The Catherine Wheel

by Patricia Wentworth

  It must have been just short of half past five when Miss Silver pushed the baize door and went along a rather dark passage to the kitchen. It was in her mind that she would like to talk to Annie Castell. Not about anything in particular, but just to talk to her and see what kind of a woman she was. There were a good many possibilities about Annie Castell. Even quite a short conversation might eliminate some of them. But when she came to the bright streak which showed the position of the kitchen door she knew that she would not be able to have her conversation with Annie. Fogarty Castell was there, and even the thick old door could not disguise the fact that he was angry. He was, in fact, shouting at the top of his voice.

  Miss Silver took hold of the door-knob and turned it gently until the catch released itself, after which she drew in her hand until the door stood a finger’s breadth from the jamb. As a gentlewoman, eavesdropping was naturally repugnant, but as a detective she was prepared to engage in it without flinching. She now heard Castell shout,

  “Leave me? You would leave me?”

  A string of words in the French language followed.

  Miss Silver had never heard any of them before, and she had no difficulty in concluding that in this case ignorance was scarcely to be deplored. She hoped that Annie Castell did not understand them either. But Castell’s voice, expression, and manner required no translating. An angry man who is swearing at his wife sounds very much the same in any language. Miss Silver could not see into the kitchen, but she could hear well enough. She could hear Annie Castell take a long breath and steady it when Castell stopped swearing, and she heard her say,

  “I can’t stand anything more.”

  Castell stamped his feet, first one and then the other.

  “You will stand what I tell you to stand, and you will do what I tell you to do! Are you not my wife?”

  She said,

  “Not any more. I’ll cook the dinner tonight, and I’ll cook breakfast tomorrow, and then I’ll take Eily and go.”

  “Go? Where will you go?”

  “I can get a place-any day-at once.”

  Castell roared at her suddenly-a French word culled from the Marseilles slums where he had played as a child. And then, like someone checked in a spring, his voice dropped to a horrid whisper.

  “The door-who opened the door?”

  Miss Silver did not wait for anyone to answer that question. She was light on her feet, and she could move very quickly indeed when she wanted to. She moved so quickly now that by the time Fogarty Castell looked out into the passage the faint lamplight showed it empty. She had not risked trying to reach the baize door, but had taken the cross passage and gone quickly through the office to the lounge. When presently the door opened and Castell looked in, she was making good progress with little Josephine’s knickers and encouraging Mildred Taverner in what, it must be confessed, was a sadly bungling effort.

  At six o’clock Frank Abbott returned and once more walked through the lounge, but this time in a reverse direction. He left the door of Castell’s office ajar, and Miss Silver immediately joined him there. As she came in and shut the door behind her, he was turning up the old-fashioned wall-lamp. The light struck upon his face and showed him with rather more than the usual dash of sarcasm in his expression. At her sober, “Well, Frank, you have something to tell me?” he smiled provokingly.

  “Have I? I wonder. You see, you always know the answers already.”

  “My dear Frank!”

  He laughed again.

  “Oh, you were quite right of course. You always are.”

  She shook her head in a reproving manner.

  “Exaggeration is a bad fault in a detective. An attempt to improve upon facts may be fatal.”

  As she spoke she seated herself and resumed her knitting.

  With a brief murmur of “Facts!” Frank took a chair and stretched out his long legs.

  “Mrs. Wilton delivered the goods,” he said. “She had bathed Albert when a baby and nursed him with a broken collarbone. She deposes to a large mole on the left shoulderblade, and has identified the corpse in the mortuary as that of Albert Miller. That being that, the police are naturally anxious to interview Luke White. Alibi or no alibi, the change-over must have been with his consent. Of course he may have been bumped off since.”

  Miss Silver coughed.

  “I do not think so.” After a slight pause she continued. “You will, perhaps, agree that he would have a strong motive for preventing Florence Duke from seeing the body which Castell had identified.”

  Frank said,

  “He and Castell would both have a motive.”

  “Yes. That was why I made such a particular point of her not being told until just before the inquest that she would have to identify the body. As soon as Inspector Crisp rang her up I knew that she would be in danger, and I did my best to persuade her to place herself under your protection at Cliff House. Captain Taverner would have driven her there, but she would not hear of it. There is no doubt that someone was listening to that call on the extension. Did it never strike you as peculiar that the extension should have been in the butler’s pantry, and not in this room which was in use as an office? There could be but one reason for so odd an arrangement, and that was the greater privacy of the pantry. No one could approach it without being seen by Annie Castell. But this room, with its two doors, one opening upon a passage and the other on the lounge-”

  Frank nodded.

  “Yes, I agree. Well, that’s that-so much for the identity question. You were right about the other thing too. Willis and I got to work on the carpet in here, and there’s been blood spilt on it. Wiped off the surface, but some of it had soaked through. It wasn’t quite dry. Miller was killed in this room, just as you said.”

  “Yes, I was sure of it.”

  “Crisp is a bit shaken, but still clinging to the idea that Florence Duke committed suicide.”

  Miss Silver shook her head.

