Lonely Road Murder

by Fearn, John Russell

  I think that moment nearly turned my brain. I stared at Elly’s motherly form, and for the first time I saw the strength in it. The sturdy legs planted so firmly. The thick body, powerful arms and shoulders. I raised my eyes to her face. It was evil. A cloak seemed to have dropped from it, and with a shudder I hid my face in my hands.

  She laughed then. I pray God that I may never hear such laughter again. From a deep throaty chuckle it rose to maniacal shrillness, and when she stopped the echo of it hung in the air about us.

  Leaning back against the door she watched me, warily and yet confidently. At last she spoke, and even her voice was changed.

  “So you’re still playing detectives, eh my dear? But this time you’ve really found something, haven’t you? How did you get in here?”

  She rapped the last question out, and I found myself answering like a guilty child, caught in some misdemeanour.

  “Mary’s cousin came to take away her things She asked for some carriers or boxes. I remembered that you always kept them and let myself in with the key you gave me a few months ago.”

  She brooded over that for a bit, and said thoughtfully, “I forgot about the key.”

  “Elly,” I began desperately. She smiled, and keeping her eyes on me, half turned and locked the door, slipping the key into her pocket. “It’s no good doing that,” I said with a bravery I was far from feeling. “I’ll have to tell the police.”

  At the word her face changed. An ugly expression showed in her eyes and coming swiftly forward she hit me across the mouth, knocking me back onto the bed.

  “The police!” she spat. “Those idiots! You’ll tell them nothing. Nothing, do you hear?”

  I lay looking up at her in terror, as she towered above me. Her ring had cut my cheek, and I could feel the warm blood trickling down my face. Suddenly she began to chuckle and rock backwards and forwards.

  “John wanted to tell the police. I told him everything before I turned on the gas. He couldn’t move then, the drug had got him, but he could still hear.”

  I moved a little on the bed and she menaced me with her hands so that I lay still, hardly daring to breathe.

  “No my dear,” she muttered softly. “Oh, no. You’ve meddled once too often. There’s no getting away with it this time. There’ll be another body to puzzle the police.” Terror gave me sudden strength and I sat up, defying her.

  “Elly, you’re sick. Only let me get you to a doctor. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  She chuckled again. “Think I’m mad do you? Well, you’re wrong my little Rosemary. I’m not mad. Who’d suspect old Elly? What possible motive could she have? Why, everyone knows what good friends we are.”

  “Elly,” I gasped. “If I found out, someone else will, it’s — ”

  She cut me short abruptly, “You’re the only one who knows. So you must go. I’ve always hated you anyway, with your silly talk.” She primmed up her mouth in mockery “Dear Elly. What should I do without you, you’re like a mother to me! God how I’ve laughed.”

  I held my hands tightly together to stop them shaking. I knew I would need every ounce of strength and guile I possessed if I was ever to get out of here alive. My only hope was Bob. He had promised to look in tonight. It was about half past six now. If I could only keep her talking until I heard him knock on my door.

  My lips were dry and I moistened them. Elly noticed the action and laughed, gloatingly.

  “That’s what Mary did. The little fool! So frightened she was.”

  “Why did you kill her?”

  “I didn’t intend to, you know. I just wanted to talk to her. Hear about the quarrel. After you’d gone out I went down stairs with some cakes. She let me in and we talked for a bit. I could see she was restless so I asked her — I’d heard John slam the door a while back. She flared up and told me to mind my own business, to get out of her flat, called me an old busybody. I decided to kill her then — just like that! She must have sensed it, because she suddenly stopped shouting and looked frightened.”

  Elly paused and I saw that she was reliving the scene, word for word.

  “I caught hold of her long yellow hair, and pulled her right close to my face. I told her how I’d always hated her stuck up ways and silly smile. Oh she was frightened! She looked ugly, like a rabbit with her hair pulled back. Her mouth was open and her neck was there close to my hands. I squeezed and squeezed and all the time I watched her face. She died looking into my eyes.”

