The Statue of Three Lies

by David Cargill

  ‘Who are you?’ Victor’s question interrupted his thoughts.

  The wine glass hardly faltered as it slid across the table spelling the letters J-A-C-K.

  Giles watched the path the glass took and each of the ten players but came to no conclusions. Any one or more could have wished to spell the name for a variety of reasons.

  Victor removed his finger from the glass and invited the others to do the same.

  ‘We all deserve a short respite,’ he said ‘but now that we’ve made contact I have two more questions to ask after which, if any of you wishes to put a question, the floor is yours - or should I say, the table! The ripple of muffled laughter lightened the mood of possible impending doom.

  When Victor replaced his finger on the glass everyone followed suit. There was a brief pause before he asked the next question.

  ‘Was the rifle meant to play a part in your illusion?’

  The glass moved in the direction of Conrad, settled in front of the letter...N, then immediately travelled to the card next to it...the letter...O.

  ‘I only have one more question. Were you alone in the library?’

  The wineglass, like a dodgem car at the fairground, slithered across the mahogany surface making slight clicks as it crossed the small gaps between centre and hinged leaf ends spelling out the word Y-E-S in the process. The firelight catching the intricate shape of the glass created the colours of the spectrum and with ten arms extending from its sparkling body The Prof got the impression it resembled a Giant Squid seeking its prey.

  ‘Has anyone else a question?’

  ‘Yes, I have one!’

  Laura, who made the statement, appeared to have recovered some of her ebullience.

  ‘Go ahead, but please keep it simple!’

  Laura leant forward in her chair.

  ‘Were you expecting someone to come to the library?’

  The glass, seeming to have a life of its own, moved without the noise that had been apparent earlier. The Prof watched as it tracked its familiar route to spell the word Y-E-S and he thought back to when Laura had entered the library while he was attempting to open the safe. There was something strangely sinister about the similarity of movement. He was still making mental comparison of the two incidents when Laura’s strident voice rang out.

  ‘Who were you expecting?’

  The light squeak of glass on polished wood became evident once again as the crystal goblet that was an extension of ten arms moved across in front of her and to her right resting lightly at the...Y before moving back across in front of her and going left to the. O. Without stopping it travelled towards the centre and moved directly towards her...but never completed its journey!

  Spinning out of control it crashed sideways and smashed into several shards as nine hands made futile efforts to prevent the catastrophe caused when Laura collapsed forward and fell with her head sprawled on her outstretched arm. The ensuing chaos lasted the best part of a minute as members of the family rushed to her assistance, checking for possible cuts and replacing fallen chairs.

  Doreen Gardner swept up the broken glass and Freddie and George helped Laura into a comfortable easy chair. Victor quickly produced a brandy for her; Sally comforted Mabel who seemed to be suffering mild shock and Conrad and Edgar checked on Isabella to see if their mother was all right before she announced she was going to bed and, without further comment, retired for the night.

  The Prof watched the entire scene played out in front of him and determined to have a private word later with Freddie to find out what he made of it all.

  ‘It’s been a long day and a hectic one,’ George, the groom, said as he put a few more small logs on the dying embers of the fire. ‘So, if you don’t mind, I’ll pay a final visit to the stables and make sure Samson and Delilah are bedded down for the night, then I’ll turn in!’

  The little white-haired man straightened up and went over to Laura who appeared to have perked up.

  ‘Can I do anything for you?’ he asked.

  ‘No, Gee-Gee! But thanks for everything! You’ve been most helpful!’

  He squeezed her extended hand and, with a nod to the others, left the room.

  Laura arose from her cosy armchair a little unsteadily.

  ‘I think I’ll follow his example and hit the hay!’ she said.

  Doreen, the cook, went over to her and offered a supporting arm.

  ‘I’ll help you up the stairs, my dear, and when I come down I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee!’

  ‘Great idea!’ Victor announced with gusto. ‘After that little game I think we need a winding down period.’

  ‘Well it was your idea to play the game!’ Edgar chided him.

  ‘Out of the mouth of babes!’ Victor retorted sarcastically and lit a cigarette.

  ’Laura,’ Giles got up and approached her as she was about to leave the room. ‘If you feel up to it in the morning, I’d like to talk to you, privately, in here say at around 9.30. After that I’ll have a word with Sally then you can both get on with what you have to do for the evening performance!’

  ‘Fine, Giles! Whatever you say! Goodnight everyone!’

  The Prof returned to the others.

  ‘Will that be all right with you, Sally? It won’t take more than a few minutes!’

  ‘I’ll be ready and waiting, Mister Professor!’

  Giles smiled and turned to Victor who was blowing smoke rings into the air.

  ‘So what did you really find out during your game tonight?’

  ‘About as much as you did with your confidence trick with the words last night!’

  ‘Well at least my little experiment produced no serious mishaps to body or to property!’

  ‘I don’t think you should count your chickens too soon, Giles!’ Edgar counselled. ‘We have still to see the outcome of that lie-detector test of yours. None of us have any idea what repercussions may still emerge.’

