“But did you find out anything? Didn’t the doctor get any answers to his telegrams?”
“Yup. The druggist in Plymouth says those powders was headache powders, good an’ plain an’ simple. The lawyers say that they got a cable day before yest’day from Desire Allerton in Cannes. She’s cornin’ next week. So that sort of finishes with this girl for the time bein’. If she’s a stranger, she wouldn’t of known about the candles an’ Mary makin’ ’em. An’ Stires’s manager at the fac’try says the same thing about that Newell Comp’ny that Blake said. Says Hobart got gypped an’ he don’t see why Hobart didn’t know it.”
“All of which,” I commented, “is not a lot of help. Did I tell you about Rowena and her ink-bottle top?” Asey grinned. “Nope.”
So I told him Rowena’s idea for finding the murderer by the ink bottle, and he laughed.
“If she wants to set an ink bottle in a good c’nspicuous place an’ wait for some one to put the top on, she can. If the guy that planted the arsenic did put it on, he’ll get the idea in a minute an’ never touch it, if he’s the feller I take him for. An’ prob’ly every one’ll put it on, just to make matters good an’ mixed. But let her try it if she wants to.”
He went off and returned with William.
“Some more things I want to ask you about them candles,” he said. “I know Stires always used ’em an’ Mary Gross always made ’em, but who got ’em? Who brought ’em this time? Where’d the ones in the house come from?”
“Some of them, sir, came from the Orleans house. The rest Mr. Hobart and Mr. James brought with them when they came on Tuesday.”
“Who put the candles around in the rooms?”
“I did. Usually my wife does, but she was very busy that day.”
“ ’Member which you used?”
“Oh, yes. The ones we had here from the other house. The new ones we used in the candelabras that night and we’ve been using them since.”
“All of ’em look alike? The new ones wasn’t any dif’rent?”
“Not that I noticed, sir. They’re always bigger than ordinary candles, because all of Mr. Stires’s holders were old ones and needed big candles. They were hand made, so of course they weren’t exactly the same size always.”
Asey nodded. “Okay, William. That’s all for now, thanks. Doc, I’m goin’ up an’ see what I can d’scover about the rest of these fellers an’ candles an’ one thing an’ another.”
“Good idea,” the doctor said. “I’m going to go and supervise Phrone while she gets some food for Miss Prue. Be all right alone here?”
“Of course I will. And I’m perfectly able to get up and eat. There’s no point in my staying here longer.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind. You stay put until you’ve had something to eat. If you want anything, sing out.”
They had no sooner disappeared up the stairs than Denny came down.
“How are you, Prue?” he asked anxiously.
“Flourishing,” I said. “Flourishing.”
“Look here, Prue, I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise that you won’t go wandering off into strange places with Asey Mayo again. Not that I don’t like Asey. I do. I think Asey’s a fine man. A——”
“I know. An upstanding citizen. A diamond in the rough. One of nature’s noblemen.”
“That’s not what I mean at all. What I mean is, he’s all right, but you can’t tell how many more closets he might shut himself up in.”
“Shut himself up——” Then I stopped, realizing that the rest probably had not been told about the candles and about our being locked in.
“Yes. So, Prue, won’t you be careful? I mean, if Mayo decided to investigate a meat chopper or a hand grenade or something of the sort, won’t you please let him do it alone? Won’t you promise me that?”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll promise not to help him if he opens a bomb. I’ll be careful.”
“Thank God. Now, Prue, twenty-seven years ago——”
I covered my ears. “Dear lord, Denny, not that. Please, don’t let’s start that now. I—really, I’ve been through enough for one day.”
“Very well,” he said stiffly, and left as Walker came down the stairs with Phrone.
She bustled around with a trayful of food and generally made me feel as though I were recovering from a siege of double pneumonia.
“I’m certainly glad,” she said, “that Darlin’ got here at last.”
“Darling who?”
“Darlin’, the undertaker. He’s takin’ Stires up to town. Miss Whitsby, you don’t know how stirred up folks is about Mr. Stires. Wouldn’t b’lieve it, at first. Don’t know when I’ve seen people more upset.”