  I felt I must faint. The awful horror of that description, her eager excited voice as she dwelt on the details, all combined, and I felt the room begin to spin. Somehow I controlled the nausea that gripped me and listened as she continued.

  “I let her drop to the floor. I wasn’t sorry or frightened, I was glad — glad. I thought I must laugh aloud when they took him to the station. And you! — ” She laughed shrilly. “Sleeping in dear Elly’s bed because you were afraid to sleep alone!”

  I thought of that night when I had nestled up to Elly’s warm back and felt so safe and secure. If I had known then! But I must keep her talking.

  “What about John?” I asked in a voice that for all my resolve wavered slightly. “You didn’t hate him.”

  “I hated them both!” she hissed fiercely. “He made it so simple for me. The police already suspected him, and when you told me over the phone that he was coming back, I knew my opportunity was at hand. I didn’t realize they’d be able to tell about the drug. Not that it made any difference, just mystified them more. I waited for him to go into the flat then I made a cup of coffee and added the laudanum.”

  She smiled to herself and I glanced furtively at the clock. A quarter to seven, would Bob never come?

  “He was so pleased. I kept my face away from him while he drank it, in case. For the first time I knew my power. Then I thought what I must do next. Wipe away any fingerprints, take back the cakes. I looked all round the room and then I thought it would look better if something was stolen. So I went in to the bedroom and picked out the jewellery. That’s when I saw the housecoat, so soft and pretty. I took that too. I carried her body into the bedroom and left the light and radio on. Then I went back to my flat. Everyone was out and nobody saw me in the fog as I left afterwards to meet my cousin for supper. It was all so easy.”

  “The door,” I began, and she took the point up quickly.

  “I thought it would be best if you found her. I knew what you’d do, you see! After I heard Bob come in I slipped downstairs and opened it. I’d taken the key away already. I was at the top of the stairs when you screamed, but stood back to let Bob and the others reach you first.

  “It was so exciting,” she went on. “Like acting in a play. Only I was directing as well as acting. That night when the police came to my room, and then John’s, I thought he should see my eyes and suspect. When he had finished he sat down and said he was feeling tired. I persuaded him to go into the bedroom and rest in the armchair. The poor fool did just what I suggested. Once he was well under the drug’s hold I told him! Yes, I told him everything. I’ll never forget his face. He struggled to reach me, but he was too weak. I watched him for a bit, then I turned on the gas and left him.”

  Her cold brutality was worse even than the gloating enjoyment she had evinced when describing Mary’s death. I stared at her, fascinated in spite of myself. She took her outdoor clothes and reaching down, snatched the pink housecoat that I still clutched in my trembling hands. Ignoring me she struggled into it, went over to the dressing table and selecting the glittering pearl earrings, screwed them on carefully.

  Slowly she turned around, arms extended to show her glory. An insane desire to laugh ran through me as her squat powerful figure revolved in a grotesque display, but I saw my cue and grabbed it.

  “Earrings suit you Elly.”

  The praise had an amazing effect. Her hardness left her and she smiled shyly, like a girl. Fingering the dangling jewels, she murmured to herself.

  “I always wanted
pretty things, but we were too poor. Once my Aunt gave me an old row of beads. Blue they were. The clasp was broken but I re-threaded them and tied them on with ribbon.”

  “You never had any others?” I asked playing desperately for time. She shook her head and the harsh look came back.

  “They put me out to service, and from then on it was uniform and black stockings. No pretty things for Elly — she was too old, too plain. Keep them for the youngsters! Flashy blondes like Mary Francis. No brains but pretty faces.” She paused for breath, her eyes glaring.

  “Elly,” I said hastily. “Try the jade bracelet on.” She turned back to the dressing table obediently, and I felt a little safer.

  I must get to my feet while she was occupied. Stealthily I stood up and took a hesitant careful step. It was a mistake.

  And that moment she swung round, a brush gripped m her hand. I held my breath and stayed where I was.

  “I know what you’re trying to do,” she hissed. “You think you’ll get away while I’m not looking. But you won’t my girl. You know my secret. You’ve got to die like the others.”

