CHAPTER XIV Zizi
"Where is she?" Milly asked of Hester, as, more out of curiosity thanhospitality she went to the kitchen.
"Well! Mis' Landon, I never see such a thing in all my born days! Sheslid out here like she was on roller-skates! 'Hester?' she says, smilin',and with that she settled herself for good and all, 'sif she'd been bornan' brought up here! She slid to the cupboard, and picked out the teacaddy, and took down a little teapot, and in a jiffy, she'd snatched upthe b'ilin' teakettle, and was settin' at that there table, drinkin' hertea! I got her out some cakes, and by then she was a-cuttin' bread an'butter! Never've I seen her like!"
"Did she trouble you?"
"Land, no, ma'am! She waits on herself, but so quick, you'd think she wasa witch!"
"Where is she now?"
"Well, ma'am, she finished her tea, and then she fair scooted up the backstairs. I heard her dart into one or two rooms, and then she took thelittle South gable room for hers. I could hear her stepping about,putting her things away, I make no doubt. She looked in here again, aminute, and said, 'I've chosen that little room with the lattice wallpaper,' and then she disappeared again. That's all I know about her. No,ma'am, she don't trouble me none, and I don't say I don't sort o' take toher. But she's a queer little piece. She is that."
Milly sighed. "Every thing's queer, Hester," she said, broodingly, andthen she went back to the hall.
Wynne Landon sat there alone. His face was grave, and he sighed deeply ashis wife came to him and laid her hand on his shoulder.
"Where's everybody, Wynnsie?" she said cheerily.
"Traipsing over the house, hunting clues! Rotten business, Milly."
"Why? What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. I hope if that man is going to find the criminal, he'll makeshort work of it!"
"So do I, dear, then we can go home, can't we?"
"You bet! Here they are, now,--they seem in good spirits."
The crowd came down the stairs and into the great hall, laughing at somequip of Wise's. Ever since the day of the two deaths a sombre gloom hadpervaded the whole place, and smiles had been few. The sound of laughtercame as a shock to the Landons, but the cheery face of Penny Wisebetokened only wholesome good nature, and not flippant heartlessness.
"Old Montgomery knew how to build a house," he commented, looking at thefinely curving staircase, and its elaborate balusters. "Living roomsnowadays are all very well, but these great entrance halls are finerplaces to congregate. You spend much of your time here, I'm sure. Theworst part is, they're difficult to light properly,--by daylight, I mean.And, you've no electrics here, have you?"
"No," replied Landon, "only kerosene and candles. You see, the place hasbeen unoccupied for years."
"Haunted houses are apt to be,----"
"Reputed haunted houses," corrected the Professor.
"There are no others," and Wise grinned. "All reputed haunted houses havenothing to haunt them but their repute. I mean, the story of their ghostis all the ghost they have."
"But I _saw_ the ghost here," and Eve spoke with a quiet dignity thatdefied contradiction.
"Of course you did," Wise assented. "The ghost came purposely to beseen."
"Did you ever see one, Mr. Wise?"
"I never did, Miss Carnforth, I never hope to see one! But I can tell youanyhow, I'd rather see than be one."
"Oh, of course, if you're going to take that tone," and Eve turned away,decidedly offended.
"Sorry!" and Wise flashed a smile at her. "But, you see, a detectivecan't afford to believe in ghosts. We make our living solving mysteries,and to say, 'It was the ghost! You're right, it was the ghost!' is by wayof begging the question."
"Then you think the phantoms that appeared to some of us were reallyhuman beings?" asked Tracy, interestedly.
"I sure do."
"And you propose to find out who and how?" said Braye.
"If I live up to my reputation, I must do so. There are but two kinds ofdetectives. Effective detectives and defective detectives. It is the aimof my life to belong to the former class, and here's my chance to makegood. Now, I've examined the upper floors, I'll look over this hall andthe ground floor rooms. Shall I have time before dinner, Mrs. Landon?"
His charm and pleasant personality had already won Milly's liking and shesaid, cordially, "Yes, indeed, Mr. Wise. And if you wish, we'll delaydinner to suit your pleasure."
"Not at all. Done in a few minutes. Stunning hall, eh, Zizi?"
"Yes," said the thin little voice of the thin little girl, and Millysuddenly realized that Zizi was present with the crowd.
The graceful little figure stepped forward and stood at Wise's side as helooked the hall over. He tapped at the panelled walls, and smiled as hesaid, "Solid and intact. No secret passage or sliding panel,--of that I'msure."
"If you're trying to find a secret entrance into the house, Mr. Wise,"Landon said, "you are wasting your time. I am more or lessarchitecturally inclined, and I've tapped and sounded and measured andcalculated,--and I can assure you there's nothing of the sort."
