Murder of a Lady (24 page)

Chapter XXXVI

The Mask

Dr. Hailey put his hand on Eoghan's shoulder.

“Have pity,” he said gently.

“Pity?”

The young man spoke the word mechanically as if its meaning had escaped him. He continued to gaze at the door through which his father had just passed.

“For a mind in torment.”

Eoghan turned suddenly and faced the doctor.

“You call that a mind in torment?” he asked bitterly. He strode to the fireplace and stood looking down into the empty grate. Dr. Hailey followed him.

“Men whose faces have been dreadfully disfigured,” he said, “are condemned to hide them behind a mask. It is the same when the disfigurement is spiritual.”

“What do you mean?”

“When your father yielded his will to your aunt, he condemned himself to a punishment that is exacted in shame and despair. The only refuge of the weak is another's strength. To escape from the hell of his own thoughts and feelings it was necessary that he should adopt completely and blindly those of your aunt. Moral cowardice has used that mask from the beginning. But the face behind the mask still lives.”

“I see.”

“Your mother found something to love in that weakness, remember. She allowed your aunt to stay here. She was even ready, perhaps, to endure the bitterness of that arrangement when illness deprived her, momentarily, of her reason. I feel sure she would have wished that you should not be less generous and forgiving. Your father is stricken because you had nothing to say to him. As you heard, he looks on these murders as supernatural occurrences, the expression of Heaven's anger against himself. The man is utterly forsaken.”

Dr. Hailey spoke in very gentle tones which were free of any suggestion of reproof. He added:

“At least he didn't spare himself.”

Eoghan stood erect.

“Thank you,” he said. “I'll go to him.”

He strode out of the room. When he had gone, Dr. Hailey sat down and helped himself to snuff. He remained for some minutes with his eyes closed and then rose to his feet. He left the room and ascended the stairs, going as quietly as possible. When he reached the first landing he stood, listening. The house was silent. He began the second ascent, pausing every few steps. As he neared the top of the stairs he crouched down suddenly. A faint sound of voices had reached his ears.

He waited for a few minutes and then completed his ascent. He could hear the voices distinctly now. They came from the nursery and he recognized Oonagh's clear, well-bred accents. He hesitated for a moment and then decided to continue the enterprise which had brought him upstairs. He crossed the narrow landing and put his hand on the door of the pantry from the window of which he and Barley had examined the spike in the wall above Miss Gregor's bedroom. He turned the handle and opened the door. At the same moment the nursery door was thrown open by Oonagh. She uttered a little cry of dismay and drew back a step. Then she recognized him.

“Dr. Hailey! I…I thought it was…”

She broke off and came towards him. He saw that she looked pale and strained but there was a new light of happiness in her eyes.

“Hamish has been rather restless,” she said. “Christina and I have been trying to get him to sleep.”

She led him into the nursery as she spoke. In spite of the heat of the weather there was a peep of fire burning in the grate and on this a kettle simmered. The room possessed an air of repose which affected him the more graciously in that it contrasted in so sharp a manner with the unease of the room he had just quitted. He walked to the cot and stood for a moment looking down at the sleeping child. Its small face had that flower-like quality which is childhood's exclusive possession; its features expressed an exquisite gentleness. Christina joined him at the cot. She pointed to a number of small red spots on the child's brow.

“I think he's had a little touch of the nettle rash,” she said in her soft accents.

“Yes. That's the real origin of his trouble.”

Oonagh was standing at the fire.

“You can't think,” she exclaimed, “what a relief to me your view of his case has been. That was the one bright spot in all our troubles.”

She crossed the room as she spoke.

“Is there any light on the death of that poor man?”

“None.” Dr. Hailey polished his eyeglass between his finger and thumb. “Were you here when his death occurred?” he asked in earnest tones.

“Yes.”

“The window was open?”

She started and then nodded assent.

“Did you hear anything?”

There was a moment of silence.

“It's strange but I thought I heard a splash…two splashes.” She spoke with hesitation as if the sounds had troubled her.

“Did you look out of the window?”

Again he saw her start.

