Chapter Three

 

I descended the staircase as quickly and with as much dignity as I could muster, hoping Ernie would take his time joining us downstairs until I’d conveyed my story to the two women and they calmed down some. They backed away from me, still clinging to each other, as if I were a demon incarnate.

“Please,” I said to the older of the two, “my name is Miss Mercedes Allcutt, and I found Mrs. Chalmers this way when I came to visit her. The front door was unlocked, and I was worried, so I entered the house.” I didn’t mention that I’d been looking for my fugitive employer at the time.

They continued to stare at me. I sighed.

“Will you please tell me where the telephone is? We need to telephone the police department. I believe Mrs. Chalmers was done to death by a criminal.”

The older woman bellowed, “What? You think she was murdered?”

The younger woman let out another cry of alarm, although it wasn’t quite so loud as her last couple had been. “She told us this would happen,” she said to the other woman, much to my interest. “Didn’t she tell us, Mrs. Hanratty? She told us, didn’t she?”

“She did, Susan. She did.”

Now I was confused. “You mean Mrs. Chalmers feared for her life?”

“Yes!” wailed Susan.

Oh, dear. This was such a pickle. And here I’d been told Ernie was only interested in finding some stolen jewelry. Why hadn’t he told me this part of the story? Probably because he didn’t want me doing what he calls snooping into the matter. Idiotic man. He’d left me out of things, and just look what had happened to him. Not to mention Mrs. Chalmers. One of these days, I told myself, I’d teach him what an asset I was. Until then . . .

“Please tell me where the telephone is, Mrs. Hanratty, and I’ll ’phone a police detective I know. In the meantime, I believe you should go to the kitchen and prepare a nice pot of tea. That might calm the two of you somewhat.”

Mrs. Hanratty, rather than taking my sensible suggestion and acting upon it, looked around the hallway. “Is the mister here?”

It was my turn to stare. “There’s a mister? A Mr. Chalmers?”

Mrs. Hanratty nodded. Then she seemed to gather control of herself, straightened, set Susan aside, and said, “Susan, I don’t know why this young woman is in the house, but I think you’d best telephone the mister at his place of business.” To me she said, “I think it’s mighty fishy to find a stranger in the house along with the body of the missus, young woman.”

I didn’t blame her for feeling as she did. However, I also wasn’t guilty of doing anything more grievous than entering a house uninvited.

It was then when Susan chose to scream again. I knew what had caused this latest outpouring of terror without even turning around to see Ernie, but I did anyway, mainly because I wasn’t sure he was steady enough on his pins to negotiate the staircase.

“Do you need my help?” I asked politely. I had to ask the question rather loudly because Susan was in full rant by that time. I heard a sharp smack, and she shut up, from which I deduced that Mrs. Hanratty had slapped Susan’s cheek to quell her hysterics.

“And just who in blazes are you?” Mrs. Hanratty demanded of Ernie. I got the feeling she’d been shepherding the members of this household for quite a few years, because she had a tone of command that almost rivaled that of my mother.

Ernie, pale, pasty, and looking sick, reached into his jacket pocket and produced a card, which he handed to Mrs. Hanratty, who stared at it as if she expected it to bite her. Then she took the card and read it. “You’re the fellow who’s been looking into the theft?” she asked, as if she didn’t believe it. She stared at Ernie as she said the words, and I have to admit that her doubtful tone was justified. Ernie looked perfectly awful.

“Yes, I am. I’m also the fellow to whom Mrs. Chalmers came when she suspected someone was trying to kill her.” Then he knelt beside the body.

I heard Mrs. Hanratty gulp.

“Has anyone called Phil?”

“Not yet. I was trying to calm down the servants.”

“Well, for God’s sake, go call him! What the devil are you waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for someone to tell me where the telephone is, Ernest Templeton!” By that time in this circus of events, I’d become downright cranky.