The death of Denise Clarke threw the household and Lieutenant King into temporary confusion.
To consider it murder made no sense. Mildred James presumably had died because she possessed some secret knowledge concerning the murder of Dick Mallory. She had been eager to tell what she knew to Lieutenant King. But Denise, who, had fluttered in and out of the place in a butterfly style, and who aroused official suspicion only because she had left the premises without permission and returned secretly—and showed too much interest in Uncle Victor’s cyanide jar—Denise, who was unstable, who behaved hysterically—Denise, who was silly but rich and beloved by Sarah Mallory—why should she have died? Other than accidentally?
“Pure accident,” Seth Godwin said.
Bart Wayne was deeply moved. His voice was shaking.
“She was just beyond my reach. I saw her fall.”
Seth spoke in a flat professional voice.
“Her neck is broken, just below the base of the skull. Death was practically instantaneous. One heel of one slipper is missing. She caught it somehow and that did it.” With disgust he added, “What silly shoes! What possesses women to go around on such heels?”
I was glad he wasn’t looking at me. Mine were almost as foolish as those which had tripped Denise, but I hadn’t, of course, gone across fields in the dark, and lurked behind hedges to push people down. Why had she done such foolish things? Why? Because she was unstable? She gave way to hysteria. She objected childishly to any probing into her own life or her reasons for doing what she did. Patrick had suspected her of fear because she knew something about the murders, but that was merely conjecture.
Jane Mallory, still calm, came down the steps. Amelia Mallory, fully dressed, carrying her knitting, came out on the upstairs porch and followed Jane down. Sarah Mallory appeared on the downstairs back porch and stood watching the scene. Her face was hard and grim. Earl Hollister came around the house from the front and stared stolidly at the body of the woman he was supposed to guard.
Patrick went up the steps to examine them for any sign of anything which might cause a fall. Grease. Or some special obstacle over which she might have tripped.
There was nothing there now.
Awareness of Sarah Mallory and the grief she would endure from this accident created a little special silence. Overhead the whippoorwill sounded his sad call. The scent of lilacs burdened the air.
“Break it up,” Lieutenant King said tersely. “Hollister, stand by out here. The rest of you get into the house by way of the kitchen. Go to the parlor and wait there. Wayne, suppose you take charge of these folks till I get in there. Abbott, will you phone the ambulance, please.”
“This is getting to be routine, Lieutenant.”
“Too routine.” King’s voice was harsh. “I don’t entirely accept your accident theory, Doc. Mrs. Jane Mallory, wait in the kitchen, please.”
Nobody did what King asked because Sarah Mallory spoke from the porch, “How did it happen?”
“That’s what we intend to find out,” King said.
“Well, be in a hurry about it, if you’re capable of hurrying,” Sarah Mallory said, her manner hard as it had been during the inquiry into her son’s murder. “If you hadn’t dillydallied around the way you have, this wouldn’t’ve happened. It’s your fault. You called the child in and asked questions which upset her. She became hysterical. She tried to leave the house in the worst possible way. You should be arrested for criminal negligence, Officer, or whatever they call you.”
“Please don’t upset yourself, Cousin Sarah,” Bart said.
“But it’s true. Something could have been done. We have a doctor in the house. He could have given her something to quiet her except for that policeman. I asked him why he didn’t and he said that you were in charge here, Officer, and that he could do nothing without your permission. It’s a fine thing when an innocent person can’t even have a doctor. You haven’t heard the end of this, Officer. I’ll go to the Governor if I must and you will be dismissed.”
King pretended not to hear her.
“Mrs. Mallory, I would have asked the lieutenant’s permission,” Seth Godwin said. “We were taken by surprise in Denise’s case. You know that. She seemed to have become quiet there in the chair. Then she ran out too fast for us. Her falling was pure accident and I don’t think anybody was to blame, really.”
“Where were you, Hollister?” King asked the deputy.
“I went out front. Bart Wayne had gone after her up the stairs and Doc Godwin was making for the side door and you were in the kitchen. That’s all the ways out there are, Lieutenant.”
King spoke irritably.
“All right. All right. Go in the house all of you. Do as I said.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind,” Sarah Mallory retorted. “I insist that you get out of this so-called investigation. You are incompetent and, as I said, you’re guilty of criminal negligence. You are one of those know-nothings who contrive to get elected to an office they know nothing about. If you don’t leave this house of your own accord, I’ll see that your career, or whatever you call it, is finished for good. Now get out.”
