CHAPTER XV
A Battle of Wits
I saw the swift spasm of hatred which crossed her face, as sherecognised me; I even fancied that her finger tightened convulsivelyupon the trigger, and I braced myself for the shock. But she did notfire. Instead, she lowered her pistol with a grim little laugh.
"So it's you!" she said, and stood looking at me, her lips curvingmaliciously.
"Yes," I answered. "Who did you think it was?"
"Oh, I don't know. A burglar, perhaps."
"You seem to have been prepared for him."
"I always carry this pistol when I go back and forth through the groundsat night."
"And know how to use it, I dare say."
"I think I'd be able to defend myself."
"I'm sure of it. Do you often go back and forth at night?"
"It's sometimes late when I get through here."
"But this time," I pointed out, "you weren't leaving the house--you werereturning to it."
"Is that any of your business?" she asked, her eyes beginning to gleam.
"Perhaps not," I admitted.
"And yet you're capable of making a mystery out of it!" she sneered."Let me relieve your mind--I'm staying with Mrs. Lawrence. She sleepsbadly, and wishes me near her."
"And your exits and entrances are, I suppose, usually by the window?"
"It's the most convenient way."
"Mrs. Lawrence doesn't object, then, to your leaving it open?"
"I don't leave it open."
"You did just now."
She looked at me a moment without replying, then laughed a short, littlelaugh of mingled amusement and vexation.
"I'll leave you to puzzle that out, I think," she said. "You're soingenious, you'll surely hit upon the explanation. I scarcely expectedto see you here again," she added. "You thought it worth while toreturn?"
"Yes; there are one or two points which are not quite clear."
"And you expect to make them so?" she asked, with a mocking smile. "How?By lurking around the house like a thief, and following women?"
There was something in her tone, her look, her attitude, which caught myattention--a sort of confident triumph, as of one who plays for a highstake and wins. She was no longer anxious and perturbed, as she had beenthe day before--nay, that very morning. She thought it safe to flout meopenly.
"So you convinced Mrs. Lawrence that you and your sister were notguilty?" I asked. "But of course you'd do that!"
"Guilty of what?" she demanded, flushing darkly.
"Guilty of causing Miss Lawrence's flight," I answered bluntly. "Ofwrecking her life."
"Do you believe that?"
"I know it!"
She laughed scornfully.
"You know a great deal, it seems."
"More than you think," I retorted.
She flushed again, and bit her lips to restrain their trembling.
"Though there's one thing I don't know," I went on, determined to strikehome, if I could. "I can't imagine why Miss Lawrence should have chosenyour house as a place of refuge. She must know that you hate her--thatyou waited, like a snake in ambush, for the moment when the blow wouldpierce most deeply; she must see that you are using her to avengeyourself----"
A sharp click interrupted me, and I found myself in darkness. I heardthe closing of a door, the turning of a lock. When, after a moment'sgroping along the wall, I found the electric button and switched on thelight again, I saw that the door leading from the library to the hallwas closed. I tried it--it was locked.
"Good-night, Mr. Lester," called a low mocking voice from the otherside. "Please turn off the light before you go, and close the windowafter you. Another thing--I'd advise you not to disturb my sister againto-night; it would really not be safe. And I hope you'll let me knowwhen you succeed in clearing up those little points you were speakingof--I'm immensely interested in them."
She laughed again, and I heard her footsteps die away down the hall.
Feeling absurdly foolish, I switched off the light, and left the house.Plainly, Lucy Kingdon had ceased to fear me. She believed that she hadwon the fight, that her position was impregnable. Either she thoughtthat Marcia Lawrence had escaped, that we had not traced her to the_Umbria_, or she knew that the telegram was a blind, and that we hadbeen misled by it. Which was right, I wondered. And she must have comeoff well, too, in that interview with Mrs. Lawrence, which I would havegiven so much to have overheard--must have convinced her of herinnocence, else she would not still be employed as a maid in theLawrence house, and retained so near her mistress. How had she done it?How had she succeeded in blinding her mistress so completely?
Then a sudden thought stabbed through me. Was it possible, I askedmyself, that Mrs. Lawrence had been a party to the deception--that shehad knowingly assisted in the farce of the telegram, for my benefit?But, as I reviewed her behaviour at our morning interview, I could notbelieve it. She was no such consummate actress as that would imply. If Iwas a dupe, then she was a dupe also.
Busy with this problem, I made my way through the grove along the pathback to the Kingdon cottage, and stood for a moment looking over thehedge before opening the gate. There was a light in the room which Itook to be the dining-room, but even as I gazed at it, the light moved,a shadow crossed the blind; the light reappeared in the kitchen, fadedand disappeared--then, a moment later, my heart leaped suffocatingly asI perceived a glimmer of light at the ventilator in the foundation! Whatwas this woman doing in the cellar? What was the task that was goingforward there?
I entered the grounds and started forward along the hedge, when suddenlya hand reached up from the shadow and held me fast. For an instant Istruggled fiercely to free myself--but only for an instant.
"Come, Lester, sit down," said a voice carefully repressed, but which Inevertheless recognised as Godfrey's. "I was looking for you," he added,as I dropped to the grass beside him.
"Oh, is it you, Godfrey?" I asked, much relieved. "I rather thought youmight be out this way, when I found you weren't at the hotel. What arethe developments?"
"Wait a minute. I wonder where that light has gone?"
"It's in the cellar," I said, and pointed out to him the faint glimmerwhich marked the ventilator. "It was there last night. I sat here forover an hour and watched it," and I told him briefly of my adventures ofthe night before.
