The Curved Blades

  IV A PAPER SNAKE

  On the third floor was the bedroom of the maid, Estelle, and before itslocked door stood Pauline and Anita, demanding admittance. There was noresponse from inside, until Pauline said sternly, "Unless you open thisdoor at once, Estelle, the police will force it open."

  The key turned, the door moved slowly ajar, and Estelle's face appeared,wearing an expression of amazement.

  "What is it you say, Miss Pauline? The police? Why?"

  The maid was making a very evident effort to appear composed, and wassucceeding wonderfully well. Her eyes were reddened with weeping,--acondition which a hasty dabbing of powder had not concealed. She wasnervously trembling, but her air of injured innocence, if assumed, wasadmirable.

  "Estelle," and Pauline loomed tall and magnificent as an accusing angel,"what do you know of your mistress' death?"

  Estelle gave a shriek and threw herself on her bed in apparent hysterics.

  "Don't begin that!" ordered Pauline, "sit up here and tell the truth."

  "But," and the maid sat up, sobbing, "I know nothing. How can I?"

  "Nonsense! You took the tea-tray to her at eight o'clock. What did yousee?"

  Estelle shrugged her shoulders. "I saw Miss Carrington sitting before hermirror. She, I assumed, was engrossed in reverie, so I set down the trayon a tabouret and departed."

  "You noticed nothing amiss?" said Anita, staring at the girl.

  "No; I scarce looked at the lady. She reproved me harshly last night, andI had no wish to annoy her. I set down the tray with haste and silentlydeparted."

  "You set it down? Who, then, overturned it?"

  "Overturned? Is it then upset?" Estelle's manner was the impersonal oneof the trained servant, who must show surprise at nothing, but it was atrifle overdone.

  "Estelle, stop posing. Wake up to realities. Miss Carrington is dead! Doyou hear? Dead!"

  "Ah! _Mon Dieu_! Did it then kill her?" and Estelle's calm gave way andshe screamed and moaned in wild hysterics.

  "What can we do with her?" asked Anita, helplessly; "she must know allabout the--the----"

  "The murder," said Pauline calmly. "But she will tell us nothing. It isuseless to question her. The Coroner will attend to it, anyway."

  "The Coroner," and Anita looked frightened. "Will he question all of us?"

  "Of course he will. And, Anita," Pauline whirled on her suddenly, "whatare you going to say was the errand that took you to Aunt Lucy's roomafter one o'clock last night?"

  "I! Nothing of the sort! I was not in her room after we left ittogether."

  "I saw you. Don't trouble to deny it," and Pauline dropped her eyelids asone bored by a conversation.

  "You did!" and Anita's flower face turned rosy pink and her blue eyesblazed with an intensity that Pauline's dark ones could never match. "Becareful, Pauline Stuart, or I shall tell what _I_ know! You _dare_ tomake up such a story! It was _I_ who saw _you_ come from your aunt's roomat a late hour! What have you to say now?"

  "Nothing--to you," and Pauline swept from the room and returned slowlydown the stairway to the second floor.

  The sight of two police officers in the hall gave her a sudden start. Howhad they appeared, so soon? And how dreadful to see them in the palatialhome that had heretofore housed only gentle-mannered aristocrats andobsequious liveried servants! The men looked ill at ease as they stoodagainst the rich background of tapestry hangings and tropical palms, buttheir faces showed a stern appreciation of their duty, and they looked atPauline with deferential but acute scrutiny.

  Not noticing them in any way, the girl, her head held high, went straightto her aunt's room. Sergeant Flake was in charge, and he refused heradmission.

  "Coroner's orders, ma'am," he said; "he'll be here himself shortly, andthen you can see him."

  "Come away, Pauline," and Haviland appeared and took her by the arm;"where's Anita?"

  "I left her in Estelle's room. Oh Gray, that girl----"

  "Hush!" and gripping her firmly, Haviland led her to a small sitting roomand shut the door. "Now listen, Pauline; mind what I say. Don't give theleast bit of information or express the slightest notion of opinionexcept to the chief authorities. And not to them until they ask you. Thisis a terrible affair, and a mighty strange one."

