The Circular Staircase
CHAPTER IV
WHERE IS HALSEY?
Gertrude gazed at the face in a kind of fascination. Then she put outher hands blindly, and I thought she was going to faint.
"He has killed him!" she muttered almost inarticulately; and at that,because my nerves were going, I gave her a good shake.
"What do you mean?" I said frantically. There was a depth of grief andconviction in her tone that was worse than anything she could havesaid. The shake braced her, anyhow, and she seemed to pull herselftogether. But not another word would she say: she stood gazing down atthat gruesome figure on the floor, while Liddy, ashamed of her flightand afraid to come back alone, drove before her three terrifiedwomen-servants into the drawing-room, which was as near as any of themwould venture.
Once in the drawing-room, Gertrude collapsed and went from one faintingspell into another. I had all I could do to keep Liddy from drowningher with cold water, and the maids huddled in a corner, as much use asso many sheep. In a short time, although it seemed hours, a car camerushing up, and Anne Watson, who had waited to dress, opened the door.Three men from the Greenwood Club, in all kinds of costumes, hurriedin. I recognized a Mr. Jarvis, but the others were strangers.
"What's wrong?" the Jarvis man asked--and we made a strange picture, nodoubt. "Nobody hurt, is there?" He was looking at Gertrude.
"Worse than that, Mr. Jarvis," I said. "I think it is murder."
At the word there was a commotion. The cook began to cry, and Mrs.Watson knocked over a chair. The men were visibly impressed.
"Not any member of the family?" Mr. Jarvis asked, when he had got hisbreath.
"No," I said; and motioning Liddy to look after Gertrude, I led the waywith a lamp to the card-room door. One of the men gave an exclamation,and they all hurried across the room. Mr. Jarvis took the lamp fromme--I remember that--and then, feeling myself getting dizzy andlight-headed, I closed my eyes. When I opened them their briefexamination was over, and Mr. Jarvis was trying to put me in a chair.
"You must get up-stairs," he said firmly, "you and Miss Gertrude, too.This has been a terrible shock. In his own home, too."
I stared at him without comprehension. "Who is it?" I asked withdifficulty. There was a band drawn tight around my throat.
"It is Arnold Armstrong," he said, looking at me oddly, "and he hasbeen murdered in his father's house."
After a minute I gathered myself together and Mr. Jarvis helped me intothe living-room. Liddy had got Gertrude up-stairs, and the two strangemen from the club stayed with the body. The reaction from the shockand strain was tremendous: I was collapsed--and then Mr. Jarvis askedme a question that brought back my wandering faculties.
"Where is Halsey?" he asked.
"Halsey!" Suddenly Gertrude's stricken face rose before me the emptyrooms up-stairs. Where was Halsey?
"He was here, wasn't he?" Mr. Jarvis persisted. "He stopped at theclub on his way over."
"I--don't know where he is," I said feebly.
One of the men from the club came in, asked for the telephone, and Icould hear him excitedly talking, saying something about coroners anddetectives. Mr. Jarvis leaned over to me.
"Why don't you trust me, Miss Innes?" he said. "If I can do anything Iwill. But tell me the whole thing."
I did, finally, from the beginning, and when I told of Jack Bailey'sbeing in the house that night, he gave a long whistle.
"I wish they were both here," he said when I finished. "Whatever madprank took them away, it would look better if they were here.Especially--"
"Especially what?"
"Especially since Jack Bailey and Arnold Armstrong were notoriously badfriends. It was Bailey who got Arnold into trouble lastspring--something about the bank. And then, too--"
"Go on," I said. "If there is anything more, I ought to know."
"There's nothing more," he said evasively. "There's just one thing wemay bank on, Miss Innes. Any court in the country will acquit a manwho kills an intruder in his house, at night. If Halsey--"
"Why, you don't think Halsey did it!" I exclaimed. There was a queerfeeling of physical nausea coming over me.
"No, no, not at all," he said with forced cheerfulness. "Come, MissInnes, you're a ghost of yourself and I am going to help you up-stairsand call your maid. This has been too much for you."