  “Oh, no, she didn’t do that. When it was known that she would be asked to identify the body it became too dangerous to let her live. I do not think that the substitution had ever taken her in. I think she knew very well that the body in the hall was not that of Luke White. I think she lifted it sufficiently to see the face-she was a strongly built woman-and that she was not deceived. She must, therefore, have known that her husband was implicated in the murder, and she had to decide at once what she should do. She decided to screen him. A very disastrous decision, but it is hard to blame a wife for shielding her husband. But the people who had murdered Albert Miller would not know whether she had recognized him or not. They would not dare to take the risk of her being confronted with the body and asked to make a formal identification. We have no means of knowing whether it was then and there decided to remove her in such a manner as to make it appear that she had committed suicide, or whether there was an intermediate stage during which they or Luke White entered into negotiations with her. As I said, we shall probably never know, but I incline to the belief that she received some kind of communication. It may have been something directly from her husband, or something purporting to furnish her with information about him. Whatever it was, it decided her to leave her room and meet her murderer.”

  Frank nodded.

  “I expect you’re right. But we shan’t be able to prove anything-unless somebody turns King’s evidence.”

  It was at this moment that there was the sound of running feet. They came from the direction of the lounge. The communicating door was thrown open and Jane Heron appeared, her eyes startled, her colour coming and going. She checked on the threshold with an “Oh, Miss Silver!” and then came out with,

  “I can’t find Eily!”

  CHAPTER 39

  Miss Silver knew then what she had been afraid of. She rose to her feet and put her knitting down upon the table.

  Jeremy had come up behind Jane. Mildred Taverner was straying towards them across the lounge. There was a horrid similarity to the scene before the door of F
lorence Duke’s room that very morning. Mildred said in a trembling whisper,

  “Things always happen in threes-first Luke, and then Florence, and now Eily. Oh, why did I come to this horrible house!”

  Miss Silver said, “Hush!” And then, to Jane, “Was she not with you?”

  “We went out just for a little-really only up and down on the cliff. Eily said she was going to help Cousin Annie. When we came in she wasn’t there. She isn’t anywhere-we’ve been all over the house.”

  “You do not think that she has gone to meet John Higgins?”

  “No-he’s just been up asking for her. He’s outside now. He didn’t want to come in. That is why I was looking for Eily.”

  Miss Silver acted with decision.

  “Please go and fetch him. Miss Taverner, will you go back to the lounge.”

  She shut the door upon herself and Frank Abbott.

  “Frank, this may be serious. Inspector Crisp should be here, and enough men to take charge. There are dangerous criminals involved. If Eily has really disappeared, it means that one of them has played his own hand and is risking the safety of the others. I don’t need to tell you just how dangerous that may be.”

  “Crisp should have been here by now. He may be here at any minute.”

  She said in as grave a voice as he had ever heard her use,

  “We have no minutes to spare. That man Luke White is not sane about Eily. If, as I have suspected, he has the secret of the other passage, and is somewhere in the house-”

  “You think he has carried her off? But the risk-”

  “My dear Frank, when did the thought of risk deter a man with a crazy passion?”

  The door on to the passage was thrown open and John Higgins came in, Jane and Jeremy a little way behind. It was clear that he had run and outstripped them.

  “Where’s Eily?” he said.

  Miss Silver went up to him and put her hand on his arm.

  “We will find her, Mr. Higgins, but everyone must help.”

  “Help?” He gave a sob. “What do you mean?”

  She said, “I will tell you,” and at the same moment Frank Abbott touched her.

  “There’s Crisp. What do you want-the Castells rounded up?”

  “Everyone rounded up. I think one of the Mr. Taverners has returned. I thought someone came in while we were talking. I want everyone together, and at once. There must be no delay. It is extremely urgent.”

  He said, “All right-everyone in the lounge,” and went out that way.

  Miss Silver spoke to the three who remained.

  “Mr. Higgins-Captain Taverner-Miss Heron-if any one of you know anything at all about this house, you must disclose it now. Mr. Jacob Taverner showed you a passage between the cellars and the shore. I think that it was shown to you as a blind. It may have been shown to him in the same way- I do not know. But I am sure that there is another passage, or at the very least a secret room, perhaps communicating with that passage to the shore. If Eily has disappeared she will be in this room, and the entrance must be found without delay. It was Albert Miller who was murdered on Saturday night. Luke White is alive. This is the first time since Saturday that the moon and the tide would be favourable to his being put across the Channel. Eily’s disappearance looks as if the attempt was to be made tonight and he was making a crazy bid to take her with him. Now if one of you knows any single thing that will help us to discover the entrance to this second passage or room, you will see that you must not hold it back.”

  A few minutes later she was saying this all over again to a larger audience. There were present Inspector Crisp, the plain-clothes detective Willis, a constable at either door of the lounge, Castell, and, of the Taverner connection, Annie Castell, Jane, Jeremy, Mildred Taverner, and her brother Geoffrey looking as neat as she was dishevelled and a good deal concerned.

  “Most unfortunate-there must be some mistake. Surely the girl may have gone out to meet a friend-I really can’t imagine-”

  Most of these sentences were addressed to Jane, who merely received them with a shake of the head, upon which they petered out and led to nothing.

