The Almost Perfect Murder Part 13

The plan of the house was simple. On the first floor above the street there was a superb central hall with a peristyle of tall marble columns. The staircase swept on up behind the columns. In the front was an immense salon; in the rear a dining-room. The doors of the salon stood open and there was no seance going on in there. It could hardly be in the dining-room, so we kept on up.

The next floor was devoted to Mrs. Julian's personal suite; boudoir, bedroom, dressing-rooms and so forth. All the doors giving on the hall were closed. From behind a door in the front came the steady drone of a single voice--a disquieting sound. Mme. Storey made unhesitatingly for that door, and opened it. The butler had faded away.

II The room was dark except for a patch of uncertain light towards the left. I had an impression of several motionless figures sitting around, and I saw a ghastly distorted face in the dim light. It seemed to have no body. It made my blood run cold. I almost cried out, though I guessed there was trickery in it.

The voice ceased when we opened the door. There was a silence, then Mrs. Julian's voice, sharp and angry, demanding: "Who is it? How dare you come in here?"

"Sorry, Aline," said Mme. Storey calmly. "I had to speak to you."

Mrs. Julian did not instantly recognise the voice. She continued to cry: "Get out! Get out!" The strange figure in the middle of the room broke in sulkily: "It is useless. Everything is spoiled now. You had better turn on the light."

Mme. Storey pressed the switch which was beside the door, and the lights flooded on. The room was Mrs. Julian's boudoir, and it presented a very odd scene. When I say the house had no character I should except the boudoir. That had plenty of character--of the wrong sort. A sea of baby-blue brocade with a foam of lace upon it. One might have guessed at a glance that this room expressed the soul of an elephantine blonde woman of fifty-odd.

To the left stood an elegant little lacquer table with a carved teak-wood stand upon it supporting in turn a crystal globe. This was a beautiful object, reflecting as it did all the lights in broken s.h.i.+ning particles. One can easily understand how a crystal globe has always been an object of mystery. A foot or so above the globe hung a lamp concealed within a black shade. It was the light from this falling on the crystal which had created the eerie glow I had first seen.

Beside the table stood a theatrical figure, a short, plump man in a frock-coat that was too tight for him. He had a chocolate-coloured face and s.h.i.+fty black eyes. His lank black hair was plastered over his temples in the very manner of an oily schemer. His shallow eyes rolled viciously at us. Anybody but Mrs. Julian would have distrusted him at sight.

Beyond the table in an over-stuffed baby-blue armchair sat Mrs. Julian, overstuffed herself, and enveloped in G.o.d knows how many yards of lavender chiffon. Her face which is naturally red showed a bluish hue under the powder. Perhaps that's why she wore lavender. She was a good-natured creature in her way, and I knew that my employer had a kind of fondness for her.

Along the far side of the room sat three other persons, two men and a woman, of whom I shall have more to say directly. All three had an unwholesome look like things that wanted the sun.

Mrs. Julian's puffy face presented a study when the lights went up. Dark with anger under her make-up, nevertheless she knew she could not afford to quarrel with Mme. Storey. She bit her lip and looked at the floor.

"It is nothing," she muttered; "only ... at such a moment of emotional tension it's a shock to have it broken."

My employer instantly took her cue from the scene.

"I know," she said sympathetically. "But I had a strong premonition that you needed me, Aline, and I hurried right here. You can't stop to question such feelings. I wouldn't let the servant keep me out."

This sort of talk was well calculated to impress Mrs. Julian. She looked at Mme. Storey, surprised to hear it from her, and began to melt. "Oh, Rosika! But I am all right, darling!"

"I'm so glad!" said Mme. Storey, taking her hand.

The East Indian, seeing the current turning against him, became sulkier than before. He placed the crystal and its stand in the middle of a brilliant silk handkerchief and began to tie up the ends in Oriental fas.h.i.+on. "With your permission I will retire," he said stiffly to Mrs. Julian.

"Oh, please don't go," said Mme. Storey in seeming concern. "I am so interested in everything pertaining to the psychic.... Introduce me, Aline."

"This is Professor Ram Lal," said Mrs. Julian a little unwillingly. Perhaps she suspected my employer of irony. "Madame Rosika Storey."

