Room Beneath the Stairs

by Wilde, Jennifer;

  “Everything’s topsy-turvy,” she said. “The police were here half the morning, asking questions. Cook was terribly upset. She packed her bags. Stella did, too. They quit, both of ’em. Burke took them down to the ferry right after lunch. Cook said I’d come too if I knew what was good for me, but I couldn’t. I may be high-strung—this’s upset me something awful—but I couldn’t go, not when I was needed so desperately. Mister Evan is depending on me to keep a level head. He said so himself.”

  She preened a little with self-importance, mentally seeing her brief walk-on expanding into a meatier role: the reliable family servant, on hand with aid and advice in time of crisis.

  “Mrs. Porter—she’s in a dreadful state. Looks like death, she does, face white as a ghost, eyes starin’ out of her head. Jumpy. She almost went to pieces when the police were here. Mister Evan made her go back to bed, made her take her pills. He’s sending her to London to stay with one of her aunts, plans to take her over to the train station later on this afternoon. He’s afraid she’ll crack up if she stays here a day longer. I heard him say so to Burke.”

  “So Helen’s leaving,” I said quietly.

  “Good thing, too. Mister Evan has enough on his hands without her carrying on like she’s been. Wouldn’t stay in bed. Her pills won’t work. She keeps crying and crying—you’d think she found the body! I’ve been helping her pack. No disrespect, I’m sure, but I do think this murder’s unhinged her mind, poor thing.”

  “How is Carlotta taking it?”

  “Strangest thing—she didn’t blink an eyelash. Acted like she knew it was going to happen all the time. She just went right on with her sewing, told me to have Burke buy her another package of pins when he went down for the mail. I never cease to wonder—”

  “And Grey?” I said.

  “He’s in his room,” she said. “Sleeping. Worried out of his mind, he was, till the doctor said you’d be all right. He and Burke were gone all night, searching the woods with the others. Didn’t get in till sometime after eleven. I didn’t see him myself, but he must’ve been beat. Mister Evan said he’s not to be disturbed—Mister Grey, I mean.”

  “Mister Evan seems to be in complete command.”

  “Oh, he is. Wonderfully calm and stern.”

  “Have the police any idea who—”

  “They haven’t found anything,” she said in an awed voice. “Not a clue. So peculiar. Just like that little girl. Ned told me all about that case. He came up to see me this morning, Ned, swaggered into the kitchen bold as brass, wanted me to leave at once, but I told him, ‘I’ve got my duties,’ I said. ‘I’m needed, particularly since Cook and Stella are deserting.’ He was worried the maniac would come after me! Gave me a proper scare, but I’m nothing if not loyal.” Judy’s role was growing meatier and meatier. “Anyway, Mister Evan said the murderer is probably long gone. Probably took a boat to the mainland soon as he finished—”

  “And what did the police say?” I asked, certain she would know.

  “They agreed,” Judy replied. “No one in his right mind would stay on the island after committing such a hideous crime. Of course, no one in his right mind would have done it in the first place. The chief constable figures he was a stranger, met Valerie at the pub and made an assignation with her, then, when she came to meet him in the woods—” She shuddered again, with full dramatic effect. “Fancy your being in the woods at that very moment. Did—did you hear her scream?” she asked eagerly.

  I nodded, looking away.

  “That’s what Mister Evan told ’em. You were taking a walk, he said, and you heard her scream. That’s how you discovered the body. They were eager to talk to you, but he put his foot down, Mister Evan did, said you were in no condition to talk to anyone. They were most understanding. The young sergeant, he was particularly nice. I gave him a cup of coffee in the kitchen. His name’s Jack. He has the bluest eyes. They’re still combing the woods this afternoon. The village is in a regular panic. Ned said there was a stampede on the hardware shop, people buying locks—

  “You were ever so brave to go into those caves. Me, I would ’ve been scared to death. When he brought you in last night, I like to ’ve fainted dead away, and when I found out what happened—well, me so high-strung and all, you can imagine.…”

  Judy was inexhaustible. Her chatter had been very informative, but I realized this could go on all day unless I put a stop to it. Interrupting her highly detailed monologue, I told her I was hungry and asked if there was anything to eat. Stressing the fact that she would have to make it herself what with Cook’s treachery, she finally bustled out to see about getting my lunch. I stood at the windows, watching the sky grow darker. After a few minutes I turned away, squared my shoulders and started downstairs.

