CHAPTER V
GRADY TAKES A HAND
I have no very clear remembrance of what happened after that. Theshock was so great that I had just strength enough to totter to achair and drop into it, and sit there staring vaguely at that darksplotch on the carpet. I told myself that I was the victim of adreadful nightmare; that all this was the result of over-wroughtnerves and that I should wake presently. No doubt I had been workingtoo hard. I needed a vacation--well, I would take it....
And all the time I knew that it was not a nightmare, but grimreality; that Philip Vantine was dead--killed by a woman. Who hadtold me that? And then I remembered the sobbing voice....
Two or three persons came into the room--Parks and the otherservants, I suppose; I heard Godfrey's voice giving orders; andfinally someone held a glass to my lips and commanded me to drink. Idid so mechanically; coughed, spluttered, was conscious of a gratefulwarmth, and drank eagerly again. And then I saw Godfrey standing overme.
"Feel better?" he asked.
I nodded.
"I don't wonder it knocked you out," he went on. "I'm feeling shakymyself. I had them call Vantine's physician--but he can't doanything."
"He's dead, then?" I murmured, my eyes on that dark and crumpledobject which had been Philip Vantine.
"Yes--just like the other."
Then I remembered, and I caught his arm and drew him down to me.
"Godfrey," I whispered, "whose voice was it--or did I dream it--something about a woman?"
"You didn't dream it--it was Rogers--he's almost hysterical. We'llget the story, as soon as he quiets down."
Someone called him from the door, and he turned away, leaving mestaring blankly at nothing. So there had been a woman in Vantine'slife! Perhaps that was why he had never married. What ugly skeletonwas to be dragged from its closet?
But if a woman killed Vantine, the same woman also killed d'Aurelle.Where was her hiding-place? From what ambush did she strike?
I glanced about the room, as a tremor of horror seized me. I arose,shaking, from the chair and groped my way toward the door. Godfreyheard me coming, swung around, and, with one glance at my face, cameto me and caught me by the arms.
"What is it, Lester?" he asked.
"I can't stand it here," I gasped. "It's too horrible!"
"Don't think about it. Come out here and have another drink."
He led me into the hall, and a second glass of brandy gave me backsomething of my self-control. I was ashamed of my weakness, but whenI glanced at Godfrey, I saw how white his face was.
"Better take a drink yourself," I said.
I heard the decanter rattle on the glass.
"I don't know when I have been so shaken," he said, setting the glassdown empty. "It was so gruesome--so unexpected--and then Rogerscarrying on like a madman. Ah, here's the doctor," he added, as thefront door opened and Parks showed a man in.
I knew Dr. Hughes, of course, returned his nod, and followed him andGodfrey into the ante-room. But I had not yet sufficiently recoveredto do more than sit and stare at him as he knelt beside the body andassured himself that life had fled. Then I heard Godfrey telling himall we knew, while Hughes listened with incredulous face.
"But it's absurd, you know!" he protested, when Godfrey had finished."Things like this don't happen here in New York. In Florence,perhaps, in the Middle Ages; but not here in the twentieth century!"
"I can scarcely believe my own senses," Godfrey agreed. "But I sawthe Frenchman lying here this afternoon; and now here's Vantine."
"On the same spot?"
"As nearly as I can tell."
"And killed in the same way?"
"Killed in precisely the same way."
Hughes turned back to the body again, and looked long and earnestlyat the injured hand.
"What sort of instrument made this wound, would you say, Mr.Godfrey?" he questioned, at last.
"A sharp instrument, with two prongs. My theory is that the prongsare hollow, like a hypodermic needle, and leave a drop or two ofpoison at the bottom of the wound. You see a vein has been cut."
"Yes," Hughes assented. "It would scarcely be possible to pierce thehand here without striking a vein. One of the prongs would be sure todo it."
"That's the reason there are two of them, I fancy."
"But you are, of course, aware that no poison exists which would actso quickly?" Hughes inquired.
Godfrey looked at him strangely.
"You yourself mentioned Florence a moment ago," he said. "You meant,I suppose, that such a poison did, at one time, exist there?"
