The Circular Staircase

by Mary Roberts Rinehart

  CHAPTER XVII

  A HINT OF SCANDAL

  In giving the gist of what happened at the inquest, I have only oneexcuse--to recall to the reader the events of the night of ArnoldArmstrong's murder. Many things had occurred which were not broughtout at the inquest and some things were told there that were new to me.Altogether, it was a gloomy affair, and the six men in the corner, whoconstituted the coroner's jury, were evidently the merest puppets inthe hands of that all-powerful gentleman, the coroner.

  Gertrude and I sat well back, with our veils down. There were a numberof people I knew: Barbara Fitzhugh, in extravagant mourning--she alwayswent into black on the slightest provocation, because it wasbecoming--and Mr. Jarvis, the man who had come over from the GreenwoodClub the night of the murder. Mr. Harton was there, too, lookingimpatient as the inquest dragged, but alive to every particle ofevidence. From a corner Mr. Jamieson was watching the proceedingsintently.

  Doctor Stewart was called first. His evidence was told briefly, andamounted to this: on the Sunday morning previous, at a quarter beforefive, he had been called to the telephone. The message was from a Mr.Jarvis, who asked him to come at once to Sunnyside, as there had beenan accident there, and Mr. Arnold Armstrong had been shot. He haddressed hastily, gathered up some instruments, and driven to Sunnyside.

  He was met by Mr. Jarvis, who took him at once to the east wing. There,just as he had fallen, was the body of Arnold Armstrong. There was noneed of the instruments: the man was dead. In answer to the coroner'squestion--no, the body had not been moved, save to turn it over. Itlay at the foot of the circular staircase. Yes, he believed death hadbeen instantaneous. The body was still somewhat warm and rigor mortishad not set in. It occurred late in cases of sudden death. No, hebelieved the probability of suicide might be eliminated; the woundscould have been self-inflicted, but with difficulty, and there had beenno weapon found.

  The doctor's examination was over, but he hesitated and cleared histhroat.

  "Mr. Coroner," he said, "at the risk of taking up valuable time, Iwould like to speak of an incident that may or may not throw some lighton this matter."

  The audience was alert at once.

  "Kindly proceed, Doctor," the coroner said.

  "My home is in Englewood, two miles from Casanova," the doctor began."In the absence of Doctor Walker, a number of Casanova people have beenconsulting me. A month ago--five weeks, to be exact--a woman whom Ihad never seen came to my office. She was in deep mourning and kepther veil down, and she brought for examination a child, a boy of six.The little fellow was ill; it looked like typhoid, and the mother wasfrantic. She wanted a permit to admit the youngster to the Children'sHospital in town here, where I am a member of the staff, and I gave herone. The incident would have escaped me, but for a curious thing. Twodays before Mr. Armstrong was shot, I was sent for to go to the CountryClub: some one had been struck with a golf-ball that had gone wild. Itwas late when I left--I was on foot, and about a mile from the club, onthe Claysburg road, I met two people. They were disputing violently,and I had no difficulty in recognizing Mr. Armstrong. The woman,beyond doubt, was the one who had consulted me about the child."

  At this hint of scandal, Mrs. Ogden Fitzhugh sat up very straight.Jamieson was looking slightly skeptical, and the coroner made a note.

  "The Children's Hospital, you say, Doctor?" he asked.

  "Yes. But the child, who was entered as Lucien Wallace, was taken awayby his mother two weeks ago. I have tried to trace them and failed."

  All at once I remembered the telegram sent to Louise by some one signedF. L. W.--presumably Doctor Walker. Could this veiled woman be theNina Carrington of the message? But it was only idle speculation. Ihad no way of finding out, and the inquest was proceeding.

  The report of the coroner's physician came next. The post-mortemexamination showed that the bullet had entered the chest in the fourthleft intercostal space and had taken an oblique course downward andbackward, piercing both the heart and lungs. The left lung wascollapsed, and the exit point of the ball had been found in the musclesof the back to the left of the spinal column. It was improbable thatsuch a wound had been self-inflicted, and its oblique downward coursepointed to the fact that the shot had been fired from above. In otherwords, as the murdered man had been found dead at the foot of astaircase, it was probable that the shot had been fired by some onehigher up on the stairs. There were no marks of powder. The bullet, athirty-eight caliber, had been found in the dead man's clothing, andwas shown to the jury.

  Mr. Jarvis was called next, but his testimony amounted to little.

  He had been summoned by telephone to Sunnyside, had come over at oncewith the steward and Mr. Winthrop, at present out of town. They hadbeen admitted by the housekeeper, and had found the body lying at thefoot of the staircase. He had made a search for a weapon, but therewas none around. The outer entry door in the east wing had beenunfastened and was open about an inch.

  I had been growing more and more nervous. When the coroner called Mr.John Bailey, the room was filled with suppressed excitement. Mr.Jamieson went forward and spoke a few words to the coroner, who nodded.Then Halsey was called.

  "Mr. Innes," the coroner said, "will you tell under what circumstancesyou saw Mr. Arnold Armstrong the night he died?"

  "I saw him first at the Country Club," Halsey said quietly. He wasrather pale, but very composed. "I stopped there with my automobilefor gasolene. Mr. Armstrong had been playing cards. When I saw himthere, he was coming out of the card-room, talking to Mr. John Bailey."

  "The nature of the discussion--was it amicable?"

  Halsey hesitated.

  "They were having a dispute," he said. "I asked Mr. Bailey to leavethe club with me and come to Sunnyside over Sunday."

