'In co - operation with - Mills,' boomed Dr Fell, with a sardonic leer. He was puffing again. 'Can you think of any two less likely conspirators to band together at the dark of the moon and hoodwink the police with their imaginative fairy - tales? She might wear a mask; I mean a figurative mask in life. Mills might wear a mask. But the combination of those two masks, and their activities, is too much. I prefer the one literal false face. Besides, bear in mind that as the double killer Ernestine D. is absolutely O - U - T. Why? Because at the time of Fley's death sworn to by three good men and true, she was here in this room, talking to us.' He pondered, and a twinkle began to appear in his eye. ' Or will you drag in the second generation? Rosette is Grimaud's daughter; suppose the mysterious Stuart Mills is really the son of the dead brother Henri?'
About to reply, Hadley checked himself and studied Dr Fell. He sat down on the edge of the desk.
'I know this mood. I know it very well,' he asserted with the air of one who confirms a sinister suspicion. 'It's the beginning of some more blasted mystification, and there's no use arguing with you now. Why are you so anxious for me to believe the story?'
'First,' said Dr Fell, 'because I wish to force it into your, head that Mills told the truth ...'
'You mean, as a point in the mystification, in order to prove later that he didn't? The sort of low trick you played me in that Death - Watch case?'
The doctor ignored this with a testy grunt. 'And second, because I know the real murderer.'
'Who is somebody we've seen and talked to?'
'Oh, yes; very much so.'
'And have we got a chance of -?'
Dr Fell, an absent, fierce, almost pitying expression on his red face, stared for some time at the desk.
'Yes, Lord help us all,', he said, in a curious tone, 'I suppose you've got to. In the meantime, I'm going home...'
'Home?'
'To apply Gross's test,' said Dr Fell.
He turned away, but he did not immediately go. As the muddy light deepened to purple, and dust - coloured shadows swallowed up the room, he remained for a long time staring at the slashed picture which caught the last glow with its turbulent power, and the three coffins that were filled at last.
CHAPTER 19
THE HOLLOW MAN
THAT night Dr Fell shut himself up in the small cubbyhole off the library which was reserved for what he called his scientific experiments, and what Mrs Fell called 'that horrible messing about'. Now a liking for messing about is one of the best of human traits, and Rampole and Dorothy both offered to assist. But the doctor was so serious, and so unwontedly troubled, that they left off with an uncomfortable feeling that to make a joke would be bad taste. The tireless Hadley had already gone off to check alibis. Rampole left the matter with only one question.
'I know you're going to try to read those burnt letters,' he said, 'and I know you think they're important. But what do you expect to find?'
'The worst possible thing,' replied Dr Fell. 'The thing that last night could have made a fool of me.'
And with a sleepy shake of his head he closed the door.
Rampole and Dorothy sat on opposite sides of the fireplace, looking at each other. The snow was whirling outside and it was not a night to venture far. Rampole at first had an idea that he ought to invite Mangan out to dinner, to renew old times; but Mangan, when he telephoned, said that obviously Rosette could not go, and he had better remain with her. So the other two, Mrs Fell being at church, had the library to themselves for argument.
'Ever since last night,' commented her husband, 'I've been hearing about Gross's method for reading burnt letters. But nobody seems to know what it is. I suppose you mix chemicals or something?'
'I know what it is,' she told him, with an air of triumph. 'I looked it up while you people were dashing about this afternoon. And what's more, I bet you it won't work even if it is simple. I bet you anything it won't work!'
'You read Gross?'
'Well, I read it in English. It's simple enough. It says something like this. It says that anybody who has thrown letters on the fire will have noticed that the writing on the charred fragments stands out quite clearly, usually white or grey against a black background, but sometimes with the colours reversed. Did you ever notice that?'
'Can't say I have. But then I've seen very few open fires before I came to England. Is it true?'