"Something of the sort, perhaps," agreed Hughes. "The words werepurely instinctive, but I suppose some such thought was runningthrough my head."
"Well, the poison that existed in Florence five centuries ago, existshere to-day. There's the proof of it," and Godfrey pointed to thebody.
Hughes drew a deep breath of wonder and horror.
"But what sort of devilish instrument is it?" he cried, his nervesgiving way for an instant, his voice mounting shrilly. "Above all,who wields it?"
He stared about the room, as though half-expecting to see some mightyand remorseless arm poised, ready to strike. Then he shook himselftogether.
"I beg pardon," he said, mopping the sweat from his face; "but I'mnot used to this sort of thing; and I'm frightened--yes, I reallybelieve I'm frightened," and he laughed, a little unsteady laugh.
"So am I," said Godfrey; "so is Lester; so is everybody. You needn'tbe ashamed of it."
"What frightens me," went on Hughes, evidently studying his ownsymptoms, "is the mystery of it--there is something supernaturalabout it--something I can't understand. How does it happen that eachof the victims is struck on the right hand? Why not the left hand?Why the hand at all?"
Godfrey answered with a despairing shrug.
"That is what we've got to find out," he said.
"We shall have to call in the police," suggested Hughes. "Maybe theycan solve it."
Godfrey smiled, a little sceptical smile, quickly suppressed.
"At least, they will have to be given the chance," he agreed. "ShallI attend to it?"
"Yes," said Hughes; "and you would better do it right away. Thesooner they get here the better."
"Very well," assented Godfrey, and left the room.
Hughes sat down heavily on the couch near the window, and mopped hisface again, with a shaking hand. Death he was accustomed to--butdeath met decently in bed and resulting from some understood cause.Death in this horrible and mysterious form shook him; he could notunderstand it, and his failure to understand appalled him. He was aphysician; it was his business to understand; and yet here was deathin a form as mysterious to him as to the veriest layman. It compelledhim to pause and take stock of himself--always a disconcertingprocess to the best of us!
That was a trying half hour. Hughes sat on the couch, breathingheavily, staring at the floor, perhaps passing his own ignorance inreview, perhaps wondering if he had always been right in prescribingthis or that. As for me, I was thinking of my dead friend. Iremembered Philip Vantine as I had always known him--a kindly, witty,Christian gentleman. I could see his pleasant eyes looking at me infriendship, as they had looked a few hours before; I could hear hisvoice, could feel the clasp of his hand. That such a man should bekilled like this, struck down by a mysterious assassin, armed with apoisoned weapon....
A woman! Always my mind came back to that. A woman! Poison was awoman's weapon. But who was she? How had she escaped? Where had sheconcealed herself? How was she able to strike so surely? Above all,why should she have chosen Philip Vantine, of all men, for hervictim--Philip Vantine, who had never injured any woman--and then Ipaused. For I realised that I knew nothing of Vantine, except what hehad chosen to tell me. Parks would know. And then I shrank from thethought. Must we probe that secret? Must we compel a man to betrayhis master?
My face was burning. No, we could not do that--that would beabominable....
The door opened and Go
dfrey came in. This time, he was not alone.Simmonds and Goldberger followed him, and their faces showed thatthey were as shaken and nonplussed as I. There was a third man withthem whom I did not know; but I soon found out that it wasFreylinghuisen, the coroner's physician.
They all looked at the body, and Freylinghuisen knelt beside it andexamined the injured hand; then he sat down by Dr. Hughes, and theywere soon deep in a low-toned conversation, whose subject I couldguess. I could also guess what Simmonds and Godfrey were talkingabout in the farther corner; but I could not guess why Goldberger,instead of getting to work, should be walking up and down, pullingimpatiently at his moustache and glancing at his watch now and then.He seemed to be waiting for some one, but not until twenty minuteslater did I suspect who it was. Then the door opened again to admit ashort, heavy-set man, with florid face, stubbly black moustache, andlittle, close-set eyes, preternaturally bright. He glanced about theroom, nodded to Goldberger, and then looked inquiringly at me.
