“Ena, you’re exaggerating again.”
“I tell you I’m not, Phil. I
know.
Margot was bad enough, but this woman’s worse. But I can get my own back on them. They’ll soon see that.”
“What are you thinking of doing, Ena? “Dr. Chalmers asked, re-lighting his pipe.
“It’s not what I’m thinking of doing, it’s what I’m jolly well going to do. I’m going to write to the King’s Proctor about the two of them.”
“Oh, nonsense, Ena. You can’t do a thing like that.”
“Can’t I? They’ll very soon see whether I can or not. No, it’s no good you saying anything, Phil. I’ve been thinking about it, up here, and I’ve made up my mind. It’s simply horrible the way they go on. Somebody ought to stop it in any case.”
“But my dear girl, you’ve nothing to go on. This is only guesswork. You’ve no evidence.”
Ena uttered a hard little bray of a laugh. “Oh yes, I have. I’m afraid they’ll be surprised, but I have. And evidence that they won’t be able to explain away, either.”
“But how could you possibly have got it?”
“Never mind that, Phil; I’ve got it. And I’m going to use it. You can tell Ronald so, if you like. I don’t care. If he thinks he can treat me like that in public, he’ll find he’s very much mistaken.”
Dr. Chalmers sighed. The emollient did not seem to have acted. “You’ll feel quite different in the morning, Ena. Believe me, you will.”
“Then I don’t believe you, Phil,” said Mrs. Stratton shortly.
Dr. Chalmers sighed again. He did not believe himself either.
Mrs. Stratton’s bosom began to heave once more. “And as for David …”
“Yes?” asked Dr. Chalmers, disguising with difficulty his apprehension.
Mrs. Stratton sat for a moment or two in silence, while the heaving of her bosom grew more and more tumultuous. Then she almost threw herself round in her chair and burst out:
“What do
you
know about David and that Griffiths creature?”
“Elsie Griffiths? Why, nothing. What is there to know?”
“But you know all right which of the Griffiths girls it is, don’t you?” cried Ena with bitter triumph.
“My dear Ena, I simply don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yes you do Phil, so you needn’t put on that damned smooth voice any longer. Everyone’s known about it, I expect, except me. That’s always the way, isn’t it? The wife hears last of all.” Ena began to laugh shrilly.
“Ena,” said Dr. Chalmers most impressively, “if you’re suggesting that there’s anything at all between David and Elsie Griffiths, I can assure you you’re absolutely mistaken.”
“Oh you can, can you? And how do you happen to known there isn’t, Phil?”
“I’m quite certain there isn’t.”
“Then you’re wrong, because there is. My God, when I think of all I’ve done for David… But if that little cat thinks she’s going to get him … Oh, really, Phil, it’s terribly funny, when one comes to think of it, isn’t it? Terribly funny!”
“Ena, you’re getting hysterical,” Dr. Chalmers said, with professional sharpness.
“I don’t care. Why shouldn’t I? I’ve had enough to make me. I’ve had a terrible evening, Phil. You must have seen how rude Ronald’s been to me all the time. And horrible men trying to make love to me.” She looked expectantly at Dr. Chalmers.
“Oh?” said that gentleman, warily.
“Yes. My God, Phil, why can’t men leave a woman alone? Really, you’re the only decent one of the lot. It’s simply disgusting.”
“Who’s been trying to make love to you, Ena?”
“Oh, everyone. They always do. I suppose there must be something about me… Good heavens, I wish there wasn’t. That horrible Mr. Williamson …”
“Oh, yes?” said Dr. Chalmers with great heartiness. “What did he do?”
“He tried to make me sit on his knee. In here. It was frightfully awkward. And Mr. Sheringham was worse. Really, Phil, I can’t think how Ronald could have invited him. He’s the most disgusting man I’ve ever met. I simply had
to fight
him, to get away.”
“You do have a tough time with the lads, don’t you, Ena?” said Dr. Chalmers.
“With all except you,” said Mrs. Stratton seriously. “You’ve never tried to make love to me, Phil. I wonder why you haven’t.”
This time Dr. Chalmers was a little more tactful. “David happens to be a friend of mine, Ena.”
“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Stratton mournfully. “You’re terribly fond of David, aren’t you, Phil?”
“He’s always been my best friend,” said Dr. Chalmers, with hearty lack of emotion.
“It must be wonderful, to be a man and be able to have a real friend,” regretted Mrs. Stratton.
