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On the Landing at Midnight · The Dalehouse Murder

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Chapter eleven of The Dale House Murder by Francis Everton. This livery Wox recording
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is in the public domain. Read by Yoganund The Dale House Murder, Chapter
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eleven. On the landing at midnight, with quiet, stealthy thread on the
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heavy carpet, I attained a position half way up the flight of stairs.
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Not a sound had I made, not a boat had creaked, No movement
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or noise was anywhere in all the quiet house. Then, with a quick
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catch in my breath, I halted, suddenly motionless. My fears redoubled.
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There just about me, struck up above the switch and shining white in the
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light from the landing, was a square piece of paper, similar to the
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one I had found in the same position only the night before I came upstairs
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to bed. I fancied that somehow or other, my own stealthy movements had
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engendered in me a condition keyed up and ready tuned to vibrate in response to
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any sudden nervous shock. For uncontrolled my heart went pound and a sickening chill.
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When shuddering down my back to steady myself again, I had to grasp
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the hand rail. Last night just such another piece of paper to which I
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had made my unfortunate and imbecile addition, But Stella dead when the morning came.
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No possible connection between the two. How could there be? When innocent
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I myself had committed the more pertinent part of the folly, And now again
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to night, another piece of paper standing out, clear and white against a
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landing wall. What did it all mean? What could it mean? Was
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some fresh disaster lying hidden undiscovered just ahead? Or was it nothing but another
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stupid joke? But in God's name, I asked myself, who, either
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say, in a sober would perpetrate such a joke, or any joke so
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soon after Stella's death and the day's events. And if not a joke,
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then, full of apprehension, I mounted the remaining stairs. It was a
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plain postcard I found, with the address dale House, much Aster, printed
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neatly in the top right hand corner. I had observed similar cards standing in
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a case on the top of the doctor's desk. Across the middle of it
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had been paste with the words dark deeds are done in dale House at night.
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Just for a brief moment I did not quite grasp a reason for the
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irregular appearance of the message, but I soon tumbled to it that the sentence
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had been built up by cutting out odd words and letters from a newspaper and
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then pasting them on to the card. A faint pencil line had been ruled
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to keep the wording level, A neat and careful hand had been at work.
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I suppose that in even the most sheltered and unevenful lives, there are
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some little scenes that, for one reason another stand out with illogical precision from
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among the million of tiny impressions that are daily transferred from retina to brain.
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Childish memories perhaps that stand out clear and unfaded by the passage of time,
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where the settings of life's most important crisis become fogged and indeterminate. For me,
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however, there will always remain an unfair mental picture of that quiet,
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dimly lighted landing, the tracery of the pattern on the carpet, the shadow
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of the hand rail on the stairs, the highlights and shadows on the metal
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of the double switch, and the plain white card with its ominous little message.
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I have but to close my eyes to recall each minute detail at will,
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and see myself standing hesitant at the center of the picture, miserable and
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incapable of action since breakfast time a century ago. It seemed each long hot
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hour had been fraught with some fresh horror or distress, and now fagged out.
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My brain refused to work, my faculties failed to function. I gazed
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at the card in stupid amazement. I felt my eyes grow round and goggle.
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What should I do? What ought I to do? Should I obey
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my first impulse and arouse the decisive doctor, in spite of the fact that
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the space of minutes only had passed since I had labeled him the logical answer
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to our riddle in the dark. Should I knock up Kenneth and Ralph and
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precipitate, And yet another repetition of the earlier angry scenes. Should I up
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the police, or should I allow myself to drift come to no decision at
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all, go to bed and lock my door? Each alternative in turn I
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pound out twenty times, and then rejected to go calmly to bed, leaving
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the others ignorant and unwarned of such an open threat against their safety was unthinkable.