"This is Mr. Lester, Commissioner Grady," said Goldberger, and Irealised that the chief of the detective bureau had come up fromheadquarters to take personal charge of the case.
"Mr. Lester is Mr. Vantine's attorney," the coroner added, inexplanation.
"Glad to know you, Mr. Lester," said Grady, shortly.
"And now, I guess, we're ready to begin," went on the coroner.
"Not quite," said Grady, grimly. "We'll excuse all reporters, first,"and he looked across at Godfrey, his face darkening.
I felt my own face flushing, and started to protest, but Godfreysilenced me with a little gesture.
"It's all right, Lester," he said. "Mr. Grady is quite within hisrights. I'll withdraw--until he sends for me."
"You'll have a long wait, then!" retorted Grady, with a sarcasticlaugh.
"The longer I wait, the worse it will be for you, Mr. Grady," saidGodfrey quietly, opened the door and closed it behind him.
Grady stared after him for a moment in crimson amazement. Then,mastering himself with an effort, he turned to the coroner.
"All right, Goldberger," he said, and sat down to watch theproceedings.
A very few minutes sufficed for Hughes and Freylinghuisen and I totell all we knew of this tragedy and of the one which had precededit. Grady seemed already acquainted with the details of d'Aurelle'sdeath, for he listened without interrupting, only nodding from timeto time.
"You've got a list of the servants here, of course, Simmonds," hesaid, when we had finished the story.
"Yes, sir," and Simmonds handed it to him. "H-m," said Grady, as heglanced it over. "Five of 'em. Know anything about 'em?"
"They've all been with Mr. Vantine a long time, sir," repliedSimmonds. "So far as I've been able to judge, they're all right."
"Which one of 'em found Vantine's body?"
"Parks, I think," I said. "It was he who called me."
"Better have him in," said Grady, and doubled up the list and slippedit into his pocket.
Parks came in looking decidedly shaky; but answered Grady's questionsclearly and concisely. He told first of the events of the afternoon,and then passed on to the evening.
"Mr. Vantine had dinner at home, sir," he said. "It was served, Ithink, at seven o'clock. He must have finished a little afterseven-thirty. I didn't see him, for I was straightening things aroundup in his room and putting his clothes away. But he told Rogers--"
"Never mind what he told Rogers," broke in Grady. "Just tell us whatyou know."
"Very well, sir," said Parks, submissively. "I had a lot of work todo--we just got back from Europe yesterday, you know--and I kept on,putting things in their places and straightening around, and it musthave been half-past eight when I heard Rogers yelling for me. Ithought the house was on fire, and I come down in a hurry. Rogers wasstanding out there in the hall, looking like he'd seen a ghost. Hekind of gasped and pointed to this room, and I looked in and saw Mr.Vantine laying there--"
His voice choked at the words, but he managed to go on, after amoment.
"Then I telephoned for Mr. Lester," he added, "and that's all Iknow."
"Very well," said Grady. "That's all for the present. Send Rogersin."
Rogers's face, as he entered the room, gave me a kind of shock, forit was that of a man on the verge of hysteria. He was a man of aboutfifty, with iron-grey hair, and a smooth-shaven face, ordinarilyruddy with health. But now his face was livid, his cheeks lined andshrunken, his eyes blood-shot and staring. He reeled rather thanwalked into the room, one hand clutching at his throat, as though hewere choking.
"Get him a chair," said Grady, and Simmonds brought one forward andremained standing beside it. "Now, my man," Grady continued, "you'llhave to brace up. What's the matter with you, anyhow? Didn't you eversee a dead man before?"
"It ain't that," gasped Rogers. "It ain't that--though I never saw amurdered man before."
"What?" demanded Grady, sharply. "Didn't you see that fellow thisafternoon?"
"That was different," Rogers moaned. "I didn't know him. Besides, Ithought he'd killed himself. We all thought so."
"And you don't think Vantine did?"
"I know he didn't," and Rogers's voice rose to a shrill scream. "Itwas that woman done it! Damn her! She done it! I knowed she was up tosome crooked work when I let her in!"