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Chapter 9 · Idols

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Chapter nine of Idols by William John Locke. This LibriVox recording is in the
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public domain recording by Simon Evers, Chapter nine. He threw off his dressed
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clothes with the repulsion that every man feels for such garments. After an all
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night sitting. He was tired out, capable only of attending to the trivial
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and personal things that immediately concerned him. Thanked God with the fervor which the
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average man expresses, for none but the trifling mercies of providence that no case
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compelled his attendance in court at ten o'clock, stretched himself, yawned, stumbled
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shiveringly into bed, where, drawing the bed clothes tightly round him, he
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sank at once into the heavy sleep of the weary man. A confused sound
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broke upon his slumbers. In a waking dream, it seemed to him that
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Minna was battering with a hammer at some formless material object, which his mind
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identified as marriage. He awoke to find the noise that of knocking at his
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door. In reality, he slept some hours, but he was conscious of
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only a few minutes repose. He called out angrily to be left alone.
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The knocking continued. He called out again. Then a strange voice was heard.
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Can I see you for a minute, Sir. Exasperated, he jumped
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out of bed and opened the door. What the devil is it? He
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recoiled in some astonishment at the sight of Israel Hart's butler, Samuels. The
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man looked greasy and kempt agitated. Behind him flashed the retreating figure of Missus
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Parsons, the porter's wife. Come in if you want to speak to me,
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said Hugh, for the cold draft was sweeping down the passage through the
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open flat door. Sam was obeyed. An awful thing, Sir, I
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think you'd better come round at once. My master was murdered during the night.
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If he had suddenly received a blow from a life preserver, Hugh could
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not have been for the moment more stunned and dazed. Murdered your master last
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night? He stared at the man. It was inconceivable, the incredible horror
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of it was. It had passed the night. Keenly awake in the house,
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Israel Heart murdered a few yards away from him, without uttering a cry,
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giving out a sound in the death struggle. It passed realization. Ye
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yes, sir, an ye study, said the butler with tears in his
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eyes and with quivering lips. The ousemaid found him at quarter to seven this
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morning. How did it happen? Some one? Did him be something heavy?
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Just over here? The man passed his hand upwards from his temple to
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his skull. It's been terrible work this morning, he added, with a
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shiver. The first shock over Hugh recovered his balance. I will come with
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you at once. Tell me the details while I dress a wadi hurried into
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his clothes, and afterwards at a crust of bread and drank a cup of
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coffee. Samuels told his story in brief. What had occurred was this the
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housemaid coming to lay the study far and discovered her master lying huddled together on
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the hearth rug. As she approached with her candle, a glance had showed
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her a streak of blood in his gray hair. She had screamed, rushed
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up to Samuel's and given the alarm. He had come down seen the body,
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recognized that life was extinct, had sent out at once for a doctor
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and a policeman. Pending their arrival. He caused Miss Hart to be roused
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by her maid, and had remained in the study to prevent any of the
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servants disturbing the arrangements of the room. Miss Hart had come downstairs, wild
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with terror and had fainted away, so that she had to be carried up
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to bed again. The policeman had come in the course of a few minutes,
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followed soon afterwards by the doctor who was a near neighbor. Then the
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inspector had arrived, and later a Scotland Yard official, and they were at
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present engaged in investigations. They did not seem to be the slightest clue.
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It was an awful mystery. And miss Hart, how was she when you
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left? Asked Hugh, as they went down the steps of the mansion.
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Seems she came to very soon, Sir, answered sandals, and then she
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would dress and come down, and now she's bearing up wonderfully. It was
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she and the inspector that agreed you were to be fetched, as you were
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the last person except the other that saw him alive. Yes, said Hugh,
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I remember him telling you to go to bed. Oh I saw him
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going after that, Sir, when he went upstairs. Then how could I
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be the last? Besides I thought he was fond of the study. I
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don't follow you. He went upstairs to get something from his bedroom safe,
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and then went down again. I was seen to the fire in his room,
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and he told me again to go to bed. I thought you were
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still there, sir. What time was that? Hugh asked sharply. That
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was five minutes to twelve. Why I left him at half past eleven,
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said Hugh. They arrived at the Lindens. A knot of idlers were standing
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at the gates, discussing the straws of information that floated among them. A
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policeman on duty marched slowly round the drive, his footprints indistinguishable from countless others
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that had broken up the thin and melting coat of snow. On the steps
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stood an inspector and talked with a couple of press men who were taking notes
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with red, cold fingers. The inspector touched his cap as you came up
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shortly, A fair sir. If you will go in, I will see
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you in a moment. He entered, went up to the fireplace in the
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hall and warmed his hands, wondering at the force of routine which took cause
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his far to be lit on a morning of such upheaval. The slight sound
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of an opening door made him turn and then he saw Minner's pale and haggard
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face. She beckoned to him hurriedly and disappeared into the dining room. He
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followed her, shutting the door behind him. The sight of the room brought
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a fresh shock of associations, although ever such a ghastly morrow to a feast.