  Mabel, who had been silent for most of the evening, addressed the group in general and The Prof in particular.

  ‘Before we leave the subject of tonight’s seance there is something I’ve been meaning to ask Giles for some time. When you were introducing us to the strange happenings of coincidence, in this very room the other day, you mentioned that you and your friend, Mr. Oldsworth, were members of the Ghost Club.’

  ‘That’s right! So I did! So I did!’

  ‘Well what I’d like to know is what is it...the Ghost Club, I mean? And does it have any connection with what we were supposed to be doing tonight at the seance?’

  ‘I would have to say yes to the second question, Mabel, but perhaps a short explanation can help to explain the first one!’

  ‘I’m sure we’d all like to hear what you have to say!’ Sally said with more enthusiasm than she’d displayed after Laura’s collapse at the table.

  ’O.K. then! Here goes! The Ghost Club is the oldest organisation associated with psychic matters. Founded over a century ago, before Disraeli became Prime Minister, by a select number of London gentlemen, it was set up to investigate psychic phenomena and unmask false mediums. It was wound up sometime around the early years of the First World War then renewed once more in 1938 by a certain Harry Price when women were admitted for the first time! It was a great success!’

  ‘I’m just wild about Harry!’ Sally sang. ‘Someone should strike a medal for him!’

  ‘That would have been the Price of success!’ Mabel exclaimed with a chuckle.

  ‘Sounds like somebody has been giving my wife too much to drink!’ Conrad joked.

  ‘I agree with both ladies,’ Giles said amidst the laughter, ‘but I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that. Harry Price died suddenly in 1948 and the meetings stopped after that.’

  ‘So how come you are still members?’ Sally asked.

  ‘I’m sorry; I should have made that clear! Perhaps Freddie can take over and clarify things!’

  ‘I’d be happy to oblige!’ Freddie said looking pleased to play his part of
the double act.

  He took out his reading glasses and placed them in position as if preparing to read from a script then thought better of it and held them in one hand much to the amusement of his audience.

  ‘After his death the Club remained defunct for about six years before being revived again. Membership now consists of many eminent people including judges and successful authors and meetings are held where members and guests can exchange ideas on psychic investigation!’

  ‘And what more can you tell us about this Harry Price?’ Sally probed.

  ‘He was a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde, I believe! Please don’t get me wrong! I don’t mean that in the sense that he possessed an evil side. He was a very knowledgeable man and the Ghost Club was very close to his heart but there is some evidence to suggest that, although he devoted much of his time and spared no expense in the pursuit of psychic research, he was also capable of being two-faced and malicious. Nevertheless he probably did more to make people aware of his subject than any other person - before or since. He was quick to expose those he came in contact with whom he considered to be frauds yet at the same time was quite prepared to give credit to others he believed genuine. Oh, and one final, but interesting fact about Mr. Harry Price, he came to be involved in psychical research through his love of conjuring. So you can probably understand why Giles and I are rather sceptical about such games as happened here tonight. But tonight was just a bit of fun.. .wasn’t it?’

  He placed the spectacles back on his head and looked around.

  ‘Just a bit of fun? I suppose you could say that! At least it was until Laura spoiled the whole thing by sprawling all over the table!’ Victor said with tongue-in-cheek. ‘Aah, here’s refreshment!’

  Cook entered the lounge with a trolley.

  ‘I’ll clear up before I go to bed.’ she said and prepared to leave the room.

  ‘How was Laura when you left her, Doreen? We need her for tomorrow’s show!’ Sally asked anxiously.

  ‘She was quite composed when I left her and should sleep the night through, if I’m any judge!’

  ‘Good!’ said Conrad preparing to pour the coffee.

  Mabel assisted by passing cups and saucers around and everyone settled down to drink coffee and become involved in small talk.

  Amidst the social clatter and chatter of cups and voices The Prof announced that he was going outside for a final constitutional and Freddie agreed to join him.

  With a multiple chorus of goodnights the three brothers and two sisters-in-law were left to finish off the evening as they so often did on such occasions. Only Laura was missing from this younger section of the family, and she was safely tucked in bed.

  With overcoat collars raised against the chill night air Giles and Freddie left the Hall by the main front door and started to circle the house. Underfoot the gravel crunched as they worked their way around the south-facing facade and along the east side passing the billiard room where Jack Ramsden had introduced Giles to the game he later played with his own dad as he waited to return to his RAF base after welcome “leaves” at home. As he came to where the billiard room adjoined the library, the latter building jutted out some fifteen to twenty feet and contained the large sash windows that “old” George had patrolled on the night of the...? The...what, he asked himself?

  ‘Accident, suicide or...murder ?’

  ‘You’re talking to yourself again, Giles!’

  The Prof stopped in his tracks, looked at his companion and nodded in agreement.

  ‘This was roughly where George Gardner was when the shot was fired that night!’ he exclaimed. ‘And where he could also keep an eye on the rest of the windows on the east side!’ he muttered softly and started walking again.

