The Spiral Staircase (16 page)

“He can divorce me. I don’t care. If he doesn’t, I still don’t care. We’d have lots of fun-together.”

Stephen cast a hunted glance towards the door. Fright made him brutal.

“I don’t care for you,” he said.

The repulse had only the effect of making her more ardent.

“I’ll soon make you care for me,” she said confidently.

“You’re just a silly boy with inhibitions.”

Exultantly, she raised her face to his, her lips expectant of his kiss. When he shook her off, the first shade of doubt crept into her eyes.

“There’s another woman,” she said. “That’s why.”

Desperation made him lie.

“Of course,” he told her. “There always is.”

He was both startled and relieved by her reception of his news. Her face lost its look of immaculate and finished artifice, and crumpled up with elemental rage.

“I hate you,” she cried furiously. “I hope you’ll go to the dogs and die in the gutter.”

Rushing from the room, she banged the door behind her. Stephen took a deep breath and then thumped his chest.

“Thank the pigs,” he said piously.

But the incident left him worried. He wondered whether Simone contemplated some mean form of revenge. Assuring himself that it was no good meeting trouble halfway, as on the morrow he would be gone, for good, he tried to forge this problem in the excitement of a thrill-novel.

Presently he became aware that his attention was no longer gripped. He kept raising his eyes from the pages, to listen. Above the howls of the gale rose a faint whine. It sounded like a dog in distress.

He bit his lip and frowned in perplexity. In spite of his objection, he realized that the Professor’s precautions were probably sound, and he was prepared to obey them to the last letter. But, while the Professor had referred to “man, woman, or child” he had forgotten to include any animal.

Stephen frowned as he realized that he was up against an acid test. If this were a trap, some unknown brain had detected his blind spot, and knew how to exploit it.

“It’s Newton,” he thought. “He’s trying to lure me outside, so I’ll be shut out. The fool thinks he’s got to protect his wife from me.”

Again the faint howl was borne on the wind, bringing him to his feet. But again he sat down.

“Hang it,” he muttered aloud. “I won’t. They shan’t get at me. It’s not fair to risk the women.”

He took up his novel, and tried to concentrate on what he read. But the lines of print were a meaningless jumble of words, because he was awaiting-and dreading-a repetition of the cry.

At last, it came-pitiful and despairing, as though the creature were growing weaker. Unable to sit still, he stole out into the lobby and unbolted the front door. As he put his head outside, the wind seemed about to tear off his ears, but it also bore the barking of a dog.

While it might be a faithful animal imitation, there was something familiar about the sound. Struck by a sudden suspicion, Stephen cautiously rebolted the door and hurried up to his room.

“Otto,” he caned, as he threw open the door.

But no dog leaped to welcome him. The bed was tidy and the room had been hurriedly put in order. “The dirty tykes,” he said. “They’ve run him out. This settles it. I clear out, too.”

Swearing under his breath, he hurriedly changed into his old tweeds and laced on thick shoes. Bag in hand, he clumped down the back-stairs. No one saw him, when he crossed the hall, but, as he banged the front door behind him, Helen heard the slam.

Newton’s visit to his grandmother had released her from her vigil, as the old lady had ordered her from the room. Although it was her usual bedtime, Helen decided to break her rule of early hours.

The whole household was upset; while boredom usually drove the family prematurely to their rooms, they all seemed restless tonight.

Mrs. Oates, also, would be sitting up to let in herusband. Helen felt she had better share her vigil, in case she should drop off to sleep again, and miss his ring. She flew to the front door, just in time to recognize Stephen as he retreated through slanting sheets of rain.

As the light flashed out over the gravel drive, he turned and shouted to her defiantly:

“Lock up … I’m never coming back.”

Helen hastened to slam the door and re-fasten the bolts.

“Well,” she said. “The young rip.”

She was laughing over the incident when Nurse Barker came up from the kitchen.

“What was that noise?” she asked suspiciously.

“Mr. Rice has gone,” Helen told her.

“Where?”

“He didn’t tell me, but I can make a pretty good guess. He’s been terribly keen to go to the Bull, to pay up and say ‘Goodbye’.”

Nurse Barker’s deep-set eyes glinted angrily.

“He’s disobeyed the Professor and risked our safety,” she stormed. “It’s criminal.”

