Darkness at Pemberley

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Darkness at Pemberley Page 12

by T. H. White


  "I suppose it was sudden? He couldn't have known what was happening?"

  Charles hastened to assure her.

  "He hadn't even time to cry out," he said. "Buller was within a few yards of him all the time and heard nothing."

  Elizabeth exclaimed suddenly: "What an inhuman beast! What a devil! Poor old Kingdom. Chiz, I don't remember a time when there wasn't Kingdom at Pemberley!" She began to cry, with bitter dry sobs.

  Charles said: "Liz, darling, he was sixty-nine. He couldn't have lived very much longer. Don't cry, Liz."

  Elizabeth stopped crying as if a tap had been turned off. "Of course we shall go for him, now," she said. "You haven't told the police or anything?"

  "No. We'll do it ourselves."

  "Of course."

  Charles told her about Wilder's arrangements.

  "Thank goodness," said Elizabeth, "that we aren't popular in the village. That's one good thing about your drug business, darling. Pemberley's been a place apart ever since then, and I don't think any of the servants have much truck with the local people. There'll be no interest or servants' gossip at any rate."

  Charles assented.

  Elizabeth returned to an earlier subject.

  "Kingdom was with daddy," she said, "even when daddy was young. He was more a part of Pemberley than any of us."

  "Don't worry about him, Liz."

  "No, I don't. Even although it was our fault. This would never have happened to him if it hadn't been for us. But I know he wouldn't mind that. He'd be glad. Our business was his. Well, now his business is ours. Chiz, I know we shall kill that man now. I'm not afraid of him at all."

  Charles said softly, looking out of the window: "We're going to get him." There was an odd accent on the penultimate word.

  They sat in silence for a moment; then Elizabeth rose to go down to breakfast. She spoke in an even voice, almost with a note of wonder.

  "One of the first things I remember," she said, "was a white moustache."

  *****

  Wilder rang up his friend in Manchester before breakfast. He said: "Hullo, is that Edgeworth?"

  "Hullo, this is Wilder speaking——

  "Yes——

  "Yes——

  "Look here, I wonder if you can make an alteration?

  "Can you make it lighter than air and lethal?"

  *****

  Mr. Edgeworth arrived by an afternoon train. He was a leathery man with a drooping moustache who smoked endless cigarettes. His fingers were yellow, and the cigarette hung from his lower lip. He wore steel spectacles from behind which a pair of baleful eyes twinkled benevolently.

  He said: "Your last minute alteration held me up a bit, but it makes it more amusing. Now where are these rats?"

  He insisted on referring to Mauleverer as "rats" during his whole stay, to such an extent that Elizabeth asked Wilder whether he really knew what they were after.

  "Of course," said Wilder. "I told him the whole story. It was only fair. But this is his way of showing he can be discreet about it."

  "But isn't this rather cold-blooded of him? After all, it isn't his quarrel."

  "He knows what he's up to, and he wouldn't do it without thinking about it first. He doesn't say anything about it, but he's thought it out. He's a queer fellow: most people think him a little mad. He has a different way of looking at things, and he trusts me. That's all there is to it." Wilder added after a moment: "Actually, he's a genius. Half his reason for coming here, I suppose, is the desire to experiment. It's an extreme form of vivisection. Ordinarily he has to work with guinea-pigs: when he's lucky he gets a monkey: but a man's a positive windfall. He's thinking in terms of science, you see, and Mauleverer's a unit in some equation."

  Elizabeth said: "I don't like men who apply their science to making murderous weapons of war."

  "But you'd like Edgeworth. He's the sincerest man, really, and an idealist. I gather that he doesn't believe in peace and does believe in nationalism. But for God's sake don't let's start an argument. I like Edgeworth personally, and he likes me. The main thing is to get Mauleverer."

  Meanwhile Buller was talking to the assembled male members of the staff. He had selected the Wren summer house for his staff-lecture.