  "Who did it, Gray?"

  "Never you mind. Don't even ask questions. The very walls have ears!"

  "Who upset that breakfast tray?"

  "Estelle, of course."

  "She says she didn't."

  "She lies. Everybody will lie; why, Pauline, you must lie yourself."

  "I won't do it! I have no reason to!"

  "You may find that you have. But, at least, Pauline, I beg of you, thatyou will keep your mouth shut. There will be developments soon,--theremust be,--and then we will know what to do."

  The two returned to the boudoir. At first glance it seemed to be full ofmen. The beautiful room, with its ornate but harmonious furnishings andappointments of the Marie Antoinette period, was occupied with eagerrepresentatives of the law and justice hunting for any indication of theruthless hand that had felled the owner of all that elegance.

  Coroner Scofield was receiving the report of Doctor Moore, who hadarrived with him.

  Dr. Moore agreed with Dr. Stanton that the deceased had been struck witha heavy weapon that had fractured the skull, but he admitted the woundsshowed some strange conditions which could only be explained by furtherinvestigation.

  The Coroner was deep in thought as he studied the face of the dead woman.

  "It is most mysterious," he declared; "that face is almost smiling! it isthe face of a happy woman. Clearly, she did not know of her approachingfate."

  "The blow was struck from behind," informed Dr. Moore.

  "Even so, why didn't she see the approach of the assailant in the mirror?She is looking straight into the large glass,--must have been looking init at the moment of her death. _Why_ receive that death blow without atremor of fear or even a glance of startled inquiry?"

  Inspector Brunt stood by, gravely, and for the most part silently,watching and listening.

  "That might imply," he said, slowly, "that if she did see the assailant,it was some one she knew, and of whom she had no fear."

  Gray Haviland looked up suddenly. A deep red spread over his face andthen, seeing himself narrowly watched by the detectives present, he sethis lips firmly together and said no word.

  Pauline turned white and trembled, but she too said nothing.

  "Why is she sitting in this large easy chair?" went on the Coroner; "Isit not customary for ladies at their dressing tables to use a lightside-chair?"

  This showed decidedly astute perception, and the Inspector lookedinterestedly at the chair in question, which he had not especiallynoticed before.

  Being tacitly appealed to by the Coroner's inquiring eyes, Paulinereplied: "It is true that my aunt usually sat at her dressing-table in asmall chair,--that one, in fact," and she pointed to a dainty chair ofgilded cane. "I have no idea why she should choose the heavy, cushionedone."

  "It would seem," the Coroner mused, "as if she might have sat down thereto admire the effect of her belongings rather than to arrange her hair ortoilette."

  Absorbedly, all present watched Coroner Scofield's movements.

  It was true, the quietly reposeful attitude of the still figure leaningback against the brocaded upholstery, and so evidently looking in thegreat gold-framed mirror, was that of one admiring or criticising her ownappearance. Added to this, the fact of her bizarre costume and strangeadornments, it seemed certain that Miss Carrington had come to her deathwhile innocently happy in the feminine employment of dressing up in theelaborate finery that she loved.

  But the snake!

  Carefully Coroner Scofield removed the inexplicable thing. He held it upthat all might see. A Japanese paper snake, a cheap toy, such as is foundtogether with fans and lanterns in the Oriental department of largeshops.
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  "Could this have been placed round her neck after death?" Scofieldinquired of the doctors.

  The two physicians agreed, that though that was possible, yet theappearance of the flesh beneath it seemed to indicate its havingencircled the throat during life.

  "Never!" cried Pauline, excitedly. "Aunt Lucy _couldn't_ have sat thereand _smiled_, with a snake anywhere near her!"

  "That would seem so," and Dr. Stanton nodded his head. "I well know of mylate patient's aversion to snakes. It amounted almost to a mania! It isnot an uncommon one, many women feel the same, though seldom to so greatan extent."

  "That deepens the mystery," said Coroner Scofield; "unless, indeed, thesnake was put on after the crime. But that is even more mysterious. Ishall now remove these valuable jewels, and give them to----"

  He looked inquiringly at Haviland and Pauline, and the latter immediatelyresponded: "Give them to me, Mr. Scofield. I am now mistress here."