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Minna stood by the table, one hand behind her, resting upon it,
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her eyes meeting his in dull defiance, she checked brusquely. His first
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half articulated exclamation of sympathy. Yes, I know all that you can tell
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me. You can't waste time over it. Have you spoken to the inspector?
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Not yet? Thank god I have seen you first. This does not
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interfere with our compact. You won't say a word about seeing me last night.
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Certainly not, he replied, turning away from her with a feeling of
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repugnance. As far as your father is concerned, I left this house at
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half past eleven. She closed her eyes with a sigh of relief. I
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was afraid you might betray me, not wilfully, but indiscreetly. Has this
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been your dominant emotion all the time? He said heartily. I am glad
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our ways lie separate. I have my interest to protect, she said.
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He shrugged his shoulders, walked past her to the fireplace, and leant his
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broad shoulders against the black marble mantelpiece. Her selfishness dumbfounded him. Her eyes
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bore no trace of tears, attitude, not a suggestion of grief. Ill
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and warm, she looked, but from shock and strain and anxiety, not
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from sorrow. Had she no human feeling. And yet she was the same
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woman whose heart had throbbed with wild tumult against his, whose eyes had glowed
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with a burning passion in their slumbrous depths, whose voice had melted into murmurings
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like the deep notes of the mating dove. Once he had compared her in
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his mind to a volcano, the aptness of the similitude occurred to him.
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Now she passed through her period of eruption. Now the molten fire of her
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nature was cold and unlovely lava. She moved suddenly from the table with a
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dragging step of exhaustion, and flung herself into a chair and lay with her
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head bowed upon her arm. I know how you judge me, she said
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hoarsely. You have always judged me. That is one of the things that
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made me hate you. You think I ought to be in floods of tears.
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So I should have been if it had not been for last night.
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But I must protect myself now or never. No one can do it for
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me. How was I to know that you would be discreet? I had
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ruined staring me in the face. I've strained every nerve to keep my wits
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till you came. You can't tell the agony of the strain. How could
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you and this awful horror overwhelming me? Oh God, don't you think I
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feel the horror of it. She did not raise her face, but remained
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with it buried on her arm in an attitude of profound prostration. Soon a
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shudder ran through her frame. She began to moan and sob. An impulse
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of pity brought him to her side. If I can be of any help
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to you minute, you only have to command me. But you did not
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heed him, only waved in a way with her free hand. Go leave
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me, she said, scarce audibly. If you want me, send for
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me and I will come, he said. He left her, went into
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the hall, where he found the inspector. To the latter's questions, he
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gave what formal answers lay in his power. A newsagency representative joined them soon
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afterwards. Gradually Hugh acquainted himself with all the meager facts in the possession of
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the police. Mister Hart had been killed outright by one blow of a blunt,
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heavy instrument. Death must occurred during the small hours. The safe in
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the study was found open. The only article apparently missing from it was a
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black deed box, which mister Hart's confidential clerk had been summoned immediately stated to
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have contained bonds. There were no other signs of robbery. A thorough inspection
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of the premises that discovered no traces of burglar's injury, the only possibility of
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which was by means of a window that would been left unsecured for Prince,
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there were none, owing to the slight's fall of snow. For the present,
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the police were entirely at a loss. Do you know if mister Hart
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had any enemies, asked the inspector. A man in his profession comes into
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intimate relations with many people whom he could not call his friends, replied Hugh.