  We faced each other across that little space. The blood was drumming in my ears, my body was tense, waiting. Suddenly with no warning she sprang at, me flinging the brush aside, her big hands groping for my throat. Her weight carried me back against the bed, and we fell on it struggling desperately.

  Somehow I writhed away and ran to the door, beating on it and screaming in wild terror. In a second she was there. Her hand gripped my throat and I heard her animal grunt of satisfaction. I tore at that grinning, sweating face. Choking and sobbing, my breath coming in painful harsh jerks, I fought for life. But she was too strong for me.

  The room began to go black. There was a grinding roar in my ears and just as I felt consciousness slipping from me, the pressure by a miracle ceased.

  I slumped to the floor. Far away voices were raised, someone was banging on the door. I heard it all in a daze, but I could do nothing to help myself. My strength was exhausted. Elly stood over me panting and glaring at the door. Muttering unintelligibly she ran to the fireplace and dragging the heavy old-fashioned fire irons from their box, braced herself defiantly.

  The next minute, the panels splintered like matchwood round the lock, the door caved inwards, and Bob, Inspector Nevil and two or three policemen hurled themselves into the room. Elly backed at the sudden onslaught, mouthing silently. Bob picked me up, heedless of her and the others and I saw as in a dream that he was shaking and sweating.

  “Thank God you’re alive,” he gasped. “I thought we were too late.”

  Inspector Nevil’s voice cut in. It was a hard merciless voice. “Ellen Moreland,” he began, “I arrest — ” But we heard no more. A wild scream of rage rent the air. The men in the doorway ducked instinctively as Elly, her face contorted, flung the heavy fire irons at them, and ran to the window.

  “Stop her!” yelled the Inspector. “She’s going to jump! Stop her!”

  But they were too late. There was a crash of breaking glass, a shrill cackle and she was gone.

  Bob had hidden my face against his coat, and mercifully I did not see that last desperate leap. To hear it was enough. Everything, the fear and horror of the scene, combined in that awful minute. I screamed once and then knew no more.

  *

  When I opened my eyes I was lying on my bed, back in my own flat. A strange man bent over me and touched my head with gentle hands. He smiled kindly.

  “That’s better Miss Lennox. You had us worried for a bit. Now don’t try to sit up, just lay there and rest.”

  “I’m all right,” I started, “a bit shaken that’s all.”

  “Of course,” he soothed. “Drink this first and then you can talk.” He held a glass of milky fluid to my lips. It had a bitter taste, and my throat was stiff and painful but I drank it obediently, then lay back against the pillows.

  From the street below, a buzz of voices rose through the window. Two policemen were bustling about the room, and there at the foot of my bed stood Bob and Inspector Nevil. For a moment I gazed at them blankly and then tears, that I was unable to control, flooded my cheeks.

  Bob was at my side in a second. “Easy now darling,” he said softly. “It’s all over. No one can hurt you.” He patted my eyes with his big handkerchief and went on talking calmly and steadying me until I was able to sit up and produce a faint watery smile.

  Inspector Nevil came over beaming and rubbing his hands. “As Mr. McDonnell says it’s all over, my dear. You mustn’t upset yourself any more.” The wail of a departing ambulance siren suddenly split the air and another policeman appeared in the doorway to murmur something to the Inspector.

  “Yes, very well. Get that crowd cleared away down there and then get back to the station. I’ll see the rest of you there later. Oh, Johnson, I shall need you. Got your notes? Right!”

  The two policemen and the doctor went, leaving Bob, Inspector Nevil, the dour Johnson and myself. Johnson shut the door, pulled out his notebook and gazed at me expectantly. The Inspector sat down and offered his cigarettes round. He lit mine and I drew on it deeply. I was feeling steadier every minute. Steady enough to put the question I had been afraid to ask as yet.

  “Is she — is she dead, Bob?”

  He nodded grimly but said nothing as I took a deep shuddering breath of relief.