  Haviland said nothing, but he looked at Pauline as if in disapproval.

  "Is this of great worth?" inquired Scofield, as he carefully removed thescarf from the shoulders it surrounded.

  "Only moderately so," returned Pauline. "It is a Syrian scarf and wassent to her by her nephew who lives in Egypt. It is not new, he sentseveral to us about a year ago."

  She took the long, heavy, white and silver drapery, and laid it in anearby wardrobe. Then the Coroner unfastened the large pearls from theirplace as eardrops, and taking up one lifeless hand removed its rings. Allthese he handed to Pauline without a word.

  "What is this?" he exclaimed suddenly; and opening the curled-up fingersof the other hand he drew forth a crumpled gray object. It was a glove,of soft suede, and so tightly had it been held that it was deeplycreased.

  "A man's glove!" said the Coroner, smoothing it out. "Will the wonders ofthis case never cease?"

  He scrutinized it, but remarking only that it was of medium size andsuperior quality, he laid it carefully aside for the time.

  From the same arm he removed the scarab bracelet, also handing that toPauline.

  "The lady was fond of Oriental jewelry," he observed.

  "Yes," returned Haviland, before Pauline could speak. "Her nephew sent orbrought home much of it. But, as we informed you, Miss Carrington wasalso wearing pearls and diamonds of enormous value, compared to whichthese trinkets are as nothing."

  "But scarabs, I am told, are of great price."

  "Some are," returned Haviland. "That bracelet, however, is not genuine,nor of great value."

  Then the Coroner, with delicate touch, removed the bits of brokentortoise-shell from the puffs of hair, and carefully laid them togetheron a small silver tray he appropriated from the dressing-table litter.

  "I think," said Inspector Brunt, in his grave, slow way, "that it will bewise to photograph the whole picture from several points of view beforethe autopsy is performed."

  Arrangements had been made for this, and Detective Hardy, a young manfrom Headquarters, stepped forward with his camera.

  As those who were asked to left the room, Pauline and Gray went outtogether, and met Anita just outside in the hall.

  "Oh, tell me, Gray! Who did it? What does it all mean?" she cried, andgrasped him by the arm.

  "Tell her about it, Gray," said Pauline, and leaving the two together,she went swiftly along the hall to her own room.

  The alert eyes of the guarding policemen followed her, but also theyfollowed the movements of every one else, and if they had, as yet, anysuspicions, no one knew of them.

  Meantime, the gruesome work of photography went on.

  Surely never was such a strange subject for the camera! Denuded of herjewels, but still robed in her gorgeous dressing-gown, and still leaningback in her luxurious arm-chair, with that strange smile of happyexpectancy, Miss Lucy Carrington presented the same air of regalauthority she had always worn in life. Her eyes were widely staring, butthere was no trace or hint of fear in her peaceful attitude of repose.

  "There's no solution!" said Inspector Brunt, deeply thoughtful. "No onecould or would crack a skull like that, but an experienced andprofessional burglar and housebreaker. And such a one could have but onemotive, robbery, and the jewels were not stolen!"

  "Inside job," observed Scofield, briefly, his eyes on his work.

  "Maybe the burglar was frightened away at the critical moment."

  "No. Whatever frightened him would be known to some member of thefamily."

  "Maybe it is."

  "Hey? Have you a theory?" and the Coroner looked up suddenly.

  "Anything but! There's no _possible_ theory that will fit the facts."

  "Except the truth."

  "Yes, except the truth. But it will be long before we find that, I'mafraid. It strikes me it's at the bottom of an unusually deep well."

  "Well, you'd _better_ find it. It'd be a nice how d'y' do for you to falldown on _this_ case!"

  "There's no falling down been done yet. And it may well be that the veryfact of there being such strange and irreconcilable conditions shallprove a help rather than a hindrance."

  And then, all being in readiness, the lifeless form of Miss Carrington,once the proud domineering autocrat, now laid low, was borne to a distantroom, for the autopsy that might cast a further light on the mystery ofher tragic death.