  The halls were dim, the whitewashed walls spread with soft, violet-gray shadows, so unlike the day before, when they had been gilded with sunlight. There was a chill in the air, and it was really too cool for my sleeveless dress, but I didn’t want to go back to my room for a sweater. I went down the stairs and stood for a moment in the main hall, poised, amazed at my own calm. There would be a delayed reaction, I knew. The trembling would come, but now it was as though I were immune to any feeling whatsoever. The events of yesterday seemed to have happened to someone else, a long time ago. I could view them with an almost frightening objectivity.

  Judy brought coffee into the breakfast nook and, a few minutes later, bread, butter, sliced ham, and eggs scrambled much too hard. I lingered over the meal, pouring a third cup of coffee, watching heavy clouds form on the horizon. The weather suited me. I couldn’t have borne dazzling sunlight and warbling birds—not today. Finishing the coffee, I wandered aimlessly into the sitting room, and it was there that Evan found me.

  “What the hell are you doing out of bed?” he demanded.

  “Nothing in particular.”

  “Go back to your room at once!”

  I shook my head slowly, staring at him with a level gaze.

  “If there’s one thing I don’t need, it’s another hysterical woman on my hands.”

  “Do I seem hysterical?”

  He frowned, studying me carefully, as surprised at my poise as Judy had been. He wore slender black trousers and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his elbows. The skin seemed to be stretched tightly over his face, and there were deep shadows beneath his eyes. He looked worn and harried, near the point of collapse; but there was a stubborn set to his mouth, a look of determination in his dark brown eyes. He must have been under incredible strain these past eighteen hours, but he would continue to bear up, give orders, make decisions, control everything with an iron hand. Some men have that ability. Evan would have made a magnificent commander during time of war, I thought idly, watching his frown deepen.

  “You’re too calm,” he said.

  “Am I?”

  “I wonder why.”

  “I wonder myself. Would you prefer me to babble and cry?”

  “Don’t push me, Carolyn. Just don’t push me.”

  “I have no intention of pushing you. I suppose I should thank you for what you did last night.”

  “You remember?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “How much?”

  “I remember your bringing me to the house. I remember Grey coming to my room, and the doctor. Everything else is hazy.”

  I didn’t mention those scraps of conversation I had overheard, nor did I mention that moment of uncharacteristic tenderness when he had touched my cheek so lightly. Evan looked relieved. He stepped over to the window and peered across the drive to the bowling green. The evergreens were swaying in the wind. I had the peculiar sensation that the Carolyn standing so calmly in the sitting room really wasn’t me at all. She was a stranger, and I observed her with detachment, wondering why she felt nothing but this chilling calm.

  Turning to face me, he was a dark silhouette against the window, his face in shadow, his shirt a white blur. “There are several question
s,” he said.

  “I assumed there would be.”

  “What were you doing in the woods?”

  “I went to meet Valerie,” I said simply.

  “Oh?”

  “Surely Burke told you I went to see her at the pub. She started to tell me something, something very important, just as he arrived. She was terrified. She said she would meet me in the woods around six thirty. She came, and she was murdered.”

  “Before you talked to her again,” he said.

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re a fool, Carolyn.”

  “Not as big a fool as the rest of you seem to take me for.”

  “You paid no attention to what I said, did you? I told you to keep out of the woods. I told you to keep in sight of the house. But no, you had to play private detective. You had to pry and meddle. Do you know how I felt when I found you there in the woods? Have you any idea? I thought you had been attacked. I thought—”

  “But I wasn’t,” I said.