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Indeed, yet try as I might make up my mind, I could
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not to any other courts of action. There I stood yes and might have
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stood till dawn of day, turning the wretched card ever over and over in
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my hand, hot with self shame and fuming at my incapacity. Then I
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heard a gentle, muffled sound of movement on the landing up above, and
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brought me back to life once more, and quickened me to action. I
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pushed up the switch as gently as I might, and stood in the dark,
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alert at last and listening. Yes, some one was moving cautiously about,
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faint but unmistakable, testing each board as I trod it against a sudden
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creek. Step by step, saw and slow, I crept along the stairs
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that led to the upper landing and poor murdered Stella's bedroom. The door of
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the fatal room was standing white, and as my eyes reached the level of
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the topmost step, they met a beam of white electric light. Low and
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level. It made a track of light that cut the darkened room in two.
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And crouching down against it, there was somebody kneeling. It was a
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Tundish. I recognized him at once, in spite of the dim light,
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the big white tassels at the end of his dressing gown cord, and those
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thin but steady hands of his gave him away. I negotiated the remaining steps
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and gained the head of the flight without a sound, unless my thudding heart
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was really audible. Then I stood absorbed to his right on the floor there
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lay a small electric torch. That was the light I had seen as he
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mounted the stairs in the narrow part that it slashed across the shadows. The
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doctor's sensitive hands were moving methodically over the carpet. He was stroking the pile
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this way and that, his white taper fingers evering and searching. Then he
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pushed the light of pace farther on and repeated the process. I watched as
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he made his position half a dozen times or so. Then from the landing
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below, there came the unmistakable, distinctive click of a closing door. The
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Tundish heard it too. I saw him jerk up his head to listen.
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His hands seized their restless searching, and lay quiet and still in the band
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of light. What would he do, I wondered, if he thought that
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there was some one awake and moving about and the landing beneath. What would
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he do if he knew that I stood there in the dark just behind him,
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watching him At burk he switched off the electric torch. I flattened myself
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against the wall. What is it, chief cork? He whispered, did
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you hear a door shut down below? I jumped like a frightened horse.
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So sudden and unexpected came the whispered question from out of the quiet, darkened
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room. Not once had he turned his head or glanced in my direction.
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The landing was inky black. I could have sworn that I had not made
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a vestige of noise as he crept up the stairs to find him. Yet
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not only did he know that he was being watched, but he knew that
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it was I. Had we both been seated comfortably at the breakfast table,
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he might have questioned me as to a second helping of bacon in just such
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a casual tone of voice, astonishing and impertabble. Could nothing shake him?
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Did he see nothing incongruous or bizarre in my standing there on the darkened landing
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and dead of night? While he made his secret search on the floor by
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Stella's bed? What on earth are you doing? And how did you know
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I was there? I asked, in a shaking voice that I failed to
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control. Sh speak more quietly, man, did you think you heard a
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door shut, Come along in and close the door. Since I have often
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thought, and I must confess with not a little shame, that there could
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have been no better illustration of a strong man's personality dominating of a man less
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strong. There was I with my suspicions, all aroused, suspicion backed by
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evidence and based on solid reasoning, suspicions which, in spite of my instinctive
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liking for the doctor, would not lie dormant and disregarded. Yet he only
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had to whisper, come along in and close a door, and he got
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to him in a darkened room, without thought of harm or danger. One
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minute I write him down a murderer. The next, unhesitating I placed my
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life in his hands. I find him creeping furtively about the house at night
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with an electric torch, and it is he who quietly asked me what I
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am doing and what it is that I want? In the dark. We
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stood with straining years for a little time, and then he opened the door
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and listened again at the top of the stairs. I remained alone in the
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room, still troubled as to what line of action I ought to take.
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Should I show him what I had found and tax him with having put it
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where I found it. All it matters, run their coats and see what
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happened next. I could just make out the outline of Stella's pet Dark Deeds
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are done in Dale House at night. I still held the card in my
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hand. He came back to me, shutting the door carefully behind him.
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He switched stone his flashlight again, taking care to keep the beam directed away
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from the window in which the blind was undrawn. What is it, Jeff
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Cork? Is anything the matter? What made you come up here? He
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whispered quickly. I heard you moving about. What are you looking for?
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He hesitated, Look here, Jeff Cork, I really am most awfully sorry,
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but I can't tell you. I was merely falling up a little idea
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of my own, doing a little private detective work, I believed him,
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implicitly and at once. So much from my labors in the drawing room.
