Sinclair Gluck

“ He left one large globe to light the main hall, a standard lamp switched on in the library for the policeman on guard there and a ceiling light at the head of the stairs. At the end of each hall in the wing a single bulb burned all night as a guide to the fire-escape staircase. Except for these and the bedrooms whose tenants had not yet retired, Stimson left the house in darkness, mounting, somber and noiseless as a shadow, to his own suite on the third floor. ”

“ Breakfast had been a gloomy meal, household and guests eating in a silence that veiled uneasiness or suspicion, the servants unnatural and morose, Miss Mount red-eyed and taciturn. If the crisis had found her composed and resourceful, evidently night and privacy had brought a softer mood.
With the departure of Harrison’s torn body the atmosphere lightened a little. But Landis was relieved when he left the house to find Bernard quietly smoking his pipe in the sunken garden. Their own position in the household was hardly one to inspire cordiality. ”

“ Why not tell her so, Miss Mount? She’ll need her mother now. She’s far too sensible to care about the past.”
Miss Mount’s fine eyes never wavered from his, though a slow and painful blush crept up to stain her white face.
“There are times,” said Bernard quietly, “when pride ought to be dumped out the window. This is one of them. We’re going now. Mr. Brent will help you with details. That’s why I telephoned him. Good-by, Miss Mount.”
She brushed the fresh tears from her eyes and held out her hand to him.
“You’re a good man,” she said. “Good-by.”
“Good-by, Miss Mount,” echoed Landis. ”

“ With a nod to the mystified sergeant, who had been unable to hear what they said, the two detectives mounted the stairs and again knocked on the door of Miss Mount’s bedroom.
They heard the creak of a rocking-chair and the sound of firm footsteps. The door opened to disclose Miss Mount still fully dressed. At sight of them she raised her eyebrows in surprise and displeasure.
“Well, gentlemen, what is it now?”
“The same thing—murder!” snapped Bernard.
“The fact is,” Landis cut in, “we find Mr. Joel Harrison a bit difficult, Miss Mount. One doesn’t like to be harsh with him, you see. ”

“ Harrison quarreled with aside from Joel Harrison, yourself and the servants.”
“Was I?”
“I hope so, Miss Mount. A court-room is such a stuffy, public place to be questioned. We’ll have to have the answers now or there—all of them!”
Miss Mount glanced at Brent. He had risen from the desk to greet them, had joined them and now sat with his finger-tips together, looking more like a stage lawyer than a real one. He repulsed her glance with frowning gravity. She turned back to Landis, a gleam in her eyes. ”

“ Bernard demanded suddenly.
Miss Mount smiled a wintry smile.
“Most of his correspondence consisted of writing checks and enclosing them in envelopes,” she said. “He wrote very briefly and in long hand, as a rule. When there was a longer letter or a document to be written, I typed it for him.”
“All right,” nodded Bernard. “Now for the wing.”
“There you are, Mr. Brent,” Landis smiled. “Sorry to delay you!”
Brent became genial.
“Not at all, Mr. Landis! One can only admire a man for doing his duty!” ”

“ Bernard rose to his feet and they walked down the library toward the Japanese armor.
With a nod to Sergeant Forbes, Landis bent over the blunted arrow. A moment later he restored the bit of feather to his pocket and smiled at Bernard.
“She fits!” he said.
“I expected it would!” growled Bernard. “I liked that check on Allen and Miss Mount and getting Brent’s finger-prints better. But the feather may be useful.”
“In a case of this kind,” said Landis with mock pomposity, “we’re in the position of a man cast up on a desert island. Anything may be useful.” ”

“ They made the drive almost in silence, each man busy with his own thoughts and each subdued by the pitiful tragedy of Graham’s crime, which, as always, had punished the innocent as well as the guilty.
They reached Bernard’s house tired and hungry, for they had had no lunch. Mrs. Bernard and Elsa fed and made a fuss of them. Afterwards Bernard went off to his room for a nap while Landis and Elsa took a walk to discuss such matters as may occur to a newly married couple very much in love. ”

