Kitabı oku: «The Room with the Tassels», sayfa 10

Then she became silent, and would vouchsafe no answer to Wise’s questions or make any remarks of her own.

During the interview between the detective and Elijah Stebbins, she said almost nothing, her big eyes staring at the owner of Black Aspens, until the old man writhed in discomfort.

“How did you get in?” she shot at him, as he frankly admitted his harmless tricks to give his tenants their desired interest in his house.

“I was in, miss,” Stebbins said, nervously twisting his fingers; “I staid there the first night, and ’twas then I moved the old candlestick.”

“I don’t mean that,” and Zizi’s eyes seemed to bore through to his very brain, “I mean the night you played ghost.”

“Why, – I – that is, – they left a window open – ”

“They did not!” Zizi shot at him, “and you know it! How did you get in?”

But old Stebbins persisted in his story of entrance by an overlooked window.

“There’s heaps of windows in that house,” he declared. “Land, I could get in any time I wanted to.”

“Sure you could,” retorted Zizi, “but not through a window!”

“How, then?” said Stebbins.

“That’s what I asked you. I know.”

“You know! How do you know?”

“Your mama told my mama and my mama told me!” Zizi’s mocking laughter so incensed the old man that he shook with fury.

“You don’t know!” he cried, “’cause there’s nothin’ to know! Land! All them folks up there has hunted the place for secret entrances, and I ruther think you have too,” and he nodded at Wise.

“I have,” said Wise, frankly, “and I’ve discovered none as yet. But, listen here, friend Stebbins, if there is one, I will find it, – and that’s all there is about that!”

Zizi said nothing, having returned to her taciturn rôle, but the glance she threw at Stebbins, he said afterward, made his blood run cold.

“She’s a witch-cat!” he declared to his cronies, when telling the tale, “she ain’t all human, – or I’m a sinner!”

On their way to see Dan Peterson, Wise inquired concerning Zizi’s knowledge of a secret way to get into the house.

“A small bluff,” she said, carelessly. “I dunno how he got in, I’m sure. But I don’t believe those people left a window conveniently open, unless – they did it on purpose. Who does the locking up, do you know?”

“Mr. Landon, I believe.”

“Quite so! It’s a pity, isn’t it Pen, how everything appears to wind around back to that nice Mr. Landon!”

“Well, what now?”

“Well, if he and Stebbins were in cahoots – ”

“Hold up, Zizi, don’t run away with yourself! You’re a day ahead of the fair. Now, are you going to talk, in here at Peterson’s, or sit like a bump on a log, – smiling at grief?”

“I dunno; which would you?”

“Talk,” said Wise, succinctly, and Zizi talked.

Indeed, she carried on the main part of the conversation, which was exactly what Wise had meant for her to do.

She charmed Peterson with her bright, alert air and her pleasant, quick-witted way of putting things.

Together they went over the known details, and then she cleverly drew from Peterson his deductions and decisions.

At first, inclined to resent the advent of this all-wise detective, he now began to think that if they could work together, he would shine by reflected glory, that is, if the new chap succeeded in solving the mystery, which to him was inexplicable.

“I can’t suspect the Thorpes or Mr. Stebbins,” Peterson finally declared: “I did think I could, but though Eli did cut up some tricks, they were harmless and merely in fun. And, too, he has absolute alibis for all the spook appearances after a certain date. And that’s the date when that Miss Carnforth saw a ghost. As near as I can make out, that ghost was Stebbins himself, but no spooks after that was Stebbins’ doings. Now, I give you that straight and simple, Mr. Wise, but it took me a long time to ferret it out. I suspected it, but I’ve had hard work to get Stebbins to admit his tricks, and also to check up his alibis after that particular night.”

“These perfectly attested alibis are sometimes manufactured very carefully,” said Zizi, fixing her black eyes on Peterson.

“Yes, they are. That’s why I checked up Eli’s so carefully. But they’re all true. I’ve got an exact list of the spook performances from the people at the house. I got the data from different ones, at different times, so’s to be sure they were all there. Then, I looked up Stebbins’ whereabouts on each occasion, and as I tell you, after the night he owns up to playing ghost, he never did it again.”

“Then did he arrange for the Thorpes or one of the waiting-maids to do it?” queried Zizi.

