The Decagon House Murders

by Yukito Ayatsuji

  “Shut up!” Poe cried out angrily. “Don’t you talk about my mother!”

  Ellery whistled once and then kept quiet. Poe was still looking down, fists clenched, but finally a little laugh escaped his lips.

  “So you’re saying I might be insane? Rather a simplistic attempt at a motive.”

  Then his face grew dark and he glared grimly at both Ellery and Van.

  “Let me tell you this first: both of you have motives too.”

  “Oh really?” said Ellery. “Please do tell us about them.”

  “First you, Van. Your parents were murdered by robbers when you were in middle school. Your little sister too. So you might have an issue with us, a group of students who happily write about people being killed.”

  Van turned white as Poe spoke, but nevertheless managed to reply.

  “What happened to my family is in the past. And if I’d had a grudge against mystery writers, would I really have entered a mystery-fiction club in college?” Van spoke in a low voice. “What’s more, I don’t believe for a moment that mystery fiction praises murder. That’s why I’ve been in the club all this time and even agreed to come here with you all.”

  “Well, you would say that, Van. Who knows why you joined the club, maybe to get your revenge on us?”

  Poe changed targets.

  “And next up is Ellery.”

  “Yes. What would my motive be?”

  “You claimed it didn’t bother you, but perhaps you’d had enough of being sniped at by Carr.”

  “That’s it? I’d had enough of Carr?” Ellery looked surprised. “Oh, and I suppose the other three murders were camouflage. That’s just ridiculous. Too bad, but Carr wasn’t even a nuisance as far as I was concerned. I don’t really care what others think of me. You should know that. Do you really think I hated Carr enough to want to kill him?”

  “You wouldn’t have needed much of a motive. It would have been like swatting a fly.”

  “So you think I’m that cold-blooded a person?”

  “‘Cold-blooded’ doesn’t quite capture it, but you are indeed lacking something human. I think you’re a man who could kill someone on a mere whim. Don’t you agree, Van?”

  “Maybe.” Van nodded with emotionless eyes. A troubled expression appeared on Ellery’s face for one fleeting moment, but it changed into a wry smile and he shrugged.

  “Oh, well, I should probably mind my manners better.”

  And then the three fell silent.

  The dark and sinister atmosphere of the hall seemed to freeze their minds, not allowing them to break free. The ten white walls around them appeared to be more warped than ever.

  They remained like that for a long time.

  They could hear the murmur of the wind in the trees. The noise was a harbinger of a light beating sound on the roof of the building.

  “Oh, it’s raining,” Ellery murmured, gazing up at the water drops that had started to accumulate on the glass of the skylight.

  The noise grew louder as the rain became heavier, more violent, as if to isolate further the three men who were already trapped on the island.

  And then Ellery mumbled something and stood up, still looking up at the skylight.

  “What’s the matter?” Poe asked suspiciously.

  “Ah, no, wait—”

  Ellery hadn’t finished his sentence before he suddenly pushed his chair back, turned around and sprinted to the entrance.

  “The footprints!”

  7

  It was pouring. The sound of the rain mixed with the waves and reverberated throughout the island, like some unearthly melody.

  Ellery ran through the rain, not caring about getting soaked.

  He didn’t take the roundabout way through the arc of pine trees, but headed straight for the ruins of the Blue Mansion. He would need to run right through the trees.

  He stopped once to look behind him. Making sure Poe and Van were following him, he yelled:

  “Hurry! The rain will destroy the footprints!” He put on another spurt.

  His feet got caught in the undergrowth a couple of times, but he finally made his way through the trees. Arriving in the front garden of the Blue Mansion, he saw that the footprints around the place where Leroux had lain were still intact.

  Poe and Van arrived soon after. Ellery pointed at the footprints as he caught his breath.

  “Just memorize everything here as if your lives depended on it.”

  They stood there, following the lines of footprints left on the ground with their eyes, while the cold rain pelted them. They desperately tried to memorize the scene in front of them as puddles started to form and rivulets started to erode the prints.

  After a while Ellery turned around, brushing wet locks of hair from his forehead.

  “Let’s go back. We’ll catch cold.”

  † † †

  After changing their soaked clothes, the three gathered once again around the table in the hall.

  “Would you two mind coming a bit closer? This is important,” said Ellery as he opened a notebook he had brought from his room and grabbed a pen. Poe and Van hesitated, but got up from their chairs and walked to Ellery’s side.

  “Let’s draw the plan while it’s still fresh in our minds, OK?”

  Ellery drew a vertical rectangle that filled the page of the notebook.

  “This represents the grounds of the Blue Mansion.”

  Ellery drew a smaller horizontal rectangle near the top of the page.

  “These are the ruins of the building—the pile of bricks. And this is the staircase that goes down to the rocky area beneath the cliffs.”

  He marked a spot halfway down the left side of the large rectangle.

