In the next hour we went over that house from the tiny one-room and open-space attic to the small round cellar under the kitchen. Asey and the doctor tackled the barn while Mrs. Howes and I flipped open the pages of every book in the house from the family Bible to old tracts like Hannah Hawkins, the Drunkard’s Daughter, in an effort to find something which would lead to the identity of the person who had ordered the poisoned candles.
We found book-markers of faded yarn, newspaper clippings of Lincoln’s death, marriage certificates and deeds and receipted bills of fifty years back. We went through albums filled with spotted tintypes and time-stained photographs.
At last, dirty and disheveled, we had to admit failure.
“One thing,” Mrs. Howes remarked briskly, “we won’t have to take the carpets up, ’cause they ain’t any, an’ I looked under the rugs. They used to be a real pretty carpet in here, sort of a tan color, it was, with nice red peonies. It wore out so around the edges that Mary was scared of trippin’ over it an’ failin’, so she took it up last year.”
“Nothin’ doin’?” Asey asked as he and the doctor, both looking rather the worse for wear, came in.
“Not a thing. Mrs. Howes, what in the world could Mary have done with all her papers and letters and things like that?”
“Prob’ly used ’em to start fires with,” Mrs. Howes replied promptly. “I sort of thought you wouldn’t find much. You see, she didn’t take a daily paper, or any other, for that matter. She never was a one to care much about what was goin’ on in the world. Sometimes I’d bring her over a paper, but she mostly used it for fires. She saw a picture of that Gandhi man in the last one I brought over, an’ she burned it right away. I can hear her now. ‘An’ him a grown man,’ that’s just what she said when she saw his clothes. ‘An’ him a grown man.’ ”
“I guess,” Asey sighed, “that it’s sort of like I suspected. We just come to a dead end.”
The kitchen door slammed suddenly and we all jumped.
Joe Bump, the village half-wit, stood in the doorway.
“H’lo,” Asey said, “h’lo, Joe. How’re you?”
“Fine. Where’s Mary?”
“You want her?”
He nodded. “Yup. Where’s Mary?”
“She’s not here,” I said.
“I want her.”
“She’s gone away, Joe,” the doctor said patiently. “She won’t be back.”
“Of course,” Joe said fretfully. “I forgot she was dead. What’ll I do with the kit?” And from the pocket of his worn leather coat he pulled a small black kitten whose eyes were barely opened.
“Where’d you get her?” Asey wanted to know.
“Him,” Joe corrected. “Him. They was goin’ to drown him, so I brung him to Mary.”
“He’s sweet,” I said, picking up the furry little ball.
“Nice cat.” Joe nodded his head. “Nice cat. Mother come from fish store, father come from Poor’s barn. Nice cat. Double paws.”
“What are you going to do with him?” I asked.
Joe shrugged. “Give him away. Too good to kill. Shouldn’t kill kittens.”
“See here,” I said, “I’ll take him. Ginger’s getting sort of set in his ways and he likes kittens. This one’ll cheer him up and stop him from being lazy. I’ll take him home with me to Boston, Joe.”
Joe nodded his approval. “Ginger’s a good cat. I seen him. This cat’ll be as good even if he ain’t got long fur. Shouldn’t kill cats. Shouldn’t kill anything, even people.”
“What you mean, Joe?” Asey asked slowly.
“Some one killed Mary,” he explained, waving a casual hand. “He drives a black car. Saw him Tuesday.”
“Joel” My arms were all goose-flesh and a shiver ran down my back. “What man? Tell us?”
“Know a lot that goes on in this town,” Joe announced proudly. “Man came up here Tuesday.” He counted on his fingers. “To-day’s Sat’dy, yest’dy Friday, next day Thursday, next day Wednesday. Next day to that I saw the man that killed Mary. He had a shiny car.”
“Who was he? Ever see him before?” Asey demanded.
“Yup. I come to give Mary some clams. Stopped on the way. Got here late. Real late.”
“He d’livers for some of the stores,” Asey murmured, “so that part’s most likely right. Go on, Joe.”
