"Young Hillboro was there, practising shots on the pool-table. Funny thing, you know. It had just started to get dark a little. As I stuck my head inside the door, he reached up and turned on the lights over the table. Then he looked at me in that way of his. 'Well, well,' he says, 'if it's not the Procurator of Judea! Been winning any chariot races today, Ben-Hur?'
"Is it mind-reading, like what they try to do in North Carolina? He wasn't at the Francis Marion Hotel today; he wasn't within miles of us when Miss Bruce made that slip o' the tongue. If it goes on this way they'll be callin' me a Jewish so-and-so, me that's been a good Episcopalian since the day I was born! Still, have I made the story clear so far?"
"Your recital," Dr. Fell proclaimed, "is both lucid and admirable. Be not troubled, I beg, by tasteless remarks about your supposed ancestry."
"Oh, I took him down a peg or two; he's not as tough as he looks. It'll be different, that's all, if anybody gets funny after a murder's been committed. He said, pretty reasonably, he hadn't mentioned the tomahawk until late afternoon because he couldn't be sure it was important. And there's other things I hadn't heard about, like the man on the beach with a sack over his shoulder.
"That's almost all, though I don't much like the part that comes next. Down I went to the ground floor. Nobody in the library, and Dr. Sheldon's car gone: the whole house might 'a' been deserted. It wasn't dark, but it was getting dark. I went out the front door. There was Henry in his gray suit, on the ground between the table and the chair. I hurried to him, and took care not to step in his tracks. He was as dead as a mackerel, but only just dead if I'm any judge.
"I was bending over him when something made me look up and around. There on the porch stood Madge Maynard, with her mouth open and her eyes big enough to drown in.
"She ran a-flyin' towards Henry, but stopped on the grass here as if her legs wouldn't support her much farther. I said, 'It's bad news, girl; I'm afraid he's a goner.' For a second she just stood there. Then she let out a screech they could have heard across at the Battery, and keeled over in a dead faint."
Captain Ashcroft switched off the flashlight.
"Afterwards, what with all the fuss and uproar and running around—carry her in the house, get her up to her room, phone the doctor to see how bad it is—what with all that ... Dr. Fell!"
"Eh?"
"Dr. Fell," roared the harassed detective, "have you heard one word I've said?" "Frankly . . ."
"You've been in a kind of a trance, with your eyes out across the water as if you could see something we couldn't see. It's only the lights of Charleston over there; they won't help us!"
"You are quite right, sir; they won't. I was wool-gathering again, I fear. You see—"
But Captain Ashcroft had embarked on a grievance.
"What with all that," he said, "I haven't had a chance at one single witness. Where were they? What were they up to? I've got to get at 'em soon, unless I want worse trouble than we're already in. —Mr. Grantham!"
"Yes?"
"Will you hop in the house and round up the witnesses? Ask 'em to wait in the library. This murderer took one hell of a risk, unless he's invisible as well as lighter than air. Somebody must have seen something. I'll be there in a minute or two, as soon as I've had a little private confab with Dr. Fell. Will you do that, young fellow?"
"Yes, of course."
Alan strode off under the high, incurious moon, not without a feeling that something besides mosquitoes might be on his track.
The front door still stood wide open. Through the screen door soft light glowed out from the crystal chandelier of the main hall. In that white and glistening cavern, where the grandfather clock ticked and the portrait of the first Richard looked down, all baseball equipment had been removed from the table, and the silver tray put back.
Camilla Bruce, her hand on the banister-rail, was just descending the black-and-white staircase at the rear. "Hello, Camilla." "Hello, Alan."
She completed the descent and moved towards him. Even at that inappropriate time he noted the clear complexion, the dark-blue eyes and pink mouth, the supple figure set off by a clinging dress. But she was also pale and distraught; his heart smote him.
"Camilla, Dr. Sheldon gave us your message, or at least a message. He said you wanted to see Dr. Fell, and see me too."
"Did I say I wanted to see you? Yes, I believe I did." She extended both hands, and he grasped them. For a moment they stood and looked at each other. "Alan, this is a ghastly business! Poor Madge!" "How is she?"
