by Jerry eBooks
“What of it?” Crandall asked impatiently.
Joshua went on as if he hadn’t heard. “When we got to port, a doctor examined Ed Fries. He said that Ed would never walk right again, that Griggs had struck some nerve or suthin’ in his brain—a nerve that controlled his leg muscles. Well, you should of seen the look in Ed’s face when the doctor told him that. If ever you’ve seen pure, undiluted hate, that was it. He just stands there an’ says, ‘I’ll make him pay, I will, if it takes a lifetime!’ We left him there for treatment, an’ I never saw him again. But he was the kind of a man that remembers. An’ from what Mr. Avery an’ Miss Mary tells of this shadow’s face, I’d say it was Fries come at last fur his pay!”
Crandall began to say, “Well—”
But he never finished his sentence. For from below came a woman’s fearful shriek!
It filled the house and echoed back from the old walls in a dreadful peal of horror.
Avery’s face became pallid. Quincy seemed rooted to the spot where he stood.
CRANDALL acted swiftly. He leaped through the doorway, brushing the sailor aside. He skidded down the flight of stairs to the main hall. When he reached it, his gun was out. The shriek was repeated again and again. It came from one of the rooms in the rear. Another door opened, and Anselm Griggs came out with a gun in his hand, seeking the source of the screams. “It’s Mary—my daughter!” he shouted to Crandall.
There, was a momentary silence, then another shriek. Griggs crossed the hall to the door from behind which the sounds came. He jerked it viciously and it opened. Crandall shouldered in beside him.
Mary Griggs came stumbling out of the bathroom door at the opposite side of the room. Her face was drained of color, her eyes were glazed. She would have fallen had not Anselm caught her. She didn’t faint. She just clung to him. “Daddy!” she sobbed in a whisper. “Aunt Georgia—in her bathtub! Like Uncle Richard! No blood in her!” She shuddered. “I came in to see if she was all right—and found her there!”
Crandall sprang across and into the bathroom. He stopped short beside the tub, his eyes bleak. Georgia Skane—what remained of her—lay there. Her skin was covered by minute punctures like those on her husband’s body upstairs. It sagged from the bloodless flesh. There was rope around her wrists and a gag in her mouth. Both sagged now, the skin having receded from the rope. Richard’s eyes had been closed; hers were open, and mirrored indescribable agony.
Crandall turned away bleakly. His knuckles were white around the stock of his automatic. Avery and Quincy came in. They looked at the body. Avery staggered a little. Quincy supported him.
Crandall looked around the bedroom. He picked up from the floor a pink nightdress. It was torn in several places—apparently ripped from Georgia Skane’s body before she had been placed in the tub.
He went over to the bed on which Anselm had laid his daughter. “Do you feel strong enough to tell us what happened, Miss Griggs?” he asked gently.
Mary Griggs nodded weakly.
Old Joshua Quincy broke in before she could begin. “Phineas!” he exclaimed. “Anybody see if he’s all right?”
“Where is he?” Crandall asked.
“I wheeled him to his room.”
“All right. You better go and bring him back to the living room. We’ll keep everybody together from now on.”
Quincy turned to obey. Crandall said to Avery, “Go with him, Mr. Avery.”
The lawyer threw Crandall a quizzical look. “You suspect—?”
The detective shrugged. “I don’t know whom to suspect first. You’d better go along just to be safe.”
Avery hurried after Quincy. Anselm and the detective supported Mary Griggs between them, across the hall into the living room. In a few moments Joshua Quincy wheeled the old invalid into the room. Avery came behind them.
Crandall looked at Phineas Griggs. The man sat there flabbily helpless while Joshua placed him in a corner of the room. But his eyes! His eyes seemed intent on the detective, straining, trying to give him some message!
CRANDALL wasted no time on preliminaries. “My friends,” he said, “either one of you is a murderous fiend, or else there is someone hidden in this house!” Anselm Griggs looked up at him, his eyes flashing. Joshua Quincy stood listlessly, his hand on Phineas’ shoulder. Mary Griggs shrank into her chair. Avery cleared his throat and polished his glasses.