  "I want you to understand the position," he said, "because it's only fair that you should know what you're in for. The man who did these Cambridge murders which you've read about can't be connected with them. I told Sir Charles who it was, and he decided to take the law into his own hands. He visited the man and told him he was going to kill him. He didn't realise at the time what that involved. Now the man has decided to kill Sir Charles, and that's what all the rumpus has been about in the past few days. We believe that the man has hidden himself in the chimneys. He has tried to kill Sir Charles with a tile from the stable roof, and he has been trying to scare the staff by putting a skull in Mrs. Bossom's bedroom and by drawing a skull on Miss Elizabeth's looking-glass. Last night we tried to trap him by posting guards in three of the four places where he usually seemed to go for water. He visited all these places without being caught and killed Kingdom where he was guarding the passage alone, as a reprisal. We have not informed the police, and Dr. Wilder has given a death certificate. The object of this is that we may revenge Kingdom ourselves, not entirely from animosity but so as to be sure of it. If what we have done leaks out to the police we are all liable to imprisonment, perhaps worse. I understand that you are all agreed to stand by Sir Charles?"

  Smith, speaking for the household, said: "We are all agreed, sir, and we want you to understand that there is nobody here who would not rather go to prison than let Sir Charles down or Mr. Kingdom go to his grave without being paid for."

  The others murmured encouragingly.

  Buller went on: "Very well. Sir Charles and Miss Elizabeth were quite sure that this was what you would say. In fact we have chanced it, for we have committed ourselves already. It was hoped that we could keep you out of it, more or less, but now that's impossible. What I want you to do now is to keep your wives out of it as much as possible. Cook and the maids are to go to the North Lodge this afternoon and we shall take tea and dinner there. We hope that you will be able to make them believe, or at least leave them able to believe, that Kingdom died from an infectious disease and that the house is being fumigated. It's a poor story, but it will have to do."

  Buller took a breath and went on: "Dr. Wilder has brought a friend down who is an expert on poison gas. We are going to close and bolt all the windows and doors and then Mr. Wilder's friend will release this stuff in the hall and in all four of the main chimney stacks. The gas is lighter than air and will go upwards. You, meanwhile, will be posted in a cordon right round the house so that if this man tries to make a bolt for it you can stop him. I want you to shoot him dead. If he comes to a window to open it, let him have it. If he breaks from a door, bowl him over. Those of you who have to use shotguns wait till you can get a close shot and don't aim low. Shout if you get him, and I will finish him off if necessary. This is the most merciful thing. We do not wish to attack him with hatred, for he is mad. It is useless to do anything on account of Kingdom now; revenge will do him no good. We are doing this for the sake of Sir Charles's safety. Does everybody agree and understand?"

  Everybody said: "I agree," the male voices making a steadfast and quiet rumble.

  Buller added: "Just one thing more. We are afraid that the man may have escaped already. That was an additional reason for not calling in the police. In case he has we shall have to be prepared to carry on the defensive perhaps for a long time. He may come back again. In any case we shall give him the gas for two hours to make sure of him, if he is there. I hope he is, and I hope you will shoot straight if necessary. Sir Charles will issue the guns in an hour or so, when the gas cylinders arrive. They are coming by road. Does anybody wish to ask any questions?"

  There was a restless movement of feet, but nobody spoke.

  "Very well," said Buller. "When the lorry comes I
should like to have you all here. In the meantime, keeper, you might post a couple of look-outs just in case the man tries to bolt before we get going."

  Buller left them and went in search of Elizabeth. It was the first time he had seen her alone that day, and he could not do without her.

  "Come for a drive," he said. "Nothing can happen for a couple of hours yet. It will do you good."

  Elizabeth asked: "What about Chiz? He oughtn't to come out of his room like he did this morning till we're sure, ought he?"

  "Somebody had to break it to you," said Buller, "so I let him. But he's back there now, with a fire, and he won't come out till we start the gas."

  "Is he alone?"