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I showed him the revised edition of the notice. So much for my voluminous
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notes and my absurd little table of final reckoning. What do you think of
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that? I asked, watching his face as closely as I could in the
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light of the electric torch. Where did you find it? I told him.
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He whistled softly. He held the light up close to the printed words
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black shadows in a small, bright circle of light, a strong white hand
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holding a small white card. As he looked, I felt my suspicions revive
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again. But directly he spoke, I was reassured. I don't like it,
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he said, after a pause. I don't like the look of it
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at all. It means the devil of a disturbance and a fuss. But
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we must wake the others up and make sure that all of them are safe.
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This little message cannot be ignored. We will leave Annie and Cook until
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the last come along downstairs. Side by side, we made a way downstairs
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again, and only just behind us there came the quiet, pad pad pad
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of another pair of feet. I put my hand on the doctor's arm to
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stay him, and we stood together, holding her breath and straining to hear.
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Our follower also stopped immediately. He or she must be standing a little
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way above us on the darkened stairs. The thundersh flashed on his starch and
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sent its white beams searching up and down. Not a soul was to be
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seen. All was empty and quiet, and still to say that I was
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badly scared would be an understatement. The heat of the interminable day, the
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shock of the morning's discovery, the ordeal of Little Alport's inquisition, Kenneth's violent
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outbursts, These and all the other events that had followed one another with such
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sinister regularity, each in turn had sapped my strength. Until now I stood
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a bundle of tortured nerves. I could have turned and fled. Well,
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that beats the band. The Tundish whispered, you did hear a step?
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Yes, I could have sworn to it. He sent his light flashing to
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every corner again, then, keeping it alight, he continued an interrupted dissent.
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It came again at once, the gentle following tread of slippered feet.
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My hair fairly bristled. Then, to my astonishment, I heard the doctor
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chuckle. He twisted round and pointed his light at the steps immediately above him.
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There's the ghost, he said, pointing to the tassels of the end
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of his dressing gown cord, which was undone and dragging down the stairs behind
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him. He shook with silent mirth. What a priceless pair of fools,
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we are, asked, But I had been too much upset to enjoy the
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humor of the situation. Arrived on the bottom landing again, he switched around
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the light. It was an old lamp retired from one of the rooms to
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do more humble service, and it gave but a dim and feeble light.
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It was very quiet. Well, here's for it, he said, You
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go and wrought out Kenneth, and I'll attend to Ralph. I turned the
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handle of Kenneth's door and was not surprised to find it locked. Soon we
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both of us were knocking loudly with their fists. There was no longer need
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to be quiet, and the noise that we made went echoing like a challenge
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through the silent house. Dark deeds had done and dale house. At night,
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I thumped it out on Kenneth's door. He was very sound asleep,
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and I heard the doctor talking to Ralph before I could wake him up.
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When at length he did unlock his door, I told him to slip on
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his dressing ground, and soon the four of us were gathered in a group
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under the landing light. The two boys were full of questions, but the
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Tundish asked them to wait with what patience they could while he roused the girls
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and made sure that they both were safe. Ethel's door swung slowly open on
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its hinges, even as he moved toward it, and Claire, in a
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pretty smoke blue dressing gown, she stood in the doorway before us, swaying
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slightly, only half awake, a hand against each post to give herself support.
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She had switched on a bedroom light, and its brighter glow shone through
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her ruffled, curly hair. Census quickening gradually seeing his group together, Her
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sleepy long last nights grew widened. Her poor bruised face and swollen lips blanched
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and twitched as awakening fears increased. She tried to speak and failed. The
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Tundish hurried toward her. What it is, Oh, what is it?
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Thundish? Dear? She whispered. He reassured her with the quiet there's nothing
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to fear. He held himself well and checked, but I could see how
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he longed to take her in his strong, safe arms and kiss her fears
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away. It was pitiful to see them standing there together, their love for
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each other so evident to us, all to Kenneth, it would have been
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warmwood and gull. Ralph fetched her chair from his room, and we showed
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her what I had found. Margaret was the last to be roused, and
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we had to knock on her door repeatedly before we could wake her up,
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and then she was some minutes again before she joined us. Her eyes,
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too seemed heavy with sleep, but in contrast to Ethel, she stood alert
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and awake. A pink dressing gown opened wide at her full white throat showed
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the creamy texture of her curving breast. She put up her hand to the
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pretty gap as with a giggle she said, what a sight I must look.
