CHAPTER IX
HOW WE ESCAPED FROM WHAT WE FOUND THERE
We stood looking down upon her without speech. She was a tall, ratherthin woman of about fifty; Irish by the look of her, and still with someshare of earlier good looks. The hair that fell away loosely from herbroad forehead was black and straight, showing only here and there athread of silver. The large hands lay limply open, and the face wasdeathly white. She had fallen away from the door with her knees pressedclosely against it, as though she had been trying to open it when theblow came.
"Do you think she is dead?" Lady breathed at last.
"Of course not," I answered, but I was very much afraid. I knelt downbeside her and listened to her heart. I was not sure, but it seemed tome that it beat faintly; so faintly that it might have been only thedrumming of my own pulses in my ears.
"Can you find a mirror?" I asked from the floor.
Lady glanced vaguely about the room, then came back to me withuncomprehending eyes. "No, I can't see any. What for?" she said dully.
I sprang quickly to my feet. A chair lay overturned on the bare whiteboards of the floor, and I picked it up, setting it near the window.
"Sit there," I said, "while I rummage," and I drew her to it, halfforcing her down into it. She sat very still, mechanically obedient,while I looked around me.
It was a strange little room to find in this decaying tenement. On thesill of the single window that gave upon the street blossomed an unevenrow of geraniums. One pot had fallen to the floor and lay shattered, thefresh green of its broken plant piteous in a sprawl of scattered earth.The whole place bore evidence of an insistent struggle for thecheerfulness of a home. White, starchy curtains were at the windows; thewalls were fairly covered with pictures, colored prints for the mostpart, and supplements of Sunday papers. A bird-cage had hung in onecorner, and now lay, cage and bottom fallen apart, upon a muddle of seedand water; and a frightened canary perched upon the leg of a fallentable, blinking in the unsteady flare of the gas. The floor wasspotlessly clean, its worn boards white with scrubbing, save where theflower-pot and bird-cage had been overturned, and the dark stain spreadfrom beneath the woman's hair. The whole scene was unnaturally andstrangely vivid, all its little details leaping to the eye with thestark brilliance of a flashlight.
To the right of the door by which the woman lay was another door, and Icrossed over to it. It opened with a squeak, and for a moment I stoodlooking in. This was evidently the sleeping-room. It held only awashstand, a chest and an iron bedstead; and here, too, anunextinguished gas-jet flared. I stepped in and closed the door behindme, for upon the bed lay another huddled figure. It was a man lying facedownward, breathing heavily and evidently very drunk; for the wholeplace reeked sourly of alcohol. I pulled at his shoulder, turning himhalf over. For half a minute I held him so, then let him fall back as Ihad found him. I glanced behind me to be sure that the door was shut.The man on the bed muttered thickly, shifting his position; andsomething thudded upon the floor, and rolled to my feet. It was a shortbit of iron, rather more thick at one end than at the other; and as Iturned it over in my hands, it left a stain. Somewhere I had seen suchan instrument before, but I could not at the moment recall where; and Idropped the thing into my pocket not without some feeling of disgust. Asmall mirror hung over the washstand. This I hurriedly took down, and ashurriedly left the room, closing the door behind me. Lady was stillsitting where I had left her, but as I came across the room she got up.
"What are you going to do?" she asked. "I'm sure I can help in some way.You were gone a long time, but I waited."
"I'll show you in a moment," I said. We talked in whispers as if in thepresence of death; and yet I was almost sure that the woman was alive.Nevertheless, it was with a great deal of relief that I saw the mirrorsoftly cloud before her lips.
"It's all right," I cried. "She's alive."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
"Oh, thank God!" Lady breathed
"Amen," said I. "What are we to do now?"
"What do you think we had better do? Is there any water in there?"
"There's nothing in there that's of any use," I said quickly. "I shouldsay the first thing would be to send for an ambulance, and the next forthe police."
"No, no!" Lady cried. "Whatever is to be done we must do ourselves. Icame here to take her away. Can't we take her as she is?"
"She could be carried down-stairs easily enough," said I, surprised,"but somebody ought to be arrested for this thing. Have you any notionwho did it?"
"Her husband, I suppose," answered Lady bitterly. "He is like that whenhe has been drinking. Sheila was afraid something would happen when hecame back."
"Sheila?"
Lady glanced at the figure before us. "That is Sheila," she said. "Sheused to be my nurse."
I picked the woman up in my arms. She was heavier than I had thought;not beyond my strength, but more than I could walk with safely downthose crazy stairs.
"I'll call the chauffeur," I said. "He can help carry her down."
"Yes; but I'd rather he didn't see this."
"He'd see her anyhow, when we brought her down; and we can't doanything for her here. Where shall I put her?"
"Wasn't there a bed in that room?" she asked.
"Slip off your coat; she will be all right on the floor for a minute."
Lady took off the long coat and spread it upon the boards, takingSheila's hand in her lap as I laid her down upon it. I raised the littlewindow, and looked down into the street. The car stood there, its lightsglaring monstrously down the empty street.
"Hi!" I called. "You chauffeur! Leave the car and come up here."
Below, a figure detached itself from the shadow of the car. "What, sir?"he shouted up.
"Come up here; we want you."
The man did not answer, and turned back to his car. I watched himangrily, but after a moment he crossed the sidewalk and disappeared inthe hall doorway.
"I wouldn't blame her husband too surely," I said, as I turned from thewindow. "I think the man who struck her was an Italian."