"Good work! That saves me some trouble, I'm sure. Marvellous work onthese doors, eh? And the bronze columns,--from abroad, I take it."
"Yes;" Professor Hardwick said, slapping his hand against one of thefluted bronze pillars, "I admire these columns more than the doors even.They're unique, I don't wonder their owner 'built a house behind them.' Idoubt if their match is in America."
"And the locks and bolts are as ponderous as the doors," commented thedetective. "Eh, Zizi?"
"They are like that all over the house," said the girl, in a casual tone."Even the kitchen quarters are as securely fastened and bolted. Andupstairs, any doors that give on balconies are strongly guarded. I havenever seen a house more carefully looked after in the matter ofbarricades."
The girl spoke slowly, as if on the witness stand. Then suddenly herblack eyes twinkled, and she turned sharply toward Eve, saying, "Oh, do_you_ do that, too?"
"Do what?" cried Eve, angrily. "What do you mean?"
"Scribble notes, and pass 'em to somebody. I do, too. It's a habit Ican't seem to break myself of."
"I didn't!" and Eve's face flushed and her eyes glittered with asmouldering fire.
"Oh, tra la la," trilled Zizi, and nonchalantly turned away.
"Now for the Room with the Tassels," said Wise, and led the way to thefateful room.
"Ghastly, ghostly and grisly!" he declared after a quick survey, "but noentrance except by door or windows."
"And they were locked every time the room was slept in by any of ourparty," announced the Professor, positively.
"That makes it easier," smiled Wise. "You see, I feared secret panels andthat sort of thing,--not uncommon in old houses. But you've found none?"
"None," asseverated Landon. "If your theory of a human 'ghost' is right,you've got to account for the forcing of the big bolts of those frontdoors or----"
"Or suspect some of your household," concluded Wise, practically. "Well,I haven't suspected any one as yet; I'm just absorbing facts, on which tobase my theories. Now, for the drawing room."
The long sombre, old-fashioned room received scant examination.
"Nothing doing, Zizi?" said Wise, briefly.
"Only a Bad Taste Exhibition," the girl remarked, making a wry face atthe ornate decorations and appointments. Then, with her peculiar, glidingmotion, she slid across the hall again, and examined the knob and lock onthe door of the Room with the Tassels.
"Fascinating room," she said, with a glance round it. "But horrible," andher thin shoulders shrugged. "Those tassels are enough to make a hencross the road!"
Milly giggled, and for the first time since the day of the tragedies.
Dinner was rather pleasant than otherwise. The detective, laying asideall thought or talk of his purpose there, was entertaining and evenmerry. He spoke somewhat of himself, and it transpired that he was anartist,--an illustra
tor of current magazine stories.
"And Zizi is my model," he informed them, "that is, when I want a thin,scarecrow type. I don't use her for the average peach heroine. Look outZiz, don't eat too much of that potato puff! You see, if she puts on abit of flesh, she runs straight back to the movie studios."
"Ah, a film star?" said Braye.
"Not a star," and Wise shook his head. "But a good little actress for abrat part."
Zizi flashed an amused smile from her black eyes and partook again of theforbidden potato puff.
"Zizi! For the love of Mike!" expostulated Wise.
"The love of Mike is the root of all evil," said Zizi, saucily; "butthen, everything is."
"Is what?" asked Eve, interested against her will in this strange child.
"Is the root of all evil," was the calm reply.
"Whew! this must be an evil old world!" exclaimed Braye.
"And isn't it?" Zizi flashed back, her big eyes sparkling like liquidjet.
"Are you a pessimist, little one?" asked the Professor, studying theclever, eerie face.
"Nay, nay, Pauline," and the small, pointed chin was raised a bit. "Notso, but far otherwise."
"Then why do you think the world is evil?"
"Ah, sir, when one spends one's life between a Moving Picture Studio anda popular artist's studio, one learns much that one had better leftunlearnt."
The child face suddenly looked ages old, and then, as suddenly broke intoa gay smile: "Don't ask me these things," she said, "ask Penny Wise. I'monly his Pound Foolish."
"You'll put on another foolish pound if you eat any more of thatdessert," growled Wise, scowling at her.
"All right, I won't," and the slender little fingers laid down theteaspoon Zizi was using. Then, in an audible aside, she added, "Hesterwill give me more, later," and chuckled like a naughty child.
The next morning Pennington Wise set about his work in earnest. "I'mgoing to East Dryden," he announced. "I want to interview the doctors,also Mr. Stebbins. I don't mind saying frankly, this is the deepestmystery I have ever encountered. If any of you here can help me, I begyou will do so, for the case looks well-nigh hopeless. Ah, there, Zizi."