Crandall went on, “It’s too bad Mr. Phineas Griggs can’t talk at this time. I think he could name the killer!” He saw a gleam in Phineas’ eyes, and knew that he was right. “Since Mr. Griggs cannot talk, I am going to ask Mr. Avery to read us the will that he brought out here today at his client’s request. It may throw some light on this mystery. We will at least learn who gains by wiping out this family!”
Avery dug a long envelope out of his pocket. “I have the will here,” he said. “But I don’t know that I have the authority to read it to you.”
“I’m sure,” Crandall insisted, “that Mr. Griggs would want you to read it. Besides, you told me yourself that it was the purpose of your visit here!”
“All right,” the lawyer agreed reluctantly. He ripped open the envelope and extracted a single sheet of legal cap. Glancing apologetically at Phineas Griggs, he adjusted his glasses and said, “I’ll skip the preliminaries and read the list of bequests.”
“Go ahead,” Crandall agreed.
Avery read in a dry, nervous voice from the last will and testament of the man who sat in the wheel chair, still alive, yet incapable of moving a muscle.
“ ‘I bequeath the sum of fifty thousand dollars to my old mate, Joshua Quincy, who sailed with me for two decades. If his whereabouts are unknown at the time of my death, I direct my executors to spare no efforts to locate him.
“ ‘I bequeath to one Edward Fries, a sailor, the sum of twenty thousand dollars as partial amends for a terrible wrong I did him. My executors are directed to make every effort to find him, too.
“ ‘I bequeath to my son, Anselm, and to my daughter, Georgia, the residue of my estate.
“ ‘In the event that any of the above legatees predecease me, their surviving children shall share and share alike.
“ ‘If the said legatees shall predecease me and leave no surviving children, then the money shall be paid to my attorney, Frank Avery, to establish a charitable institution for medical research.’ ”
Avery stopped reading amid a pregnant silence.
The voice of Anselm Griggs cut bitterly into the quietness. He mimicked Crandall’s last words. “We have, at least, learned who gains by wiping out this family!” He was staring intently at the lawyer.
Avery’s face blanched. He stammered, “W-what do you mean?”
Anselm strode up to him till he towered over the little attorney. His jaw jutted vindictively. “If we should all die,” he said slowly, “you would have the exclusive handling of the entire estate—for charitable purposes! I bet charity would begin at home!”
JOSHUA QUINCY mouthed a thunderous oath. In two strides he was beside Avery, who shrank from him. “So you’re the one that’s been killin’ us off!” the sailor shouted. “One by one, gettin’ us all, so you can have that money!” He turned a livid face to Crandall. “An’ you, too, ye smirkin’ Sherlock! Ye’re in this with him!” His great hands opened and he came at Crandall.
Anselm’s daughter, Mary, sat still, eyes wide on the detective to see what he would do. Old Phineas, too, watched him out of anxious eyes in a motionless body.
Suddenly an automatic appeared in Crandall’s hand. Its barrel glinted dangerously. He drawled, “Take it easy, Matey.”
Quincy stopped, a foot from the detective. “Go on,” he uttered hoarsely, “kill us all an’ be through with it. Then share the money with that shyster!”
Crandall barked, “You, Captain Anselm Griggs! Why did you have to start this crazy sailor off? There’s enough hate in this house as it is! Have you forgotten the intruder that Mr. Avery and Miss Griggs and you, Quincy, saw?” Quin
cy muttered, “Ye’re right! An’ he mentions Fries in the will!” His eyes regarded old Griggs with reflective somberness.
The paralyzed captain was straining with pathetic futility against the bonds of his helpless body. His eyes were straining from their sockets in excitement.
Mary Griggs came up behind Crandall and whispered, “We didn’t tell him about that shadow we saw. Poor granddad!”
She went over and put her arm around the old man’s shoulders and then stroked his hair. Crandall still had his gun out, though Quincy had relaxed. The detective said, “There’s only one thing to do. We must have the police here—and a doctor to determine the cause of these deaths. One of us must walk to the village. Who’ll it be?”
Quincy raised his eyes penitently to Crandall. “I’ll go,” he said. “I’m used to weather.”