“Come up here an’ give ’em to Mary, went away. Just then I hear a car. I hid behind the bushes. Big black car comes up. Man drivin’. Bad face.”
“Joe, you say you seen him before. Where?”
“Drivin’ cars.”
“Where? In this town?”
“In this town an’ lots of other places,” Joe told him. “He’s out to the new house. Stires’s house. Man got killed there, too.”
“He drives a big black car, an’ he’s out to Stires’s, an’ you seen him drivin’ cars in this town an’ lots of other places? I don’t get you, Joe. What other places?”
“Movies. He drives a car in the movies, too.”
“What movie?”
“Last one.”
“Humpf.” Asey thought for a moment. Then he smiled. “Uh-huh. I was there. Big feller with a barrel chest?” He demonstrated a barrel chest. “Hard face, like an ax?”
Joe nodded delightedly.
“Who is it?” The doctor and I spoke in unison. “Kelley,” Asey said. “He’s a dead ringer for the feller that drove a car in that picture. I don’t remember his name, but him an’ Kelley could of been twins. I thought when I saw him the other day that I’d seen him somewhere before.”
“Kelley,” Joe cooed, scratching the kitten behind its tiny ears, “shouldn’t kill anything, not even cats.”
I shivered.
“How you so sure he killed Mary?” Asey asked.
“Killed people in the movies,” Joe returned with finality.
“Yup, he did. But what makes you think he killed Mary?”
“Who else would of?” Joe was getting tired of answering Asey’s questions. He shifted from one foot to the other and looked longingly at the door.
“You saw him go in? Did he go in?”
“He banged on the door an’ Mary let him in.”
“When’d he come out?”
“I don’t know. I went off.”
“Whyn’t you wait until he come out?” Asey asked, more in desperation, I think, than anything else.
“Cold.”
“An’ you’re sure it was the same man that went to Stires’s, the one you saw drivin’ a car in town?”
“Yup. I guess I’ll go now.”
“We’ll drive you back,” Asey said.
“In a car?” Joe beamed.
“Yup. Doc, when you get through, come over. Joe, you ride in the rumble.”
“Rum-ble rum-ble.” Joe laughed. He appeared to enjoy the sound of the word.
“What about the kitten?” Asey asked.
Mrs. Howes unwound her red scarf. “This’ll do for him. Keep him comfy. Don’t it beat all, what Joe told us? I don’t s’pose he’d ever of told if Asey hadn’t pumped him. I hope Joe ain’t makin’ this up. Sometimes he means to tell the truth, but he gets it all mixed up an’ twisted so’s you can’t always depend on him.”
The black kitten was wrapped up until only his nose protruded from the scarf. He mewed once or twice when the horn sounded, but on the whole he behaved himself very well.
We dropped Mrs. Howes at her gate, even though she plainly indicated that there was nothing she would have liked better than to accompany us, and we left Joe on the main street of the town. The bus, it seemed, was due, and he “always had t’ watch it.” We gave William’s list to the grocery clerk and hastened home.
Asey called for Kelley before he had taken off his coat and hat. Blake overheard him. “Nothing wrong, I hope?”
Asey shook his head, and it seemed to me that Blake looked relieved. “Kelley’s a good man,” he said almost apologetically, “but he will fight. He gets into scrapes very easily.�
�
Kelley came into the library. “Want me?”
“Where was you Tuesday night?”
“Nowheres.”
Asey narrowed his eyes. “Where was you Tuesday night, Kelley?”
“Oh, I went up-town. Had to have some oil put into the car. They had some here in the garage but it wasn’t the kind I use.”
“An’ then?”
“I come right back an’ went to bed.”
“Kelley,” Asey said smoothly, “just stop beatin’ around the bush. We got you. We know you went places an’ done things. You just break down an’ tell us about ’em.”
“Well,” Kelley looked at the ceiling, “after I got the oil put in, I went up to the pool-room an’ asked where I could get a drink. They told me some place out of town an’ I tried to find it.”
“Up on the Truro road?”
“I guess so. It was on the road that goes down the Cape. They told me I had to turn to the left an’ I made a wrong turn an’ got into some ole lady’s house an’ the next left, it landed me into some swamp. Then I come back.”