  “The Decagon House is off to the bottom right. The bottom line here is the row of trees. And Leroux was lying in the front garden, around here.”

  Slightly to the right and below the centre, Ellery drew a human figure, representing the corpse. Ellery then looked up at the other two.

  “And now the footsteps. Where were they?”

  “First, there was a line of footprints which went from the entrance to the grounds—the arch of pine trees—to the staircase on the cliffs,” answered Poe, restlessly scratching his beard.

  “And then three disorderly lines of footprints which went from the entrance to Leroux’s body and back.”

  “Precisely. Like this, I think. Van, this right?”

  “Yes. I think that’s how it was.”

  “OK, done.”

  Having fi nished drawing the diagram, Ellery placed the notebook where all three of them could see it clearly. (See Figure 3.)

  Figure 3 The crime scene

  “I discovered Leroux’s as soon as I had come through the arch of pine trees and arrived on the Blue Mansion grounds. You two arrived soon aft er and we ran straight to the body. Poe and I picked up the body and, with Van behind us, we went back to the Decagon House the way we came. Th erefore the three chaotic

  sets that went up to the body and back were made by the three of us, naturally. So if we remove those sets from our investigation…”

  Ellery paused and swept his wet hair back.

  “Don’t you see anything odd?”

  “Odd? About these footprints?” Poe asked, frowning.

  “Yes. The only people who entered the crime scene were you, Poe, you, Van, and me, and of course the murderer. Taking Leroux into account, there should be five sets of footprints going to his body. And indeed, there are five sets. However—”

  “Ellery, wait,” said Poe, glaring at the diagram. “If we ignore the sets we made when we discovered Leroux’s body, there remains one set going from the entrance to the staircase, two sets going from the staircase to
the body and one set from the body to the staircase.”

  “So you see our problem?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think we can safely assume the footsteps from the entrance to the staircase are those of Leroux. One of the sets going from the staircase to the body naturally belongs to Leroux himself. That means the remaining two lines were made by the murderer going to Leroux and back. But where did the murderer come from?”

  “The staircase.”

  “Precisely. But there is nothing but sea down there. You remember? There were only sheer cliffs on both sides of the rocky area beneath the staircase. The only way to get onto this island is either from that staircase or from the steps from the inlet with the pier. So how did the murderer make his way to that rocky area? And where did he go from there? He’d have to go all the way around that projecting cliff if he wanted to get back to the inlet. The water is deep, too. He would need to swim in this weather. I wonder what the temperature of the water is.”

  Poe got out his cigarette case and groaned softly. Van’s eyes were fixed on the notebook on the table.

  “And?” Poe prompted.

  “So the problem is why did the murderer do that? Well?”

  Ellery was the only one enjoying these riddles under the tense circumstances.

  Van remained silent, slipping both hands inside his down jacket.

  “Hm.” Poe cleared his throat and spoke. “The murderer is one of us three here in this house. So why would he go down to the rocky area to swim back here? Walking would have been easier. He could easily have just trampled on his own footprints to obscure their size and shape. It’s not as though we have a forensics expert around here. So the fact he didn’t do that means he had an important reason to return by sea.”

  “Exactly. And the reason is obvious, I think.” Ellery nodded in satisfaction and stood up. “So let’s get something to eat now. It’s already three o’clock.”

  “Eat?”

  Van looked suspicious. “How can we eat now, Ellery? Why did the murderer…?”

  “Later, later. No need to get all worked up over the question now. We haven’t eaten since morning.”

  Ellery turned round and went to the kitchen.

  8

  Having finished his lunch of emergency rations and a cup of coffee, Ellery began:

  “Well now. Our stomachs are full, so let’s finish this problem of ours. OK?”

  “Of course. Stop making a show of it,” replied Poe. Van nodded without saying a word.

  Ellery’s behaviour had been a source of confusion to the other two ever since he started talking about the footprints. They had kept an eye on Ellery during their meal, but he remained calm throughout and they even caught an occasional glimpse of his trademark smile.

  “OK.”

  Ellery pushed his cup and plate away and opened the notebook again. The other two came round to his side of the table, each keeping his distance from the other.

  “First, a review of the main points.”

  Ellery glanced at the figure of the footprints and began his analysis.

  “We concluded that the only footsteps left by the murderer were the two lines between the body and the staircase. That means the murderer came and left by sea. Supposing that the murderer is one of us, let’s try to trace the route he took.

  “He would have left the Decagon House, gone down to the inlet, into the sea, swum to the rocky area and climbed the staircase there to arrive at the Blue Mansion. He would have taken the same route back after the murder. Poe just talked about an important reason for coming back to the house by sea, but could there really be such a thing? No matter how much I think about it, it seems like nonsense to me. There’s no need to do it at all. There’s not the slightest glimmer of reality about the whole idea.”

  “But that would mean that the murderer is someone besides us,” said Poe. “Someone from the sea—someone from outside the island.”