“Yes, I did, after I heard the second splash.” A note of fear crept into her voice. “The moon was shining on the water where the burn flows into the loch. I saw a black thing, like a seal's head, swimming down the burn, but when the moon struck it it flashed and glimmered.”

‘‘Like a fish's body?”

“Exactly like that.”

The doctor put his eyeglass into his eye.

“Other people saw the same object,” he stated in deliberate tones. “And put their own interpretations on it. What did you think it was?”

“I couldn't think what it was.”

Dr. Hailey turned to the nurse.

“Did you see it?”

“No, sir, I was getting the baby's milk at the time. But Mrs. Gregor told me about it.”

“Has anything of the sort ever been seen here before?”

“Not that I've ever heard, sir.”

Christina's hands were locked together. She kept wringing them. A lively fear had come into her eyes.

“The fishermen do say,” she exclaimed in awe-struck tones, “that sometimes there be them that splashes round their boats at night.”

“Yes?”

“They will be afraid when they hear the splashing…”

Dr. Hailey shrugged his shoulders.

“Loch Fyne is full of porpoises, you know,” he said. “A school of porpoises can make a lot of noise.”

The old woman did not answer. She continued to wring her hands and shake her head. He stood looking at her for a moment. His eyeglass fell.

“One of the maids says that she heard a splash on the night when Inspector Dundas was killed. Did you hear anything that night?”

“No, sir.”

“The windows were open on that night also?”

Christina assented. “I've kept them open,” she said, “ever since this spell of heat began.”

Dr. Hailey walked to the window and stood looking out. The moon had travelled far since the time of Barley's death but its light still fell on the water in intermittent gleams as clouds, newly come from the west, moved across its face.

“One ought to hear a splash from any of these windows,” he commented in tones which seemed to carry a rebuke. He turned back to face the occupants of the room. “The weather seems to be breaking. I thought this heat could not last much longer.”

Again he surveyed the water. His face was troubled as if some important decision was toward in his mind. It seemed that he was in doubt how to explain himself because he frowned several times. At last he left the window and returned to Oonagh.

“That splash may be more important than you suppose,” he said in guarded tones. “I feel that we ought to know everything about it that can possibly be known.”

He paused. The girl's clear eyes looked into his. She shook her head.

“I felt dreadfully afraid,” she confessed, “when I heard the splashes. It was a strange, eerie sound at that hour of the night. But perhaps my nerves were overwrought because of what was happening.”

She made a little gesture of apology for herself, adding: “When one knows there is a policeman waiting at the foot of the stairs.”

“The other people who heard the splashes were terrified so that they wanted to leave the house.”

She shook her head again. “I think I would have felt the same wish myself in other circumstances.” He saw her glance at the cot as she spoke. Her eyes filled with tears and she turned away.

“You can help me,” he told her gently, “by listening again during the next few minutes. I'm going downstairs to carry out an experiment, the results of which may or may not clear up this horrible business.” He paused and considered for a few moments. “The points I wish to determine,” he resumed, “are these: can you hear doors and windows being opened; can you hear every splash at the mouth of the burn; are small objects on the surface of the water clearly visible from these windows? I won't explain myself further because I want your judgement to be unbiased, but I will tell you that I mean to go out of the house by the french-windows in the little writing-room. I shall cough rather loudly just before I come out of the room and I wish specially that you will listen for this cough. A splash will follow, perhaps several splashes.”

He watched Oonagh closely as he outlined this programme. She showed no sign of any deeper interest in it than the facts warranted.

“There is one other point. I want these observations made in this room. Can I therefore ask you to remain in this room until I come back?”

He had emphasized the words “in this room” each time that he spoke them. He saw a look of surprise in her face but she offered no comment.

“I shall not leave this room,” she said, “until you come back. Do you wish me to stand here or beside the window?”

“Here at first. If you hear a splash go to the window at once and watch the mouth of the burn.”

He walked to the door, treading softly so as not to disturb the child. At the door he turned again.

“Remember,” he said in a loud whisper. “You will hear a cough just before I come out of the french-window. I will leave this door ajar. So you may hear the cough either through the door, that is through the inside of the house, or through the window, that is from the outside. Try to discriminate between these two ways.”