  "Isn't it a fact, Mr. Innes, that you took Mr. Bailey away from theclub-house because you were afraid there would be blows?"

  "The situation was unpleasant," Halsey said evasively.

  "At that time had you any suspicion that the Traders' Bank had beenwrecked?"

  "No."

  "What occurred next?"

  "Mr. Bailey and I talked in the billiard-room until two-thirty."

  "And Mr. Arnold Armstrong came there, while you were talking?"

  "Yes. He came about half-past two. He rapped at the east door, and Iadmitted him."

  The silence in the room was intense. Mr. Jamieson's eyes never leftHalsey's face.

  "Will you tell us the nature of his errand?"

  "He brought a telegram that had come to the club for Mr. Bailey."

  "He was sober?"

  "Perfectly, at that time. Not earlier."

  "Was not his apparent friendliness a change from his former attitude?"

  "Yes. I did not understand it."

  "How long did he stay?"

  "About five minutes. Then he left, by the east entrance."

  "What occurred then?"

  "We talked for a few minutes, discussing a plan Mr. Bailey had in mind.Then I went to the stables, where I kept my car, and got it out."

  "Leaving Mr. Bailey alone in the billiard-room?"

  Halsey hesitated.

  "My sister was there?"

  Mrs. Ogden Fitzhugh had the courage to turn and eye Gertrude throughher lorgnon.

  "And then?"

  "I took the car along the lower road, not to disturb the household.Mr. Bailey came down across the lawn, through the hedge, and got intothe car on the road."

  "Then you know nothing of Mr. Armstrong's movements after he left thehouse?"

  "Nothing. I read of his death Monday evening for the first time."

  "Mr. Bailey did not see him on his way across the lawn?"

  "I think not. If he had seen him he would have spoken of it."

  "Thank you. That is all. Miss Gertrude Innes."

  Gertrude's replies were fully as concise as Halsey's. Mrs. Fitzhughsubjected her to a close inspection, commencing with her hat and endingwith her shoes
. I flatter myself she found nothing wrong with eitherher gown or her manner, but poor Gertrude's testimony was the reverseof comforting. She had been summoned, she said, by her brother, afterMr. Armstrong had gone.

  She had waited in the billiard-room with Mr. Bailey, until theautomobile had been ready. Then she had locked the door at the foot ofthe staircase, and, taking a lamp, had accompanied Mr. Bailey to themain entrance of the house, and had watched him cross the lawn.Instead of going at once to her room, she had gone back to thebilliard-room for something which had been left there. The card-roomand billiard-room were in darkness. She had groped around, found thearticle she was looking for, and was on the point of returning to herroom, when she had heard some one fumbling at the lock at the eastouter door. She had thought it was probably her brother, and had beenabout to go to the door, when she heard it open. Almost immediatelythere was a shot, and she had run panic-stricken through thedrawing-room and had roused the house.

  "You heard no other sound?" the coroner asked. "There was no one withMr. Armstrong when he entered?"

  "It was perfectly dark. There were no voices and I heard nothing.There was just the opening of the door, the shot, and the sound ofsomebody falling."

  "Then, while you went through the drawing-room and up-stairs to alarmthe household, the criminal, whoever it was, could have escaped by theeast door?"

  "Yes."

  "Thank you. That will do."

  I flatter myself that the coroner got little enough out of me. I sawMr. Jamieson smiling to himself, and the coroner gave me up, after atime. I admitted I had found the body, said I had not known who it wasuntil Mr. Jarvis told me, and ended by looking up at Barbara Fitzhughand saying that in renting the house I had not expected to be involvedin any family scandal. At which she turned purple.

  The verdict was that Arnold Armstrong had met his death at the hands ofa person or persons unknown, and we all prepared to leave. BarbaraFitzhugh flounced out without waiting to speak to me, but Mr. Hartoncame up, as I knew he would.

  "You have decided to give up the house, I hope, Miss Innes," he said."Mrs. Armstrong has wired me again."

  "I am not going to give it up," I maintained, "until I understand somethings that are puzzling me. The day that the murderer is discovered,I will leave."

  "Then, judging by what I have heard, you will be back in the city verysoon," he said. And I knew that he suspected the discredited cashierof the Traders' Bank.

  Mr. Jamieson came up to me as I was about to leave the coroner's office.

  "How is your patient?" he asked with his odd little smile.

  "I have no patient," I replied, startled.

  "I will put it in a different way, then. How is Miss Armstrong?"

  "She--she is doing very well," I stammered.

  "Good," cheerfully. "And our ghost? Is it laid?"

  "Mr. Jamieson," I said suddenly, "I wish you would do one thing: I wishyou would come to Sunnyside and spend a few days there. The ghost isnot laid. I want you to spend one night at least watching the circularstaircase. The murder of Arnold Armstrong was a beginning, not an end."

  He looked serious.

  "Perhaps I can do it," he said. "I have been doing something else,but--well, I will come out to-night."

  We were very silent during the trip back to Sunnyside. I watchedGertrude closely and somewhat sadly. To me there was one glaring flawin her story, and it seemed to stand out for every one to see. ArnoldArmstrong had had no key, and yet she said she had locked the eastdoor. He must have been admitted from within the house; over and overI repeated it to myself.

  That night, as gently as I could, I told Louise the story of herstepbrother's death. She sat in her big, pillow-filled chair, andheard me through without interruption. It was clear that she wasshocked beyond words: if I had hoped to learn anything from herexpression, I had failed. She was as much in the dark as we were.