The Philo Vance Megapack

by S. S. Van Dine

  “Granted what you say is true,”—Markham rose uneasily and leaned against the shelves containing the shawabtis—“how can we discover the interrelationships of this household without interviewing its members?”

  “By questioning the one man who stands apart from the actual inmates.”

  “Scarlett?”

  Vance nodded.

  “He undoubtedly knows more than he has told us. He has been with the Bliss expedition for two years. He has lived in Egypt, and is acquainted with the family history.… Why not have him in here for a brief causerie before tackling the members of the establishment? There are several points I could endure to know ere the investigation proceeds.”

  Markham was watching Vance closely. Presently he moved his head up and down slowly.

  “You’ve something in mind, Vance, and it’s neither nimbus, cumulus, stratus, nor cirrus.… Very well. I’ll get Scarlett here and let you question him.”

  Heath returned to the museum at this moment.

  “Doc Bliss has gone to his bedroom, with orders to stay there,” he reported. “The rest of ’em are in the drawing-room, and Hennessey and Emery are keeping their eye on things. Also, I sent the wagon away—and Snitkin’s watching the front door.” I had rarely seen Heath in so discouraged a mood.

  “How did Doctor Bliss act when you ordered his release?” Vance asked.

  “Didn’t seem to care one way or another,” the Sergeant told him, with an intonation of disgust. “Didn’t even say anything. Just went up-stairs with his head down, stunned-like.… Queer bird, if you ask me.”

  “Most Egyptologists are queer birds, Sergeant,” Vance remarked consolingly.

  Markham was again growing impatient. He addressed himself curtly to Heath.

  “Mr. Vance and I have decided to find out what Mr. Scarlett can tell us before going on with the investigation. Will you ask him to step here?”

  The Sergeant extended his arms and let them fall in a broad gesture of resignation. Then he went from the museum. In a few moments he returned with Scarlett in tow.

  Vance drew up several chairs. By his serious, deliberate manner I realized that he regarded the conference with Scarlett as highly important. At the time I was not aware of what was in his mind; nor did I understand why he had chosen Scarlett as his chief source of information. But before the day was over it was only too clear to me. With subtle accuracy and precision he had chosen the one man who could supply the data that were needed to solve the murder of Kyle. And the things Vance learned from Scarlett that afternoon proved to be the determining factors in his solution of the case.

  Without preliminaries Vance informed Scarlett of the altered status of Doctor Bliss.

  “Mr. Markham has decided to postpone the doctor’s arrest. The evidence at present is most conflicting. We’ve discovered several things, which, from the legal point of view, throw serious doubt on his guilt. The fact is, Scarlett, we’ve come to the conclusion that further investigation is necess’ry before we can make any definite move.”

  Scarlett appeared greatly relieved.

  “By Jove, Vance, I’m frightfully glad of that!” he exclaimed with complete conviction. “Doctor Bliss’s guilt is unthinkable. What could possibly have been the man’s motive? Kyle was his benefactor—”

  “Have you any ideas on the subject?” Vance interrupted.

  Scarlett shook his head emphatically.

  “Not the ghost of an idea. The thing has stunned me. I can’t imagine how it could have happened.”

  “Yes…most mysterious,” Vance murmured. “We’ll have to get at the matter by tryin’ to discover the motive.… That’s why we’re appealin’ to you. We want to know just what the inner workings are in the Bliss ménage. You, bein’ more or less of an outsider, can possibly lead us to the truth.… For instance, you mentioned an intimate relationship between Kyle and Mrs. Bliss’s father. Let us have the whole story.”

  “It’s a bit romantic, but quite simple.” Scarlett paused and took out his briar pipe. When he had got it going he continued: “You know the story of old Abercrombie, Meryt’s father. He went to Egypt in 1885, and became Grébaut’s assistant the following year when Sir Gaston Maspero returned to France to resume his chair at the Collège de France. Maspero returned to Egypt in 1899 and retained his position as head of the Egyptian Service des Antiquités at Cairo until his resignation in 1914, at which time he was elected permanent Secretary of the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres in Paris. Abercrombie then succeeded Maspero as Director of Antiquities at the Cairo Museum. In 1898, however, Abercrombie had fallen in love with a Copt lady, and had married her. Meryt was born two years later—in 1900.”

  Scarlett seemed to be having difficulty with his pipe, and used two matches to relight it.