All the persons in the room glanced at Mme. Storey with fear and dislike. I began to feel there must be some foundation for the warning we had received, and a nasty chill struck through me. Was it possible that this scowling Oriental meditated an attack on Mrs. Julian, and one of his rivals, getting wind of it, had telephoned us?

"Do go on with your demonstration, Professor," said my employer cajolingly. "All my life I have been fascinated by the mystery of the crystal, and have been longing to meet somebody to elucidate it."

"I am sorry," he said with the pompous air that such people are bound to a.s.sume, "but the precious filaments that bind us to the infinite are too tenuous to be joined immediately when once they are snapped."

Mme. Storey listened to him with pretended respect. "Then let us sit and talk awhile," she said, matching his tone. "Let us try to put ourselves in tune with the infinite so that new filaments may be woven." Drawing a chair up beside Mrs. Julian, she produced her cigarette case. I sat down behind them.

Mrs. Julian, finding her friend so unexpectedly sympathetic, sighed with satisfaction, and took a cigarette. "Sit down, Ram Lal," she said carelessly.

He dared not go then, though I fancy he was still suspicious of Mme. Storey. Declining a cigarette, he sat down on the other side of the table with an air of forced patience.

"Do uncover the precious crystal," begged Mme. Storey. "I love to lose myself by gazing in its depths."

He obeyed with an ill grace.

"How inexpressibly beautiful!" she murmured. "The clear transparent sphere which seems to conceal nothing yet hides all! It is symbolic of the whole cosmos!"

Mrs. Julian, now completely persuaded, leaned over and patted her hand. "Oh, Rosika, it is so sweet to hear you talk like this! Of course you're the cleverest woman in the world, but sometimes I have felt that ... that ... well, you know..."

"That I lacked soul?" murmured Mme. Storey reproachfully. "Oh, Aline, how could you!"

There was good comedy in this, but I felt no inclination at the time to smile. The East Indian's ugly expression kept me on tenterhooks.

"I see that Madame Storey is one of us," he murmured. "A true psychic!"

Mrs. Julian was quite carried away. The folds of lavender chiffon undulated with emotion. "Oh, Rosika, you have no conception of what a wonderful man he is!" she whispered. "In Ram Lal I have found a bridge to the beyond! He reads both the past and the future. I know that what he foretells of the future will come true because he is never wrong about the past. As soon as he begins to read the sphere the veils fall one by one!"

"Oh, my dear, how wonderful! And what does he say is in store for you?"

A shudder of ecstasy pa.s.sed through Mrs. Julian's vast bulk. "Happiness!" she whispered; "a great happiness!"

Such a rigmarole! I had all I could do to keep from snorting out loud. It made me mad that such a fool should have so much money to throw to the dogs while intelligent people have to get along with the barest necessities.

Ram Lal was not supposed to hear Mrs. Julian's praises, but of course he could guess what she was saying. He lowered his eyes in mock modesty, but the smirk around his lips gave him away.

"And the wonder of it is," Mrs. Julian went on, "this is only an ordinary crystal, though it was the best to be bought in New York." She dropped her voice again. "Just wait until the great Julian crystal is finished, my dear!"

"What's that?" asked Mme. Storey.

"Ram Lal is having the biggest and most flawless crystal made that the world has ever seen!" she whispered. "It's a secret as yet between him and me. It's going to cost a hundred thousand dollars! Ah! just think what that will reveal!"

I wondered if she had given him the money yet. It seemed to me the whole situation depended on that.

"And I mean to build a perfect temple to house the perfect crystal!" she whispered ecstatically. "So that all men may be permitted to share in universal knowledge. That shall be my contribution to my age!"

"But I thought it was against the law," suggested Mme. Storey dryly. "Crystal-gazing, I mean."

"Only if you take money for it," said Mrs. Julian a little sharply. Evidently this unpleasant feature had been forced on her attention before. "I shall endow the temple, of course, so that knowledge may be free to all!"

Mme. Storey, while she occupied herself with the East Indian, did not overlook the other persons in the room. "Introduce me to the rest of your friends, Aline," she said pleasantly.

Mrs. Julian threw them an inattentive glance. Clearly their noses were out of joint for the time being. "Dr. Cushack, Mrs. Bracker, Mr. Liptrott," she said carelessly.