He descended the stairs to the ground floor. The only illumination of the hall came from the study which remained empty. He listened and heard voices in the gun-room behind the writing-room. He knocked on the door of this room and was invited by Duchlan's shrill voice to enter.

Duchlan, still in his dressing-gown, was seated in an arm-chair, the only chair in the room. His son stood beside him and the old man had his hand on Eoghan's arm. There was a look of such happiness on Duchlan's face as caused the doctor to regret that he had intruded. But the old man showed no resentment at his coming.

“Forgive me,” Dr. Hailey said, “but at last there is a gleam of light. I am anxious to act quickly in case it should be extinguished and I need help.”

Both men stiffened to hear him; he saw anxiety in both their faces.

“A gleam of light.” Duchlan repeated in the tones of a prisoner who has abandoned hope and now hears that hope remains.

“That, or an illusion, perhaps. I won't raise false hopes by entering into any details, and besides, time is short.” He glanced at the window as he spoke. The deep, transparent blue of the night sky was unchanged in colour but the outlines of the clouds had become sharper. He turned to Eoghan. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

“What about me?” Duchlan asked.

“We will report to you at the earliest moment.”

They left the old man with his happiness and crossed the hall to the study. Dr. Hailey shut the door.

“I am about to keep an appointment,” he stated. “May I ask that, if you agree to accompany me, you will obey implicitly any directions I may give you, and not ask any questions?”

“With whom is the appointment?”

The doctor hesitated. Then a slight frown gathered on his brow.

“With murder,” he declared in laconic tones.

Chapter XXXVII

The Swimmer Returns

“I want you to obtain a reel of black cotton and some pins.” Dr. Hailey spoke sharply. “You must find them downstairs, possibly in the servants' quarters. On no account are you to set foot on the stairs.”

Eoghan did not try to hide his surprise, but his Army training instantly discounted it.

“Very well.”

He left the room. The doctor followed him and went to the little apartment opening off the hall, where hats and coats were hung. He took his own hat from its peg and carried it into the study. He glanced out anxiously at the night and then looked at his watch. The outlines of the trees below the window were dimly visible. After about five minutes Eoghan returned with the thread and pins. He handed them to his companion without comment.

“Wait here,” Dr. Hailey told him. He left the room, closing the door gently behind him. When he returned he was wearing an overcoat and carried a second overcoat over his arm.

“Put this on, please,” he ordered Eoghan, “and turn up the collar, then follow me.”

He extinguished the lamp and climbed out of the window on to the bed of earth on which McDonald's footprint had been discovered. He glanced up as he did so at the window of Miss Gregor's room, shut now, and lighted by the moon. The gravel crunched under his feet and he stood still, in sudden hesitation. When Eoghan joined him he urged that the utmost care was necessary to avoid noise.

“The slightest sound may betray us. Ears are strained at this moment to catch the slightest sound.”

They crossed the gravel path, passing the front door. When they reached the grass bank the doctor told his companion to lie down and remain without moving. He threw himself on the grass as he spoke and crept forward towards the window of the writing-room. Eoghan lost sight of him among the shadows and then fancied that he could see him again near the window; but a moment later he gave up this idea. The air was still heavy with heat and felt oppressive and damp. He thought that it was true that the darkest hour comes before the dawn, perhaps the eeriest hour also, since the clear lines of night are blurred by mists and shadows. What had happened to the doctor and what was he doing?

A cough, short and dry, came from the darkness. Then Dr. Hailey's voice rang out in accents that vibrated with fear and distress:

“Don't come out!”

There was a gleam, as of steel, Eoghan thought he heard a thudding sound. Then something that went heavily came galloping down the bank towards the place where he lay. He wiped his brow with his hand as it passed. There was a splash in the water below. He turned and looked down at the water.

A black object, like a seal, was swimming quickly out to sea. He felt sure that it was a seal.

The moonlight touched it. It gleamed.

Eoghan wiped his brow again. He could hear his heart thumping against his ribs.

A groan, low and piteous, came to him from the direction of the french-windows. He heard his name pronounced in feeble tones.