“Let’s get them up to the house,” he suggested.
Returning to Fausta, I got one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders and began carrying her to the house. It was not the first time I had ever carried her, but now she was 115 pounds of dead weight, which makes a surprising difference. Behind me staggered Arnold, similarly carrying Grace. Dr. Lawson brought along the two empty glasses which had caused all the trouble.
Abigail Stoltz came in from the dining-room as we entered the front door; her eyes grew large, and she asked, “What’s the matter?”
I grunted in reply and moved on to the stairs. We deposited Grace and Fausta side by side on the bed in Grace’s room. Dr. Lawson had followed us into the room and stood holding the two drinking-glasses as though wondering what to do with them. His trunks were still wet enough to drip an occasional drop of water on the rug.
“Set them on the dresser,” I told the doctor.
Carefully he set the two glasses side by side, then frowned at them. “I doubt that we’ll be able to get an analysis unless they hit it on the first test,” he said. “There’s barely a drop left between the two of them.”
“Think it could be anything more poisonous than knockout drops?” I asked.
He shook his head, but his expression was worried. “Not likely from the symptoms.” He turned toward the doorway, where Ann, Abigail Stoltz, and Edmund hovered. “Get my bag from my room, will you, Edmund?”
A few minutes later, after employing his stethoscope on both sleeping women, checking their pulses, and again thumbing open their eyes for a moment, Dr. Lawson said, “My guess is chloral hydrate, or what is commonly known as a Mickey Finn. The heart action is strong enough to indicate only a moderate dose, but they’ll be out for a matter of hours.”
“Then nothing can be done for them now?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Let them sleep it off. A stomach pump might bring them out of it a little sooner, but would probably leave them sicker than if we do nothing at all. I really don’t think there is any danger of their having obtained a lethal dose.”
I turned to the three people standing near the doorway and said, “I want you all down in the drawing-room. And stay there until I tell you differently.”
All three looked startled, but Edmund and Abigail submissively started for the stairs at once. A flash of anger heightened Ann Lawson’s beauty, and she remained where she was.
“It’s another murder attempt, Mrs. Lawson,” I said more gently. “I’m assuming charge until we can get the police here, so I’m afraid you’ll have to obey my orders even though it is your house. Will you phone the police before you go in the drawing-room, please?”
Her anger died to uncertainty. Finally, in a small voice, she said, “All right,” and followed the others.
“Now just what happened?” I asked Dr. Lawson.
“I really don’t know,” he said. “I went out to the pool for a swim”—He glanced at Arnold’s swim trunks—“I suppose none of us should be swimming so soon after Don’s funeral, but it’s too hot for propriety—and I found Miss Moreni lying in the sun asleep, as I thought. Just as I prepared to dive in, I saw Grace down in the deep end, drifting toward the bottom. I yelled to the house for help, then jumped in and pulled her out. Judging from the small amount of water in her lungs, she must have just fallen in, and I got her out again in practically no time. I used to be a lifeguard as a kid, you see.”
I looked over his wiry, leanly muscled body and nodded. In swim shorts he was not nearly as slight-appearing as he seemed when fully clothed.
“You think she fell in, then?” I asked.
His eyebrows went up. “You mean possibly someone threw her in after she was unconscious?”
“What else?” I said. “Whoever is trying to kill her could hardly depend on her falling in the pool when she passed out. As a matter of fact, I was present when those drinks were delivered by Edmund, and Grace sat three feet from the edge then. The position of her glass indicates she stayed right there while she drank her Coke, so she must have been thrown in.”
Dr. Lawson ground his right fist into his left palm. “A minute earlier, and I’d have caught the killer in the act!”
“A minute later,” I said dryly, “and you might as well not have arrived at all.”
“But what a stupid way to attempt murder!” Arnold Tate protested. “It would have been much simpler just to poison her drink.”
I shook my head. “I thought about that all the time we were carrying them up here, trying to figure out how the killer managed to dope the drinks. Both bottles were open when I first saw them, and I’ll have to check Edmund before we can know definitely, but I imagine we’ll find those bottles weren’t out of his sight from the time he opened them until he delivered the drinks.”