Liddy helped me back to bed, and under the impression that I was indanger of freezing to death, put a hot-water bottle over my heart andanother at my feet. Then she left me. It was early dawn now, and fromvoices under my window I surmised that Mr. Jarvis and his companionswere searching the grounds. As for me, I lay in bed, with everyfaculty awake. Where had Halsey gone? How had he gone, and when?Before the murder, no doubt, but who would believe that? If either heor Jack Bailey had heard an intruder in the house and shot him--as theymight have been justified in doing--why had they run away? The wholething was unheard of, outrageous, and--impossible to ignore.
About six o'clock Gertrude came in. She was fully dressed, and I satup nervously.
"Poor Aunty!" she said. "What a shocking night you have had!" She cameover and sat down on the bed, and I saw she looked very tired and worn.
"Is there anything new?" I asked anxiously.
"Nothing. The car is gone, but Warner"--he is the chauffeur--"Warneris at the lodge and knows nothing about it."
"Well," I said, "if I ever get my hands on Halsey Innes, I shall notlet go until I have told him a few things. When we get this clearedup, I am going back to the city to be quiet. One more night like thelast two will end me. The peace of the country--fiddle sticks!"
Whereupon I told Gertrude of the noises the night before, and thefigure on the veranda in the east wing. As an afterthought I broughtout the pearl cuff-link.
"I have no doubt now," I said, "that it was Arnold Armstrong the nightbefore last, too. He had a key, no doubt, but why he should steal intohis father's house I can not imagine. He could have come with mypermission, easily enough. Anyhow, whoever it was that night, leftthis little souvenir."
Gertrude took one look at the cuff-link, and went as white as thepearls in it; she clutched at the foot of the bed, and stood staring.As for me, I was quite as astonished as she was.
"Where did--you--find it?" she asked finally, with a desperate effortat calm. And while I told her she stood looking out of the window witha look I could not fathom on her face. It was a relief when Mrs.Watson tapped at the door and brought me some tea and toast. The cookwas in bed, completely demoralized, she reported, and Liddy, brave withthe daylight, was looking for footprints around the house. Mrs. Watsonherself was a wreck; she was blue-white around the lips, and she hadone hand tied up.
She said she had fallen down-stairs in her excitement. It was natural,of course, that the thing would shock her, having been the Armstrongs'housekeeper for several years, and knowing Mr. Arnold well.
Gertrude had slipped out during my talk with Mrs. Watson, and I dressedand went down-stairs. The billiard and card-rooms were locked untilthe coroner and the detectives got there, and the men from the club hadgone back for more conventional clothing.
I could hear Thomas in the pantry, alternately wailing for Mr. Arnold,as he called him, and citing the tokens that had precursed the murder.The house seemed to choke me, and, slipping a shawl around me, I wentout on the drive. At the corner by the east wing I met Liddy. Herskirts were draggled with dew to her knees, and her hair was still incrimps.
"Go right in and change your clothes," I said sharply. "You're asight, and at your age!"
She had a golf-stick in her hand, and she said she had found it on thelawn. There was nothing unusual about it, but it occurred to me that agolf-stick with a metal end might have been the object that hadscratched the stairs near the card-room. I took it from her, and senther up for dry garments. Her daylight courage and self-importance, andher shuddering delight in the mystery, irritated me beyond words.After I left her I made a circuit of the buildin
g. Nothing seemed tobe disturbed: the house looked as calm and peaceful in the morning sunas it had the day I had been coerced into taking it. There was nothingto show that inside had been mystery and violence and sudden death.
In one of the tulip beds back of the house an early blackbird waspecking viciously at something that glittered in the light. I picked myway gingerly over through the dew and stooped down: almost buried inthe soft ground was a revolver! I scraped the earth off it with thetip of my shoe, and, picking it up, slipped it into my pocket. Notuntil I had got into my bedroom and double-locked the door did Iventure to take it out and examine it. One look was all I needed. Itwas Halsey's revolver. I had unpacked it the day before and put it onhis shaving-stand, and there could be no mistake. His name was on asmall silver plate on the handle.
I seemed to see a network closing around my boy, innocent as I knew hewas. The revolver--I am afraid of them, but anxiety gave me courage tolook through the barrel--the revolver had still two bullets in it. Icould only breathe a prayer of thankfulness that I had found therevolver before any sharp-eyed detective had come around.
I decided to keep what clues I had, the cuff-link, the golf-stick andthe revolver, in a secure place until I could see some reason fordisplaying them. The cuff-link had been dropped into a little filigreebox on my toilet table. I opened the box and felt around for it. Thebox was empty--the cuff-link had disappeared!