  "Yes, Wilder's talking to his friend. But it's all right. Nobody can get at him with the door and window bolted and the fire going. He's quite capable of looking after himself since last night.

  Elizabeth said: "Well, I should love a drive."

  As the car left the park gates Buller remarked wearily: "We've got out of that place for a bit, anyway."

  "Thank God. Don't let's talk about it."

  "It's a fine house, for all that. What have you been doing there all these years since Charles lost his wife?"

  "Waiting about, I suppose," replied Elizabeth. She took the cigarette from her lips with a sharp movement of her hand and looked out of the near window bitterly. Buller's eyes were on the road in front of them. He pressed the accelerator a little more.

  "Well, I must say you're making up for the lack of excitement now."

  "Yes," said Elizabeth

  "It seems silly to say you're being very brave about it. That's the sort of thing one says to children. You don't give one the impression that there's any reason why you shouldn't be. Women are different from what I was always given to understand they were."

  "You should study them." There was no irony in Elizabeth's voice.

  "I don't understand them."

  "You aren't interested in them is what you mean."

  "I suppose not," said Buller loyally, to the only thing in which he was really interested in the wide world.

  The speedometer crept to sixty.

  *****

  When they got back a lorry was standing in the drive, with Edgeworth beside it talking to a bright little man in horn-rimmed spectacles.

  Edgeworth said: "This is my assistant Hankey. He is going to help us get rid of these rats." He added with a trace of significance: "Hankey has an open scientific mind like my own." Wilder had evidently been talking to him.

  Buller said: "Well, if you'll start getting the windows closed and so forth I'll assemble the emergency rat-killers."

  He went off to the summer house, where the men were sitting patiently, smoking their pipes. They put them in their pockets deferentially, and stood up.

  The gamekeeper came forward, touching his hat.

  "I beg pardon, sir," he said, and waited for encouragement.

  "Yes?"

  "Sir Charles has given out the guns, sir, and what with the keeper's guns and the gardeners—we all does a little bit of rabbiting—there's something for everybody. Shotguns and that. But it's these two express rifles I was thinking of, them and the revolvers. Sir Charles was saying that there was three revolvers between us. That and the expresses makes five, and there's six doors on the ground floor in the main building. I was thinking, sir, that you, sir, and Dr. Wilder could watch the two doors on this side the house with your revolvers. Sir Charles was wanting to take the front door with his, and Smith and myself, sir, if you was willing, could cover the three doors on the stable side easy."

  "You know the lie of this place better than I do," said Buller. "You'd better post the men yourself. We can put the shotguns further back, at the corners, as a reserve line."

  He left the rest of the dispositions entirely to the keeper and went back towards the lorry. Elizabeth was still in the coupé. He leant in at the window and said:

  "Wouldn't it be a good idea if you saw that the maids were behaving themselves at the North Lodge?"

  Elizabeth replied, with pardonable irritation: "My dear man, where on earth do you get your ideas about women from? Your period's about 1850. I'm going to stay here and see the fun. Why should I be bundled off to the Lodge any more than you?"

  But Buller was adamant, and, for him, surprisingly guileful.

  "It isn't a question of not being allowed to watch," he said. "I want you to go over there for just the reason I gave. We don't want to have the maids butting in on us and I'd like to be sure of their keeping to the Lodge by sending somebody there to keep them. After all, it's more in your line than anybody else's."

  Elizabeth said petulantly: "But I shall be worried out of my life if I don't know what's going on."

  "Well if you haven't the guts," said Buller, wondering if he could allow himself that word, "I'll send for one of the gardeners."

  Elizabeth said: "Curse you for saying that." She turned the car and drove off towards the Lodge.

  The cordon was drawn up and the two scientists came out of the front door.

  Edgeworth came up to Buller rubbing his hands.