“You mean Edmund doped them?” Arnold asked puzzledly.
“Not necessarily. In fact it’s most unlikely. But since any carbonated drink goes flat if it stands too long, it isn’t probable Edmund uncapped the bottles, then left them standing while he went off and did something else. I imagine we’ll find uncapping the bottles was the last thing he did before picking up his tray and starting for the pool.”
Both of them continued to look at me puzzledly.
“How many people in this house drink Coke?” I asked.
Arnold looked blank, but Dr. Lawson corrugated his brow and finally said slowly, “Just Grace, I believe. She always has a Coke when the rest of us have cocktails.”
“And wouldn’t everyone in the house know that?”
“I suppose so. Yes, of course they would.”
“So presumably,” I said, “a few bottles of Coke are always in the refrigerator for Grace.”
“I suppose so,” the doctor said again. “Seems likely.”
“Anyone, even as inefficient a murderer as this one seems to be, could reason that out,” I went on. “Coke in the refrigerator. No one but Grace normally drinks it. Dope all the Coke in the refrigerator, and who is most likely to pass out eventually?”
“Grace, of course,” Dr. Lawson said pettishly. “Is this an exercise in juvenile logic?”
I ignored the question. “But the killer couldn’t be sure someone else might not decide to have a Coke. One of the servants perhaps, or a strange guest—and as a matter of fact, a strange guest did order one. If he was just after Grace, he probably wouldn’t want to chance accidentally killing half a dozen other people along with her.” I glanced at Arnold. “That answer your question about why the drink wasn’t poisoned instead of merely doped?”
“Yes,” he said doubtfully. “But how could he know she’d be near the pool when she drank one?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted. “For that matter, Edmund may knock my whole theory into a cocked hat by telling us he left the open bottles unattended for a while.”
Arnold was frowning at the two women on the bed. “I have an idea,” he said slowly. “I never thought of it before, but for a teetotaler, Grace has pretty definite drinking habits. After a horseback ride, or a tennis or badminton match, she always has iced milk. Out by the pool, and during the cocktail hour, she always orders a Coke. She was almost bound to get the dope either at the pool or at cocktails.”
I thought this over. “That fits in neatly,” I said. “If she gets it at cocktails, everyone is puzzled, but no real harm is done the killer. If he is lucky, she passes out alone by the pool and, screened from the house by the willows, he dumps her in the water. Except for the pure accident of a combination lifeguard and doctor arriving just after it happened, this time it would have worked. And except for Fausta being present and obviously doped, it might possibly have passed for an accidental drowning. Maybe this guy—or woman, whichever it is—isn’t as inefficient as he’s seemed in the past.”
Going over to the bed, I smoothed aside Fausta’s bright hair and felt the pulse behind her ear. It seemed slow, but steady, and her breathing was still regular. As I looked down at her sleeping face,
it occurred to me it was going to be a distinct pleasure to catch this particular killer, for the only thing in the world which could make me more determined to nail anyone who passed at one of my clients, was for him to accidentally catch Fausta in the crossfire.
I asked the doctor, “Think I should get one of the women up here to get Grace out of that wet swimming-suit?”
“The bed’s already wet,” he said. “And in this heat it hardly matters.”
I turned to Arnold. “You and Doctor Lawson stay right in this room until I get back. No one else gets in for anything. Understand?”
He nodded mutely.
“And you, Doctor?”
“All right,” he said. “Under the circumstances someone has to stay, of course.”
Downstairs I stuck my head into the drawing-room and motioned to Edmund.
“Tell me, Edmund,” I said, when he had come over to the door. “After you opened those two Coke bottles, were they out of your sight?”
“No, sir. I opened ‘em just ‘fore carrying ‘em out.”
“Good,” I told him. “Have you seen Mr. Greene?”
All that got me was a blank stare. Finally he said, “You mean your gentleman’s gen’man, sir?”