Mary Griggs said, “You don’t have to go to the village, Josh. If you go down the other side of the hill from the road there’s a farmhouse about two miles away. They have a phone.”
Quincy went to the door. Before going out he turned and spoke to old Phineas Griggs. “Don’t worry none, Phineas. I’ll be back in no time—an’ we’ll end this business!”
When he had gone, Crandall said to the others, “Now I want to be alone in here with Mr. Phineas Griggs for a while. Suppose Miss Mary goes in the kitchen and makes some coffee—it’ll come in handy, I know. And you two gentlemen go with her, Mr. Anselm Griggs and Mr. Avery.”
Anselm said, “And leave you alone with Dad? No!”
Crandall pocketed his gun and strode over to him. His eyes blazed. “Look here, Captain Griggs. Perhaps you recall my name—Major John Crandall. I was attached to Intelligence in Palestine. My name was pretty well known then.”
Griggs looked at the floor. “I recall the name. I didn’t connect you—”
“Naturally,” said the detective, “after the lapse of years. Now perhaps you will have the kindness—”
Mary broke in. “Father, please. I am sure Mr. Crandall can be trusted—fully.” She flushed prettily and avoided the detective’s eyes.
Anselm said, “You’re right, Mary. I’m a fool.” Then to Crandall, “I’m sorry. Major. Of course we’ll go.” He stepped up closer. His one eye glowed. “I know you recall that—incident in Palestine. Thanks for not bringing it up before Mary.”
Crandall nodded in understanding. As they started to leave, he asked, “Are you armed, Captain? Don’t forget that there may be a dangerous fiend somewhere in the house. This Ed Fries—”
Anselm nodded. He produced a businesslike automatic. “I would like to see that devil.”
Crandall said, “Be on your guard. Stick together. We know where everybody is in this house now. If you see a strange shadow, shoot first and ask questions afterward!”
Mary shuddered and put her hands before her face. “When I think of Aunt Georgia—her dead body!”
Anselm put his arm around her shoulder and led her out.
At the doorway, Avery turned and said to the motionless Captain Griggs, “Have no fear, Captain. Mr. Crandall can be fully trusted.”
CRANDALL sighed when the three left, and crossed the room to old Phineas. “Now, Mr. Griggs, let’s get to work.”
Griggs’s eyes rested on him brightly as he came over to the wheel chair. “If you can’t talk, you can do something else—the others didn’t think of it. You can move your eyes.”
The old man’s eyes were burning intensely, trying, it seemed, to convey an urgent message. They glared at him, then moved quickly to focus on a spot on the wall opposite. Back and forth they moved. Crandall followed their direction, and walked over to the row of bookcases along the wall.
He turned to Griggs. “Are you trying to tell me that the answer to our mystery is in this bookcase?”
Griggs’s eyes sparkled. Crandall scanned the books closely. Suddenly his hand shot out and seized one of them. It was a leather-bound diary. He saw that Griggs was straining in his chair. Those eyes, with distended pupils, were literally shouting at him. “So this is the clue,” he said.
There was a line scrawled across the cover; “Diary of Captain Phineas Griggs.” There was a leather band stretching from edge to edge of each cover, and a small padlock dangled from one end. “With your permission, sir,” Crandall said. He smashed the lock with the butt of his gun. The book fell open at a page in the center. He read at random, and in a moment forgot the helpless invalid whose avid eyes were following his every motion. The large, vigorous handwriting was easy to read.
“Sept. 28, 1902
Off the Island of Ceylon
“Well, I’ve left him there. God, what else could I do? He was wounded, and I had a fortune in pearls. I don’t call it stealing. They had no right to them either, for that matter. It’s him, I’m worried about. I saw them capture him. And I left him in their hands—alive!
“It can’t be helped. We’ve weighed anchor. I couldn’t go back now, if I wanted to. But I keep seeing pictures of what they’re doing to him!”
Crandall turned the page. There was no writing, but a clipping torn from a book had been pasted in. It was short.
“In Ceylon, in some of the forests and alone the river banks, it is impossible to take a step without being attacked by them. Not only do they creep along the ground seeking what they may devour—they are on every bush and tree, from which they drop on the head and neck of the passer-by; nay, they even spring to meet their victim.”
