The Curved Blades

by Carolyn Wells

  III THE TRAGEDY

  The house faced the east, and, built on an English model, was far widerthan deep. A broad hall ran through the centre from front to back, and oneither side there were successive rooms whose windows looked out onequally beautiful scenes, both front and back. On the right of the hall,as one entered, was the long living room, and beyond it, the library andmusic room. The other side of the hall was a reception room, opening intothe sun parlor, and on to the conservatory, and back of these, the diningroom and smaller breakfast room.

  Breakfast was served at nine, and the members of the family were usuallyall present. Miss Carrington, herself, made a point of being on timepartly from habit, and also because it gave her opportunity to chidethose who were late.

  When she was not in her place, on the morning after the stormy bridgegame, Pauline expressed surprise, and Haviland echoed her words.

  But Anita said scornfully, "She went to bed in an awful tantrum andprobably didn't sleep well."

  Miss Frayne was looking her prettiest, and her roseleaf face with itsfluffy golden halo, was like a Greuze picture. She wore a frivolouslittle house gown of blue crepe de chine that just matched herforget-me-not eyes. Not especially appropriate garb for a secretary, butMiss Carrington preferred her household to be well-dressed, and reallycommanded pretty tints and fabrics for the two girls. Pauline was inwhite serge, of rather severe cut, but which suited her as no frills andflounces could. Her black hair was smoothly parted and coiled low overher ears, and her clear ivory-tinted skin was flushed faintly pink fromthe glow of the big, crackling wood fire.

  "It's most unusual," went on Pauline, after a few moments more hadpassed, and the Lady Lucy had not appeared. "I'm going up to see if sheis ill,--or----"

  "Or merely in a tantrum extraordinary!" said Anita, her blue eyes full oflaughing disrespect for her employer.

  "'Nita," said Haviland, as Pauline disappeared, "hold your breakfastnapkin up in front of your face, quick!"

  "Why?" said the girl, wonderingly, as she did his bidding.

  "Because, if you hadn't, I should have flown at you and kissed you! And Imustn't now, for Haskins is approaching with muffins."

  Down came the shielding napkin and only the arrival of the muffin-ladenHaskins saved the lovely laughing face from Haviland's impetuous caress.

  The old butler fussed about, and several minutes passed, when Paulinecalled from above stairs, "Gray! Come here, at once!"

  "Desperate case!" and Haviland rose, and unhurriedly left the room,pinching Anita's little ear as he passed her.

  Another moment and Miss Frayne heard an exclamation from Haviland thatmade her rise from the table and go flying upstairs herself.

  The door of Miss Lucy's boudoir was open, and entering, she saw Paulineand Haviland with horror-stricken faces, gazing at a terrible sight.

  Miss Lucy Carrington, seated before her dressing-table, her face whiteand ghastly, her large eyes staring wide--staring horribly,--but, withoutdoubt, unseeing. Nor was this all of the strangeness of the sight. Shewas robed in an embroidered Oriental-looking gown, and wore many jewels.Her red-dyed hair, dressed elaborately, as she had worn it the nightbefore, was still crowned with the enormous comb of carvedtortoise-shell, but the comb was broken to bits. One portion, stillstanding upright, rose above the disordered coiffure, but the rest, inbroken scraps, lay scattered over the puffs of hair,--over the whitehands clasped in her lap,--and on the floor at her feet.

  "What does it mean?" whispered Anita, shuddering, "is she--is she dead?"

  "Yes," answered Haviland, briefly. He stood, hands in pockets, gazing atthe startling figure.

  "Who?--What?----" Anita's eyes riveted themselves on something else.

  Around the neck of Miss Lucy was,--yes, it _was_--a snake!

  With a low scream, Anita flung herself into Haviland's arms, but he puther gently away from him.

  Aghast at this repulse, Anita put her hand across her eyes and turned toleave the room.

  "Mind where you go, 'Nita!" called out Haviland, and the girl stoppedjust in time to save herself from stepping into a mass of _debris_.

  "Why!" she cried, "why, it's Miss Lucy's tray!"

  It was. The silver tray that had held the breakfast tea was on the floor,and near it a jumbled heap of silver and broken china that had once beena costly Sevres set. Dainty white serviettes were stained with thespilled tea and a huge wet spot was near the overturned silver teapot.

  Hastily Anita ran from the room, but she sank down on a couch in the halljust outside the door, utterly unable to go further.

  Fascinated by the beady eyes of the green snake, Pauline stared at it,with clenched hands. Haviland stepped nearer and lightly touched it.

  "Is it--is it alive?" gasped Pauline.