“That I can’t say. I think he must have done so, but I can’t find a scrap of proof, nor is there any motive. Stebbins is a good old sort and he honestly wanted to give his tenants the ha’nts, as he calls ’em, that they wanted. But why, on this good green earth, he should want to kill two of them is unanswerable. No, take it from me, Eli Stebbins is no murderer. I’ve looked up his record and his life story, and there’s no indication that he knew any of these people before they came up here, so he couldn’t have had any old grudge or family feud or anything of that sort. Stebbins isn’t the criminal, no sir-ee!”

“I never thought he was,” said Wise, quietly. “You’ve done good work Mr. Peterson, and you’ve saved me a heap of trouble in getting these facts so undeniably established. I thank you, and I shall be glad of your coöperation in my further work.”

“Good for you, I’ll be right down glad to work with you. And this young lady, Mr. Wise, is she one of us?”

“She is us,” returned Wise, simply. “Don’t bother about her, Mr. Peterson, she’s the sort that looks after herself. Report to me, please, if you discover anything new.”

CHAPTER XV
Tracy’s Story

“Now I wouldn’t say,” Wise observed, “that there is no such thing as occult phenomena – ”

“What do you mean by phenomena?” interrupted the Professor. “Not one person in ten uses that word correctly.”

“I’m that single and unique one, old top,” Wise assured him, “for my exact meaning, see Webster; but I was going to say, even granting the possibility of the two deaths being due to supernatural causes, I’m not going to accept that solution of the mystery until I’ve exhausted all other available means of finding a flesh and blood murderer, which same I strongly expect to find.”

“He’ll do it,” said Zizi, addressing the others, while her black eyes looked at Wise as at an inanimate object. “He’s an effective detective, first, last and all the time. And I’m the little cog that makes the wheels go round. So, I think, Tecky-teck, that I’ll carry out a plan I’ve just thought of. I’ll move from the pretty little bedroom I now occupy, and sleep in the Room with the Tassels.”

“Oh, don’t!” cried Norma. “Something might happen to you!”

“That’s what I’m flattering myself. And it’s nice of you, Miss Cameron, to speak out like that.” Zizi’s eyes flashed a quizzical glance at Eve, who was nodding satisfaction at the proposed plan.

Eve coloured and dropped her eyes, and Zizi went on. “You see, people, Mr. Wise can’t size up these ghosts of yours unless he sees them, – and for me to see them is the same thing. So I’m going to take the haunted room for my own and if the Shawled Woman appears, I’ll pin a tag on her shawl.”

Norma shuddered. “Don’t talk like that,” she begged. “You don’t know what risk you run. Milly, don’t let the child sleep there.”

But all objections were overruled, and Zizi quietly transferred her few simple belongings to the Room with the Tassels.

At breakfast, the morning after her first night in the haunted room, she declared she had never slept better or more soundly, that there had been no disturbance of any kind, and that she adored the room.

“You saw and heard nothing?” queried Eve, looking at her intently.

“Nixy,” and the pert little face was all smiles. “But the game isn’t out till it’s played out, you know.”

“I fail to grasp the cryptic meaning of that remark,” said Eve, with an insolent stare at Zizi.

“Same here!” and the child’s eerie laugh rang out. “But when I don’t know exactly what to say, I sing out some old saw like that.”

Zizi’s laugh was infectious, and Milly giggled in sympathy, while the others smiled too.

“The experience was mine, last night,” said Mr. Tracy, in his deep, resonant voice. “I suppose I’d better tell of it.”

“By all means,” said Penny Wise, as the clergyman hesitated.

“A phantom appeared to me,” Tracy began, “just as the hall clock struck four. I wasn’t asleep, of that I’m sure, but I was suddenly aware of a presence in the room. A tall, misty shape seemed to take form as I looked, and it had the appearance of a woman with a shawl over her head. She drew near to me, and I could see her face, and it was that of a skull. I was stunned, rather than frightened, and when I tried to call out, I could make no sound. The thing faded away as gradually as it had appeared, and after a time I regained a normal state of nerves. I don’t want to be an alarmist, or frighten anybody, but I – well, I confess I didn’t enjoy the experience, and I take occasion to say now, that I shall leave here to-day. I’m going to Boston, and will return at any time, if for any reason my presence is desired or my affidavit wanted as a witness. You all know what I’ve thought about this whole matter. While not a spiritualist, I’ve preserved an open mind toward any revelations we may have had, and I’m always ready to be convinced. And I may say the sight I saw last night has gone far to convince me. But I don’t care to see it again,” Tracy shuddered, “and at risk of being thought cowardly, I’ve determined to go away. I had intended to go shortly, anyway, and I prefer to go to-day.”