"Sleeping. She won't know anything until tomorrow morning; then she'll remember all over again. And we haven't a hope of getting away at the weekend, any of us! Not that I should go in any case, with Madge feeling as she does. But we'll stay and face the music whether we like it or not. Captain Ashcroft's made it very clear, even if he hasn't said much; he seemed quite exercised about it"
"That's not the only thing he's exercised about Apart from a murder under completely impossible circumstances, which has brought him to the verge of raving lunacy, he doesn't much like these Old Testament names."
"It's my fault, I know!"
"How could you help it? Your tongue slipped and you called him Jehoshaphat But—"
"The restaurant wasn't the only time. You and Dr. Fell left here at not much past six o'clock, just before poor Mr. Maynard went out to the terrace. Madge and Yancey and Rip and I were in the library. You hadn't been gone ten minutes when another car drove up. I looked out of the-window and said, 'Be on your best behavior, everybody; here comes Jehoshaphat Ashcroft!' Rip said, 'I'm getting out of here, good people; I ought to have gone long ago.' And he went.
"Captain Ashcroft talked to George out in the hall. Then he marched in here and carried on about the tomahawk without telling us how he knew the tomahawk was gone. After about twenty minutes he left to tackle Rip upstairs. Yancey said, 'I'm gettin' out too; old Melchizedek's on the warpath for fair.' Yancey went out through the weapons-room into the back garden just as Dr. Sheldon arrived and hung over Madge as solicitously as though he were trying to qualify for her fan club. He said he was going back to Charleston, and had some errands on the way. I asked him, I practically begged him, to get you and Dr. Fell. And I think—I'm not sure, but I think —I must have called Captain Ashcroft 'Jehoshaphat' again."
"Camilla, stop worrying about it! Which reminds me. Our biblical friend told me to 'round up' the witnesses and put 'em in the library. Where is everybody, by the way?"
"They know! They know there's to be an inquisition, that is. They're coming (all except Madge, of course), and they'll be here at any minute! Meanwhile, about the other thing ..."
Reluctantly he had released her hands.
"As I say, Camilla, forget the other thing. It doesn't matter a hoot what you called Captain Ashcroft two or three hours ago, so long as we can restrain people's sense of humor now that there's been real trouble. The next one who addresses him as Herod Antipas or Moon of Israel is going to get it in the neck. Barring that, what difference does it make? It was only a slip of the tongue to begin with . . ."
"But it wasn't a slip of the tongue," cried Camilla, "even to begin with! His name is Josephus Daniels Ashcroft. I knew that perfectly well, just as I know you were at Cambridge and not at Oxford. He annoyed me, that's all. I—I get cross with people; I say things I had no intention of saying, or at least that I'd give years off my life to take back! You must think I'm a pretty dreadful person, don't you?"
"No, Camilla, that's not my view at all. But suppose you and I open the ball by adjourning to the library now. Then, when the Tetrarch of Galilee arrives for his investigation . . ."
"Alan, don't you start!"
"All right; sorry."
He led her to the library door, down four steps into that gray room of books with fine bindings, where the light of many lamps shone on furniture upholstered in yellow satin. As though by instinct Camilla went to the grand piano and sat down on its bench.
"Do you know," she
said, "that nobody's had a bite to eat all evening? I don't want anything, and neither does anybody else. The cook prepared a dinner, but—"
"If I drove you as far as the main road, you could at least get sandwiches and coffee. There was a lunch-wagon of sorts beside the gas-station."
"I meant it, Alan!" she assured him earnestly, putting her hand on his arm. "I simply couldn't eat a thing; after what's happened, it would choke me. Was there anything else on your mind?"
"Well, yes. If you feel up to it, you might tell me what happened just before the murder was discovered. It's the first thing the Tet—it's the first thing Captain Ashcroft will ask."
"I'll try. What did you want to know, exactly?"
"Captain Ashcroft went up to the top floor to see Rip Hillboro, and did see him. Dr. Sheldon arrived, stayed for a short while, and left. Did you and Madge remain here?"
"Yes, for a time."
"What about the others, Bob Crandall and Mrs. Huret?"