She frowned. 'It works with cardboard boxes that have printing on them, boxes of soap - flakes or things like that. But regular writing - Anyway, here's what you're supposed to do. You get a lot of transparent tracing - paper and pin it to a board with drawing - pins. As you pick up each of the charred pieces of paper you cover a place on the tracing - paper with gum, and press the charred paper down on it ...'
'When it's crumpled up like that? It'll break, won't it?'
"Aha! That's the trick, Gross says. You have to soften the fragments. You arrange over and around the tracing - paper a frame two or three inches high, with all the bits under it. Then you stretch across a damp cloth folded several times. That puts the papers in a damp atmosphere, and they flatten out. When they're all flattened out and fixed, you cut out the tracing - paper round each separate fragment. Then you reconstruct them on a sheet of glass. Like a jig-saw puzzle. Afterwards you press a second sheet of glass over the first, and bind the edges, and look through both against the light. But I'll bet you anything you like - '
'We'll try it,' said Rampole, impressed and afire with the idea.
The experiments at burning paper were not a complete success. First he got an old letter out of his pocket and touched a match to it. Despite his frantic manoeuvring it soared up into flame, twitched round, sailed out of his hand, and shrank to rest on the hearth as not more than two inches of shrivelled blackness rolled up like an umbrella. Though they got down on their knees and scrutinized it from every angle, no writing was visible. Rampole burned several more pieces, which sailed apart like gentle sky - rockets and powdered the hearth. Then he began to get mad and burn everything within reach. And, the madder he got, the more convinced he grew that the trick could be worked somehow if he did it properly. Typewriting was tried; he tapped out 'Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party' a number of times on Dr Fell's machine; and presently the carpet was littered with floating fragments.
'Besides,' he argued, with his cheek against the floor and one eye closed as he studied them, 'these aren't charred - they're burnt to hell. They're too far gone to fulfil the conditions. Aha! Got it! I can see "party" as plain as day. It's much smaller than the actual typing; it seems to be indented on the black; but here it is. Have you got anything out of that hand - written letter?' .
Her own excitement was growing as she made a discovery. The words 'East 11th Street' stood out in dirty grey letters. With some care, but much powdering of the brittle pieces, they at last deciphered plainly the words 'Saturday night', 'ginch', 'hangover', and 'gin'. Rampole got up with satisfaction.
'If those pieces can be straightened out by dampness then it works!' he declared. 'The only thing is whether you could get enough words out of any letter to make sense of it. Besides, we're only amateurs; Gross could get the whole thing. But what does Dr Fell expect to find?'
This was the subject of an argument which was carried on far into the night.
'And with the case turned upside down,' Rampole pointed out, 'where do we go now for a motive? That's the crux of the whole business. There's no motive that could connect both Grimaud and Fley with the murderer! By the way, what's become of your wild theories last night, that the guilty person must be either Pettis or Burnaby?'
'Or the funny - faced blonde,' she corrected, with a certain emphasis on the term. 'I say, you know, what bothers me most is that overcoat changing colour and disappearing and all the rest of it. It seems to lead straight back to that house, or does it?' She brooded. 'No, I've changed my mind altogether. I don't think Pettis or Burnaby can be implicated. I don't even think the blon
de is. The possible murderer, I'm certain now, can be narrowed down to two other people.'
'Well?'
'It's either Drayman or O'Rourke,' she said firmly and added. 'You mark my words.'
Rampole stifled a strong protest. 'Yes, I'd thought of O'Rourke,' he admitted. 'But you're picking him for just two reasons. First because he's a trapeze man, and you associate a flying escape of some sort with the way this thing was done. But, so far as I can see, it's impossible. Second and more important, you're picking him for the reason that he doesn't seem to have any connexion with this case at all; that he's standing around for no good reason, and that's always a suspicious sign. Isn't that so?'
'Maybe.'