“I don’t blame you, old chap,” said Braye, heartily; “there’s no reason why you should jeopardize your nervous system by exposing it to further shocks. Let Mr. Wise take down the details of your story, keep in touch with us as to your whereabouts and where we can communicate with you, and go ahead. I don’t blame you one bit. In fact, if any one else wants to leave, no objections will be made. How about you, Professor?”

“I want to stay, please. I’m terribly interested in the matter, and I think Mr. Wise is making progress, and will make more, rapidly. I’m anxious to stay.”

“I’m game, too,” said Landon. “In fact I think we all want to see it through, except Mr. Tracy, and he is not so closely associated with the case as the rest of us.”

So Tracy went, about noon of that day, and left an address that he said would always reach him, wherever he might be temporarily.

Milly and Norma regretted his going, for they had come to like the grave, kindly man, but Eve seemed not to care; and the men were all so interested in the work of Penny Wise, that they only gave a hearty good-bye and Godspeed to the departing cleric.

“Queer, that spook should appear to him,” said Wise, after Mr. Tracy had gone.

“He told me some time ago,” said Norma, reminiscently, “that he often heard strange sounds at four in the morning. He said they were like faint moans and rustlings and sometimes a soft step along the halls.”

“Did he ever see anything before?” asked Zizi.

“I don’t think so. He was not very communicative about it, anyway. I think he was nervous on the subject.”

“I know he was,” Eve spoke scornfully. “He was afraid, I’m positive. No one ought to have joined this party who was afraid.”

“We only asked him to fill in, you know,” said Milly, rather apologizing for the minister’s timidity. “And goodness knows, I’m afraid! Or I should be, if Wynne weren’t always with me. If that thing appeared to me, – well!”

Milly could find no words to express her horror, and Landon looked at her anxiously.

“It won’t,” said Zizi, reassuringly, “it won’t, Mrs. Landon.”

“How do you know?” said Eve, a bit abruptly.

“Your mama told my mama and my mama told me,” returned Zizi, who could put such graphic impudence into the silly phrase, that it was impossible not to be amused at it. “Oh, do you do that, too?” she added, as Eve bit her lip in annoyance. “So do I! It’s such a hard habit to break, ain’t it? But you oughtn’t to, it scars your lips. Now, Penny Wise, if you’ll go for a walk and a talk with your little otherwise, she’ll tell you sumpum that you ought to know.”

“Look out, Ziz,” Wise said to her, as they walked off by themselves, and followed the path by the lake, “you mustn’t be too saucy to Miss Carnforth, or there’ll be trouble.”

“Have to, honey. I’ve got to get her real mad at me, to find out her secret. She’s no criminal, as I’ve told you, but she knows who is.”

“Do you?”

“Not yet, but soon. Now, listen, while I expound a few. Friend Spook did appear to me last night.”

“Really?”

“Sure as shootin’! I thought it over, and decided I’d better not admit it to the gaping crowd, or we’ll never find out who does the stunt.”

“But, really, Zizi?”

“Yes, really, Pen. It was about two o’clock, – not four. A tall shape, draped in white, breezed in and toddled around trying to attract my attention. I lay there and looked sort of glassy-eyed, as if I was awake, but kinda hypnotized, you know. Well, I kept up that attitude, and the thing came nearer and leaned over me, and sure enough it had a skull for a face; but, land, Penny, it was a papier maché skull, – a mask, you know. ’Twould be fine in the movies, I must put Manager Reeves up to that dodge!”

“Go on, Ziz.”

“Well, the thing, – the person, I mean, for it was a real, live person all right, – sashayed around a bit, then gave a hollow groan, – I guess that’s what they call hollow, – and slid out. That’s all.”

“You’re a corker, Zizi! Why didn’t you yell?”

“I wanted to see the game. Then, when the pleasant-faced visitor left, I knew it was because I was supposed to have been sufficiently impressed. I thought it over, and I decided that at breakfast, I’d say I hadn’t seen anything, and see who looked self-conscious. And, by jiminy! nobody did! If any one around that table was my visiting spook, he or she carried it off something marvellous! Not one of ’em flickered an eyelash when I said I’d had a sweet, sound sleep all night. I can’t see how any one could be so self-controlled. Now, Penny, could it have been anybody who wasn’t at the breakfast table?”

“Meaning Stebbins or the Thorpes?”

“Oh, no! none of them! But how about some outsider, hired, you know, by somebody in the house.”