  "It's paper," replied Haviland quietly. "A paper snake, a toy,--youknow."

  "But who put it there? Aunt Lucy is deathly afraid of snakes! Did frightkill her? Gray, is she--murdered?"

  "Yes, Pauline, she has been killed. But could it be--fright? Impossible!"

  "Not for her! You don't know her horror of snakes. Why, going through theJapanese department of a shop, I've seen her turn white and fairly flyfrom the counter where those paper things were displayed."

  "But what else killed her? There is no wound, no shot, no blood."

  "Get the doctor, Gray! Don't wait a minute. Telephone at once."

  "He can do nothing, Pauline. She is dead." Haviland spoke like a man in adaze.

  "But no matter, we must call him. Shall I?"

  "No, I will."

  "Go into her bedroom,--use that telephone by her bedside."

  Obediently, Haviland went on to the adjoining room, the soft rugs givingforth no sound of his footfalls.

  The door was ajar, and as he opened it, he called, "Come here, Pauline;look, the night lights are burning, and the bed untouched. She hasn'tbeen to bed at all."

  "Of course she hasn't. She has her hair as it was last evening. But hercomb is broken."

  "Broken! It's smashed! It's in tiny bits! She has been hit on thehead,--don't touch her, Pauline! You mustn't! I'll call Dr. Stanton. Yougo out of the room. Go and find Anita."

  But Pauline staid. Turning her back to the still figure in the chair, shegazed curiously at the upset tray on the floor. She stooped, whenHaviland's voice came sharply from the next room. "Don't touch a thing,Pauline!" he cried, as he held his hand over the transmitter.

  She looked up, and then as she saw him turn back to speak into theinstrument, she stooped swiftly and picking up something from the floorshe hurried from the room.

  She found Anita on the couch in the hall, and speaking somewhat sharply,Pauline said, "Where's Estelle?"

  "Mercy! I don't know!" and Anita's blue eyes stared coldly. "How should Iknow anything about Estelle?"

  "But she must have brought that tray an hour ago. Did she upset it, orwho?"

  "Pauline, why do you act as if I knew anything about this matter. Is itbecause _you_ do?"

  The blue eyes, cold like steel, and the dark ones, flashing fire fromtheir shadows, looked steadily at each other.

  Gray Haviland came hurriedly out to the hall.

  "The doctor will be here at once," he said; "and he will call thecoroner."

  "Coroner!" screamed Anita; and ran away to her own room.

  "Let her alone," said Pauline, contemptuously; "but Gray, we must nerveourselves up to this thing. Don't you think we ought to--to put away thejewels? It's wrong to let any one come into a room where a fortune injewels is displayed like that."

  "But Doctor Stanton said to touch nothing,--nothing at all. You see,Pauline, in a murder case,----"

  "Oh, I know; 'nothing disturbed till the Coroner comes,' and all that.But this is different, Gray. Doctor Stanton didn't know there are twohundred thousand dollars' worth of jewelry on that--that--on her."

  "How do you know so exactly?"

  "I'm not exact, but she has tol
d me times enough that the rope of pearlscost one hundred thousand, and that corsage ornament she is wearing andher rings and ear-rings are easily worth the same sum. I tell you therewill be policemen here, and it isn't right to throw temptation in theirway."

  "Besides," and Anita's voice spoke again as she reappeared in thedoorway, "besides, Pauline, they are all yours now, and you should becareful of them!"

  The tone more than the words conveyed a veiled insolence, and Paulineaccepted it for such. With a sudden determined movement, she went swiftlyto her aunt's side, and unfastened the long rope of pearls, the wonderfulglittering sunburst, and a large diamond and emerald crescent that heldtogether the glistening silk folds. The rings and ear-rings she could notbring herself to touch.

  "It is only _right_," she contended, as if trying to persuade herself,"these are too valuable to risk; no one could fail to be tempted bythem."

  "Why don't you finish your task?" said Anita, smiling unpleasantly, "whyleave so much?"

  "No one would attempt to take the rings or ear-rings," said Pauline,steadily, "and that scarab bracelet is not of great value."

  "I thought that was a most valuable antique that her nephew sent her."

  "She thought so, too," said Pauline, carelessly, "but Carr told me it wasan imitation. Not one expert in a hundred can tell the difference,anyway."

  As Pauline placed the mass of gems in the safe, the doctor came. "Whatdoes it mean?" cried the bewildered man, coming into the room. "MissCarrington----"

  Words failed him as he saw the astounding sight. For surely, no one hadever before seen a murdered woman, sitting before her dressing-table,staring but smiling, and garbed as for a fancy-dress ball!