This got Edmund a blank stare from me. “Gentleman’s gentleman? Didn’t know I had one, but where is it?”
“In the kitchen, last I saw, sir.”
I made my way back to the kitchen and found Maggie, Kate, and Mouldy Greene sitting at the table drinking iced coffee.
Maggie and Kate got up when I looked in, and Mouldy waved an expansive hand. “Hi, Sarge. Draw up a glass and sit down.”
I motioned the two women back to their chairs. If I ever earn enough money to hire servants, I intend to dispense with the customary formalities. I could never grow accustomed to women rising when I entered a room, and all it does is embarrass me.
I said to Mouldy, “What’s this gentleman’s gentleman stuff?”
Greene looked puzzled and Maggie’s face suddenly assumed a suspicious frown.
“Isn’t this gentleman your valet, sir?” she asked. “No,” I told her.
“Well!” she said in an outraged voice. “He came to the kitchen door and said he was with you, so naturally I assumed he was your gentleman’s gentleman.”
I crooked my finger at Mouldy, who was staring at Maggie in astonishment. When he came over to the door, I pushed him through it in the direction of the stairway.
“He’s not a guest, either, Maggie,” I said ever my shoulder. “I bought him from a circus for a pet.”
I led my moronic friend upstairs, directed him into the room where Fausta and Grace lay, and gestured toward the bed. Ignoring Grace entirely, he stared down at Fausta in bewilderment.
“What’s the matter with her?” he asked.
“Knockout drops,” I said.
Knotting both oversized fists, he glared at Dr. Lawson and Arnold belligerently. “Who done it?”
“We don’t know yet,” I told him. “I’m going to give you a simple task even you won’t be able to ball up. See that chair?” I pointed to a cushioned straight-back near the window.
He examined it intently, finally nodding.
“Sit in it and stay there until both Fausta and Grace wake up. Dr. Lawson and I are allowed in the room. If anyone else tries to get in, pitch him or her out.”
“Out the window?” he asked interestedly.
“Out the door!” I yelled. I never yell at anyone but Mouldy, but with him I can’t help it. In a more moderate tone I said, “I don’t mean literally. Just keep everyone else out.”
“How about me?” asked Arnold.
“No,” I said. “It would be too much of a strain for him to remember three people. Just the doctor and me.”
“I got you, Sarge,” Mouldy said. “You and the doc get in; everyone else gets the old heave-ho.”
We left Mouldy in charge. Arnold and the doctor went to their rooms to dress, while I returned to the kitchen. Maggie, now alone, examined me with suspicion when I stuck my head in the door. Apparently I had fallen in her estimation because of association with Greene.
“There’s been another accident, Maggie,” I said. “Heard about it?”
Her eyes spread, and an expression of alarm displaced the suspicion. “Not Miss Grace?”
“Yes, but nothing serious. She’s all right now. Any Coke in the refrigerator?”
She regarded me from blank eyes. “Edmund will take your order,” she said finally.
“I don’t want a drink,” I explained patiently. “I’m simply asking a question.”
“Well, yes. Some. Four bottles, I think.”
“Get it for me, will you? All of it.”
After a moment of curious scrutiny, she went to the huge refrigerator in one corner and brought out four bottles of Coke. “Do you want them opened?” she asked politely.
“No.”
Setting the bottles on the table, I held one level with my eyes and carefully examined the cap. Then, holding the bottle with both hands, I pressed my thumbs upward. For a moment nothing happened, then with a slight pop, the cap flew off.
“Why, that’s the strongest thing I ever saw!” Maggie exclaimed.
I grinned at her. “It’s a trick, Maggie. Someone uncapped the bottles, then pressed the caps back on.”
Recovering the loose cap, I snapped it back in place. “How long have these been cooling?”
Her brow furrowed. “How long? I don’t know. Three, four days maybe. When they get low, I put in a dozen, so
I guess it’s been three days at least since I added any.” I thanked her and departed with the four bottles.
