was already awake and I woke Mr. Evans accidentally. They're both coming down.'

  'And Fotheringay?'

  'Well, Algy's asleep—' She broke off.

  'Yes?'

  'Well, it's awfully odd. He's asleep on the floor with all his clothes on.'

  Lord Burford clapped a hand to his brow. 'This is getting like one of those Greek tragedies where messengers keep rushing in with more and more impossible tidings. Is the feller ill?'

  'He doesn't seem to be. He's breathing normally and he looks quite stupidly peaceful. But I couldn't wake him.'

  'No smell of drink?'

  'None at all.'

  'Extraordinary. Have to get the chap a doctor, I suppose.' Then, as John Evans appeared in the doorway behind Jane, Lord Burford said: 'Come in, my boy. Tell us what ghastly news you've got.'