"Mr. Crandall had gone upstairs before Captain Ashcroft got here; Valerie followed him. I rather gather they weren't exactly together afterwards; but there's been too much rumpus to learn what anybody was doing. Madge was horribly restless. Finally she said she was going up to her room; she went out, and I heard her go upstairs. I stayed here."
"All the time, Camilla?"
"Yes, all the time! Madge seemed to want to be alone; I didn't know what to do. I prowled and prowled. I sat down here at the piano, but that didn't seem to be right, somehow. I opened one of those wire bookcase-doors, and took down a book at random. It was The Prophet Isaiah and His Message; I put it back again. Just to occupy myself—I can't tell you why, really!—I went over there."
Rather shakily Camilla gestured towards the closed door of the weapons-room.
"When Yancey went out to the back garden through that room, he must have opened and closed the French window without disturbing the curtains; they were still closed and in place, and the room was dark. I was just inside, reaching for the light-switch to the left of the door, when I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs out in the hall.
"It was a distinctive tread; it couldn't have been anybody but Captain Ashcroft. I thought, 'Dear God, more questions!' So I didn't turn on the light; I just stood there. And it was Captain Ashcroft. He looked into the library, but didn't see anybody and must have decided we'd all gone. He stayed in the hall for a few moments, muttering to himself; then he went outdoors and let the screen door bang.
"I thought, 'We're rid of him.' But we weren't.
"Well, I got out of the weapons-room in a hurry, and closed the door as you see it now. Then I heard Madge coming down the stairs. At least, I supposed it was Madge, and I know now it was. She went out on the porch. It couldn't have been thirty seconds later that Madge screamed. She screamed so horribly that I almost felt I knew, though I couldn't have known anything at all.
"I ran out of the library and out on the porch. Over by the terrace Madge was lying on the grass in a faint. Everybody else seemed to be pouring downstairs into the hall, including servants, though for the life of me I can't remember who was there. Madge wasn't coherent at any time afterwards, even when she came out of her faint. All she'd say was, 'Why did God take him? Why did God take him, of all people?' And that's all I can . . ." Camilla broke off. "Alan, don't leave me! Where are you going?"
"Only to the weapons-room."
"Why?"
"Camilla," he said, "forgive me for intruding brutal details; I'm afraid there'll be enough of 'em before we've finished."
"Yes? What is it?"
"The side of Mr. Maynard's head was crushed with one heavy blow. It wasn't done with a tomahawk; we know that now. If something else has gone from that room, say a musket or one of those rifles . . ."
Thick, airless night had closed in with almost physical pressure. As Alan moved towards the weapons-room, Camilla clinging to his arm, the door opened.
In the aperture stood Yancey Beale, his right hand on the light-switch and his left shading his eyes. The lights were full on behind him, silhouetting the lanky figure.
"Come in, old son," Yancey said in an odd voice. "Come as far as the door, anyway! Got something to show you."
With Camilla clinging and pressing, Alan went no farther than the door. He put his arm around her and held her.
Beyond the threshold he saw not only white room and black weapons. Yancey, with a look still more odd on his clean-cut features, was pointing to the blackboard on its easel by the French window. As though in response to Alan's thoughts, letters had been printed with chalk on the blackboard for a message that leaped out at him.
NO, THERE IS NO OTHER WEAPON MISSING. YOU MAY LOOK FAR BEFORE YOU FIND IT. BUT BE ASSURED OF MY ASSISTANCE AT ALL TIMES.
And it was signed Respectfully present, N.S.
"More fun and games, eh?" demanded Yancey Beale. "You want to bet the 'N.S.' don't stand for Nathaniel Skeene? He's respectfully present, is he? And it's another
one for the late Dr. M. R. James; you want to bet that too?"
Heard clearly, through two open doors and around the corner, fluid chimes rang from the grandfather clock out in the hall, which struck a single deep note. Alan glanced at his watch. It was half-past nine.
10
Once more fluid chimes rippled from the grandfather clock in the hall; it struck eleven-thirty.
At the end of the inquisition, which after all had been a fairly easy inquisition, four persons remained in the library. Dr. Fell's bulk was piled on the sofa. Captain Ashcroft, notebook on knee, occupied an armchair in the north-west corner of the room, under towering walls of books. Camilla and Alan sat side by side on the piano bench. It was the same group who had lunched at the hotel.