"Then Drayman - yes, Drayman might have been the only one who could now be associated with both Grimaud and Fley in the past. That's a point! H'm. Also, nobody saw him during the whole evening from dinner - time until a much later hour - eleven o'clock, anyhow. But I don't believe he's guilty. Tell you what: let's make a rough time - table of last night's events to get this thing straightened out. We'll put in everything, from dinner on. It'll have to be a very rough time - table, with a lot of guessing on smaller points. We don't know much definitely except the time of the actual murders and a few statements leading up to them, but we can make a stab at it. Our times before dinner are vague too. But let's say - '
Ho took out an envelope and wrote rapidly.
(About) 6.45 Mangan arrives, hangs his coat in the hall closet and sees a black overcoat hanging there.
(About) 6.48 (give her three minutes) Annie comes from the dining - room, switches off the light in the hall closet left burning by Mangan, and sees no overcoat at all.
(About) 6.55 (this is not specified, but we know it was before dinner) Mme Dumont looks into the hall closet and sees a yellow overcoat.
'I arrange it like that,' said Rampole, 'because presumably in the very brief time between Mangan's hanging up his own coat and going away with the light left on, Dumont didn't rush out to look in there before Annie came to turn the light off.'
The girl's eyes narrowed. 'Oo, wait! How do you know that? I mean, if the light wasn't on, how did she see a yellow coat at all?
There was a pause while they looked at each other. Rampole said:
'This is getting interesting. And, if it comes to that, why did she look in there anyhow? The point is this: If the sequence of times can be established at what I've written, that's reasonable. First, there's a black coat, which Mangan sees. Well, then somebody swipes the black coat just after Mangan goes - for what reason we don't know - and Annie sees nothing. Later the coat is replaced with a light tweed one. That sounds all right. But,' he cried, stabbing out with his pencil, 'if it worked the other way round, then either somebody is lying or the whole thing is impossible. In that case it doesn't matter what time Mangan arrived, because the whole business must have taken place in a matter of minutes or even seconds. See it? Boyd gets there, hangs his coat up, and walks away. Out comes Dumont, looks in, and walks away. Along comes Annie immediately afterwards, turns out the light, and she goes. In that short flash a black overcoat has first turned yellow and then disappeared. Which is impossible.'
'Well done!' said the other, beaming. 'Then which one was lying? I suppose you'll insist it wasn't your friend -'
'I certainly will. It's the Dumont woman, I'll bet you anything you like!'
'But she's not guilty. That's been proved. Besides, I like her.'
'Don't mix me up now,' Rampole urged. 'Let's go on with this time - table and see if we can discover anything else. Haa! Where were we? Yes. Dinner we'll put at seven o'clock, because we know it was over at seven - thirty. Hence -
'7.30 Rosette G. and Mangan go to drawing - room.
'7.30 Drayman goes upstairs to his room.
'7.30 E. Dumont - where she goes is not known, except that she remains in the house.
'7.30 Mills goes to downstairs library.
'7.30 Grimaud joins Mills in downstairs library, tells him to come upstairs about 9.30, since he expects a visitor then.
'Whoa! Here's a snag. I was just going to write that then Grimaud goes on to the drawing - room, and tells Mangan the visitor is expected at ten o'clock. But that won't do, because Rosette knew nothing about it, and yet she was with Mangan! The trouble is, Boyd didn't say exactly when he was told that. But it isn't important - Grimaud might have taken him aside or something like that. Similarly, we don't know when Madame Dumont was told to expect the visitor at nine - thirty; probably earlier. It amounts to the same thing.'
'Arc you sure it does?' inquired Dorothy, searching after cigarettes. 'H'm! Well, carry on.'
'(About) 7.35 Grimaud goes up to his study.
'7.35 to 9.30, no developments. Nobody moves. Heavy snow.
(About) 9.30 snow stops.
(About) 9.30 E. Dumont collects coffee - tray from Grimaud's study. Grimaud remarks that visitor will probably not come that night. E. Dumont leaves study just as -
(9.30) Mills comes upstairs.