  “And why shouldn’t that be the case?”

  Ellery closed the notebook.

  “The most logical conclusion we can come to, given the circumstances, is that the murderer is someone besides us. We might not be able to leave the island, but there are plenty of ways for someone from outside to come to the island. That way, there’s also no need to suggest silly ideas like someone swimming in the sea. The murderer used a boat.”

  “A boat,” muttered Poe.

  “Why were both Orczy and Leroux killed in the early morning? Because the best time to get to the island unnoticed is in the middle of the night or in the early morning. What do you think?”

  Ellery took out his pack of Salem cigarettes as he watched the expressions of the other two. Realizing the pack was empty, he threw it on the table.

  “You want one?” said Poe, and slid his cigarette case towards Ellery.

  “Poe seems to agree with me.”

  Ellery put a cigarette in his mouth and lit a match.

  “And Van?”

  “I think you’re right, Ellery. Poe, could I have one too?”

  “Sure.”

  Ellery passed Poe’s cigarette case to Van.

  “But Ellery, if you’re right and the murderer isn’t one of us, why did they make those plates?” asked Poe.

  “You mean why was there a nameplate for ‘the Murderer’, as well as those for ‘the Detective’ and the victims? Because their real purpose was to act as a distraction.”

  Ellery, eyes half closed, blew a cloud of smoke.

  “First of all, it had the effect of making us believe that ‘the Murderer’ was one of us seven. That way, we would be put off guard about the outside world.”

  “And secondly?”

  “I’d say psychological pressure. As the group dwindled, the remaining survivors would become suspicious of each other, and might kill each other. The murderer was probably hoping for that. More bodies without having to dirty his own hands. Anyway, the murderer’s final goal is very likely to kill all seven of us.”

  “That’s evil,” muttered Van as he lit his cigarette.

  “One more thing I find curious,” said Poe, pressing a thick thumb to his temple. “Why did the murderer go straight back towards the sea after killing Leroux?”

  “What do you mean, why?” Van asked, as he returned Poe’s cigarette case.

  “The killer was trying to make it appear like the murders were committed by one of us. So wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to leave more footprints, for example between the entrance and the staircase? It would have been simple to do.”

  “He might not have noticed he’d left any footprints.”

  “And he returned to the mainland right away? When did he stick that plate with ‘the Third Victim’ on the door then?”

  “That’s…”

  Seeing that Van couldn’t come up with an answer, Poe turned to Ellery.

  “What’s your view on that, Ellery?”

  “I think it was like this,” said Ellery and he placed his cig­arette in the ashtray. “It could be, as Van said, that the murderer hadn’t noticed the problem of the footprints. But supposing he had noticed it, he probably would have wanted to leave an extra set of footprints between the entrance and the staircase. The fact he didn’t means the situation didn’t allow him to do so. I think I can explain it by factoring in the particular circumstances of Leroux’s murder.

  “Leroux was beaten to death. Judging by the wild footprints that led from the steps to his body, I think we can deduce that he was being chased by the murderer. My guess is that Leroux saw the murderer and the boat down in the rocky area, probably just as the murderer was preparing to leave the island.

  “Leroux figured out what was going on and ran away. The murderer saw Leroux and ran after him. Leroux most likely yelled for help, so, after cat
ching up with Leroux and beating him to death, the murderer panicked. Someone might have been woken up by Leroux’s cries and could have arrived there at any moment. He could have hidden in the vicinity, but he couldn’t afford to have his boat discovered.

  “The murderer therefore left the footprints as they were, went back down to the rocky area and rowed the boat to the inlet, to see whether he could hear us come looking for Leroux. Fortunately no such thing seemed to be happening. He then came up to the Decagon House and, after looking through the kitchen window to check whether everybody seemed to be asleep, he sneaked inside and stuck the plate on Leroux’s door. He gave up on the footprints and left the island. It would have been too dangerous, considering the time of the day as well, to go back to the Blue Mansion once again.”

  “Hmm. So the murderer was here on the island the whole night?” asked Poe.

  “I think he’s been here every night. He arrives on the island by night to watch our movements.”

  “Hiding beneath the kitchen window?”

  “Probably something like that.”

  “And he leaves his boat in the inlet or at the rocky area?”

  “He probably hides it. A small rubber dinghy can be folded up easily. He could carry it to the grove, or hide it underneath the water with a weight on it.”

  “A rubber dinghy?” Poe frowned. “Could you get to the mainland with that?”

  “No need to go all the way to the mainland. There’s a perfect hiding place just around the corner.”

  “Cat Island?”

  “Precisely, Cat Island. I think the murderer is camping out there. You could easily row here from that island.”

  “True, it’s not far.”

  “Let’s reconsider what the murderer did once again.”

  Ellery closed the notebook and put it to one side. He produced his deck of blue bicycle cards out of nowhere, put it on the table and played with it as he continued his story.