“How’d he get in?”

“There’s a secret way into this house. You needn’t tell me there isn’t. Just ‘cause you haven’t stumbled over it yet! Also, who’s doing the hiring?”

“You said everything came around toward Landon.”

“There’s motive there. You see, after Mr. Braye, Mr. Landon inherits all the Bruce fortune, and that’s millions.”

“What’s the matter with Braye being the murderer? He inherits first.”

“That’s just it. If Mr. Braye wanted to kill his relatives to get the fortune, he wouldn’t do it up here, where he’s so liable to be suspected. He’d invent some subtler way, or some less suspicious scheme. But Mr. Landon could do it up here, and feel sure the suspicion would fall on Mr. Braye. Then, you see, Mr. Braye gets the money, and later on, Mr. Landon puts him out, too. In some awfully clever way, that can’t be traced to him, d’y’ see? And, too, Mr. Braye has declared he’ll give all the money, if necessary, to discovering the criminal, if there is one. And he said, he’d give what was left to build a hospital. No, he doesn’t want the money that came to him in such an awful way, leastwise, not if it throws suspicion on him. He’s going to be cleared, or he’s not going to use the money for himself. Miss Carnforth told me all that, I’ve talked a lot with her.”

“You’ve talked with all of them, haven’t you?”

“Yes, indeed. I’ve babbled on, and most often they tell me a lot that they don’t realize. Mrs. Landon, now, she’s struggling hard not to suspect her own husband, but Miss Carnforth has said a few things that scare Mrs. Landon ’most to death. Oh, Penny, it’s a fearful case! We must fix it up, we must!”

“We will, Zizi. There’s so much evidence not to be denied, that we must ferret out what it really means. I’m getting a glimmer, but your help is invaluable. That was a stroke of genius for you not to tell of your ghost! Weren’t you frightened?”

“Not a bit. All I wanted to do, was to find out who it was. But I didn’t dare grab at it, for I knew it would get away. I hope it will come again. I’ll try to make it speak, and maybe I’ll get a line on the voice.”

“Was it a man or a woman?”

“I couldn’t tell. The draperies were long and full, and the skull-mask covered the face.”

“Didn’t you see the hand?”

“It was lost in the draped shawl. But I’m sure I’ll have another visit, and then I’ll get more information. You think I did well, oh, Wise Guy?”

“I do indeed!” and the approving smile that was Zizi’s most welcome reward lighted up the detective’s face.

Zizi pursued her plan of talking to the various people separately. She gleaned much this way and with her powers of lightning calculation, she put two and two together with astounding results.

She even lured the old Professor into a tête-à-tête conversation.

“No, I don’t believe those deaths were supernatural, now,” he said, thoughtfully; “I did, but it’s too incredible. However, it’s no more unbelievable than that they could have been accomplished by human power.”

“They were,” and Zizi’s black head nodded affirmation.

“How, then?”

“By a diabolically clever genius. Tell me again, Professor, just how those people were sitting? Were they together?”

“Mr. Bruce and Vernie? No. There was the width of the room between them.”

“Were you near either?”

“Yes, sitting next to Mr. Bruce. We were talking absorbedly.”

“Had he tasted his tea?”

“I think he had taken one sip, – not more, I’m sure.”

“There was poison in that tea, Professor.”

“There must have been, but how could there be?”

“Who gave it to him?”

“Let me see; Miss Carnforth presided, as Mrs. Landon was not at home. Miss Carnforth made the tea, and poured the cups, and Vernie and Mr. Tracy, – yes, and Mr. Landon were passing the things around. It was all most informal, we never have the servants in at tea-time. I couldn’t really say just who did give Mr. Bruce his cup. Vernie gave me mine, I think.”

“Well, the poison was put in Mr. Bruce’s cup, after Miss Carnforth fixed it for him.”

“Bless my soul, do you think so? That lets Braye out, then, for he wasn’t there.”

“You don’t suspect Mr. Braye, do you?”

“No; of course not; but I don’t really suspect anybody. But Mr. Braye is the heir, you know, and so may be said to have motive.”

“That is true of Mr. Landon, – in a way.”

“I can’t suspect either of those two, – it’s impossible.”

“Go on, Professor, tell me about the little girl’s death.”

“You’ve heard it before.”

“I know, but every little helps.”

“She was across the room. I was looking at Bruce, of course, when I heard an exclamation – ”

“From whom?”