“Yes, I expect it is.”
The conversation then paused, apparently for contemplation by Mrs. Stratton of her feminine handicap.
Then she leaned a little towards her companion. “I don’t think David would mind in the least, you know, Phil. Not
now.”
“Mind what?”
“Your making love to me,” said Ena, in a small but hopeful voice.
Dr. Chalmers realised that he had already been labelled as suffering from a hopeless passion for his companion, which only masculine loyalty withheld him from voicing. He was in something of a difficulty. Ena was usually ready to pay attention to him, he knew; so far as she could respect anyone besides herself, she respected him. He had not yet given up all hope of persuading her to take no steps in the two matters in which her emotions were involved. But to do so, he must reduce her to softer mood. That Ronald had wanted to get rid of her, and had let her see it quite plainly, he was perfectly ready to believe; Ronald was not tactful. Ena’s amour-propre, that tender plant, had been badly damaged. He was being offered the chance of administering a little nourishment to it in the obvious and traditional way.
Dr. Chalmers, however, was a cautious man. He never acted on impulse. Before taking action, he would weigh the fors and againsts not once but several times. It is possible that had he been a little less deliberate, he might have shut his eyes, taken a deep breath, and proceeded to administer the more practical rehabilitation for which he was being asked. As it was, consideration showed him that to embrace Ena Stratton would probably make him physically ill. He therefore contented himself, but not her, with reaching out his sound hand, patting her paternally on the shoulder, and saying with bluff joviality:
“Nonsense, Ena. Of course David would mind. Besides, you know you wouldn’t like me to do anything of the sort. Would you? It would spoil— h’m —everything.”
Ena paused for a moment. Then she nodded solemnly.
“Yes, Phil. You’re quite right. I shouldn’t like it at all. Oh dear, how I wish all men were like you.”
“You mustn’t say that.” said Dr. Chalmers, much encouraged. “I don’t expect they’re so bad really, you know. Anyhow, Ena, I want you to do me a favour. Will you?”
“What, Phil?”
Dr. Chalmers laid his pipe on the table beside him, and spoke with deliberation.
“I want you to give up this idea of writing to the King’s Proctor about Ronald, and I want you to put quite out of your head this idea about David and Elsie Griffiths, and not say a word to him about it. You’ll only upset him very much, you know, without any cause at all.”
Ena shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Phil. I can’t do that. I feel it’s really my duty to write to the King’s Proctor. After all, what are laws for unless we all help to enforce them?”
“Well, well, we can talk about that again tomorrow. There’s no hurry, and you mustn’t do anything without thinking it over very carefully first. And as for David …”
Ena’s thin lips set in an ugly line. “As for David,” she said sharply, “you must leave that to me. No, I’m sorry, Phil. It was decent of you to try to shield him, but I must have that out with him myself.”
“Not tonight, at any rate,” Dr. Chalmers pleaded.
“Yes, tonight. There’s no point in losing time. I only heard about it this evening.”
Dr. Chalmers wondered savagely which of the local busybodies had laid up this trouble for David.
“But listen, Ena. You—”
“It’s stifling in here,” Ena said abruptly. “I want some air.” She jumped up, and almost ran up on to the roof.
Dr. Chalmers followed gloomily. He had thought she was landed, and she had wriggled away once more. He knew it was no good appealing to her again. For months now, possibly for years, she would be throwing Elsie Griffiths up at David, till she had succeeded in driving him almost as insane as herself.
“Oh, curse the woman!” muttered Dr. Chalmers, who never swore.
He followed her to where she was leaning over the railing.
“You’ll catch cold, Ena,” he said mechanically.
“I don’t care if I do. I wish I could catch pneumonia, and die. Could I catch pneumonia, if I stayed up here long enough, Phil? David would be glad. He could have Elsie all right then.”
“Don’t talk such nonsense, Ena.”
“It isn’t nonsense. You know it isn’t. David would be glad. Oh, Phil, aren’t men brutes? I’ve given David everything. Everything a woman can! And now he’s got it all, he doesn’t want it any longer. Oh, what’s the good of going on living, Phil?”
“Now Ena, you know you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. I often think how wonderful it would be to end it all, if only one could find an easy way out. Nobody’s really fond of me—no, Phil, not even you, really. I’m sick of life. I’ve a good mind to jump over this railing here and now. Shall I?” She looked round at Dr. Chalmers wildly.