“No, it’s all right,” Helen assured her. “I locked up after him, directly. And he’s not coming back.”

Nurse Barker laughed bitterly.

“So it’s all right, is it?” she asked. “Don’t you realize that now we have lost our two best men?”

WHEN LADIES DISAGREE

As Helen stared at Nurse Barker, she was appalled by the revelation of her eyes. Anger had given way to a murky gleam of satisfaction, as though she realized the weakening of the defence.

Remembering that she was marked out for distinctive bait, the knowledge inspired the girl with defiance.

“We’ve still two men,” she said. “And, five women-all able-bodied and strong.”

“Are you strong?” asked Nurse Barker, sneering down at Helen, from her superior height.

“I’m young.”

“Yes, you’re young. You may remember. that—before you’re much older. And—perhaps—you may regret your youth.”

Helen tossed back her red mane impatiently.

“I suppose the Professor ought to be told about Mr. Rice,” she said..

“And, of course, you will tell him.”

“Why—me?” asked Helen.

“He’s a man.”

“Look here, Nurse,” Helen said, in her mildest voice, “I think that bickering, just now, is silly. We all want to pull together. We don’t want to keep harping on men. And I’m sure you don’t want me to be the next victim. You’re too good a sport.”

“I have no ill-feeling towards you,” Nurse Barker assured her in a muffled voice..

“Good,” said Helen. “When you go up to Lady Warren, will you tell Mr. Newton what’s happened, and ask him to let his father know.”

Nurse Barker bowed her head, in stately assent, and began to mount the staircase. Helen stood in the hall, watching her flat-footed ascent, as the tall white figure gradually towered above her.

“You can wear high Spanish heels, when you’re small,” she thought, looking down, with satisfaction, at her own feet. “She walks just like a man.”

She noticed that, as Nurse Barker retreated, she apappeared little more than a dim glimmer crossing the dimly-lit landing, as though some ghostly shape were rising from its churchyard bed. The illusion reminded her of her own experience, before dinner, when she had been appalled by a momentary vision of evil.

“It must have been the Professor,” she assured herself.

“I fancied the rest.”

Suddenly she remembered, an additional detail. The Professor had emerged from his bedroom, whereas she had another recollection of a door being opened and then shut immediately.

“Odd,” she thought. “The Professor wouldn’t open his door, and then, slam it-and then open it again. There’s no sense in that.”

Staring up at the landing, she noticed that the door of the Professor’s bedroom was close beside that of the back staircase. Someone might have looked out from the one, just as the other was opening, with the meticulous timing of a lucky chance.

The notion was not only absurd, but so disquieting that Helen refused to admit it.

“No one could have got into the house,” she told herself. “It was all locked up, when Ceridwen was strangled … But, supposing there was some secret way in, of course the murderer could have rushed from the plantation and been lurking on the back-stairs, when I saw him… Only, it was the Professor.”

In spite of the seeming impossibility of anyone entering the fortress, she began to wonder, if—for a minute or soany chink had been left in the defense. At the back of her mind, something was worrying her… . Something forgotten-or overlooked.

She had been unmethodical, all the evening, breaking off in the middle of a job to start another. For example, she had not even begun to screw up the handle of Miss Warren’s bedroom door. Before she had discovered how to tackle the difficulty, she had been interrupted by the Professor, and left her tools lying on the landing.

“Anyone might think I was untidy,” she thought. “I’ll go up again and experiment a bit.”

As the resolution crossed her mind, it was swept aside by the spectacle of Newton, hurrying down the stairs. His sallow face was flushed with excitement, as he spoke to her.

“So the noble Rice has walked out on us?”

“Yes,” replied Helen. “I was there when he went—and I locked him out.”

“Good… I suppose he was alone?”

“I only saw him on the drive. But it was very dark and confusing in the rain.

“Quite.” Newton’s eyes flickered behind his glasses. “Do you mind waiting here, just for a minute?”

Helen knew what was in his mind as he galloped upstairs to the second floor, and she smiled over his ground less fear, even while she knew that she could have saved him his journey, at the expense of tact.

A minute later, he clattered down again, ostentatiously flourishing a clean handkerchief, to excuse his flight.