“I don’t know; Miss Carnforth, I think. Any way, she and Tracy were bending over Vernie, – they had laid her on a couch, – and in a moment, they said she was dead. At the same time, Mr. Bruce breathed his last. It was all so fearful, so terrible, we were stunned. At least, I was, and one by one we pulled ourselves together, trying to realize what had happened.”

“All right, I know the rest. You’ve helped me a little – ”

“Do you suspect anybody? Does Mr. Wise? Tell me, child. I can doubtless be of help, if I know what to do.”

“No, Professor, you can’t help. It’s very awful, but it will soon be clear to all. Heaven help that poor Miss Carnforth.”

“Nonsense! Eve didn’t do it! Of that I’m certain.”

“So am I. Of course, Miss Carnforth didn’t do it. The tea was all right when she fixed Mr. Bruce’s cup.”

“Then who tampered with it? Not Vernie!”

But Zizi had run away. She had a way of making sudden exits and entrances, and one never knew where she was or when she would appear.

That night Zizi declared that she hoped the ghost would visit her. She said this openly, as the whole crowd were preparing to go to their rooms for the night.

“Perhaps it will,” said Wise, looking at her, thoughtfully. “If it called on Mr. Tracy last night, it may be here again to-night, and you may be favoured. Are you not afraid?”

“Not of the ghost,” said Zizi, “but I am afraid that some of you people may play a trick just to scare me. Will you double up, so I can feel sure there’s nothing of that sort?”

“I’ll take Mr. Tracy’s room,” said Mr. Wise, “then I can keep my eye on Mr. Braye and Professor Hardwick. Though I’ve no mental image of either of them trailing round in sheets!”

“I should say not!” and Braye shuddered. “No, Miss Zizi, you’ve nothing to fear from us.”

“Nor us,” Norma assured her. “I was going to sleep in the room with Miss Carnforth, anyway, and that will preclude either of us impersonating a phantom.”

“What an awful idea,” and Eve glowered at Zizi. “You don’t really think any of us would stoop to such a despicable thing, do you?”

“You never can tell,” said Zizi, nonchalantly. “Mrs. Landon, you won’t let your husband leave your room, will you?”

“No,” said Milly, not at all resenting the question which Zizi put to her in a gentle, pleading tone, very different from that she had used to the others.

And so, the inmates of the house being accounted for, and the doors and windows looked after with extra care and precaution, the household settled itself to quietness, and the dark hours passed, ticked off and struck by the great deep-toned clock in the hall.

It was between two and three, when Zizi, watching, perceived her door slowly and silently swing open.

Determined to learn all possible as to who the intruder could be, the girl lay motionless, but breathing deeply as if asleep.

Her eyes, almost closed, yet took in every movement of her silent visitor.

It was no white-robed ghost, but a tall figure, clad in a long black cloak, and wearing a black mask.

With a swift stride, that betokened a man, the figure approached the bed, having first softly closed the door that led to the hall.

Watching covertly for the next development, Zizi was all unprepared for what really happened.

The man, with a sudden, swift gesture, took the girl’s chin in one strong hand, and opened her mouth, while with the other he thrust in a thick soft cloth, saturated with chloroform.

Not enough to make her lose her senses entirely, it partially stupefied her, and the choking cloth prevented all speech.

Whipping off the long dark cloak he wore, the man flung it round Zizi, as he lifted the slender form from the bed.

Vainly trying to emit a shriek, or utter a groan, Zizi fell, half-conscious, back in the arms that supported her.

After an unknown interval, a draught of cool air on her face brought her back to a dim consciousness, and she realized she was out of doors. A struggle of her arms and legs resulted in a firmer grasp of the strong arms that carried her, and she quit moving, to think. She had been kidnapped, taken from her bed, and had been carried out of doors, but she had no knowledge of who her captor was nor by what means they had left the house. Her brain was furiously wide awake, but she made no move, lest more chloroform be administered, and she lose her regained consciousness.

On the shore of the black lake the man stopped, and set her on her feet. Her mouth, still filled with the soft cloth, was strained and painful, but the first attempt to raise her hand resulted in its being clutched by the strong hand of the man who swayed her destiny.

So slender and light was she, that he handled her as one might a child, and in his strong grasp she was as powerless as an infant.

Working quickly and deftly, he tied a strong rope round her ankles and to it attached what was only too evidently a bag of stones or bricks.

Then, without a word, he flung her into the deep, dark waters of the lake, and with one backward glance, he walked away.