“I can imagine,” I said dryly. “Doctor, did you notify the county officials and all that sort of thing?”
“Yes. I called up all the people Asey told me to.”
“Are they going to send down men, or what?”
“No. Burnett, the head push, seems to have a lot of faith in Asey. He said that Asey had been in on it all and probably could do as much as any one else, right now. He’s sending down some men to help Asey, though. The road will be cleared out by to-morrow and I suppose they’ll be here then. I had a notion that they’d put some one else in charge.”
“I guess you forget,” Phrone said, “that Asey Mayo’s got to the bottom of one murder an’ if he’s done it once, he can do it again. That’s what they said uptown, that it was lucky Asey was around.”
It was fully an hour before Asey returned.
He sat down in one of the big leather armchairs, bit a hunk from his plug and chewed viciously.
“What have you found out?” Walker asked amusedly.
“Wait a minute.”
“What for?”
“I’m countin’ to five hundred by ones an’ I ain’t quite through yet.” His lips moved noiselessly. “There. Jehostophat! Jehostophat! Jumpin’ Jehostophat!”
“What’s the matter?” I asked laughingly.
“Matter? Matter! Huh. I set out t’ see if any of these people knew anything about candles. I didn’t expect any one of ’em would. An’ what do you think?”
“All of ’em do, I suppose,” the doctor sighed.
“All of ’em, ’cept the Blakes, every dum one of ’em, mind you, got candles from Mary Gross at one time or another. They admit it. They more’n admit it. They told me stories about candles till I wanted to howl like a dog.”
“Even the girl?”
“No. Not her, either, far’s I know. She’s gone off to bed an’ I sort of didn’t think it was worth it to get her up. Wouldn’t that jar you?”
“It would and it does,” I said. “Tell us.”
“Well, your friend Denny James got the candles when him an’ Hobart stopped there Tuesday when they was gettin’ things on Stires’s list. N’en he had a friend who had an old house an’ so he got candles made to fit some old candlesticks so’s he could give ’em to the friend. That was last fall. He often got candles from Mary through Stires.”
The doctor raised his eyebrows.
“An’ John Kent, he got some around Christmas. Often went there with Stires, too. Hobart got some, by way of Kent b’cause he’d got so many before through Stires for his sister—that is, Hobart’s sister—that he didn’t want to bother Stires again.”
“What did they all get them through Stires for?”
“B’cause Mary was sort of temp’r’mental an’ she’d only make candles for her good customers, not for every Tom, Dick an’ Harry that wanted ’em. Guess she found out, too, that these fellers would pay more for ’em. Anyway, she’d always fill orders for Stires an’ for Kent. Denny an’ Hobart had a harder time.”
“And the Blakes never knew her, or bought candles?”
“That’s their story. An’ Miss Fible says she used the ole lady’s menagerie to model animals from for somethin’ or other she was makin’, an’ she got in Mary’s good graces an’ so Mary made candles for her. So
that’s that.”
“Then any one of them might have ordered the poisoned candles?”
“Looks that way. Mebbe the Blakes did, for all we know. The others all admit gettin’ ’em.”
“What about the servants, Asey?” I asked. “Are you sure that they haven’t something to do with all of this?”
“I’m pretty sure an’ I’ll tell you why. This job ain’t somethin’ that any one of these hired help could think up, let alone carry out. Lewis is okay, he’s a good cook, I shouldn’t wonder, but he ain’t no mental whiz. Can’t even light a kerosene stove. William, well, him an’ his wife is more int’rested in what Evangeline Adams says the stars’ll do an’ what the tea leaves say than they are in anything else. Tom’s all right, but he’s the sort of feller that you have to tell what to do; he can do it all right, but he wouldn’t never think of doin’ it if you hadn’t of told him. An’ that hatchet-faced Kelley, well, he never even saw Stires. I’m rulin’ them servants out. It wasn’t one of them.”
“Did you find out where every one was just after we were locked up? Can’t you find out who slammed that closet door?”