“My wife is a bit upset,” he remarked casually. “Head-. ache, and so on. Perhaps you’d see if you could do something for her, when you’ve time?”

“Certainly,” promised Helen.

Newton’s smile was so unexpectedly boyish, that Helen understood the secret of his popularity with his womenkind.

“What a lot we Warrens expect for our money,” he said. “I do hope you get a decent salary. You earn it… . Now, we must tell the Chief about Rice.”

Once again, Helen was flattered at being asked to help him. Although her sympathies were with Stephen, she had infinitely more respect for Newton. All the men seemed to be inviting her co-operation, that night; instead of being in the background, she was constantly on the boards.

It was true that she was there, chiefly to feed the principals, and was not picked out by the limelight; but, in the circumstances, it seemed safer not to advertise. She even congratulated herself that Nurse Barker was not present to witness her entrance into the study, since personal tri umph was not worth more friction.

The Professor was lying back in his chair, with his eyes closed, as though in concentration. He did not open his lids, until Newton called his name. When he did so, Helen thought that his pupils looked curiously fixed and glassy.

Apparently, Newton shared her impression.

“Been mopping up the quadronex?” he asked.

The Professor’s stare reproved the impertinence.

“As I’m the financial head of this house,” he observed, “I have to conserve my strength, for the benefit of my-dependents. I must insure some sleep, tonight… . Have you anything to tell me?”

His lips tightened as he listened to Newton’s news.

“So. Rice rebelled against my restrictions?” he said. “That young man may develop into a good citizen, ultimately, but, at present, I fear he is a Goth.”

“I should call him a bad relapse,” remarked Newton.

“Still, he was a hefty barbarian,” his father reminded him. “In his absence, Newton, you and Ihave more to do.”

“Which means myself, Chief. You’re a bit past tackling a maniac.”

Helen guessed that the Professor was irritated by the remark. . “My brain remains at your service,” he ‘said. “Unfortunately, I was only able to pass on a section of it to my son.”

“Thanks, Chief, both for the compliment and your help. I am afraid a formula for poison-gas hardly meets the case. We need brute-force.”

The Professor smiled bleakly.

“My despised brain may yet prove the trump-card,” he said. “Does Simone know that Rice has left?”

“Yes.” Newton bristled at the implication. “What of it?”

“I leave that to you.”

“She’s got a headache,” said Helen. “Mr. Warren has asked me to see to her.”

The Professor’s eyes slanted slightly inwards, as though he were trying to peer inside the lighted recesses of his brain.

“An excellent idea,” he said. “Remember my daughterin-law is temperamental. You may have to influence her, but don’t irritate her.”

He whispered to his son, who nodded, and passed on the instruction. “Miss Capel, it might be wiser not to leave her alone.”

Helen felt rather important as she went up to the red room, although she was slightly doubtful of the success of her mission. As she paused outside the door, she could hear the sounds of strangled sobbing. No notice was taken of her knock, so she entered, uninvited-to find Simone stretched, face downwards, on the bed.

“Oh, your lovely dress,” she cried. “You’ll ruin it.”

Simone raised her head, showing a tear-streaked face.

“I hate it,” she snarled.

“Then take it off. Anyway, you’ll feel freer in a wrapper.”

It was second nature to Simone, to be waited on, so she made no protest as Helen peeled the sheath-like gown over her head..

The younger girl took rather a long time in her selection of a substitute, from the wardrobe. The sight of so many beautiful garments aroused her wistful envy. “What lover-ly things you have,” she said; as she returned to the bed, carrying a wisp of georgette and lace, which was less substantial than the discarded gown.

“What’s the good of them?” asked Simone bitterly. “There’s no man to see them.”

“There’s your husband,” Helen reminded her.

“I said ‘man’.” “Shall I get you some aspirin for your head?” asked Helen, who was determined to keep Simone’s ailments on a strictly physical basis.

“No,” replied Simone. “I feel foul. But it’s not that. I’m. so terribly unhappy.”

“But you’ve everything,” cried Helen.

“Everything. And nothing I want… . My whole life has been one of sacrifice. Whenever I want something, it’s taken from me.” She coiled herself into a sitting posture, as a prelude to confidence. While her make-up was ruined, the tempest had swept harmlessly over her plastic coiffure, for her hair gleamed like unflawed black enamel.