  Freddie shook his head, smiled and scampered after him, almost bumping into his friend as he stopped approximately where the painting of the Spanish Dancer would be hanging inside on the library wall. The Prof had turned to look upwards to where the chimney of the library stretched into a pale moonlit sky. He studied it for some moments deep in thought until light flecks of rain fell on his upturned face. He brushed the moisture away, dug his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and walked on past other windows that he thought belonged to a storeroom or something similar.

  A few yards on, the path branched to the right towards the stable yard where were housed the two magnificent hunters;one that had left him satisfied but sore and the other that had been the mount of Laura before her extremely serious fall. But what had caused her second fall during the seance. Was it a relapse after her earlier mishap and medication or was it to do with something that happened or was about to happen after she asked if her father had been expecting somebody to come to the library just before he died?

  Giles looked at Freddie as if anticipating a reply to his questioning thoughts before continuing his tour past the back door and the kitchen area where the lights were still on.

  At the back of the house he descended the steps leading down to the entrance to the cellar and tried the door handle. It was locked. He looked up at Freddie who stood at the top of the steps with raised eyebrows. No words passed their lips. He climbed the steps and moved round to the west side of the house.

  Passing a laundry room and the comfortable games room where he and Laura had lost at Contract Bridge he motioned his friend to follow him past the dining room and on to the lounge where Laura had collapsed during the seance. He couldn’t make up his mind about her eventful day but under the circumstances was sure she had done the right thing and, like her mother, gone to bed early.

  There were lights still on in the lounge; the heavy curtains didn’t quite prevent that fact becoming evident.

  ‘Something else is certainly not evident though!’

  ‘You’re-talking-to-yourself-again!’

  Freddie’s singsong ditty alerted the dreamer for the second time during their evening stroll.

  ‘Look Freddie we must have a talk. I want...! No that’s not quite true...I need your opinion and I suggest we retire and have that little communication upstairs...right now!’

  The two men stopped outside The Prof’s bedroom. Giles put his ear to the door and listened then grabbed Freddie by the arm and gestured with his head to move on along the corridor. They passed the main bathroom and continued to Freddie’s room.

  When they were inside Freddie turned on his pal.

  ‘What was all that about, Giles?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but I suspect that someone was in my room!’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Again I’m not sure but I wouldn’t mind betting that, whoever it was, he or she was looking for something...something they believe I may have, in writing, that could incriminate the person responsible for what happened here all those years ago!’

  ‘What have we got here? Who’s the betting man now?’ Freddie said with a smile and a wink.

  ‘The guilty person was sitting amongst our circle of suspects and playing a game with me at the seance tonight. Whoever that is may have decided to enter my room but they will be disappointed! Nothing will be found, though it does mean that someone is as worried as I am!’

  ‘But surely, Giles, every other person in this house could have a legitimate reason for going into your room. They are part of the family, after all, and anyway how can you be so sure that nothing incriminating would be found there?’

  ’For the simple reason that my notes...my real notes, you understand, I keep in my head!’

  ‘Look, Giles, I hope you’re not becoming too melodramatic about this whole affair. Anyway if we’re going to have a chat about what happened downstairs tonight, may I offer you a little of what I have in my travel bag?’

  He produced a small bottle of Drambuie and ordered Giles to sit and relax while he went to the bathroom to get a couple of glasses.

  Opening the large bathroom cabinet Freddie rummaged amongst the contents and found two small glasses that suited his purpose. He closed the cabinet and left the bathroom but in
stead of turning towards his own room he went in the opposite direction and paused outside the door of Giles’ bedroom.

  He listened for a moment, turned to leave then stopped and turned back. Taking the glasses in his left hand he knocked on the door with his right. He turned the handle, opened the door and switched on the light. The room was empty. Switching off the light he closed the door and walked along to his own room.

  Giles was standing by the window and looking out to the stables. It all seemed such a long time ago, he thought.

  He turned as Freddie poured a little of the amber liqueur into each glass. When he heard the tale of the entry into his room all he said was, ‘Aah!

  ’He emptied his glass in one gulp, grinned for a brief moment then became serious.

  ‘What did you make of the charade tonight?’

  ‘Well, one thing is certain, the glass was being pushed, but unless you saw more than I did I haven’t a clue who was doing it!’

  ‘You were sitting amongst them. Did nothing make an impression? Nothing at all that could point to the identity of the culprit? I mean it could have been a prank by someone who wished to have fun at my expense or it could have been an attempt to call my luff!’

  ‘Sorry, Giles! I’m afraid I can’t help you there. But I can be a bit more explicit about the pushing!’

  ‘Go on!’

  ’The glass was pushed by more than one person - I’m as certain as I can be about that - and, what’s more, they weren’t sitting together!’

  ‘A splendid observation, Freddie! This really gets better by the minute!’

  He thought he sounded a bit like Arthur Conan Doyle’s creation and he smiled at the dream.

  ‘Yes I do, don’t I? I most certainly do!’

  He rubbed both hands together.

  ‘Careful, son, I believe you’re talking.?’

  ‘To myself again! Yes I know! Isn’t it wonderful? Look Freddie, thank you again for the drink. You get some sleep. I have something to check out before I turn in!’