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But I am not acquainted with any of his clients. As a private
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friend, I always found him kind and generous. Could you supply me with
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any details concerning his private life? Asked the pressman. I am scarcely in
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a position to do so, replied Hugh, in a manner of the precluded
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importunity. He felt sick at heart, unhinged, and longed to be freed
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from the sordid horror of the house. His own hidden yet intimate connection with
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the tragedy of the night oppressed him like an incubus. It was he who
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had started the poor old man upon a train of thought and emotion that kept
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him from his bed, where the murderer, if safe robbery had been his
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only aim, might not have sought him. It was he who was responsible
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for the unguarded window by which the murderer had entered, And then the fact
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that he be beneath the same roof discussing with the daughter her inheritance, while
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the father has been done to death downstairs, loomed grotesquely hideous before his eyes.
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It was like a situation some vulgar menodrama, where simultaneous action is represented
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in two separate and adjacent interiors. At last, he escaped police officials and
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reporters, and found himself in the heath road, glad to breathe. The
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outer air again gray and misty, as it was covering the heath like a
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pole outside the Merriams, he paused, seized with a sudden desire for the
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comfort of Irene's voice and the sympathy of her clear eyes. Mere intimacy,
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too, required that he should inform her of the catastrophe. He entered with
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the latch key, which he possessed by virtue of his intimacy, and knocked
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at the door of the smoking room, where Irena always worked in the mornings.
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As soon as he appeared on the threshold, she rose quickly from her
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writing table. You've come to tell me. I know it. The whole
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of Sunnington knows it. A dreadful thing, that poor little girl. I
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have just come from the house, he said gravely. I had a short
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interview with her. It's a terrible shock, of course, but she is
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bearing it pretty well better than I should have expected. You know, I
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was dining there yesterday, so I was nearly the last person who saw him
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alive. For that reason, they came to fetch me this morning. Tell
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me what you know about it, she said, drawing a chair towards him.
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He sat down and put her in possession of the facts as far as
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they were known to the police. She listened in tently, sitting by her
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writing table, supporting her chin on her hand. And have they no clue
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at all? None? The poor old fellow found murdered, a deep box
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gone from the safe, a window left unsecured. Practically speaking, that is
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all they can go upon. Do you know, Hugh said, Irene,
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I am convinced it was no common burglar. It was some desperate man who
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borrowed money on some securities which he knew lay in that box, and he
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committed this crime to get them back. He was hiding in the house all
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the evening, possibly somewhere in the study, and he opened that window,
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escaped by the back lane. He smiled in spite of himself at her feminine
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certainty. I wish they would put you in charge of the investigations, Renie,
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he said, But don't you think my theory is quite plausible? She
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asked, accepting his remark with the humble knitting of her brows. He admitted
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that it was observed that he spoken not in satire but in admiration. The
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police was standing about there, not knowing where to turn next. Well,
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the first thing, said Irene, would be to list the securities in the
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deep box. There must be a record of them somewhere, and then to
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investigate the actions last night of each of the plants, to whom the securities
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belonged. I never thought of that, he exclaimed, sharply. Yet they'll
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do that, undoubtedly. Irene went on to speak of Minna, of the
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girl's friendless isolation, of the help that she herself might have offered, had
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Minner not so resolutely repelled her advances. She would be even willing now to
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risk a breach of good taste if she could befriend her, She asked his
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advice. Her great heartedness drew him very near to her Sonia, that it
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required a moment's struggle to stifle the craving to tell her all the miserable history
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of his marriage and his own connection with the Knight's tragedy. How could he
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affise from the matter, knowing as he did Minner's inveterate jealousy and dislike.
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I think she would have some of her own people with her, he remarked,
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mendaciously. She said something about it this morning. He rose to bid
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her good bye, as she took his hand. She scanned his face earnestly.
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You are looking so ill and worn, she said affectionately, much more
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so than when you came in. It has been all this discussion. Ah
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afraid it is the want of my breakfast, he said, forcing a laugh.
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All Irene's protective instincts were aroused. No breakfast, and you were going
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away without asking for anything to eat. Sit down at once, and let
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me get something for you. She ran out of the room in her impulsive
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way, leaving him standing on the hearth rug. Good God, he said,
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throwing his hat and doves on to the chair. I never thought of
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it, And he remained staring blankly at a picture in front of him until
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Irene returned. End of chapter nine