The Siamese Twin Mystery (18 page)

“No wonder the poor fellow spent his days and nights in the study. I’ll wager he’s slept many a night away on that battered old couch downstairs!”

“Stop jabbering and keep an ear on the hall,” grunted the Inspector. “Rather not have her catch us in here.”

“You will save a lot of time and perspiration if you tackle that chiffonier. All the other pieces are unquestionably filled with Parisian fripperies of the genus female.”

The massive piece in question was, like the other furniture, of French design. The Inspector went through its compartments and drawers like an aged Raffles.

“Shirts, socks, underwear, the usual junk,” he reported. “
And
gewgaws. Lord, what gewgaws! Whole top drawer crammed full of ’em. Only these look new, not like those relics downstairs. Who says a medical man can’t be frivolous? Didn’t that poor fool know that stickpins went out of style fifteen years ago?”

“I told you it was a waste of time,” said Ellery irritably. Then a thought struck him. “No rings?”

“Rings?”

“I said rings.”

The Inspector scratched his head. “Now, by ginger, that
is
queer. You’d think a man with his fondness for trinkets would at least have one ring, wouldn’t you?”

“That was in my mind. I don’t recall any on his hands, do you?” said Ellery with a sharp note in his voice.

“No.”

“Hmm. This business of the rings is the oddest feature of the whole affair. We’d better watch our own or we’ll be losing them one of these fine days. Not that they’re worth anything, but then that’s what someone’s apparently after—rings that aren’t worth anything. Pshaw! It’s nutty. … How about Mrs. Xavier? Do a Jimmy Valentine and go through her jewel box, will you?”

The Inspector obediently rifled Mrs. Xavier’s dressing table until he found the box. Both men examined its contents with practised eyes. And although it contained several diamond bracelets and two necklaces and a half-dozen pairs of earrings, all of them clearly expensive, there were no rings at all, not even cheap ones.

The Inspector closed the box thoughtfully and put it back where he had found it. “What’s it mean, El?”

“I wish I knew. It’s queer, deucedly queer. No rhyme nor reason really. …”

A step outside caused them simultaneously to whirl and race noiselessly toward the door. They pressed close to each other behind it, scarcely breathing.

The knob moved a little, and stopped. There was a click as it moved again, and then the door very slowly pushed inward. It stopped half ajar and they could hear someone’s hoarse breath through the crack. Ellery squinted through it and stiffened.

Mark Xavier was standing with one foot in his sister-in-law’s room and the other in the corridor. He was pale and his body rigid with tension. He stood there that way without stirring for a full minute, as if he were debating whether to go in or go back. How long he would have remained that way Ellery was never to know; for of a sudden he whirled, hastily closed the door, and from the sound of his footsteps made off on a run down the hall.

The Inspector pulled the door open and peered out. Xavier was padding along the carpeted corridor toward the farther end, where his room lay. He fumbled with the knob for a moment, pulled his door open, and vanished.

“Now what did that mean?” murmured Ellery, emerging from Mrs. Xavier’s room and closing the door behind his father. “What scared him, and why did he want to sneak in there at all?”

“Somebody coming,” whispered the Inspector. The two men sped across the hall to their own room. They wheeled and walked leisurely back again, as if they were just going downstairs.

Two neatly brushed young heads appeared from below. It was the twins coming upstairs.

“Ah, boys,” said the Inspector genially. “Going in for a nap?”

“Yes, sir,” said Francis; he seemed startled. “Uh—you been up here long, sir?”

“We thought—” began Julian.

Francis paled; but something must have flashed between him and his brother, for Julian stopped.

“A little while,” smiled Ellery. “Why?”

“Did you see anybody—come up, sir?”

“No. We’ve just come out of our bedroom.”

The boys grinned rather feebly, shuffled their feet for a moment, and then went into their own room.

“Proving,” murmured Ellery as they descended the staircase, “that boys will be boys.”

“What d’ye mean?”

“Oh, it’s most obvious. They saw Xavier make for the upper floor and followed him out of sheer curiosity. He heard them coming up and ran. Did you ever know a normal boy who didn’t love to wallow in mysteries?”

“Hunh,” said the Inspector, compressing his lips. “That may be, but how about Xavier? What devilment was
he
up to?”

“What devilment was he up to,” said Ellery soberly, “indeed.”