Underneath the clipping was written in pencil:
“And when they finish with you, your body is a bloodless bag of bones. They suck you dry! And I left him to that fate! The Brotherhood of Hirudo will have his blood sucked out of him, while I enjoy the pearls. Hirudo—what a name for a leech!”
Crandall slammed the book shut. Of course—leeches! That explained the peculiar triangular marks on the bodies. He should have thought of that before. In Palestine many soldiers had been killed by the leeches. Ceylon was not the only spot in the world where they festered.
The voracious parasites had three triangular teeth in their mouths. They made an incision in the skin, then fastened on with their suckers and clung till their crops were full of a victim’s blood. Then they dropped off, bloated. Fifty leeches no longer than a man’s index finger could drain a body of blood in fifteen minutes!
But who? Who was the fiend that had envisaged such a horrible death for a family? Feverishly he opened the book, forgetful of Griggs’s unwavering eyes focused on him, forgetful of the storm that battered against the house.
And suddenly the lights flickered and went out. The room was plunged into absolute, palpitating darkness. He got out his flashlight, and the beam penciled the features of old Phineas. They were contorted with terror! The shock had released his paralyzed muscles. Crandall saw his jaw working. He was trying to talk, to cry out, but no words came. Saliva drooled from the corners of his mouth.
And then Crandall’s skin tingled as a shiver of cold ran up his spine. For from the direction of the kitchen came the voice of Mary Griggs, raised in a fearsome scream! Only once, that scream, and then silence, followed by the thud of a falling body.
Crandall’s gun was out. He left the old man in the wheel chair and dashed into the corridor. He flashed his light down the hall and caught the shadow of a huge figure coming out of the kitchen. He was about to let his automatic belch, but he caught his finger in time and lowered the gun. For the figure was carrying on its shoulder the inert body of Mary Griggs. The beam of light had framed her face momentarily.
CRANDALL launched himself forward. The figure with the girl’s body leaped up the stairs to the upper floor. Crandall sprinted after it. As he swung around the bannister, his flashlight swept the kitchen through the open door, showing him two bodies lying on the floor. One was the white-haired Avery, and it stirred under the light. The other he didn’t have time to recognize.
The stairs creaked under him as he followed the figure ahead. At the top of the stairs, the figure dropped the
girl from his shoulder. At the same time he dropped a box he had been holding in his left hand. Crandall heard the rending of cardboard as the box broke. At the same moment he threw himself to one side as a gun belched in the hand of the man above him. A slug passed too close for comfort. His instinctive move had saved him.
Crandall threw up his gun and fired. The figure staggered backward, stumbled, and collapsed. Crandall knew he had hit him in the shoulder. He threw his light on the man and saw the pain-contorted face of Joshua Quincy!
He pocketed the gun that Quincy had dropped, and played the light on Quincy’s face.
The old sailor stared up at him and winced. “All right,” he gasped. “You got me. But I’d have killed every damn’ one of ’em with a little more time!”
“But why, man? Why the leeches?” Crandall demanded.
Quincy screwed his face into a grimace. “Old Phineas. I was his mate. We stole pearls from the Brotherhood—of Hirudo. I was wounded. He—left me in the lurch. Got away with the pearls. I was caught—and they gave me the leech torture.” His thin lips set in a grin. “But I didn’t die! I got away. I vowed Phineas’ family would never enjoy the wealth we had stolen together. It took me thirty years, but I caught up with him!”
Quincy’s eyes began to close. He was not hit mortally, but the loss of blood was weakening him.
Crandall shook him roughly, and the pain jerked his eyes open.
“What about that ghost?” Crandall demanded. “What about this Ed Fries that Mary and Avery saw?”
Joshua Quincy’s lips opened and slowly spread into a sickly smile. “It was Fries, all right. I brought him here. I found him in Java and brought him here.” He coughed, and his face showed a twinge of pain, but he went on. “I promised I’d let him get his revenge!” He laughed weakly. “I figgered I’d kill off the family an’ then put the blame on him.”
“Where is he now?” Crandall demanded.