“ He held Miss Mount’s eyes with a chilling stare. “Mr. Harrison was murdered tonight, in his own house, probably by a member of his household. When death comes to dinner, in the guise of a familiar face, the service must suffer. Every person who was in this house at that time is under suspicion, including yourself. Now please do as I ask.”
Miss Mount looked from face to face about her. On Brent’s she read righteous approval, on Bernard’s a grim endorsement of the stand Landis had taken. Graham looked uncomfortable but failed to meet her eyes. ”

“ Bernard smiled with irritating slowness. “There were no finger-prints. Therefore, gloves were probably worn by the murderer. If so, why not these, which lay so conveniently at hand near the cross-bow? Well, gloves leave no finger-prints. But old gloves like these, worn smooth inside as well as out may retain distinct finger-prints on the inside of the glove fingers—finger-prints left there by the last wearer who is, let us suppose, the murderer! A murderer is usually in a sweat of nerves and if his fingers were moist that would help, see?”
Graham and Landis stared at him incredulously. ”

“ My finger-prints ought to be on the bow and arrow that killed Harrison, oughtn’t they?”
“You wore gloves!”
“I neither wore gloves nor killed Harrison!”
“Oh, you won’t ruin us!” wept Anita. “We didn’t do it! We know n-nothing about the murder—”
“Look here,” Allen interrupted. “You’d rather have the real murderer than a miscarriage of justice for the sake of a conviction, wouldn’t you? You don’t want to ruin two innocent people and let the real murderer escape, do you?”
“Who did kill Harrison?” asked Bernard dryly. ”

“ Landis then and afterwards thought of Joel Harrison in terms of a bird or an animal rather than as a human being. Everything about the man, his sudden silences, his relaxed immobility, his dreamy or bird-like glances, belonged to the woodland rather than to civilized mankind. Remembering the dead man’s face it was difficult to imagine the two brothers getting on together.
“Mr. Harrison,” he began at last, “did you lock the door at the end of the wing on this floor tonight?” ”

“ Graham looked his astonishment. “Great guns! I knew you fellows were keen—but—
“On the other hand,” he digressed suddenly, “why should anybody shoot down the whole length of the room at Mr. Harrison? Why not slip in the door there and shoot him at his desk? He was sitting there just before he was killed.”
“How do you know that?”
“Miss Mount came in and spoke to him a few minutes before the gong sounded.”
“We-ell,” drawled Bernard, “a man at a desk and sideways on is no easy target for a fatal shot with an arrow. Perhaps Harrison knew the murderer by sight. ”

“ Wouldn’t she hate the man? Outraged mother instinct might go to strange lengths in a woman of Miss Mount’s fiery temperament and force of character. She’s a suppressed wild-cat if I ever saw one!”
Landis caught the dawning smile on Bernard’s lips and hurried on.
“Both men were shot from her room! Is there anybody in the household with as good an opportunity to do that and to arrange the Japanese bow for a red herring? Wouldn’t almost anyone else in the household have realized, as Stimson did, that the Japanese bow was no alibi because it would not shoot so hard? Finally, those gloves of yours! ”

“ Bernard and Landis sat motionless, watching him curiously. The dead man’s brother appeared to have forgotten entirely that he was not alone.
Suddenly Landis remembered the sergeant still on duty in the hall. He went out, suggested that he join the policeman in the reception-room and returned to the library fire. As he drew near, Joel Harrison glanced up at him in surprise.
“How do you do?” he said with some formality.
“Very well indeed, thank you,” replied Landis as he sat down. “How are you, Mr. Harrison?”
“Oh, quite well. I’m always well!” ”

“ Hunched down in his chair, Bernard stared up at the old fellow from beneath penthouse brows for a moment, then shook his head slowly.
“If you didn’t lock it before dinner, it’s too late now. There’s nothing to be done,” he explained in a quieter tone.
“Never mind,” said Landis. “We’ll get around that all right. Now you’d better go back to your bed and your book. We’re sorry that we disturbed you. Good night, Mr. Harrison!”
With an air of intense but slightly puzzled relief, Joel bade them good night and straggled loose-jointedly out of the room. ”