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However unsuitable occation. I thought she must always have a feminity on parade.
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We none of us made the sought for reply, and she went and
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knelt by Ethel's chair, holding and patting her hands. While we were waiting
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for Margaret, the doctor had gone upstairs again to find out about Annie and
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Cook. Annie evidently was already wakened by the noise we had made, and
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I soon heard him talking to her cook. However, he could not rouse
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though we heard him pounding and bang away on her door. There was something
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altogether ghastly in the noise he made. While we waited whispering below, Tut
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tut tud, and then a pause, and before their course had died away,
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a fierce tut tud again, Tut tut tud. Death. For surely
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the dead, and only the dead, could sleep through such a thudding.
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He rejoined us, placid and unconcerned. I can't wake her, but I
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am sure that I can hear a breathing, he told us if she has
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been drinking, though it might take more than mere noise to rosa. She
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has locked a door and left the key in it, turned so that I
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can't push it out. He was the only one of us I noticed to
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speak above a whisper and in his usual voice. But what on earth is
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it all about, Kenneth asked, You were pretty sarcastic. Remember this afternoon
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when he suggested waking Ethel. She overpitched his voice in an attempt to copy
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the doctor's equanimity. Poor Kenneth. Yes, yes, but then you see
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her. I knew that she was safe, and this little satan's love note
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had not been found. I don't understand it. What were you both doing
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about the house at this time of night, Kenneth asked, turning to me,
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if you found it while you'd wake up the doctor of all people before
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the rest of us. I looked at the Tundish. Not a word had
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I said as to where I had found him, and I wondered what he
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would tell them, But he never hesitated for a fraction of a second.
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Oh, I imagine that Jeff Cork would have told you all that is to
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tell while I have been up stairs, he replied, And then he proceeded
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to tell them everything. How I had sat up late and going to the
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garden for a straw, had seen a light shine from the landing window,
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how I had found the notice behind the switch, and him with his flashlight
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searching the floor of Stella's room. The only thing he omitted to mention was
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a door we both heard shut with a click on the landing below. When
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he had finished, he turned to me to corroborate his statement. I could
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not understand him. Why should he confess so readily to being abroad at night
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in circumstances so suspicious, and then ignore the one salient point that stood out
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so clearly in his favor. I nodded my assent. It was his business,
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after all, and I would not interfere his explanation was received in silence,
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a silence tense with incredulity and disbelief. Ralph asked him what he was
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doing in Stella's room, and he gave the same explanation that he had given
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to me a little time before. His voice held not a trace of emotion
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nor concern. We were all of us looking at him Ethel with friendly trust
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and approval, the two boys and Margaret with suspicions they either could not or
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did not bother to conceal. For myself, I hardly knew what to think.
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He faced us, all unmoved. He smiled reassuringly at Ethel. Either
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of you two then could have put this up behind the switch. Kenneth asked,
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You could have put it there quite as easily yourself, I answered him
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angrily. He shrugged his shoulders. It just happens that I didn't, he
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said, very stiffly. The man was insufferable, a fool. We might
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any of us say that Ethel joined up in arms at once directly the Tundish
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was attacked. Besides, she added, if either Francis and the Tundish had
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done it, wouldn't they have printed this one like they did the last now,
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of course they wouldn't. It would have given them away at once.
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I or any of the rest of us might have tried to copy the doctor's
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printing, just as you did last night, Jeff Cock. But either of
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you two would obviously have to adopt well, something like this, he finished,
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rather lamely, pointing to the card. The tundush looked amused, all
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very pretty up to appoint Kenneth. But don't you see that what you say
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applies quite equally to all of us. It was an easy matter for Jeff
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Cock to copy my printing in the first place, and he did it well
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enough for the purpose. But you don't really suppose for one moment that his
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attempt would have hoodwinked an expert. If this means anything at all, the
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author would never dare to write it out by hand. No, you may
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be certain of this that whoever put this card where Jeff Cork says he found
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it, put the poisoner to stell Us, Glass and Kilder. And in
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my opinion, once again, the opportunity has been equally open to us all.