  "The windows are all shut," he said, "and the cylinders are in the grates. I've put one in the billiard room as well as the hall, to make sure, for there looks as if there might be a different vent. Now, if your men are ready, Hankey and I will go in and set them off. If we give them two hours the house will have been permeated from cellar to attic. (I've put one in the cellar by the way.) You must tell your men not to come within the length of a cricket pitch, let's say, for the stuff is practically colourless. Actually there's no danger outside, with the windows and doors closed, for it won't spread as much as that. It'll go up. I hope nobody will elect to fly over Pemberley just now." He looked up cheerfully and bustled off to put on a gas mask.

  Buller stood on the lawn opposite his own door and waited. He kept his hand in his pocket, stroking the triggerguard of his revolver on the outside. About twenty yards away, on the opposite side of a yew tree, he occasionally caught glimpses of Wilder moving about. Wilder had lighted a cigarette, and seemed nervous.

  Buller was nervous too, but he stood quite still, watching the door and windows. For a few moments he saw Edgeworth, or his assistant, moving in the drawing-room. The mica goggles and tubular snout made it impossible to recognise the man, gave him an inhuman feeling of danger in the pit of his stomach. There was death in that quaint intent figure, a still suggestion of operating surgeons and silent overtakings. Buller sniffed the air with a faint nausea. He felt sure that he could hear a minor hissing, scarcely tuned to human ears. He cocked his head a little to one side. The air smelt queer, he was sure of it.

  He restrained an impulse to retreat another ten yards for safety's sake. He stood still, three at least of his five senses at a high pitch.

  Soon Edgeworth and the assistant joined him. They stood silently in a group, watching death trickle from the chimney pots, whilst Buller squeezed and squeezed, gently, at the outside of his triggerguard.

  CHAPTER XV

  After two hours Edgeworth snapped his watch shut with a click and turned to Buller.

  "That's that," he said. "If the rats are at home they're dead. Still, I should have liked to see a bolt."

  Buller moved restlessly.

  "So should I. What do we do now?"

  "Hankey and I will go in and open all the windows. Also we'll light some fires on the ground floor to get an upward draught. It's six o'clock now. If you dine at eight in the Lodge the house will be ready for you after dinner."

  "You'll be staying to dinner, I hope?" Buller asked.

  "No. Thank you very much. I should like to be back in Manchester to-night."

  *****

  They were still discussing the situation after dinner.

  Charles asked: "I suppose this stuff of your friend's was definitely lethal, Wilder? There couldn't be any mistake about that?"

  "No. That's quite sure."

  "It means, then, tha
t either Mauleverer had cleared off last night or early this morning, for fear of the police, or that he's dead somewhere in the chimneys?"

  "It's not like Mauleverer," said Buller, "to be caught napping. One would have thought that he'd have heard all the bustle of shutting the windows and getting the stuff going. On the other hand, he must sleep sometimes. He's been doing his work at night, so perhaps he sleeps during the day time. He may have died in his sleep."

  "I can't understand," said Elizabeth parenthetically, "how he could find anywhere to sleep in, in a chimney, still less how he managed to get about in them so well."

  "The chimneys aren't all straight up and down. The four main shafts go straight up, and you can see the sky if you look up them. But the other rooms come into them at various angles. In fact there's a regular tissue of passages all through the house, with ledges and turns, just like the sewers or catacombs of big cities. He would find plenty of nooks to sleep in. It's more difficult to understand how he gets about in the sheer drops than how he can find a ledge."

  "You speak as though he was still there."

  "I hope he is there—dead. We shall have to make a thorough search for the body to-morrow, when it's light."

  Wilder said: "Well, he had a good death if he died sleeping."

  The talk took a more general turn.

  "I don't think so," said Elizabeth. "Poor wretch, I'd rather do anything than die in my sleep."

  Wilder was interested. "Why?" he asked.

  "Oh, I don't know. You wouldn't be ready. It would catch you just between wind and water."

  "But you wouldn't know anything about it."

  "Oh yes, you would."

  Charles said: "Death is an extraordinary thing. I've thought about it a lot. I've even decided what the best sort of death is."

  "And what would that be?"

 

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