My employer arose and shook hands with each of them affably. The doctor was a small man with an inferiority complex; looked very fierce, squared his shoulders and talked in a deep ba.s.s voice. He had a small waxed moustache and used a slight foreign accent. That was to convey the idea that he had been educated abroad, you understand. He had the cheek to kiss my employer's hand in the Continental manner.

"I see that Madame Storey has a great sense of humour," he said, with a glance of contempt in Ram Lal's direction.

She made believe not to get it. "Oh, I hope so," she said with a silly-sounding laugh, and pa.s.sed on to the next one.

Mrs. Bracker was one of these skinny little women who have reduced to within an inch of their lives. All the make-up in the world could not hide the gaunt lines of under-nourishment and the haggard eyes. She was, G.o.d save her! a beauty-culturist. She took Mme. Storey's hand in both of hers.

"It is an honour to meet the great Madame Storey," she simpered, while her eyes glittered with dislike. Well, naturally a beauty culturist wouldn't have much use for the real thing.

The third was an old man dressed in a respectable black suit. He talked a little like a down-Easter. He was like any other old man, except that his eyes had a crazy expression. As Mme. Storey approached him he fumbled with the straps of a square leather case, and drew from it a weird-looking box with various cords and attachments hanging from it.

"I am the discoverer of the invisible ray," he said impressively, "with which I shall rejuvenate mankind."

He plugged one of the cords into an outlet and a hissing, crackling sound issued from the box. My employer stepped back, a little disconcerted.

"Oh, for goodness' sake turn that thing off, Liptrott," said Mrs. Julian pettishly. "I've had enough of it!"

He obeyed for the moment, but presently I saw him slyly turn it on again. He played with it like a child, perfectly oblivious to the rest of us.

Professor Ram Lal's good humour having been restored, Mrs. Julian suggested that he resume the seance. Immediately there were objections from the other three.

"My dear Aline, the excitement is so bad for you!" said Mrs. Bracker.

"You promised to let me give a demonstration today," grumbled the old man.

Dr. Cushack produced an elegant Russian leather case from his breast pocket. Upon being opened two rows of little vials containing drugs were revealed. "At least you should take your medicine first," he said.

The sight of the drugs made me jumpy. Was this the potential murderer? I wondered. Was he going to poison her before our very eyes?

However, Mrs. Julian waved the dose away. "I don't need it," she said. "Ram Lal does me more good than medicine."

The East Indian stood up, pushed his chair back against the wall, and smoothed down his frock-coat. He glanced with insulting complacency at his beaten rivals. He made caressing pa.s.ses with his hands over the crystal sphere. He was excessively vain of his hands, which were soft and plump with tapering fingers manicured to the limit. They looked vicious to me.

"Lights, please," he drawled affectedly.

n.o.body moved, and Mrs. Julian said sharply: "Turn off the lights, Dr. Cushack."

Nothing in the room was visible except the lambent crystal, the pale hands waving over it, and the smooth inhuman face in the reflected light, staring at it with an awful intentness. He began to mutter something in an uncouth tongue that was supposed to be Hindoo, but was more likely mere gibberish. Pure trickery, but horribly effective. In spite of myself I felt the unreasoning terror of a child. Goose-flesh rose slowly all over my body.

The man was clearly working himself into a hysterical state. As he went on his voice became convulsed; a vertical vein stood out on his forehead, and his lips turned back over his ugly, misshapen teeth. My own teeth were chattering. Trickery ... trickery ... I kept saying to myself, but I could not break the spell.

Finally he began to speak English in jerky phrases with long pauses between. "I perceive ... I perceive a hill-top garden.... It is winter, and the ground is covered with snow.... The garden is ringed with evergreen trees weighted under snow.... But at either end there is an opening amidst the trees which looks out over snowy hills and valleys...."

"It is my place at Newtown to the life!" gasped Mrs. Julian. "Yet he has never been there!"

I would have been willing to bet that he had been there.

"... An elegant woman comes through a gate from a lower level.... She bears herself like a queen.... Though it is winter she is clad in the rosy veils of Springtide...."

This was evidently intended for a portrait of Mrs. Julian.