The house wilted under the noon sun. Everything was hot to the touch and slithery with ash grime. They lolled about in the comparative coolness of the gameroom, too listless to talk or play. Ann Forrest sat at the grand piano and fingered a meaningless tune; her face was moist with perspiration and her fingers were wet upon the keys. Even Smith had been driven from the furnace of the terrace; he sat by himself in a corner near the piano, sucking a cold cigar and blinking his froggy eyes from time to time.

Mrs. Xavier for the first time in over a day awakened to her responsibilities as a hostess. For hours now she had seemed to be emerging from a bad dream; her face was softer and her eyes not so agonized.

She rang for the elderly housekeeper. “Luncheon, Mrs. Wheary.”

Mrs. Wheary was visibly distressed. She wrung her hands and paled. “Oh, but, Mrs. Xavier, I—I can’t serve,” she whispered.

“And why not?” demanded Mrs. Xavier coldly.

“I mean I can’t serve a formal luncheon, Mrs. Xavier,” wailed the old lady. “There—there isn’t really enough variety … enough to eat, you see.”

The tall woman sat up straight. “Why—You mean we’ve run out of provisions?” she said slowly.

The housekeeper was surprised. “But you must have known, Mrs. Xavier!”

She passed her hand over her forehead. “Yes, yes, Mrs. Wheary. Perhaps I—I didn’t notice. I’ve been a little upset. Isn’t there—anything?”

“Just some canned things, Mrs. Xavier—salmon and tuna and sardines; there’s plenty of
that;
and just a few tins of peas and asparagus and fruit. I’ve baked bread this morning—there’s still a little flour and yeast—but the eggs and butter and potatoes and onions are gone, and the—”

“Please. Make up some sandwiches. Is there any coffee left?”

“Yes, Madam, but no cream.”

“Tea, then.”

Mrs. Wheary flushed and went away.

Mrs. Xavier murmured: “I’m so sorry. We were a little short to begin with, and now that the grocer’s missed the weekly delivery, and the fire—”

“We quite understand,” said Mrs. Carreau with a smile. “This isn’t the usual situation and we shouldn’t stand on the usual ceremony. Don’t distress yourself—”

“We’re all good soldiers, anyway,” said Miss Forrest gaily.

Mrs. Xavier sighed; she did not look directly at the small woman across the room.

“Perhaps if we went on short rations,” began Dr. Holmes hesitantly.

“It looks as if we’ll have to!” cried Miss Forrest, banging out a horrible chord, and then she blushed and fell silent.

No one said anything for a long time.

Then the Inspector said softly: “Look here, folks. We may as well face the facts. We’re in one devil of a fix. Up to now I’d hoped those people down there might do something with the fire.” They were regarding him furtively, striving to mask their alarm. He added in haste: “Oh, they undoubtedly will yet. …”

“Did you see the smoke this morning?” said Mrs. Carreau quietly. “
I
saw it from my bedroom balcony.”

There was another silence. “At any rate,” said the Inspector hurriedly, “we mustn’t give up. As Dr. Holmes suggests, we’ll have to go on a very strict diet.” He grinned. “That ought to suit the ladies, eh?” They smiled feebly at that. “It’s the sensible thing to do. It’s just a question of holding out as long—I mean, until help comes. Just a question of time, you see.”

Ellery, buried in the depths of a big chair, sighed noiselessly. He felt horribly depressed. This slow, slow waiting. … And yet his brain would not give him rest. There was a problem to be solved. The persistent wraith was annoying him again. There was something …

“It’s very bad, isn’t it, Inspector?” said Mrs. Carreau softly. Her eyes strayed to the twins sitting quietly opposite her, and the queerest pain came into them.

The Inspector made a helpless little gesture. “Yes, it’s—Well, it’s bad enough.”

Ann Forrest’s face was as white as her sports dress. She stared at him and then looked down and clasped her hands to conceal their trembling.

“Damn!” exploded Mark Xavier, springing from his chair. “I’m not going to sit here and be smoked out like a rat in a hole! Let’s do something!”

“Take it easy, Xavier,” said the old gentleman mildly. “Don’t let it get you. I was just going to suggest that—action. Now that we all know where we stand there’s no sense dawdling around, as you say, and doing nothing. We’ve not really
looked,
you know.”

“Looked?” Mrs. Xavier was startled.

“I mean we haven’t even gone over the ground. How about that cliff at the back of the house—is there any way down, even a dangerous way? Just,” he added hurriedly, “in case it comes to that. I always like to have an emergency exit. Ha-ha!”