“That wouldn’t be a very easy way out,” said Dr. Chalmers with bluff common sense.
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind a little pain. It would be worth it. It’s terribly appropriate, isn’t it,” said Mrs. Stratton, with a hollow laugh, “to be standing under a gallows, while we talk about life and death?”
“A gallows from which, I perceive, one of the felons has fallen, if you can draw a moral from that,” said Dr. Chalmers, and aimed a vicious kick at the felon’s severed head. It soared up in the air and out of sight. Somewhat relieved, Dr. Chalmers dealt in a similar manner with the trunk.
“Yes, there ought to be a moral in that, oughtn’t there?” said Mrs. Stratton, with mournful relish. “Do you think it’s an invitation, Phil? An invitation from fate for me to take its place?”
“I shouldn’t think so,” returned Dr. Chalmers. “Well, are you ready to go downstairs, Ena? It’s a bit too cold out here. Besides, David will be wondering what’s happened to you.”
“Let him wonder. He doesn’t care. Phil, don’t you really think it’s an invitation from fate? I think that’s such a nice idea. Look—it would be so easy.”
Mrs. Stratton pulled a chair up underneath the swinging rope, mounted on it, and put the stiff noose round her neck,
“Where do they have the knot, Phil? Let’s get the details right, at any rate. I know they have a special place for the knot.”
“Under the left ear, I believe,” said Dr. Chalmers, bored with this play-acting, and kicked moodily at one of the uprights of the gallows.
Mrs. Stratton adjusted the knot under her left ear, and tightened the noose a little round her throat.
“Look, Phil. It would be terribly easy, wouldn’t it? I’ve only got to jump off the seat of this chair. Shall I? Nobody would mind. David and Ronald wouldn’t. I don’t believe even you’d mind much. Shall I?”
Dr. Chalmers leant with his sound hand on the back of the chair. “Come on, Ena. I’m cold.”
“No, but shall I jump off this chair, Phil? Shall I? Tell me. I will if you say so. Shall I?”
“Yes!” said Dr. Chalmers suddenly, and walked away: with the chair. For the only time in his life Dr. Chalmers had acted on impulse.
Dr. Chalmers did not hear the faint thud and the gurgle behind him. He did not even look round, and so was able to pretend to himself, in some curious way, that nothing had happened. Without pausing, he dumped the chair down on the roof somewhere near the door, where it promptly fell over, and with his hands in his pockets continued on his way, whistling under his breath a little out of tune.
He could hardly believe that, technically, he had committed a murder; yet presumably he had.
Inside the door to the house he remembered that he must take precautions. He was perfectly safe, of course, so long as no one saw him coming in from the roof. Suicide would be taken for granted, and there was nothing to disprove it. Everyone knew that one of Ena’s favourite topics of conversation was suicide.
Still whistling softly under his breath, Dr. Chalmers closed the door very quietly behind him and stood stock-still, listening. There was no sound of voices. He ventured a peep round the concealing angle of the ceiling into the bar-room. It was empty. The sound of music still came from the ballroom.
On quiet feet Dr. Chalmers ran down two flights of stairs. There he turned and, whistling loudly now, mounted once more, slowly and trampingly. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. To his surprise it was only a quarter of an hour since he had come in. All that had happened in fifteen minutes. And that made exactly Lucy’s hour.
Dr. Chalmers’s luck held. Just as he arrived at the top landing the door of the ballroom opened and Margot Stratton came out, passing him on the landing on her way upstairs.
“Hullo, Phil,” she called out. “I’m looking for Mike. Have you seen him anywhere?”
“No,” said Dr. Chalmers, “I’ve only just got back.”
SEARCH PARTY
It was a minute or so before half-past two when Dr. Chalmers presented himself again in the ballroom.
“Oh, hang!” observed Mrs. Chalmers, with even less tact than she knew. “I’m going to finish this dance, anyhow,” she called across the room.
Dr. Chalmers nodded pleasantly as he shut the ballroom door behind him.
Roger, alone at the moment, strolled across the room and joined him.
“Had a drink, Chalmers? You look as if you could do with one.”
“I could,” admitted Dr. Chalmers with a smile. “It was quite cold driving. But I think I’ll wait till my wife’s gone to put her things on. Otherwise we’ll never get off. You know how women are.”
They waited till the dance was over.
“Now, Lucy,” said Dr. Chalmers, with good-humoured firmness.
“Oh no, Phil,” pleaded Mrs. Chalmers.