The girl appeared, ready to go with Wise in the motor car. She wore asmall black hat with an oriole's wing in it, and a full-draped blackcape, whose flutterings disclosed an orange-coloured lining.Inconspicuous, save when the cape's lining showed, Zizi lookeddistinguished and smartly costumed. A small black veil, delicatelyadjusted, clouded her sharp little features, and she sprang into the carwithout help, and nestled into a corner of the tonneau.
Only a chauffeur accompanied them, and he could not hear the conversationcarried on in low tones.
"What about it, Ziz?" murmured Wise, as they passed the aspen grove andthe black lake.
"Awful doings," she returned, merely breathing the words. "The Eve girlhas a secret, too."
"Too?"
"Yes, she isn't the criminal, you know."
"I don't know."
"Well, you will know. She's a queer mechanism, but she never killedanybody."
"Sure, Zizi?"
"Sure, oh, Wise Guy. Now, who did do it?"
"Well, who did?"
"We don't know yet, and we mustn't theorize without data, you know."
"Rats! I always theorize without data. And I've never failed to corralthe data."
"You're a deuce of a deducer, you are!"
"And you're a She Sherlock, I suppose! Well, oh, Mine of Wisdom, goahead. Spill it to me."
"Can't now. I've lost my place! But, after a few more interviews withsome few more interested parties, I may, perhaps, possibly, maybe,--oh,Penny, look back at the house from here! Did you _ever_ see such a weird,wild spook-pit!"
Black Aspens did indeed look repellent. No one was in sight, and thegrove of black, waving trees, mirrored in the deep black shadows of thelake gave it all a doomed effect that the dull, leaden sky intensified.
The grim old house seemed the right abode for evil spirits or uneasywraiths, and Zizi, fascinated by the still scene continued to gazebackward until a turn of the road hid it from view.
Then she became silent, and would vouchsafe no answer to Wise's questionsor make any remarks of her own.
During the interview between the detective and Elijah Stebbins, she saidalmost nothing, her big eyes staring at the owner of Black Aspens, untilthe old man writhed in discomfort.
"How did you get in?" she shot at him, as he frankly admitted hisharmless tricks to give his tenants their desired interest in his house.
"I _was_ in, miss," Stebbins said, nervously twisting his fingers; "Istaid 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 verybrain, "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 overlookedwindow.
"There's heaps of windows in that house," he declared. "Land, I could getin 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 soincensed the old man that he shook with fury.
"You don't know!" he cried, "'cause there's nothin' to know! Land! Allthem folks up there has hunted the place for secret entrances, and Iruther 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,--andthat's all there is about that!"
Zizi said nothing, having returned to her taciturn role, but the glanceshe 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'sknowledge 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 windaround 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 thefair. Now, are you going to talk, in here at Peterson's, or sit like abump 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 wasexactly 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 drewfrom Peterson his deductions and decisions.
At first, inclined to resent the advent of this all-wise detective, henow began to think that if they could work together, he would shine byreflected glory, that is, if the new chap succeeded in solving themystery, 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 wereharmless and merely in fun. And, too, he has absolute alibis for all thespook appearances after a certain date. And that's the date when thatMiss Carnforth saw a ghost. As near as I can make out, that ghost wasStebbins himself, but no spooks after that was Stebbins' doings. Now, Igive you that straight and simple, Mr. Wise, but it took me a long timeto ferret it out. I suspected it, but I've had hard work to g
et Stebbinsto admit his tricks, and also to check up his alibis after thatparticular night."
"These perfectly attested alibis are sometimes manufactured verycarefully," said Zizi, fixing her black eyes on Peterson.
"Yes, they are. That's why I checked up Eli's so carefully. But they'reall true. I've got an exact list of the spook performances from thepeople at the house. I got the data from different ones, at differenttimes, 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 ownsup to playing ghost, he never did it again."
"Then did he arrange for the Thorpes or one of the waiting-maids to doit?" queried Zizi.
"That I can't say. I think he must have done so, but I can't find a scrapof proof, nor is there any motive. Stebbins is a good old sort and hehonestly wanted to give his tenants the ha'nts, as he calls 'em, thatthey wanted. But why, on this good green earth, he should want to killtwo of them is unanswerable. No, take it from me, Eli Stebbins is nomurderer. I've looked up his record and his life story, and there's noindication that he knew any of these people before they came up here, sohe couldn't have had any old grudge or family feud or anything of thatsort. 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 soundeniably established. I thank you, and I shall be glad of yourcooperation in my further work."
"Good for you, I'll be right down glad to work with you. And this younglady, 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."