“I asked Miss Fible. She says she left the room not long after we went down-stairs. Wanted a nail file on account of that clay gettin’ under her nails an’ botherin’ her. Says Hobart went out in the hall to get some matches, she remembers that because she wanted some herself. Says June an’ the girl was scribblin’ notes back an’ forth on a piece of paper an’ that Kent an’ Denny wandered around. Says they was playin’ bridge, but that they stopped just after she met us in the hall.”
“Which means,” the doctor said, “that any one of ’em could have gone down-stairs.”
“Uh-huh. An’ I found out how the feller slammed the door without me hearin’ him come in. I wondered about that b’cause I got a sort of sharp set of ears. He follered us down an’ on his way into the cellar he picked up a billiard cue an’ then he slunk around an’ pushed the door shut with that. Probably jerked that little piece of wood out of the way beforehand.”
“What makes you think the person used the cue?”
“Found a little blue chalk mark on the door where the tip of it was.”
“Couldn’t it have been one of the servants?”
“Tom an’ Kelley an’ Lewis was up in Lewis’s room playin’ cards an’ didn’t stir out of there. Mrs. Boles was up in her room markin’ linen. William was puttin’ the storeroom to rights.”
“Then couldn’t it have been William? We asked him about the key. It’s possible that he put it there himself.”
“Uh-huh. But it ain’t any more poss’ble than that Denny James put it there. He found it, he says. But we only got his say-so. An’ William didn’t have no more chance than Miss Fible, or Hobart, or Blake, or Kent. Or any one. Golly, this sort of beats me, this does. What with Mary dead an’ gone—we prob’ly shan’t know who she made these for. It’s all so anybody-might-of. I’d give my shirt to get an honest-to-God suspect, I would. This candle business may of cleared up how Stires got killed, but it sure robbed me of a couple of def’nite ideas.”
“Asey,” I said thoughtfully, “I have an idea.”
“Constant ’sociation with Miss Fible, I shouldn’t wonder,” he replied with a chuckle.
I laughed. “But, Asey, why did some one want to kill you so much that they didn’t care if they did away with me in the bargain? I mean, it seems to me that you must have found out something that this person thinks is important, so important that he’d rather have murdered the two of us than let it come out.”
Asey rubbed the back of his ear reflectively. “I didn’t ever think of it that way, Miss Prue. No, sir, I didn’t. Maybe this feller knows of somethin’ I’ve found out that’s important, but, by golly, I’m dummed if I know what it’s all about.”
“On the other hand,” Walker suggested, “it’s just as possible the other way around. I mean, it’s just as logical to assume that Miss Prue knows something, even if the full significance of it has escaped her, that’s dangerous to this person.”
I shook my head. “That’s impossible.”
“Walker,” Asey said suddenly, “I just thought of somethin’ I forgot to ask you about. When you come back an’ couldn’t find us, how did they all take it?”
“Well, Mr. James,” with a sidelong glance at me, “Mr. James was fit to be tied. Miss Fible was pretty worried. They all were. Then William came forward with this closet-and-key theory, and we promptly went to the attic.”
“But why the attic?”
“Why, I don’t remember. Let me see. James said he’d found a key. William said you’d asked him about it and that he told you it probably belonged either to the attic or the cellar closets. Miss Fible said she hadn’t noticed which way you went when she left you in the hall, she thought you’d gone up-stairs. Kent— yes, Kent said that we’d better try the cellar closets, and some one said it would be better to start at the top of the house and work down. We broke in the attic closet after considerable fuss and bother and then some one suggested—Asey, you’d better ask some one else. I was in such a state, all primed to tell you the news about Mary and then not able to find you, that I really don’t remember who did all that suggesting that delayed us so long.”
“Miss Fible,” Asey said, “will know. I’m sure of it.”
And Rowena did. “Who suggested the attic first and then rambled around opening every door on the second floor? Denny James. I could have boxed his ears at the way he held us all up. We’d have got you out of the closet an hour sooner if it hadn’t been for him.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MRS. HOWES
I DID not pass a happy night.
When I awoke Saturday morning Rowena’s bed was empty, but before I finished dressing, she came into the room.