Lady started. "What makes you think so?" she asked in a whisper.
I shook my head, but did not answer.
"Never mind," said Lady, "but you are right. Her husband is an Italian."
It was my turn to start. "What?" I cried. "Was he by any chance also asailor?"
She nodded, frightened eyes upon me. And I wondered what it was allabout, for the man lying upon the bed in the inner room was the man whomI had seen at the inn bar, the man who had threatened her father, theman to whom her--her husband had given money.
I met the chauffeur in the hall, puffing and evidently disgusted.
"A very low quarter, sir. I was afraid for my life below; and this is adirty, bad-smelling 'ouse, sir."
"Well," I said, "there is a woman who is sick in here, and Miss Taborhas come to take her away in the car. You are to help me to carry herdown."
He sniffed dolefully, and I opened the door, closing it quickly behindhim.
"Mrs. Carucci has been hurt," said Miss Tabor. "You are to help Mr.Crosby carry her down to the car."
The man stared at the woman on the floor. "Hurt?" he cried. "Mr. Crosbysaid she was ill." He glanced about the clean little room, disorderedby the violence that had passed, and shrank back against the wall,white and staring.
"What's that?" He pointed to the dark stain near the door.
"That," I answered lightly, "is none of your business. Suppose you takeher feet."
The man turned a sick green. "It's blood," he whispered. "It's murder."
"Nonsense, man; the woman is alive. She fell and hurt her head, that'sall. At any rate, we are going to take her where she can be cared for.Take her feet. We ought not to leave the car too long."
The fellow shook his head.
"She is dead," he repeated sullenly. "There has been murder done. I'llhave nothing to do with it."
Miss Tabor broke in: "Thomas, you heard what
Mr. Crosby said. You are tohelp him this instant."
"I am not," he said. "I have done more and seen more than a decent manshould, already. A fine district this is for this hour of the night,with cut-throats asleep in the street and a dead woman lying above. Igive notice now, and I go now."
"You'll do nothing of the kind," I retorted. "Have you no loyalty?"
"I am as honest as the next," he answered, "too honest, or I shouldhave gone a month ago. 'Tis no place for a decent, quiet man, what witha fly-by-night sawbones living in my garage, and all sorts of strangefolks going and coming at the house, and calls at all hours, and Lordknows what going on. 'Tis no decent place. I'm through right now! Forthe love of God, what's that?"
The sound had startled us all, and it was repeated--a sound betwixt agroan and a growl. I glanced toward the door of the inner room.
"My God!" cried Thomas. "There's another of them!" He started across theroom, but I was before him. I turned the key in the door, and placed myback against it. From within the growls came with greater frequency. Thechauffeur stood before me, shaking with the anger of terror.
"Very well," I said, "you go down to your car and start the engine. Iwill carry the woman down without you."
The man hesitated.
"Go!" I cried, and took a step forward. He whimpered out an oath, andturning, clattered down the stairs as if the devil were after him. Iturned to find Lady on her feet, staring at the closed door.
"Carucci?" she whispered.
I nodded, and went over to take up the woman.
"Wait a minute," cried Lady. "We can't leave the bird loose. She thinkseverything of him."
Somehow I did not laugh. "Very well," I said, "but be quick," and evenas I spoke there came a muttering of Italian; the bed creaked, the feetcame heavily to the floor. Lady stretched out her hand for the bird, butit fluttered off frightened to the geranium plants. A thud came againstthe locked door, and another drunken mutter of Italian. But now Lady hadthe bird safe, and I latched the cage top to its flooring, and held openthe door for her capture.
"You carry it," I said. "I'll take the woman."
We were just in time; for Carucci began to realize that he was lockedin, and the door shook under his fury. It was a weak-looking door atbest, and as we left the room, a lower panel splintered. We fairly randown-stairs, fearful every moment that the door would not hold longenough; for the whole building seemed to vibrate with the savage uproarabove. Here and there, as we turned down the dark hall, doors opened,and frightened faces, dull with sleep, looked out.
Once in the street, I pushed hurriedly through the knot of roughs thathad gathered peering and jeering around the car, and tore open the door.
"Quick! Get in!" I cried. Lady slipped past me and up the step.
"Give her to me," she said.
I put the woman in gently upon the seat, where Lady held her close. ThenI turned to the chauffeur in a fury, for the engine was not running. Hewas fumbling at the dash, while the onlookers jostled about him. I shookhim angrily.
"Start it, you fool!" I growled.
He shrank away from me. "I'm through, I told you. I'll have nothing todo with mur--" I slapped the word short with a swing of my open handacross his mouth. Without a word he turned and elbowed his way throughthe press behind us. I caught him by the arm.
"Give me that plug," I said, twisting it from his hand. And as I jammedit into its socket, I heard Lady's voice at my shoulder. She wasstanding on the curb, one hand upon the open door of the car.
"Can't you make it go?"
"It's all right," I shouted, reaching for the spark, "get inside!" andthe engine started with a snort and a howl. The crowd had begun tomutter threateningly, and as I sprang for the other side of the carthey jostled me back.
"Murder!" some one shouted hoarsely. "Police! police! police!"
From far down the block came the regular thud of running feet, and theshrill blast of a whistle; and along with it, a stumbling clatter fromthe tenement hallway, and Carucci, a great smear of blood across hisconvulsed and swollen face, lurched drunkenly to the sidewalk.
The Professor's Mystery Page 9