“Madam,” King said. “For once you’re not giving all the orders. You can go to the Governor or the President or God himself and say whatever you like. If I wanted my career as you call it to end quick I’d do just what you suggest. Now go to that parlor like a good girl …”
“What impudence! Barton, do something!”
“Cousin Sarah, please do as Lieutenant King asks. He’s only trying to do his job, really.”
His voice was still uncertain. Mrs. Mallory sensed it, opened her lips to talk back to King some more, and then turned and walked with complete composure into the kitchen.
“Go with her, Mr. Wayne, please.”
“I shall. I’ll talk to her, Lieutenant.”
“Somebody had better,” King hissed between his teeth.
After Bart went into the kitchen Seth Godwin said gently, “He was rather fond of Denise, I think. Tough on him to see the accident.”
Amelia Mallory, knitting, said, “Well, I wasn’t fond of her. I’m glad she’s dead.”
“You don’t mean that, Amelia,” Jane Mallory said.
Amelia glanced at the huddled body. She sneered.
“I do so mean it.”
“Why?” King asked her. He was baffled by her personality. Who wasn’t?
Amelia didn’t look up. She spoke in an assured tone, her eyes fixed on the corpse.
“I hated her. My mother loved her more than me. But she was silly and two-faced. If I behaved like she did my mother would punish me. Now she’s dead and I don’t care.”
“Where were you when she fell, Miss Mallory?”
“I was in my room, knitting.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Why should I? I’ve told the truth.”
“She has, Lieutenant,” Jane Mallory said. “I saw her in her room as I passed on my way out. Her door was open.”
King looked at Jane.
“Just what were you doing upstairs, Mrs. Mallory?”
“I went up to have a talk with Mrs. Rollo. But her room was dark, so I decided not to disturb her.”
“Hollister, you sat in the front hall, didn’t you? Did you see Mrs. Jane Mallory go upstairs?”
“Well, I didn’t, but if she says she went, it’s so, Lieutenant.”
King glared at the deputy.
Jane said, “Earl Hollister was in the front hall and I could hear several voices in Mrs. Mallory’s room, so rather than pass her open door I used the outside steps.”
“How long were you up there?”
“About ten minutes. Mrs. Rollo’s room was dark, as I said, so I went into the bathroom and combed my hair and put on lipstick.”
“Is there no bath downstairs?”
“None except Mrs. Mallory’s private bath and a shower off the kitchen for the maids. You were questioning people in the kitchen, weren’t you? There’s an inside flight of stairs from the kitchen to the back upstairs hall, also, but I didn’t use it because I didn’t want to interrupt you in the kitchen, Lieutenant.”
“You’re very considerate,” King said, very curt. “Why did you want to see Mrs. Rollo?”
“I’m very fond of her. I don’t expect to be here long and I wanted to chat with her. That’s all.”
“All except that you were told to wait in the living room with that old guy you call Uncle Victor? Where is he?”
“I left him in the living room, Lieutenant. I’m sorry if I disobeyed orders. I just didn’t think.”
King grunted.
“Where were you when Miss Clarke ran up the front stairs?”
“In the bath.”
“You saw her pass?”
“No. The door was closed. I thought it was she. I recognized her because of the kind of sound her footsteps made. There’s no one else who would be running along the hall in high heels at that hour. I heard Bart running after her.”
“You knew it was Bart?”
“Yes. He called after her in a low voice. She didn’t answer.”
“What did he say?”
“Wait. That’s all I heard, just wait. I sensed it was something upsetting for I heard anxious voices downstairs. I left the bath at once and hurried after Bart along the hall. Before I reached the porch I heard the scream and the sound of somebody falling.”
King eyed her.
“I hope you can prove all this, Mrs. Mallory. It was dark, you know. No one who had been in a lighted room could have seen very much on coming out into that darkness. You yourself didn’t stand on the porch and push her down the steps, did you, Mrs. Mallory?” Jane did not reply. She pressed her lips tightly together, and with disdain. “I’m interested in the way you have managed to be on the scenes of all the murders tonight.”
“But Denise’s fall was an accident,” Jane said.
“That will need proving, too. Go into the house, Mrs. Mallory, and wait for me either in the living room or the parlor. Thank you.”
Without a word Jane went into the house by way of the kitchen. Amelia followed, her knitting in her hands. King looked after them with strange eyes.
“You go with them, Doc. Thanks.”
