King Devil

by Charlotte MacLeod

  “Nellie, what about the paint?”

  “All right, Joe, I’m coming to it. There was two hand prints in fresh green paint right smack in the middle of the back of Uncle’s old black smoking jacket.”

  The woman’s dry-eyed anguish was unbearable.

  “But, Mrs. Smith,” Lavinia burst out, “did you actually find green paint on Peter’s hands? You always keep him so beautifully clean.”

  “I try. God in Heaven knows I try. No, I didn’t see any paint.”

  “But you’d have had to, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t she, Mr. Devine? Paint is awfully hard to get off. Peter wouldn’t know how, would he?”

  “Nellie, listen to me,” said the constable. “Peter was only a little shaver then, and he’s none too bright even now. He never had sense enough to think of scrubbing his hands in turpentine.”

  “Ted must have cleaned him up,” said the woman dully. “Peter was over home asleep in his own bed when we got back. Ted found him there before I did. I came straight in here, thinking he’d still be with Uncle.”

  “Did you tell Ted what had happened?”

  “I had to, didn’t I? I could never have moved Uncle alone.”

  “So the pair of you got him out to the mill between you?”

  “We had to do something. We couldn’t leave him lying there.”

  “Whose idea was it to stuff his body inside that old mattress ticking?”

  “Ted’s. The ground was frozen so hard we couldn’t bury him. It was horsehair, out of Great-Aunt Mary’s old sofa.”

  “How come you went on leaving him there?”

  “Ted said that was as good a place as any. He said nobody’d ever think to look inside that ratty old bag. We talked a few times about taking Uncle out and burying him in the woods after the hue and cry had died down, but decided it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “What I can’t figure out is why you didn’t just burn the jacket and leave the old man where he could be found. I’d have thought Ted would be anxious to get his claws on your uncle’s money.”

  “He was in no hurry. There was the income from the business every week, and Ted knew he’d get the rest when the seven years were up. He figured he’d come out better in the long run if he let the boys support him for a while.”

  “Didn’t care how tough he made things for us, I don’t suppose,” Clinton grunted.

  “Ted liked making things tough for people. Anyway, you two came out on the long end of the stick,” Mrs. Smith snapped with a trace of her usual spunk. “I’m the one that suffered most.”

  She glanced wearily at the rubbing. “That was more of Ted’s meanness. ‘I’m going to put it on record, what your precious son did,’ he told me, ‘just in case you ever try to get smart and open your mouth.’ It was always ‘your precious son,’ just as if he hadn’t been willing enough on his part of the business.”

  “Why didn’t you chisel off that altered date sooner, Mrs. Smith?” Lavinia asked.

  “My husband wouldn’t have stood for it. He was still around, in case you didn’t know, right up till the day Miss Tabard paid me all that money for Uncle’s house. I begged her not to put it all down in one cash lump, but she said that was the way she always did business.”

  The woman’s gaunt shoulders rose in a helpless shrug, then dropped again. “I knew if I ever touched that gravestone, Ted would take it out on Peter. He was always after me to have Peter put away. He claimed it was on account of having an idiot son that he ran around. I knew better, of course. Ted was always bone-rotten, right straight through, only I wasn’t smart enough to see it till it was too late. I never dared do anything more than transplant those king devils so they’d grow up thick around the base of the stone and hide what was on it.”

  “You must have got a terrible shock when I came waving that stupid rubbing in your face,” said Lavinia. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get rid of it. I do think you went too far, though, when you tried to get rid of me as well.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman mumbled.

  “Oh, yes, you do. You almost drowned me Friday night, when you followed Roland and me up the hill.”

  “It was your own fault! Talking, talking, asking questions about Uncle, prying around and making trouble. I never meant to kill you, I just wanted to shut you up. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Why did you have to come traipsing up here in the first place? They don’t want you.”

  Mrs. Smith jerked her head in the direction of the parlor. “You should have heard the way they were carrying on about having to take you in, before you ever got here. And if you think that sneaking rat Athelney wants you, you’ve got another think coming. Once he finds out Miss Tabard doesn’t intend to fork over enough to feather the love nest, you’ll have about as much chance of landing that fish as I have of getting back what Ted stole from me. You wouldn’t know what to do with a man if you got one.”