“ Ethel directed a demure and mischievous glance at Bernard.
“I’m an old fool,” smiled Bernard contritely. It was evident that he had taken a great fancy to Ethel Graham.
“Not a bit of it!” she cried. “I just hoped you—wouldn’t jump to conclusions without understanding!”
“Look here,” he said, “we won’t keep you from your walk a minute longer than we have to. But I would like a word with your husband first—just a word, eh? Will you tell him?”
“Of course.” Ethel jumped to her feet and made for the billiard-room.
When her back was turned, Landis and Bernard exchanged glances.
“Cuddy again!” ”

“ Bernard suggested.
“I’ve told you! Armed with the Cuddys’ address, Miss Mount goes to Long Island last Thursday, finds them, storms or bluffs or frightens out of them an admission that they kidnapped Ethel when she was three. Then she comes home and accuses Harrison of being a monster of cruelty. He sees the game is up and tries to bluff it out. Just imagine the feelings of a woman with Miss Mount’s temperament and character! Imagine her rage and hatred toward the man who had wilfully robbed her of eighteen years of motherhood, years that could never be recalled!” ”

“ Landis persisted. “Her method leaves her a perfect alibi—to be facing her victim when he is shot in the back. We know that she went to her room immediately after the murder, ostensibly to get a restorative for Isabelle, probably to replace the cross-bow in Joel’s room and wind up her thread. Why shouldn’t she leave the rope and thread in her room? She has a perfect alibi! Why should she ever be suspected? ”

“ Bernard stared, then nodded slowly.
“Thank you, Stimson,” said Landis. “Now replace the two bows and the quiver where you found them and wait for us in the kitchen a while longer, if you don’t mind. We may need you again. Much obliged.”
“Certainly, sir!” Stimson moved with dignity to the back stairs. They watched him out of sight. Bernard surprised Landis.
“A queer customer but an honest man,” he said. “There’s venom in our butler. But it’s all for Harrison. He can’t help us much. I’d like to know who planted that bit of feather in his livery. So would he!” ”

“ Harrison was very cool to her when we first came, a week ago Saturday. But on Sunday morning Mr. Brent went off to shoot with Joel Harrison and Ethel, of her own innocent volition, drifted into a long, teasing conversation with Mr. Harrison. You see, she’s been on the stage and she’s learned how to amuse men of his type without losing any of her own dignity. In the afternoon he took her for a drive and a sail and Sunday night he called me into the library.”
“That was when Anita came in and had her row with him, wasn’t it?” Landis asked. ”

“ They dropped Graham at the library door and went on to the drawing-room. Bernard rose until their attractive young witness had settled herself in a chair. While Landis put the questions he sat watching her absently. Once or twice she smiled at him. Young things always took to Bernard because they like kindness, strength and simplicity of character and, above all, reserve.
She told them that she had not locked the door at the end of the wing and that she had been in her room from about half past six until after the gong rang. ”

“ It isn’t like shooting with a bow that’s already there and stays there!”
“Look here,” growled Bernard, “I never liked that Japanese bow theory! How could a man move around in there, get the bow, fit an arrow to it and wait until Harrison got up, without Harrison seeing him or hearing him or sensing him there? Harrison had his side face to the end of the library, not his back! But to creep up to the door, wait your chance and let fly with that cross-bow from outside the library—that’s different.”
“The risk of being caught there!” Landis demurred. ”

“ Murder is so sordid and so—so damned stupid!”
“Agreed,” Landis smiled. “But there’s a difference between suspecting everyone and condemning everyone unheard! Most of us avoid the last, I guess.”
The sound of voices drew their eyes to the passage through which Miss Mount and Bernard were returning. Landis waited for them to draw nearer, then addressed the angry but stoical hostess of the Harrison ménage:
“Thanks for showing us round, Miss Mount. Now I wonder whether you’d mind waiting here with Mr. Graham for just a minute while we glance through the butler’s suite. We won’t keep you long.” ”

“ Now, when was the last time, before the murder, that you noticed the bow and arrows?”
Stimson looked down and aslant, reflectively.
“Sorry, sir, but I can’t be sure,” he admitted at last. “Not for three or four days at least.”
“So you definitely did not notice it unstrung any time today?”
“No, sir, I did not.”
“Who else comes in here frequently?”
“Susan comes in to dust every day. Mr. Harrison was in here almost every night, before and usually after dinner. The others seldom used this room.” ”