“Let’s get inside,” he said to us, as soon as Seth was out of sight. “Hollister will stay with the corpse.”
We went into the kitchen. The exhibits stood on the table where we had left them, all but one—the glass jar with cyanide in it from Uncle Victor’s cabin. Which one had taken it? They’d all gone in ahead of us, usually one at a time, and Uncle Victor had been alone in the house, apparently, while we were grouped outside the house around the body of Denise Clarke.
King swore with angry vehemence. He started looking around the kitchen until Patrick came back from telephoning for the ambulance. The jar might be hidden in the big kitchen and might be hard to find.
The lieutenant gave up the search to listen to the notes I had taken of the talk in Mrs. Mallory’s room. I read them through.
King asked, “What do you make of Denise Carke’s saying to Bart Wayne that now he’d have to marry her, Mrs. Abbott?”
“I can only guess at that. Mrs. Mallory was hellbent on her son’s marrying Denise and if Bart was to take her son’s place she might have insisted on the same thing. Denise was being sarcastic, because she kept taunting Bart about marrying Jane, as you’ve heard also in my notes.”
“More hysteria, I suppose.”
“Yes. Or jealousy. Bart’s fallen in love with Jane, remember. Denise was hysterical. Mrs. Mallory wanted Seth Godwin to give her a sedative … but you’ve heard that from the notes, too, Lieutenant.”
“Hum-m. Mighty pretty girl, she was. Too bad.”
“Mighty scared girl,” Patrick said.
“You’ve said that before, Mr. Abbott.”
“Yes. I’m convinced that Denise knew or guessed who murdered Dick Mallory and Mildred James.”
King passed one hand over his hair. He looked tired and dejected.
“Time has come to wind this thing up. That old girl is right. I’ve let it poke along because I’ve been afraid of making mistakes. What bad luck! Sheriff and state’s attorney out of town and me having to manage with only a guy like Hollister to help me. I’m glad you’re here, Mr. Abbott.”
I said, “A couple of hours ago you wanted us locked up.”
King attempted a grin.
“Well, you could have given me a hand in that fight, you know. I look as if I’d tangled with a buzz saw.”
Patrick said, “Theoretically, I’m on the side of the law, but Seth is my friend, Lieutenant. And you gave him cause, you know.”
King waved the subject away.
“Well, as I said, I’ll get them together in the parlor again and this time’s the last, whether we learn anything or not. One thing is sure. Whoever took the jar of cyanide from that table yonder did the murders.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Patrick said.
“I would,” Lieutenant King said. “They walked through this room one at a time. Any one of them could have done it unseen. Victor Mallory had the best chance. He never joined us outside.”
“Jane Mallory wasn’t alone here, Lieutenant. Amelia Mallory followed close behind her. They would have been in the kitchen at the same time. Then Seth Godwin left us and he may have been with them, too.”
“Jane could have slipped back after the others went on into the front part of the house. Jane did the murders, Mr. Abbott.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. And if the Clarke girl was murdered by being pushed down the steps, it was Jane who did it. We have only her own statement that she was in the bathroom. She may have been on that porch. The Clarke girl wouldn’t have seen her because she was running fast and it was dark. Jane could have stepped back in the dark before Wayne saw her.” He paused. “Maybe he did see her.” His eyes gleamed. “Maybe that’s one reason he’s so upset. He’s said to have fallen hard for Jane Mallory. Pretty tough to see a woman you’re crazy about doing a murder.”
“Right,” Patrick agreed.
“You still think she didn’t do the other murders?”
“I can be wrong, Lieutenant.”
“Well, let’s get in there. I’ll ask a few general questions and then I’m taking her to jail. I guess I have dilly-dallied. But put yourself in my place. I don’t know the town or setup well, and there’s murder, and the sheriff’s off somewhere and the D.A.’s gone fishing. My God. Cyanide all over the place, and all that money … but there’s something about that woman … the way she looks at you … she looks honest … and then the way you and the doc and Bart Wayne keep saying she’s innocent … and the way the others ride herd on her … God damn!”
He stood where he was, as if still undecided about his course.
“I’m sure obliged to you for your help. To you both. I want you both to be present in the parlor. You’re a darn sight quicker at shorthand than my deputy, Mrs. Abbott.”
“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t like taking notes in this instance but it was a change for me to sit in on an investigation because I was invited by a policeman! And naturally Patrick would be present anyway, on Seth’s account.