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No one will admit having done it. We all, including the doctor,
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deny having had anything to do with it. I suppose Kenneth queried the
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Tundish thanked him for the special mention, and we each denied it in turn.
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Ethel sat limp in a chair, Margaret kneeling beside her. We four
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men stood round them, the dim light overhead casting our distorted shadows across the
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floor and up the landing wall. The Tundish, unruffled and pleasant, his
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hands and his dressing gown pockets, rocking himself gently backward and forward, and
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heel and toe the boy's clum and dour myself nearly dead with fatigue. A
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long silence close down on us again. Liar murderer, poisoner went whispering through
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the silence. Sixty niles, and one of them are lie who of the
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six was lying? The doctor as ever broke the pause. Well, we
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can do no more now, and in the morning we must tell the police
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of this new development. You two girls hop back to bed while we make
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sure about the cook. Hush it up as long as we can all go
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to bed, good friends. I'll take Dann good care that the police know
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all about in the morning. But before I go to bed, I should
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like to know where the paper is from which the words have been cut.
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You won't object to our searching your room, it was Kenneth. Of course,
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we spoke, and Ralph nodded his agreement. We ought to search all
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the rooms, he said, Almost beyond hearing any more, I burst out
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with, for God's sake, do let us go to bed and leave Alpo
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to do his own dirty work. I spoke querulously and with no feeling than
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I raally intended. My voice was out of control. I felt the others
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looking at me in surprise. The Tundish hesitated, well, it's just a
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chance, but I don't think we gained very much if the paper is found.
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I know that if I were guilty, it wouldn't be in my room
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that any one would find it. They were persistent, however, and while
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Ethel was too tired to take any interest, Margaret seemed inclined to agree with
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the boys. The doctor assented good naturedly, and I gave away with the
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best grace I could. We dealt first with the rooms belonging to the girls,
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so that they could complete their broken rest. Kenneth proposed that they might
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be allowed to deal with each other's, but the doctor would have none of
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it. Moreover, he insisted on all keeping together as the rooms were searched
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and turned. One of us is a liar and versed, and a liar
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not to be trusted alone. We unmade the beds, We pulled up all
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the carpets and turned out all the drawers, scattering the clothing on the floor.
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Nothing was neglected, saving modesty, and nothing incriminating found. Ethel went
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back to bed. We heard the key turn in the door of her room,
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and then we moved across the landing into mine. I stood in the
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doorway, watching the others at burke with Margaret, who said she was sure
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she would never get to sleep again at my side. Isn't it all too
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fearfully thrilling? She whispered, confidentially, clutching a cressing gown. Together with
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exaggerated modesty, I could cheerfully have slain her on the spot. Before a
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bare couple of minutes had passed, Kenneth, who was emptying my few belongings
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out of the chest of drawers, held up a new seat above his head
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in triumph. I knew we should find it. I I knew I was
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right, he cried, triumphantly. What are you all of you to say
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to that? He might have spotted a Darby winner, We cried Rondon.
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He held the paper up to the light and we could see utwards where here
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and there odd words and letters had been cut away, that this was the
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paper that had been used. There could be no shadow of a doubt.
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They turned to me with questioning glances. Margaret whispered inaudible, oh you.
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I had nothing to say, no explanation to give, and stood stupidly,
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tongue tight before them. All. I was too astounded to speak a protest.
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But he remembered that the doctor had been awake and abroad in the quiet
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house while I was downstairs, and the rest were locked in their rooms and
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asleep. His and mine were the only two unoccupied. To make up the
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notice, place it over the switch, and then step into my room and
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deposit the paper where it had been found. What I thought could have been
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easier for him to do than that, had he not just stated that if
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he were guilty, that was what he would do. But afterward he have
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gone upstairs to Stella's room and have allowed me to find him there. Or
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was his search and his private detective work all a pretense, and was he
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really on some murderous errand which I had interrupted. I knows what I knows,
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Cook had said, besorted, drunken cook. What did she know?