“The road’s been opened,” she informed me, “and some burly gentlemen have been sent down to help Asey. They’re stationed around the doors and William tells me there’s a motorcycle cop at either end of the road. The phones are in order and there’ve been so many calls that they’ve had to warn the operator to put through calls only from certain people. Phrone says that they’ve had to corral extra girls to handle things. And the place was swarming with reporters, but Asey got rid of ’em.”
“Did they see you?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“I regret to say that they did. Head-lines again, Prue. ‘Spinster Sculptress at Stires Killing. From Chicago to Cape Cod, Says Miss Fible, is from Frying-Pan to Fire.’ I know it’ll be something like that. I can feel it coming. I tried to hide, but that obnoxious Johnson man saw me and pounced on me. We,—well, we’ve met before. There wasn’t any use trying to evade him. But Asey was marvelous. He sent them on some wild-goose chase after a man with a white beard. I didn’t get the whole story, but it was good enough to make them go. The motorcycle cops have orders not to let ’em back. Asey gave out a list of the guests and those reporters just gasped. Said it sounded like a conference to cancel the national debt.”
“Asey is still in charge?”
“Yes, thank goodness. I was rather afraid that they’d put in some bull-necked individual, but they’re showing unusual intelligence. Oh, yes. The lawyer is coming some time this afternoon, Phrone tells me. That woman’s a marvel. She knows more that goes on in this house than the rest of us combined. I’ll wager she could even give Asey points. How d’you feel this morning, by the way?”
“Practically normal, thank you.”
“Um. Prue, will you tell me something?”
“Depends.”
“Prue, was that closet episode yesterday accidental, or intentional?”
I shrugged. “What do you think?”
“I don’t think it was accidental. I don’t think Asey’s the sort to let a spring lock fool him. Who locked you in?”
“That’s something I’d give a lot to know.”
She nodded. “Then you were locked in. I see. Come along and get some breakfast. Lewis is up, superint
ending Phrone, and she’s furious. I’m interested to see just how the meal is going to turn out.”
As far as the food was concerned, the meal was a huge success. Socially, it was a failure. Denny contented himself with an orange, and even June’s appetite was beginning to fade. The weather was the sole topic of conversation.
Just as we were getting up from the table, one of Asey’s new assistants appeared in the doorway.
“There’s a woman here, and she won’t go away. She says she’s got to see you. The state cops couldn’t keep her away.”
“Who is it?”
“Name of Howes, she says.”
Asey laughed. “Lyddy, huh? Well, let her in. If she’s got by the crowd of you, she deserves to be let in.”
“Isn’t she the doctor’s housekeeper?” I asked as we went into the library.
“Yup. She is. But that ain’t what she’s here for. The doc’s gone back to town an’ she’d of seen him most likely. She’s some r’lation of Mary Gross, an’ I was plannin’ on goin’ up an’ seein’ her to-day about Mary anyway. H’lo, Mis’ Howes!”
She bustled into the room, her galoshes flopping and her red knitted muffler streaming out behind. She was one of those women whose clothes always seem to be making a tremendous effort to catch up with the rest of her.
“Well,” she greeted us, “well! Why, hullo, Miss Whitsby. I hadn’t heard that you was here. Well, if I didn’t have a time gettin’ here I I says to all those fellers outside, I says, I guess I got the right to see the sheriff of this town if I want to. I’m a taxpayer, I told ’em, an’ just as good as anybody else. I guess that took the starch out of ’em.”
“Take off your coat,” Asey said hospitably. “Take off your coat an’ set a while. How’d you come over here?”
She unwound the red muffler. “Come in the flivver, an’ if I didn’t have a time with it! Now, I want to know all about Mary Gross. I was workin’ so hard yest’day afternoon paintin’ my settin’-room floor that I didn’t go up-town at all. Just this mornin’ I was startin’ up for my mail an’ the doctor come and told me about her. ‘What’s the matter with her?’ says I. ‘She’s been poisoned,’ says he. So I told him I was goin’ to come right over to see you an’ get to the bottom of it all. Mary Gross was as good a woman as ever lived an’ what a body’d want to poison her for, I for one don’t know. And,” she took the first breath she’d drawn since she started, “and I’m the only livin’ relation she’s got in this world. Her great-greatgrandfather, an’ my great-great-grandfather was half——”
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