“Ever see the ole lady before?”
“No.”
“What she look like? What you say to her?”
“Heavy built dame, she was. Had a lot of gray hair down her back in a braid. I banged on the door for a long while before she answered. She called out first an’ asked who it was an’ I told her it was a customer. I thought I’d got to the right place. Then she come an’ opened the door an’ asked me what I wanted an’ I told her she ought to know.”
“What she say to that?”
“Asked me if I wanted candles. I thought it was some sort of a code so I said sure. Then she let me in, an’ I looked around an’ saw her bringin’ out candles, so I left. I backed out an’ beat it.”
“An’ you didn’t buy candles?”
“Say, what would I do with ’em? Of course I didn’t buy candles. I beat it. Then after I got in that swamp I decided that the boys was just havin’ fun with me an’ so I give it up an’ come back here.”
“You wasn’t sent there?”
“No, sir!”
“Never heard of the woman before?”
Kelley shook his head.
“Didn’t know she was killed the next night?”
“No. Was she?”
“That’s your story an’ you stick to it?”
Kelley looked blank. “That’s the truth. I just went in an’ come out again. I didn’t get candles for any one. I didn’t get any candles at all. I—I never saw the old lady before. I didn’t get anything for any one. I just wanted a drink.”
Asey leaned back in his chair and smiled sweetly at Kelley, who shuffled his feet nervously.
“Honest, Mr. Mayo, I didn’t get anything for anybody. I didn’t.”
Asey grinned and then he laughed.
“I tell you I didn’t get anything,” Kelley said, and he was beginning to get angry. “That’s the truth.”
“I know,” Asey murmured. “I know. Mama, I never touched the jam. Who said you touched it? Well, I didn’t. Sure, Kelley. You didn’t get anything for anybody. I didn’t even ask you if you did, ’f you rec’lect as much. Go on an’ tell me what else you didn’t do. I kind of enjoy this.”
Kelley’s face was very red.
“Go on,” Asey urged. “You didn’t get candles for any one.”
“Well, I didn’t get any candles or anything else for any one. An’ whoever’s been sayin’ that I did is a liar and a——”
“Cal’late so,” Asey said, “I cal’late so. Now——”
There was a knock on the door, and Blake came in.
He and Kelley exchanged a look.
“Mr. Blake,” Kelley said pleadingly, “this guy says I bought candles for some one from an ole lady that got killed. I don’t know what he’s tryin’ to accuse me of, but I wish you’d tell him it ain’t true.”
Blake turned inquiringly to Asey.
“I’m sure,” he said, and he almost purred, “I’m sure that Kelley’s telling you the truth. I’ve already told you that I never bought any candles from this woman who made Bert’s for him, and I assure you that Kelley never bought any for me, either. Really, Asey, I don’t see what all this bother about candles has to do with Bert in the first place. I think that some more direct action really might be advisable.”
He sat down and commenced his eternal twisting of his glasses.
“Make haste an’ stumble,” Asey replied cheerfully. “D’rect action’s all very well in its place, Mr. Blake. Maybe you just got a dif’rent idea of d’rect action than I have. Just what did you send Kelley after on Tuesday night to Mary Gross’s, Mr. Blake?”
“I did not send——” Blake began, but he was interrupted by the advent of Asey’s purple-shirted assistant, who rushed in, breathless, dripping wet and shivering with the cold.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A FIGHT
ASEY got up from his chair and went to the door. “Hey, Robbins! Kelley, you go stay with Robbins till I want you. Mr. Blake, I’ll see you later. Now, Pike, what’s the matter?”
“You said those fellers an’ all could take a walk, an’——”
“Wait up! Anybody beat it?”
“No. They ain’t beat it. They been heatin’ each other.”
“What? Who?”
“Yessir. The youngster an’ the girl an’ the tall lean one an’ the big feller an’ the one they call Denny, they all walked up the beach. We was nearly home again—just down there by the wharf when I looks up an’ sees the youngster an’ the lean one scramblin’ all over each other for dear life. Reg’lar rough an’ tumble.”
“June an’ Kent,” Asey said. “How’d it start?”