  Inspector Crisp rapped upon the table at which he had seated himself and said,

  “Eily Fogarty has disappeared. She is not in the hotel. Her outdoor coat and shoes are not missing, and it seems improbable that she would have gone out without them. Miss Silver has something which she wishes to say. I don’t take any responsibility for it, but I am willing to give her the opportunity of saying it. Miss Silver-”

  Miss Silver rose to her feet and looked about her. Mildred Taverner was sniffing into a damp handkerchief. Her brother Geoffrey had a bewildered air. Annie Castell sat large and shapeless upon a chair which disappeared from view beneath her bulk. Her face was pale and without any expression, the eyelids faintly rimmed with pink. Her hands lay one on either knee. Every now and then the thumbs twitched. Castell, beside her, bobbed up like a jack-in-the-box.

  “What a lot of nonsense is this? Eily is not in the house? Eily is out? Does a young girl never go out? Am I a slave-driver that I always keep her in? Does she not have a boy friend-a lover? Does John Higgins think he is the only one she meets? If he does, I tell him he can have another think coming!” He gave an angry laugh. “That she even runs away, how do I know? There has been a murder-there has been a suicide-she has a crisis of the nerves-and she goes off-with this one, that one-how do I know?”

  Crisp said sharply,

  “Sit down and hold your tongue, Castell!”

  Miss Silver said what she had already said to John Higgins and to Jeremy and Jane.

  When she had finished there was a silence which was broken by Jeremy.

  “You are right about there being another passage. My grandfather told me enough to make me feel sure of that. And I think the entrance is on the bedroom floor, because a wounded man was brought up through it and died in the room which Eily has now.”

  Frank Abbott said,

  “How do you know that?”

  “It was a corner room at the back. The younger children slept there to be near their parents, but on that occasion they had been turned out. My grandfather told me what his mother had told him. The whole thing was very hush-hush-I don’t think they could have risked carrying that wounded man through the house. That’s all I can tell you.”

  Castell snapped his fingers.

  “What you call an old wives’ tale!”

  Miss Silver coughed reprovingly.

  “It agrees with what Miss Taverner’s grandfather told her about being frightened at seeing a light come out of a hole in the wall when he was a little boy. He was one of the children who slept in what is now Eily’s room. But it is clear that he had left the room before he saw this light. It is impossible to believe that he went down to the cellar.”

  John Higgins said heavily,

  “I don’t know where it is, but there is a room. My grandmother told my father, and he told me. I’ve never spoken of it till now. I don’t know where it is.”

  Miss Silver said,

  “Miss Taverner?”

  Mildred sobbed and sniffed.

  “Oh, I don’t know anything-I don’t really. I only thought- he wouldn’t have gone very far-a little boy like that. It must have been somewhere near his room-he said he ran back to it.”

  “Mr. Taverner?”

  Geoffrey’s eyebrows drew together.

  “Quite frankly, I have always thought my grandfather made the whole thing up-or dreamt it. He became very childish in his last illness, and I am afraid that my sister is credulous. There certainly is a passage which we have all seen, but as to anything more-well-” He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Mrs. Castell?”

  Annie Castell did not move. Miss Silver coughed and addressed her again.

  “Mrs. Castell, what do you know about this secret room or passage?”

  She did speak then, with the least possible movement of pale, flabby lips.

  “Nothing.”

>   “Are you sure?”

  The single word was not repeated. This time she shook her head.

  Miss Silver rose to her feet.

  “Then I think we must go and look for ourselves. There is certainly no time to be lost.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Eily came back to consciousness. She had lost herself and all the world she knew when the door she was passing had opened slowly upon the dim passage and showed her a dead man standing there. Luke White was dead-but he stood there looking at her, and she fell from him down into fainting depths. Now she was coming back, but not to any place she knew. The ground was hard under her and she could not move. At first she did not know why. Consciousness ebbed and flowed. Then it came to her that her ankles were tied together, and her wrists, and that there was something stuffed into her mouth. It was difficult to breathe, and she couldn’t call out or speak. The thing in her mouth was a handkerchief-she could feel the stuff against her tongue-and there was a bandage which covered her mouth.

  She made an instinctive movement with her bound hands, and from somewhere behind her Luke White said,

  “Don’t do that!”

  Her eyes had been shut, but she opened them now. She was in a small narrow place, and Luke White was coming into view with a candle in his hand. He set the candle on the ground, kneeled down beside her, and took both her hands in one of his. His touch was warm and strong, and at that the worst of the fear went out of Eily, because it wasn’t a dead man’s hand which lay on hers. As if he knew her thought, he gave her the kind of careless caress he might have given to a dog or a child, a mere flick of the fingers as he said,

  “No call to look like that. I’m not a ghost, as you’ll very soon find out. It was a good trick, wasn’t it? And it took everybody in, just as it was meant to. They’d all seen me in my waiter’s jacket, and when they saw that jacket on a dead man they didn’t look past it-not close enough anyhow to see that it was Al Miller who was wearing it for a change. It was a very clever trick, and you’re going to have a very clever husband.”