'I don't think anything noticeable happened in the next interval. Mills was upstairs, Drayman in his room, and Rosette and Boyd in the front room with the radio on ... Wait! I'm forgetting something. A little while before the door - bell rang, Rosette heard a thud from somewhere out in the street, as though somebody had fallen off a high place...'
'How did she hear that if they had the radio on?'
'Apparently it wasn't playing loudly enough to - Yes, it was, though. It made such a racket they could hardly hear the fake "Pettis's" voice. But put that in order:
'9.45 Door - bell rings.
'9.45 to 9.50 E. Dumont goes to answer door; speaks to visitor (failing to recognize voice). She receives card, shuts the door on him, examines card and finds it blank, hesitates, and starts upstairs...
'9.45 to 9.50 Visitor, after E.D. has started upstairs, gets inside somehow, locks Rosette G. and Boyd M. in front room, answers their hail by imitating the voice of Pettis -'
'I don't like to keep on interrupting you,' cut in Dorothy. 'But doesn't it seem to have taken them a terribly long time to sing out and ask who the caller was? I mean, would anybody wait so long? If I were expecting a visitor like that, I know I should have piped up, "Hullo! who is it?" as soon as I heard the door open.'
'What are you trying to prove? Nothing? Sure of that? Don't be so hard on the blonde! It was some time before they expected anybody, remember - and that sniff of yours indicates prejudice. Let's continue, with the still inclusive times of nine - forty - five to nine - fifty, the interval between the moment X entered the house and the moment he entered Grimaud's study:
'9.45 to 9.50 Visitor follows E. Dumont upstairs, overtakes her in upper hall. He takes off cap and pulls down collar, but does not remove mask. Grimaud comes to the door, but does not recognize visitor. Visitor leaps inside and door is slammed. (This is attested by both E. Dumont and S. Mills.)
'9.50 to 10.10 Mills watches door from end of hall; Dumont watches same door from staircase landing.
'10.10 Shot is fired.
'10.10 to 10.12 Mangan in front room finds door to hall locked, on the inside.
'10.10 to 10.12 E. Dumont faints or is sick, and gets to her room. (N.B. - Drayman, asleep in his room, does not hear shot.)
'10.10 to 10.12 Mangan in front room finds door to hall locked, attempts to break it and fails. He then jumps out window, just as -
'10.12 We arrive outside; front door unlocked; we go up to study.
'10.12 to 10.15 Door is opened with pliers, Grimaud found shot.
'10.15 to 10.20 Investigation, ambulance sent for.
'10.20 Ambulance arrives. Grimaud removed. Rosette goes with him in ambulance. Boyd M., at orders from Hadley, goes downstairs to telephone police.
'Which,' Rampole pointed out with some satisfaction, ' absolutely clears both Rosette and Boyd. I don't even need to set down minute times there. The ambulance - men coming upstairs, the doctor's examination, the body taken down to the ambula
nce - all that in itself would have taken at least five minutes if they'd moved fast enough to slide down the banisters with that stretcher. By God! it's as plain as print when you write it out! It would have taken a good deal longer before they could get to the nursing - home - and yet Fley was shot in Cagliostro Street at just ten - twenty - five! Now, Rosette did ride over with the ambulance. Boyd was in the house when the ambulance - men arrived, because he came upstairs with them and went down after them. There's a fairly perfect alibi.'
'Oh, you don't need to think I'm so anxious to convict them! - especially Boyd, who's rather nice what little I've seen of him.' She frowned. 'That's always granting your guess that the ambulance didn't arrive at Grimaud's before ten - twenty.'
Rampole shrugged. ' If it did, he pointed out, ' then it flew over from Guilford Street. It wasn't sent for before ten-fifteen, and even so it's something like a miracle that they had it at Grimaud's in five minutes. No, Boyd and Rosette are out of it. Besides, now that I remember, she was at the nursing - home - in the presence of witnesses - when she saw the light in the window of Burnaby's flat at ten - thirty. Let's put the rest into the record and exonerate anyone else we can.
The Hollow Man Page 22