  “God! When I think of it. Not only did you wander off into the woods, you went charging into the caves as well, like an absolute idiot! What if he had still been there?”

  “I think he was.”

  “Jesus!”

  “I heard something move in the corner of the grotto. There was a nest of shadows, but I—I think I saw a dark form crouching there. Who was it, Evan?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think you’re lying.”

  “Listen, Carolyn—”

  “This rather tears the police’s theory, doesn’t it? They believe Valerie met a stranger at the pub and agreed to meet him in the woods. They think he murdered her and then took a boat to the mainland—”

  “How did you—”

  “Judy told me. At least she has nothing to hide, no reason to be anything but natural and aboveboard.”

  “Damn that girl!”

  “The police are going to be extremely interested in what I have to say to them.”

  “You’re not going to talk to the police,” he said.

  “No?”

  Evan moved slowly across the room toward me, his hands still thrust into his pockets. His shoulders were hunched forward, and his eyes were dark and flat. He stopped a few steps from me, close enough to reach out and grab my arms. I met his stare calmly, not at all perturbed by his menacing posture. After what I had gone through, nothing could ever frighten me again, I thought.

  “They’ll find out I went to the pub yesterday.”

  “They already know. I told them it was just a coincidence. You’d been shopping and stepped inside for a soft drink. No connection whatsoever with your discovering her body; just a coincidence.”

  “They’ll talk to the other people who were at the pub yesterday. There were men playing darts. A stevedore came in for a beer. They’ll remember seeing Valerie talking to me, remember she seemed upset, and they’ll tell the police.”

  Evan smiled a tight smile. “Pub-goers are remarkably unobservant. The police have already talked to everyone who was there yesterday during Valerie’s working hours. Nothing was said about her being upset. The police were interested in a stranger, some man who might have made an assignation with her. It so happens some chap from the mainland did go to the pub yesterday afternoon, just after lunch. They’re trying to locate him now.”

  “And when they find him?”

  “It’ll take time, a lot of time. No one knew who he was. There were several different descriptions given. I need a day, just one more day, and then.…” He left the sentence dangling, suddenly realizing that he had said too much.

  “And then?” I inquired.

  Evan didn’t reply. He merely stared at me.

  “I wonder what you were doing in the woods last night, Evan. I wonder how you happened to find me when you did.”

  “I was out looking for you. You weren’t in your room. No one could find you. I thought perhaps you were with Carlotta. She said she saw you wandering into the woods.”

  “So you came after me.”

  “I came after you, yes. I heard you running.”

  “Someone was in the woods earlier on. I was sitting in a small clearing. The shrubbery behind me rustled. I had the sensation that someone was watching me. There were footsteps, moving away.”

  “And you think it was me?”

  “Was it, Evan?”

  He looked very, very tired. A dark lock of hair had fallen over his brow like a comma. He brushed it away and glanced around the room as though he had no idea what he was doing there.

  “I didn’t murder Valerie,” he said wearily.

  “But you know who did.”

  “Carolyn, please try to understand. In twenty-four hours this will all be over. You’ll have all the answers then. I promise that. Until then, I want you to—”

  “I want the answers now.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t intend to wait—”

  Evan suddenly reached out and seized my shoulders, just as he had done to Valerie the morning before when they were standing on the drive. His fingers squeezed tightly. I winced, trying to pull away. His face close to mine, he spoke slowly, harshly, underlining each word.

  “Do not ask any more questions.”

  “You can’t intimidate me. I’ll go to—”

  “You won’t go to the police. Because of Grey. He’s involved in this—deeply, deeply involved. You’ll keep your mouth shut. Do you understand that?”

  “I—”

  “Do you understand?”

  “Y—yes,” I whispered.