  She uttered a snort of derision. “You should have heard her, Joe. There they were, the two of them, out sparking in the moonlight, her got-up regardless in ruffles and flounces, him full of high-flown notions and her aunt’s brandy, and all she could think of to talk about was what happened to Uncle. I’d have laughed myself sick, if she hadn’t made me so mad.”

  “Well, you still didn’t have to shove her in the millpond,” said Devine. “Nellie, can’t you get it through your head, that was a mighty serious thing to do?”

  “Don’t press her on it, constable,” Lavinia pleaded. “I might have done the same, if I’d been in her shoes. I’m not looking for revenge. I just want to get this whole business tidied up.”

  “So you can file it away,” teased Hayward fondly.

  “Well, Miss, if you say so.”

  The constable was only too willing to be persuaded. “Anyway, she’s given Hay a testimonial that his girl wasn’t flirtin’ behind his back. You’ll have to start laughin’ out the other side of your mouth on that one, Nellie. This young woman knows what to say well enough, I daresay, when she’s talkin’ to the right beau.”

  “Much good may it do her,” sniffed the housekeeper. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall when Miss Tabard hears the minx has got herself mixed up with the son of a common carpenter.”

  Lavinia could forgive an attack on herself, but not a slur on Hayward. “You’d better keep your tongue to yourself,” she said angrily, “and start worrying about what Miss Tabard’s going to do if she finds out it was you who damaged her property. Have you any idea how much money this flood is going to cost her?”

  “She can afford it! Have you any notion how much heart-scalding you’ve caused me?”

  Nellie Smith’s dry lips drew back from her neglected countrywoman’s teeth. Her red hands crisped into claws. She was a snarling, raging animal, crouched to attack the huntress who had driven her into a corner.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Yoo-hoo, we’re back!”

  Zilpha’s silver carol splintered the moment of tension. “We forgot the address and had to turn around. Lavvy, where are you? Roland?”

  “Roland went back to work,” Lavinia called out. “I’m in my room.”

  “Oh, aren’t you feeling well?”

  Miss Tabard’s quick, light step sounded across the kitchen, followed by her companion’s solid thump-thump-thump.

  “Dearest, can we get you anything?”

  Zilpha stopped short in the doorway. “I see you are well-attended. Who, may I ask, is this strange gentleman?”

  “He’s Joe Devine, the town constable,” Hayward Clinton told her.

  “How surprising.”

  Miss Tabard returned the young architect’s cool stare, not bothering to hide her dislike. “May I ask why you have seen fit to bring him into a young lady’s bedroom?”

  “You might as well climb off your high horse, Miss Tabard. I tried to tell you yesterday that we found fragments of Jenks’s body in the wreckage of the mill, just as Lavinia said we would.”

&nb
sp; “What’s that got to do with us?” Tetsy barked.

  “We don’t know yet.”

  Lavinia was choosing her words with care, watching Tetsy’s face. “We’ve only got as far as Mrs. Smith’s telling us how she found her uncle’s body at the foot of the cellar stairs with hand prints in green paint on the back of his coat. She thought it was Peter who pushed him.”

  The flicker in Tetsy’s bloodshot eyes told her what she’d already guessed.

  “But it wasn’t Peter, was it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do, Tetsy. That’s why you’ve been on pins and needles ever since I got here. That’s why you’re drunk half the time. That’s why you weren’t going to tell me about Mr. Jenks’s disappearance. That’s why you said this morning that you and Zilpha should never have come back to Dalby. You know who killed him, don’t you?”

  “You’re a liar! I—”

  “Tetsy, love,” Zilpha interrupted in her gentlest coo. “Please reflect before you speak. You know we agreed never to discuss this most unpleasant subject.”

  “Hold on, there, Miss Tabard,” said the constable. “Do you mean to tell me you two women shoved old Jenks downstairs and broke his neck, then walked away and left him lying there?”

  Zilpha gave him a freezing glance. “I mean to tell you no such thing. I really do not care to prolong this discussion.”