He listened without comment until I had finished.
"It's a pity you didn't tell me that this morning," he said.
"I didn't see that it was connected with the case in any way. Is it?"
"I don't know," he answered slowly. "Perhaps it is. Did Miss Kingdonmention it when she saw you this morning?"
"Yes--she said she'd been in the cellar, putting away some fruit."
"Absurd! There's no fruit this early in the year. Besides, even if itwere true, she wouldn't have to repeat the process again to-night. Whatelse haven't you told me?"
I laughed and recounted my adventures from the moment Mrs. Lawrence gaveme her daughter's telegram until that other moment when Lucy Kingdonleft me alone in the darkened library.
He listened without interruption, his eyes on the glimmer of light atthe ventilator.
"Yes," he said, "I saw Lucy Kingdon leave the house a few minutes ago.Her sister's alone there now. What do you suppose she's doing in thecellar?"
"I can't imagine."
"You could see nothing?"
"Not a thing except her shadow moving back and forth."
"Moving back and forth?"
"Yes; it seemed to me that she was alternately rising and stooping, asthough she were going through some sort of exercise."
"She'd hardly go into the cellar at midnight to exercise."
"No, of course not. But that's the only explanation I could think of,unless she's bowing up and down before an idol."
Godfrey laughed grimly.
"That would be a unique solution," he said. "Fancy our headlines: 'DevilWorship at Elizabeth! Fantastic Midnight Orgies in a Cellar!
' Wouldn'tthat stir the public? But I'm afraid it's a little too fantastic. Couldyou hear anything?"
"Only the faintest of faint sounds. I couldn't make anything of them."
"Well, there wouldn't be any sounds at all if she were merely bobbing upand down before an idol. Was she alone last night?"
"Yes. Her sister spent the night with Mrs. Lawrence. Godfrey," I added,"you haven't told me yet why you sent that telegram. Has Miss Lawrencereturned?"
"Not that I know of. Furthermore, I don't think she will return verysoon."
"Then you think she really sailed?"
"I think--I don't know what to think, Lester. Give me a moment more.Isn't there a window to the cellar?"
"Yes, but it's closely curtained."
"Well, I'm going to take a look, myself," he said. "Wait here for me,and be as patient as you can."
I saw him go cautiously forward toward the ventilator, and stoop downbefore it. He remained there motionless for some moments, thendisappeared around a corner of the house. I sat there waiting for him,thinking not without some chagrin, that, as usual, he had pumped me dry,and given nothing in return. It was really unfair of Godfrey to expectevery one to play into his hands. And yet, I reflected, if he hadn'twanted to be friendly, he would scarcely have taken the trouble to sendme that message.
I looked up to see his tall figure coming toward me through thedarkness. He dropped beside me, and sat for a moment silent--only, as Icaught a glimpse of his face, I was startled to see how white it was.
"I couldn't see a thing," he said, at last, "except a shadow moving upand down, as you said. And I heard the sounds. The woman is working atsomething in the cellar--something that requires time--something whichmust be done secretly. I couldn't make anything out of the shadows, andnot much out of the sounds--at least, I fear it's only my imaginationwhich gave them the significance they had for me."
"What significance did they have?" I asked.
"I'm half afraid to tell you, Lester; you'll laugh at me. But as I bentoutside that ventilator yonder with my ear against it, I could havesworn that the person inside was engaged in shovelling earth--shovellingit into--a grave!"
A little shudder ran through me at the words; never was laughter fartherfrom my thoughts.
"A grave!" I stammered. "But whose grave?"
"I don't know--Marcia Lawrence's, perhaps."
"Marcia Lawrence sailed on the _Umbria_."
"You don't know she did. You don't even believe she did."
"Whether she did or not, who would kill her, and why?"
"Ah, if you come to the why and wherefore, I can't answer you--not yet."
"Besides," I went on, "the writing on the message left at the WestStreet office was her writing."
"Perhaps it was only a good imitation--you can't be absolutely sure thatyou've ever seen a sample of her writing. There's nothing to prove thatshe wrote either the note or the message."
"But Curtiss identified them--he was sure the writing was hers."
"Curtiss wasn't in a condition to be sure of anything. But suppose itwas hers. She may have wished to blind her mother and Curtisscompletely--she may have wished them to think that she had really goneabroad--she must have foreseen that you would trace the telegram. Shemay have done all that before she came back here----"
"Came back here?" I repeated, suddenly finding a dozen arguments againstmy own theory of half an hour before. "Walk into the lion's jaws?Nonsense, Godfrey! Place herself in the power of the people who, Isuppose you think, killed her!"
"I don't think they killed her," Godfrey said composedly. "My belief isthat she killed herself to escape her husband--to get out of the tanglein which she'd involved herself."
"Her husband! You cling to the husband then, do you?"
"More than ever. He's an Italian--a tall, well-built, handsome fellow,with black eyes and a most becoming black moustache. He has a floridcomplexion and can speak English, though with a strong accent. He smokescigarettes, which he rolls himself, and he has lost the tip of thelittle finger of his left hand. He's fond of music; perhaps himself asinger or musician, and it may have been as instructor that he first metMiss Lawrence----"
I had been staring at Godfrey open-mouthed; I could restrain myself nolonger.
"But how do you know all this?" I gasped. "Or is it merely a fairytale?"
"It's not in the least a fairy tale, my dear Lester. I know it becausethis estimable gentleman was himself in Elizabeth yesterday. The letterwhich Miss Lawrence received appointed a rendezvous at the Kingdoncottage. It was here she fled to see him--to buy him off, as she haddone once before."