As the clock struck, Captain Ashcroft rose to his feet Beefy, red-faced, grizzled at the temples, he corked down his temper and addressed Dr. Fell.
"Then what it amounts to," he announced, "is just this? Nobody saw anything—anywhere, any place, any time!"
"Is it so very surprising?" asked Dr. Fell. "They were used to our friend Maynard being on that terrace. Once his presence was established, they forgot him. Nobody ever went near him; nobody so much as thought of him . . ."
"Except the one who killed him."
"Oh, ah. We must always except the murderer."
"They've gone to bed now. Leastways," said Captain Ashcroft, "they've gone upstairs, whether or not they do much sleeping. What did you make of that bunch, Dr. Fell?"
"We-ell . . ."
"What beats me, what sticks in my craw like something you might think of in a graveyard, is that we've probably been talking to the murderer all the time!"
"Probably," said Dr. Fell, "although not necessarily."
"And at least," the other argued, "at least the women are disposed of. Henry's daughter full of drugs and sound asleep! Mrs. Huret on her way home! We've disposed of 'em, that is, except ..."
His eye strayed towards Camilla, who sat up straight.
"I'll go, of course, if you tell me to," she said. "I don't want to go; I don't want to be alone. Still, if you order me out—!"
"Well, now, ma'am, I can't see you're doing any great harm where you are. You're comfortable, sort of, though maybe Mr. Grantham wouldn't agree." He turned back to Dr. Fell. "The women are disposed of, I said. Whatever we think, whichever way we turn, one thing is certain-sure: no woman is concerned in this business! Don't you think so too?"
"It depends on what you mean by 'concerned.'"
"How's that?"
Dr. Fell drew in his breath and exhaled it in a vast puff.
"If you mean," he returned, "that no woman committed this crime or is concealing guilty knowledge of it, then despite the fog on these wits I most heartily agree. Yes, by thunder! But there are other ways of being concerned. We must seek roots; we must go after first causes."
"Yes, and that's another thing! Always go for motive, Dr. Fell; it's my motto, and it's a pretty safe rule. But you can name anybody y
ou want to, anybody in the whole case so far, and yet there's not one damn sign of a motive!"
"Sir," said Dr. Fell, "are you sure?"
"Well, look at what we've got!"
Here Captain Ashcroft held up his notebook.
"Take Yancey Beale, to begin with. Now, I know the boy; I know his daddy. I'd hate to think he did what he oughtn't to do, and deep down inside I know he didn't. He swings a mean baseball bat; that's about the worst you can say.
"After I'd talked to him and to Madge Maynard and Miss Bruce here in the library, I hiked upstairs to see Big-League Pitcher Hillboro. You all heard what Yancey told us. He went out to the back garden by way of the weapons-room there—not turning on the lights—and prowled around without doing much of anything. In fact, he walked as far as the old slave-cabins."
"That, if I may mention it here," intoned Dr. Fell, "is the part about which I am not clear. What slave-cabins?"
"About a hundred yards west of that garden," Captain Ashcroft answered, "there are ten brick cabins set in two rows of five each. A hundred years ago the house-slaves —as opposed to the field-hands, who were on another part of the estate—lived in those cabins. They're still in a pretty fair state of repair for places nobody uses or has used since the old days.
"All right! Yancey went as far as the cabins, just messing around all by himself. He was on the way back when he heard the young lady scream. He didn't know what it was, but he knew it was bad. And he didn't return the same way he went out; he ran around the north side of the house to the front. He was with the rest of 'em (I remember that) when I carried Miss Maynard upstairs. He stayed nearby—you might say he hovered over her—until Dr. Wickfield got here from town and said she was in no danger.
"Out he went again, by the front door and around to the back where he'd been. 'Kept thinkin' about it,' he says; and smoked about half a pack of cigarettes. But he remembered how I'd said nobody must leave here, and I wanted all of 'em in the house for questioning as soon as the hoo-ha had died down a little. So—"
Dark of the moon - Dr. Gideon Fell 22 Page 12