XIV
UPSTAIRS I SET THE COKE BOTTLES on Grace’s dresser next to the two empty glasses. “These aren’t to drink,” I told Mouldy. “They’re full of knockout drops. Don’t let anyone touch them till the cops arrive. Think you can remember that?”
“Sure,” he said resentfully. “Think I‘m a Mormon?”
There was a question I wanted to ask Mouldy, but I was afraid if I started what little mind he had along a fresh channel, he would forget all the instructions I had issued. I studied him contemplatively a few moments, then decided to risk it.
“While you were in the kitchen with Maggie and Kate,” I said, “did either of them leave at any time?”
“When was that?” he asked.
“Just before I brought you up here,” I explained in a slightly choked voice. “Remember—you were drinking iced coffee in the kitchen.”
“Oh, sure. Down in the kitchen, you mean. Now what was the question?”
“Did either Maggie or Kate leave the kitchen while you were there?” I yelled.
“I can hear you,” he said soothingly. After scratching his head, he added, “Not Maggie, but Kate did. The young one, you know. She hadda set the dining-room table, and was gone about fifteen minutes, I guess.”
“Did you leave yourself?”
“Me? No. Why should I set the dining-room table?” “I don’t know,” I said frustratedly. “Just thought I‘d ask.”
By the time I finally got to the drawing-room, where I had sent Ann, Abigail Stoltz, and Edmund to wait for me, Arnold and Dr. Lawson had completed dressing and were also there. As I entered the room from the hall, I caught a glimpse of Kate through the archway into the dining-room. She was doing something at the table, and getting a sudden inspiration, I crossed to the archway to observe what it was. She was laying silver on the bare tablecloth, and apparently she had just started. “Kate,” I said.
She turned quickly. “Yes, sir?”
“Come in here a minute. I want you in on this.”
Kate approached diffidently, and I could not help marking the change in her manner since our first contact. Her subdued air of resentment had been replaced by one almost of shyness, as though she were prepared to run at the drop of a hat.
I turned to Mrs. Lawson. “Did you phone the police?” I asked.
“Yes,”
she said. She was pale, but composed.
“If nobody objects, I’d like to ask a few questions before the police arrive,” I said.
I looked around, but nobody seemed to have any objections.
“Understand, I have no official authority, and the only reason I’m interested is that Grace Lawson is paying me as a bodyguard and I don’t like people feeding my clients knockout drops.”
There still were no objections.
“For the benefit of those who don’t know what’s going on,” I said, “someone slipped a drug in Grace’s Coke, then tossed her in the swimming-pool unconscious. Assuming it was the same person who made the previous murder attempts, the field is now considerably narrowed. We can eliminate Arnold Tate because I was with him at the time Grace was attacked, and we can eliminate Doctor Lawson because he was the one who saved her life. Jonathan Mannering and Gerald Cushing are out because they weren’t here—“
“Pardon me,” Ann interrupted softly. “Jonathan stopped in before lunch to have me sign a paper. He stayed for lunch and left only about ten minutes before Douglas’s yell brought us all out of the house.”
After I thought this over, I said, “So we can eliminate Gerald Cushing, anyway. That leaves Mrs. Lawson, Miss Stoltz, and Mr. Mannering among the relative-and-friend group. Of the five servants, Maggie has an alibi for the time, which leaves four. If any of you can verify where you were just before Doctor Lawson yelled, please speak up.”
No one said anything. “Mrs. Lawson?” I asked.
“I was in my room, but I’m afraid no one saw me after Jonathan left.” “Miss Stoltz?”
“Lying down,” she said apologetically. “Edmund?”
“Part time in here, sir. Part time in th’ kitchen. But I wouldn’t throw Miss Grace in no pool.” “Kate?”
For some reason her face had turned pale. “In the dining-room,” she said almost inaudibly. “Doing what?”
“I was supposed to be setting the table,” she said, her eyes on my shoes.
“But it still isn’t set,” I told her gently. “What were you doing?”
Gallows in My Garden Page 11