  He released me. He sighed heavily. His expression no longer fierce, he looked at me with something like sympathy, and then he turned and walked out of the room. The night before, in my dream, there had been a hideous picture. I had stared at it with sheer, unadulterated horror. I had screamed, and the picture had dissolved, but not before I had had a look at it. What was it I had seen? I knew. In the back of my mind the memory was there, but it wouldn’t materialize. I tried to remember. Desperately, I tried to remember.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I had been standing on the veranda for some time. I had come outside a few minutes after Evan left the sitting room. The dream still evaded me. Further efforts to try to recall it would only make it submerge deeper. I had to keep my mind clear, my composure steady. I stood watching the evergreens swaying violently in the wind. The sky was more purple than gray now. The baskets of greenery hanging from the veranda rafters swung to and fro, chains creaking loudly, and above the roar of the wind I could hear the waves lashing at the rocks below in savage fury.

  It was very cold, but I hardly noticed. Strands of hair blew over my face. I thought about my conversation with Evan. He needed one more day, he said, just one more day, and then it would all be over. How did he know? How could he be so certain? He expected me to wait, patient and obedient, until it suited him to answer my questions. He didn’t know me very well, I thought. I had no intention of waiting passively for him to provide the answers. I had been through too much. I was too close to discovering the answers on my own.

  He was taking Helen away. He was getting her off the island, putting her on a train to London because she was hysterical, because he was afraid she would talk. Calmly, I wondered what he intended to do to ensure my own silence. He couldn’t be sure I would keep quiet, even to protect Grey. Did he intend to lock me away? Did he intend to have Burke stand guard over me? Or did he have something more permanent in mind?

  There was no melodrama involved in that question, no hysteria. I was assessing the situation with cold logic. Valerie had been murdered, brutally murdered, because she had discovered the family secret. I knew too much already. The possibility of my being murdered was quite real. Carlotta had known that. She had given me a revolver. I wondered why I felt no fear. By all rights I should be cringing with terror, far more upset than Helen, but I had never been calmer in my life. I suppose it was shock. It would wear off eventually. Eventually
all the expected reactions would come rushing over me, rendering me helpless, but at present it was as though I were enclosed in an invisible shell that kept all emotions out.

  If Evan wouldn’t answer my questions, perhaps Grey would. He was upstairs in his room, asleep. I would go to him, wake him up, try to reason with him. I would make him see that it was madness to withhold information from the police. I must tell them all I knew, and so must he. Evan was leaving soon to take Helen to the station. Burke would be driving them down to the ferry. While they were gone, we would phone the police, have them come up to the house. Grey was completely under the thumb of his family, true, but he loved me. Perhaps his love for me was strong enough to make a man of him, make him realize that this was the only possible course of action.

  I went back into the main hall, then walked upstairs, turning left at the landing and moving on up to the wing where Grey’s room was located. Through the windows at the end of the hall I saw a square of dark purple, the sky. The walls were gray, festooned with shadows. It was four thirty, but it might have been early evening.

  “Mrs. Brandon.”

  I stopped dead still, startled. Burke materialized out of the shadows. He had been leaning against the wall. His black uniform blended in, making him almost invisible.

  “Where are you going?” he asked in a low voice.

  “I’m going to my husband’s room.” My own voice was like ice.

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” he said.

  “You’d rather I didn’t?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You can go to hell.”

  He stepped in front of me, blocking my way. His large, solid body seemed to fill the hallway. I couldn’t possibly get around him. In the dim light his face looked more ravaged than ever, older, deeply lined with fatigue. The purple bruise beneath his right cheekbone was lighter now. His mouth was as hard as ever, but the black eyes looked somehow different. They were, I realized with surprise, filled with sadness. I could hardly believe it. Burke had never been a human being to me. He had been a stereotype, a dark, sinister figure out of the melodrama, his presence in the house inexplicable. He didn’t look menacing now. He looked weary, defeated. I wasn’t prepared for this. He was a man of flesh and blood, human, with human emotions, not an impassive automaton.