“Couldn’t say. The girl an’ the other man was ahead, then come these two, then me an’ the Denny one. We was about fifty feet behind. I’d dropped back to light a cig’ret, an’ when I looked up, they was goin’ at each other hammer an’ tongs. I tried to pry ’em apart——”
“Didn’t the other fellers help you?”
“Well, maybe they wanted to, but they didn’t do anything about it. An’ from what those two give me, I’d say that they didn’t want to be parted much. I told ’em to lay off, but they wouldn’t pay any attention to me. An’ after they’d bashed me a few, I got out of it. But I stopped ’em easy, after then.”
“How?”
“I bided my time, like, an’ tripped the young one an’ he went into the water. They was real close to the waves. Kind of worked down from high-water mark, like. Then the big feller went after the kid, an’ I tripped him as he went. Got wet gettin’ ’em in, but after a dousin’ they seemed to cool off a lot.”
Asey chuckled. “Fightin’, huh? Miss Prue, that makes me cheerful. I didn’t think any of these fellers except Hobart had the kind of polish that works off, but it kind of looks like they was all like the rest of us in spite of their clothes an’ their talk. Not as civ’lized as I’d thought. Did you get ’em back okay?”
“Yeah. I grabbed the youngster an’ told him I’d give him hell if he didn’t quiet down an’ then I told the older one to keep his distance. They come home all right. Both of ’em was soused under. They’d got soaked an’ I guess they was chilly enough to want to come back quick an’ peaceful by then.” He shivered. “I could do with some dry things myself.”
“Go get the butler an’ tell him to dig you up a dry outfit,” Asey directed. “Tell him to go to any wardrobe he thinks’ll fit an’ fix you up. Then take a good drink. An’ then tell William—no. Tell him as soon as he gets your clothes that I want to see that young feller down here pronto.”
The man departed; there was a little puddle of water on the floor where he had been standing.
“Wonder why those two should fight?” Asey mused. “I didn’t think Kent was the kind that’d go in for hammerin’ people, an’ somehow I didn’t think the kid had enough gumption. Say, what does that Kent feller do, anyway? He got a business?”
; “I don’t know that you’d call it a business. His particular hobby is ancestry, genealogy, and all that. He’s hunted the Kent family over most of the civilized world. The last I heard, he’d traced it back to some prophet or other. I never asked him because he’ll talk for hours when he gets started.”
“But don’t he do nothin’? I mean, how’s he live?”
“His family had a lot of money. His father owned the Clarion.”
“The newspaper?”
“Yes. But I don’t know if John has anything to do with it. I never gave it a thought, and I’m sure he’s never mentioned it.”
“Them reporters this mornin’ sort of bowed down on all fours to him,” Asey remarked, “so I guess he has. I kind of wondered at it then. Funny, now you come to think of it, he ain’t been mixed up in this attall.”
“What about Blake and Kelley, Asey?”
He shook his head. “I was bluffin’ Kelley, first. It never ’curred to me that there was anythin’ in it, not until he started denyin’ things so hearty. An’ then Blake was just sort of too smooth. There’s somethin’ up there. I wonder if it wouldn’t have something to do with this here fight.”
There was a hurried knock on the door and June entered. He wore a vivid silk dressing-gown over his trousers, and a silk scarf was tied carelessly about his neck.
“Sorry, Snoodles,” he said with a grin, “but William told me Asey wanted me in a hurry and I didn’t take time out to clothe myself properly.”
His lip was cut and he dabbed at it with a handkerchief. There were two strips of adhesive plaster on his forehead and his left eye looked as though it were going to be beautifully black in a very short time indeed.
Asey looked at him, sniffed, and called William.
“Store boy brought up the groceries? Well, bring in a hunk of beefsteak.”
June tried to laugh, but his cut lip bothered him. Expertly Asey applied the steak.
“There,” he said. “Feel better?”
“Feel all well now,” June said facetiously, picking up the little black kitten. “Where’d you get this, Snoodles? Miss Fible’s got Ginger down in the game-room modeling him. Now she can make it into a family group. Asey, don’t scold Junior. He’s taken one beating.”
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