  “Zilpha, don’t be an utter fool,” cried Lavinia. “For once in your life, you’ve got to tell the truth whether it suits you or not.”

  “You can’t talk to Zilpha like that!”

  If the two men hadn’t grabbed her, Tetsy would have been at Lavinia’s throat. The incident told more than words ever could.

  “Was that how it happened with Jenks?” said Hayward. “We knew he’d been playing cat-and-mouse with Miss Tabard for a long time, but he’d told Ath and me he was sick of her pestering and was going to put an end to it. Did he throw you out, Miss Tabard?”

  “He was an odious man,” she replied stiffly.

  “I’ll grant you that, but the old cuss had a right to hold on to his own property if he chose. If he’d started to paint the kitchen, that proved he’d definitely made up his mind it wouldn’t be right to let the property go out of the family. Jenks would never have lifted a hand for strangers. You poked your nose in once too often, and he gave you your comeuppance, didn’t he?”

  “He called Zilpha an old—”

  “Tetsy!”

  “I’m sorry,” mumbled her companion.

  “This inquisition is both offensive and absurd,” said Miss Tabard crisply. “Very well, then, since you must have our story, Jenks informed us in the rudest way possible that he did intend to renege on his promise to sell me the property. So we left.”

  “That’s all fine and good,” Devine persisted, “but what else happened before you left? What about those hand prints on his coat?”

  “Oh, those?”

  Zilpha made a slight movement of her delicate shoulders. “Mrs. Smith has been totally misled as to their importance. As I recall, what actually happened was that Tetsy—er—placed her fingers lightly on Jenks’s shoulder in an attempt to make him listen to reason. We were both distressed to notice that she’d happened to rest her glove in the wet paint, so that certain smudges were inadvertently transferred to the man’s clothing. He was annoyed and drew away. Unfortunately, he’d been careless enough to leave the cellar door open.”

  “So he fell downstairs and bashed in his skull. And you two high-toned ladies went off and left him on that cold cellar floor.”

  The shock and abhorrence in Devine’s voice were too much even for Zilpha. She wet her lips. It was the first sign of embarrassment Lavinia had ever seen her display.

  “Under the circumstances, there was nothing else we could do.”

  “Why not? The pair of you could have got him upstairs between you easy enough. Jenks couldn’t have weighed much over a hundred and thirty pounds. What if he didn’t die right off? You could have taken him down to the doctor. You must have come in some kind of rig.”

  “Well, you see, that was our problem. We were with my cousin, Neill Tabard.”

  She turned to Lavinia, working her pretty mannerisms for all they were worth.

  “Neill had invited Tetsy and me to ride up to Lake Truance on the train, attend the ice races with him, then go back to Boston with him in his private railroad car. It sounded rather a lark, so we agreed. Neill met us with the cutter and Brown Bess. He was planning to enter her in one of the afternoon heats. We watched the early races, which was a charming spectacle, I must say, then Neill stood us lunch at the inn. That was when our difficulties began. You may remember dear Neill’s little failing?”

  “I know he was an awful soak.”

  “Lavvy, where do you pick up such vulgar expressions? In any event, Neill enjoyed his libations, shall we say, a little too freely. Tetsy and I then decided it would be tactful to take him for a little ride in the fresh air, with the hope that he might recover his senses before his heat came up. Tetsy had been yearning for a chance to drive Brown Bess, and I happened to recall that Lake Truance is only a few miles from Dalby, so we thought we might as well slide over and have a word with Jenks. Neill was asleep under the buffalo robe when we got here, so we left him in the cutter. No sooner had Jenks had his regrettable accident, however, then we heard Neill jangling the sleigh bells and making a dreadful hullabaloo out in the drive. He didn’t know where we’d brought him, you see, and he was in a great taking about missing his race, so we simply had to dash for the cutter and get him back to the lake as quickly as possible. He was furious for fear we’d winded Brown Bess, but she ran a magnificent race, so I’m sure the warmup run did her good.”

  “And Cousin Neill fell off the train on the way back to Boston and was killed,” said Lavinia slowly. “And you wouldn’t let me go to the funeral because I always did have a habit of asking the wrong questions.”