  Inspector Nevil cleared his throat and gave me a kindly smile. “Now Miss Lennox, I’m afraid I’m going to start asking questions again, but if you don’t feel up to it, say so, and we’ll leave it till later.” He looked enquiringly at me, his head cocked on one side. My little birdman, I thought affectionately, replying that I’d rather get it over and be done.

  He nodded his satisfaction.

  As it happened there were very few questions. He let me tell my story without interruption and when I reached the part about banging on the door and hearing their voices, he patted my shoulder kindly. Choking back my rising hysteria I glanced at Bob, he was listening intently and as I stopped speaking, said in a low voice, “She was mad of course. Raving mad!”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” the Inspector returned thoughtfully. “She was a bitterly jealous woman: That jealousy warped her brain and made her secretly hate anything young or pretty but she controlled it. Perhaps at the last she was mad, but the underlying evil in her nature drove her to commit those two murders, and attempted a third. I am convinced she was as sane as you or I at the time.”

  I put a question that had been puzzling me. “How was it that you all arrived together like that? Did somebody hear me and call the police?”

  Bob answered, smiling a little. “Well it was all your fault Rosie.” He laughed at my surprised face. “This morning you worried me stiff about those damned buttons. I could see you were at the end of your tether, and certainly it did look suspicions as far as I was concerned. Anyway I puzzled all day over it, trying to think how the devil my buttons could be in the Francis’ flat, until I was nearly off my head. I decided the only thing to do was to get in touch with the Inspector here.”

  Inspector Nevil took up the tale. “It was the first wise move anyone made in this case and I welcomed Mr. McDonnell’s co-operation. We thrashed it out bit by bit. Going over every little fact until emerging quite clear from all our discussions was an astonishing theory.

  “Everything came back to Ellen Moreland. She had what everybody else lacked. The opportunity. Each time the lock had been intact on the door of the Francis’ flat, proving that both victims had opened it willingly to let in someone they knew and trusted. Each time Ellen Moreland had known they were alone, and had as we realized at last, an unsubstantiated alibi for the actual time of death. The cinema — shopping — her mention of people met during these expeditions had misled us, she could quite easily have been in the flats, and who was more trusted? That open door now. That always worried me. Why should Miss Lennox find it open within a few minutes of Mr. McDonnell and Ellen Moreland insisting it was shut?
Someone had obviously slipped down and opened it between those times. Again, she had the opportunity.”

  “But how did you work all that out from Bob’s two buttons?” I asked, mystified.

  “Quite easily. You see they weren’t his!”

  “Not his?” I cried. “Why, they matched perfectly.”

  “No, they were not a perfect match. Very near, and to one in your excited condition, the same, but nevertheless not the right buttons.”

  “But he had two missing from his raincoat and I naturally thought — ”

  “You thought what you were intended to think. The previous day you had told Ellen Moreland everything about your search. You gave her an idea. Mr. McDonnell’s raincoat was in her possession. She ripped off the two buttons, guessing that the difference would be negligible, and discussed the coat with you. Quite naturally to save her trouble you offered to return it. She probably waited, then crept upstairs to examine it after you were in bed. She completed the good work this morning by hinting that the police suspected Mr. McDonnell of being involved and then left the next move to you.”

  “And I made it!” I sighed ruefully.

  “It was the most fortunate thing you could have done, as things turned out. Once Mr. McDonnell and I had established the fact that the coat had been in Ellen Moreland’s possession since the murders were committed and that the buttons did not belong, everything began to fall into place. Naturally we had no proof. I doubt very much if we could have discountenanced her on a flimsy piece of guesswork like that. Still, the implications were too serious to ignore, and in my own mind I was convinced. There and then we began to feel a great anxiety for you Miss Lennox.”

  He gave me a quick friendly glance and went on, “My intentions were to persuade you to leave home for a while. You were in grave danger I felt, but as we turned in at the door we heard you scream — ” He shook his head thoughtfully.

  “That was a very bad moment.”

  Bob lit another cigarette and said feelingly, “Thank God we were in time. Any delay, a moment’s hesitation, and it would have been too late.”