"... As she advances the snow disappears.... The garden breaks into leaf and flower; the distant hills turn green.... Now I perceive a great throng of people silently gathered under the trees.... Their faces aspire with gladness; they raise their arms above their heads.... For the queenly woman has brought light into their lives ... the light of universal knowledge...!"

The man now appeared to be completely possessed. His head rolled from side to side, only the eyes preserving their level stare at the crystal like water in a swaying vessel. He seemed to be speaking under an immense compulsion; his voice was hoa.r.s.e and broken; a line of white foam edged his lips. It was too horrible, yet I could not drag my eyes away.

"There is a little pavilion in the centre of the garden.... It is completely embowered in vines.... I cannot perceive what is inside.... The woman advances towards it with firm proud steps.... Ardent ... aspiring with an inward fire.... She goes inside.... She finds..." He stopped. His eyes rolled up in his head until only the whites showed.

"Oh, tell me! tell me!" gasped Mrs. Julian.

"Joy supreme!" he yelled--and his body crashed to the floor in a heap.

We all cried out. Mme. Storey sprang up, and ran to the light switch. n.o.body else stirred. The room was flooded with light again, and I covered my face with my hands. I heard my employer say in a crisp, resolute voice: "What is this?"

Mrs. Julian had put her handkerchief to her eyes. "It always ends this way," she whimpered. "He gives so much! The strain is more than mortality can bear. He will come to directly."

Mme. Storey relaxed. "Oh," she said, "probably epilepsy. I have heard that a fit can be induced in this manner."

"Oh, Rosika, how can you!" said Mrs. Julian tearfully. "... Please ring for the servants," she added in a more matter-of-fact tone.

The bell was alongside the mantel behind us. Bunbury and a second man entered almost immediately. It seemed as if they must have been expecting a summons.

"a.s.sist Professor Ram Lal to the retiring room," said Mrs. Julian.

Bunbury took him by the shoulders, the other by the heels. His head lolled from side to side in a horrible manner, and his eyes were open. The two servants had impa.s.sive faces, yet it was clear they didn't like their task. They started for the door. Suddenly the butler dropped the body with a horrid thud on the floor. Somebody screamed.

Bunbury turned a livid face towards his mistress. "My G.o.d, madam! He's stopped breathing! He's dead!" he gasped.

III How shall I describe the scene of confusion that followed? I was dazed. To see death strike in such an unexpected direction; to see a man die without any visible reason for it; it was too horrible. I could not collect my faculties.

The second man, when he discovered he was carrying a corpse, crumpled up in a dead faint. Bunbury dragged him out into the hall. Mme. Storey started to telephone for the police. At the first sound of the word police, Cushack, Mrs. Bracker and Liptrott made a dash to get out of the room.

"Don't let them out of the house!" cried Mme. Storey, 'phone in hand. But what could I do?

We found an unexpected aide in Bunbury. He ran in with outstretched arms blocking the way. His eyes flashed compellingly, and he had forgotten the smooth ways of the butler. "Stay where you are!" he cried. "n.o.body leaves this room until the police come!" He kicked the door shut behind him.

The two men yelled to get out, the woman screamed in insensate terror. "Be quiet, you fools!" cried Bunbury. "You are only convicting yourselves!"

His strong voice quieted them. They returned across the room trembling, and turned their backs on the body. Mme. Storey pulled down a portiere and covered it.

The police were in the house within a few minutes, bringing their own doctor. Inspector Rumsey followed close behind them. Our old friend's face was grave.

"This will look bad for me," he said to Mme. Storey; "after having disregarded your warning."

"My fault," she said. "You put it up to me and I failed you."

"Who could have foreseen this?" he said gloomily.

An examination of the body failed to reveal the cause of death. There was no wound upon it. The supposed East Indian's skin was really as white as yours or mine. He was discovered to be a drug addict. A hypodermic needle was found on him together with a half-filled bottle of cocaine. There were marks of the needle on his arms and legs, but apparently the needle in his pocket had not been used within the last half-hour or so.

"I should say heart failure at a venture," said the police doctor.

"I have reason to believe he was murdered," said Mme. Storey.

"Then it must be poison. Somebody else may have jabbed a needle in him. Could that have happened while the seance was going on?"