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I wondered? Was she really upstairs snoring? Or had she, too,
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like Stella, made a last adventure and opened the door at the end of
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the passage. These were the thoughts that flashed across my mind as he stood
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stupidly turning the paper this way and that. When he did look up,
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I found Margaret gazing at me with ill concealed horror. The Tundish, half
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amused and wholly sympathetic. Kenneth was making a further search, and he soon
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produced another card like the one that had been completed, a tube of paste,
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and then a pair of scissors. The paste came from the doctor's desk.
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The scissors, Margaret claimed as herts. They were the ones she had
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missed when she cleared up a work to go to bed, and she did
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not fail to remind me how we had looked for them together. Well,
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it certainly smells a bit fishy. And did you smell fish when the key
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was found under your own pillow, Kenneth, the Tundish asked him quietly.
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Yes, I did, And as you have asked me the question. I
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believe it was the same piece of fish, meaning why you you damned liar.
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Of course, the doctor laughed, you'll win yet, Kenneth, for
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you'll certainly be the death of me anyhow. You take charge of the treasure,
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trow Margaret off to bed with you. We can do no more here.
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And now he was in command of the situation once more, and to
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me, at least, it seemed quite natural that he should be. Kenneth
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insisted, however, that we should go upstairs and verify the doctor's statement.
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That Cook's notes could be heard through the door, and though I could hear
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her distinctly and could confirm his opinion, Kenneth pretended that he was not sure.
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And Ralph, of course followed Kenneth's leader, and was not certain either.
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The Tundish was willing to convince them, and fetched a stout screwdriver,
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with which, after some little delay, the lock of the door was spried
25:02
open. She was lying fully dressed on the top of a bed, her
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head rolling about trotesquely in time with the heavy breathing. The windows were tight
25:10
shut, and the room reeked of spirits. The doctor, steadying her head
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with one hand, raised an eyelid with the other. She never stirred.
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Dead rung, but not dead, he pronounced. He opened the window and
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we filed away downstairs. The boys disappeared to their rooms. The Tundush and
25:26
I were alone. It's uncanny the way the evidence against me grows, he
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said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Against you. Surely I am
25:37
the more implicated over this, he smiled broadly. No, indeed, all
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the other doors except yours and mine were locked. You would never have left
25:45
such a clue at large and unprotected. It would have been your first care
25:49
and concern. On the other hand, how exactly it fits with what I
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might have done myself. You must believe me, though, when I assure
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you that I did not, I believe. Ridiculous as it may sound.
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I believed him implicitly, and he told him so. We stood alone on
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the dimly lighted landing. The Great Cathedral clock was chiming too. We could
26:10
hear Kenneth barricading his dove. And you believe in me, I asked,
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He nodded, Have you any suspicions at all? Why should anyone go to
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such trouble over such a mad joke? Mad? Yes, but diabolically clever
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too. Don't you realize how it has emphasized last night's notice and helped to
26:30
link it all up with Stella's murder. Yes, but mine was a vital
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part of that. It meant nothing, surely until I printed my asinine addition.
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Surely it did. Think how I called attention to the fact that each
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of us might have been alone upstairs last night. Think how all and out
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of keeping the whole silly, practical joke must appear to Alport. Why you
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thought so yourself? You know you did. And now the second notice me
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caught crawling about the house at night, and the newspaper found in the onely
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vacant bedroom. Whether any further crime was intended to night or not, nothing
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could have told more heavily against me. Remember too, how at Alport's inquiry
27:08
Kenneth stressed his sentence trailed away to nothing, and he stood gazing into vacant
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space, a puzzled frown on his clear cut pleasant face. Well off you
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go to bed, he said, breaking through his devery. I may yet
27:22
get my call to that young citizen's valey. I staggered to my room and
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tumbled out of my clothes and into bed. My brain refused to tackle further
27:30
problems, but my last conscious thoughts were of Kenneth. Could I imagine him
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guilty? Kenneth a murderer, yes, just possible perhaps, But Kenneth diabolically
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clever? No, nost emphatically no. The end of chapter eleven