No one responded to his feeble laugh. Mark Xavier said grimly: “A mountain goat couldn’t get down that declivity. Get
that
out of your head, Inspector.”

“Hmm. It was just a thought,” said the old gentleman weakly. “Well, then!” He rubbed his hands with a false briskness. “There’s only one thing to be done. After we’ve had a sandwich, we’re going on a little tour of exploration.”

They watched him with a rising of hopes, and Ellery in his chair felt a sick helplessness in the pit of his stomach. Ann Forrest’s eyes began to sparkle.

“You mean—go into the woods, Inspector?” she asked eagerly.

“There’s a smart young woman! That’s exactly what I do mean, Miss Forrest. The ladies, too. Everybody get into the roughest clothes you have—knickers, if you’ve got ’em, or a riding habit—and we’ll split up and search these woods from rim to rim.”

“That’ll be jolly!” cried Francis. “Come
on,
Jule!”

“No, no, Francis,” said Mrs. Carreau. “You—you mustn’t, you two—”

“And why not, Mrs. Carreau?” said the Inspector heartily. “There isn’t a particle of danger and it will be fun for the lads. Fun for all of us! Get some of this gloom out of our bones. … Ah, Mrs. Wheary, that’s fine! Dig in, everybody! Sooner we get started, the better. Sandwich, El?”

“I suppose so,” said Ellery.

The Inspector stared at him, then shrugged and bustled about chattering like an old monkey. In a few moments they were all smiling and chatting amiably, even gaily, with one another. They ate very fastidiously and carefully, savoring each mouthful of the butterless fish sandwiches. Ellery, watching them, felt the sickness in his stomach increase. Everybody seemed to have forgotten the crisp, cold corpse of Dr. Xavier.

The Inspector marshaled his forces like a latter-day Napoleon, making a game of their proposed explorations and at the same time shrewdly planning their movements so that not a yard of the silent smoky woods below them would go unsurveyed. Even Mrs. Wheary was impressed into the ranks, and the saturnine Bones. He placed himself on the extreme west of the semicircle of forest, Ellery on the extreme east, and the others at spaced intervals between them. Mark Xavier took the halfway position; between him and the Inspector were Miss Forrest, Dr. Holmes, Mrs. Xavier, and the twins; between Xavier and Ellery were Mrs. Carreau, Bones, Smith, and Mrs. Wheary.

“Now remember,” shouted the Inspector when they were all in their places except himself and Ellery. “Keep going straight down, straight as you can. Naturally you’ll keep getting farther and farther away from one another as you go down—mountain widens the farther you go from the top. But keep your eyes open. When you get close to the fire—don’t go too close—peel a sharp eye for a way through. If you find anything that even looks promising, yodel and we’ll all come running. All set?”

“All set!” yelled Miss Forrest, very handsome in a pair of knickerbockers which she had borrowed from Dr. Holmes. Her cheeks were glowing and she was more naturally effervescent than the Queens had ever seen her.

“Then
go
!” And
sotto voce
the Inspector added: “And may God help the lots of you.”

They plunged into the woods. The Queens heard the Carreau boys whooping like young Indians as they crashed through the underbrush and vanished.

For a moment father and son measured each other in silence.

“How now, old Roman?” murmured Ellery. “Satisfied?”

“Well, I had to do something, didn’t I? And,” the Inspector added defensively, “how do you know we won’t find a way down? It’s not unlikely!”

“It’s most unlikely.”

“Let’s not argue about it,” snapped the old gentleman. “Reason I placed you at the east and myself opposite is that those are the two likeliest places, no matter
what
you say. Keep as close to the edge of the cliff as you can. That’s where the trees grow thinnest, probably, and that’s where there’ll be a way out, if any.” He fell silent for a moment, and then he shrugged. “Well, get going. Good luck.”

“Good luck,” said Ellery soberly, and turned and made for the rear of the garage. He looked back before he rounded the house and saw his father clumping dejectedly along toward the west.

Ellery loosened his necktie, wiped his streaming forehead with a damp handkerchief, and went on.

He started at the lip of the precipice to the side of the house, behind the garage, and made his way into the woods as closely to the edge of the cut as he could. The hot foliage closed over his head and instantly he felt new beads of perspiration spring out of his pores all over his body. The air was stifling, unbreathable. It was filled with an impalpable smoke, invisible but choking. His eyes soon began to stream. He lowered his head and plunged on doggedly.