  Doctor Stanton touched the icy-cold hand, felt for the silent heart, andthen turned his attention to the disheveled hair and broken comb.

  "Fractured skull," he said, as his skilled fingers thridded the auburntresses. "Killed by a sudden, swift blow on the head with a heavy,blunt,--no, with a soft weapon; a black-jack or sandbag."

  "A burglar!" exclaimed Pauline.

  "Of course; who else would deal such a blow? It was powerful,--dealt by astrong arm--it has driven bits of this broken shell stuff into the brain.But it was the force of the concussion that killed her. Here is a deepdent,--and yet.--Tell me the circumstances. Why is she rigged out likethis?"

  "I've no idea," answered Pauline, taking the initiative. "When I left herlast night, she had on an evening gown. But this negligee is not unusual;it is one of her favorites. Though why she has on that spangled scarf, Ican't imagine."

  "She seems to have been posing before the mirror, rather than engaged inmaking a toilette." Dr. Stanton was a pompous middle-aged man of fussymanner. He did not again touch the body, but he stepped about, noting thestrange conditions and commenting on them. "This paper snake,--tightround her neck! What does that mean?"

  "What _can_ it mean?" returned Pauline. "She had an intense hatred,--even_fear_ of snakes; I've never seen it before. Could it have been placedthere to frighten her to death?"

  "No; she didn't die of fright. See, her expression is placid,--evensmiling. But the shattered comb and dented skull have but oneexplanation,--a stunning blow. Did she have on the comb last evening?"

  "Yes; it is a favorite one with her. An heirloom, from a Colonialancestor. It encircled the entire back of her head, when whole."

  "At what time was she killed?" asked Gray Haviland. He had stood, tillnow, a silent listener to the conversation between Pauline and theDoctor.

  "Oh, many hours ago," returned Stanton; "six or eight at least. Evidentlyshe was preparing for bed, and trying the effect of some new finery."

  "Those things are not new," put in Anita; "she has had them all a longtime. But she must have been admiring herself, for when we found her shehad on all her finest jewels."

  "What?" cried Dr. Stanton; "where are they?"

  "I took most of them off," replied Pauline, quietly, "and put them in thesafe. If the police people must come, I am not willing to have a fortunein jewels here to tempt their cupidity. And I have a right. It is nosecret that my cousin Carrington and I are her heirs. But that snakeperplexes me beyond all else. If you knew her aversion to them,--evenpictured ones----"

  "I do know it," returned the doctor; "I have often heard her say so. Ah,"as he stepped carefully about, "she _was_ adorning herself; see, here ispowder scattered on the floor. She used this powder-puff, shaking it overthe rug and floor."

  "I saw that the first thing!" cried Pauline, excitedly; "and there wasa----" she stopped, looking in amazement at the white dust on the floor.For where she had seen a distinct footprint, as of a stockinged foot,there was now merely a blurred whirl! Some one had obliterated thatfootprint!

  "A what?" asked the doctor, sharply.

  "Nothing. A--a lot of powder spilled,--I was going to say."

  Gray Haviland looked at her. "Tell the truth, Pauline," he said.

  "I have," she replied, with a calm quite equalling his own. "Must we havethe Coroner, Dr. Stanton?"

  "Yes, yes, of course; I will telephone at once. There will be police anddetectives,--oh, it is a terrible case! Nothing must be touched, nothing!If there is _any_ clue to this mystery, do not let it be disturbed."

  "But you say it was without doubt a burglar who did it," said Anita, herwide eyes gleaming blue.

  "It must have been."

  "Then why were none of her jewels stolen?"

  "Bless my soul!" and Dr. Stanton looked as if a bomb had exploded at hisfeet. "Sure enough! It cannot have been a burglar! Who, then? What othermotive than robbery----"

  "It _was_ a burglar," declared Pauline, "and he was--he was frightenedaway by--by a noise--or something----"

  "Not likely!" said Anita, "with all those gems in easy reach!"

  "The Coroner and the police must get here at once!" and the doctor wipedhis perspiring brow. "Never have I seen such an inexplicable state ofaffairs! Was--was Miss Carrington indisposed at all last evening? Did shesay or do anything unusual?"

  "Not at all," began Pauline, but Anita interrupted; "Yes, she did! Shesaid, 'You little know what's going to happen to me! To-morrow you maysing another tune!'"

  "What did she mean by that?"

  "I've no idea. Could it mean suicide?"

  "No!" thundered the doctor; "her skull was fractured by some one bent onwilful murder! As there is no robbery, we must look for a deeper motiveand a cleverer villain than any professional burglar!"