  “Lavvy, what an outrageous—”

  Miss Tabard’s voice faltered. She was being extremely careful not to meet her companion’s eyes. Tetsy’s face was a hideous yellow color by now. Nobody could doubt that Lavinia had hit the mark once more.

  Wily campaigner that she was, Miss Tabard tried a counterattack. “Tetsy and I naturally assumed that Jenks’s people would take care of him. Had we known they were going to behave in such a totally irresponsible manner—”

  “Zilpha, stop it! You’ve always got out of scrapes by putting somebody else in the wrong, but you can’t do it this time. Those hand prints were on the back of Jenks’s jacket. It was no accident, and you know it. Maybe Tetsy didn’t mean to kill him, but she did, and you put her up to killing Cousin Neill, too, because you knew he’d have enough wits about him to realize you’d taken Brown Bess to Dalby the day Jenks disappeared. You told me yourself the story was in the newspapers, and everybody in Boston knew you’d been hounding Jenks for years about the property. Tetsy would never have acted on her own, she’s too used to taking orders. You talked her into it, by wringing your beautiful hands and moaning about the scandal, didn’t you?”

  “Tetsy is a true and loyal friend. I will not have you accusing her of such terrible things.”

  “I’m only stating what happened. Thanks to Tetsy’s loyalty, two men are dead. Hayward and Roland have been cheated out of a dead man’s salary for seven years while they were wearing themselves out trying to cope with problems they shouldn’t have had. And Mrs. Smith has lived in hell, thinking her son was a murderer.”

  “But surely, Lavvy, if a woman has no faith in her own child …”

  Zilpha was going to get the upper hand in spite of them all. Mrs. Smith’s tragedy would turn out to be of her own making. In a way, it was. Pretty Nellie Jenks, the born victim.

  Zilpha would make it up to the woman in her own way, no doubt. She would file no complaint about the flood; probably nobody except the few people in this room right now would eve
r know who opened the sluice gates. There would be higher wages for less work, special tutoring for Peter, discreet settling of debts and smoothing of pathways. All Nellie Smith had to do was hold her tongue. Miss Tabard would discern what she needed, and Miss Mull woud see that she got it.

  No, maybe things weren’t going to work out quite that simply. Joe Devine was saying to Tetsy in a firm though embarrassed voice, “I guess you’d better come down to the town lockup, Ma’am, till I can get hold of the county sheriff.

  “Zilpha!”

  “Tetsy, dear,” said her patroness quite calmly, “I think it will be best for us both if you do as the constable asks. When the sheriff comes, just tell him the whole story, exactly as I have explained it, and I’m sure he will understand that this is nothing but a stupid misunderstanding.”

  “But what if he doesn’t?”

  “Then we shall have to find a way to convince him, won’t we? Tetsy, love, you know you can rely on my judgment, just as I trust in your absolute loyalty. We’re not going to let this unfortunate contretemps spoil a lifelong friendship, are we?”

  “No, Zilpha.”

  Hanging her head like a cow going to the slaughter, Miss Mull let herself be led away.

  “What will they do to her?” Lavinia whispered in sudden horror.

  “Nothing much, I expect,” Hayward reassured her. “There’s nothing to go on by way of evidence, and I’m sure Miss Tabard has a first-rate lawyer.”

  “Oh, yes,” cried Zilpha. “I must get hold of Palgrave at once. Lavvy, would you know how to send a telegram?”

  “Yes, Zilpha. What do you want to say?”

  “Dear me, I don’t quite know. We mustn’t let a word of this most unfortunate misunderstanding get out if we can possibly prevent it. Just tell Palgrave he must come at once. Really, I hardly know which way to turn. Whatever shall I do without my faithful Tetsy? Lavvy, you must be my strong right arm now.”

  Lavinia stiffened in horror as she saw the trap reopening. One week ago, desperate for a way out of the prison that was her life, she had made a bad rubbing of a defaced gravestone. Through that apparently useless act, she had come to find freedom and joy and strength, and someone with whom to share. Now Zilpha was saying that she must be a whole person no longer, but only a strong right arm. Did she have to obey?