  “Kyle entered the picture four years before Meryt’s birth,” he went on. “He came to Egypt in 1896 as a representative of a group of New York bankers who had become financially interested in the proposed Nile irrigation system.129 He met Abercrombie—then Grébaut’s assistant—and their acquaintance developed into a close friendship. Kyle returned to Egypt nearly every year during the process of the dam’s construction—that is, until 1902. He naturally met the Coptic lady whom Abercrombie subsequently married, and, I have every reason to believe, was much smitten with her. But being Abercrombie’s friend and a gentleman, he refrained from any trespassing. However, when the lady died, at Meryt’s birth, he quite openly transferred his affections from the mother to the daughter. He became Meryt’s godfather and, in a big-hearted way, looked out for her as though she had been his own child.… Kyle wasn’t a bad scout.”

  “And Bliss?”

  “Bliss first went to Egypt in the winter of 1913. He met Abercrombie at that time, and they became friendly. He also met Meryt, who was then only thirteen years old. Seven years later—in 1920—young Salveter introduced Bliss to Kyle; and the first expedition to Egypt was made in the winter of 1921-22. Abercrombie died in Egypt in the summer of 1922, and Meryt was fathered, after a fashion, by Hani, who had been an old family retainer. The second Bliss expedition was in 1922-23; and Bliss again met Meryt. She was now twenty-three; and the following spring Bliss married her.… You met Meryt, Vance, on the third Bliss expedition in 1924.… Bliss brought Meryt back to America with him after the second expedition; and last year he added Hani to his personal staff. Hani had then been made an under inspector by the Egyptian Government.… That sums up the relationship between Bliss and Kyle and Abercrombie and Meryt. Is it what you wanted?”

  “Exactly.” Vance looked at the tip of his cigarette thoughtfully. “Briefly, then, Kyle was interested in Mrs. Bliss because of his love for her mother and his friendship for her father; and no doubt he had an added interest in financing Bliss’s later expeditions because of the fact that Bliss married the daughter of his lost love.”

  “Yes, the assumption is perfectly reasonable.”

  “That bein’ the case, Kyle probably has not forgotten Mrs. Bliss in his will. Do you happen to know, Scarlett, if he made any provision for her?”

  “As I understand it,” Scarlett explained, “he left a very considerable fortune to Meryt. I have only Hani’s word for it; but he once mentioned to me that Kyle had willed her a large amount. Hani was elated over the fact, for there’s no doubt he has a very deep, dog-like affection for her.”

  “And what of Salveter?”

  “I presume that Kyle has taken care of him generously. Kyle was not married—whether his loyalty to Meryt’s mother was responsible for his bachelorhood, I can’t say—and Salveter was his only nephew. Moreover, he liked Salveter immensely. I’m inclined to think that, when the will is read, it’ll be found he left Meryt and Salveter equal amounts.”

  Vance turned to Markham.

  “Could you have one of your various diplomatic coadjutors find out confidentially about Kyle’s will? I’ve a notion the data would help us materially.”

  “It might be done,” Markham returned. “T
he moment this thing breaks in the papers Kyle’s attorneys will come forward. I’ll use a little pressure.”

  Vance again addressed Scarlett.

  “I believe you told me that Kyle had recently begun to balk at the expenses of the Bliss expeditions.—Can you suggest any reason for his deflection other than lack of immediate results?”

  “No-o.” Scarlett pondered a moment. “You know, expeditions such as Doctor Bliss had planned are deucedly expensive luxuries, and the results, of course, are highly problematic. Furthermore, however successful they are, it takes a long time to produce any tangible evidence of their value. Kyle was getting impatient; he was not an Egyptologist and knew little of such matters; and he may have thought that Doctor Bliss was on an extravagant wild-goose chase at his expense. Fact is, he intimated last year that unless some definite results were obtained during the new excavations he’d not go on doling out money. That was why the doctor was so anxious last night to present a financial report and to have Kyle see the new treasures that arrived yesterday.”

  “There was nothing personal in Kyle’s attitude?”

  “To the contrary. All the relationships were very friendly. Kyle liked Bliss personally and respected him immensely. And Bliss had only praise and gratitude for Kyle.… No, Vance, you’ll find nothing by going at it from that angle.”

  “How did the doctor feel last night about the possible outcome of his interview with Kyle?—Was he worried or sanguine?”

  Scarlett knit his brows and puffed at his pipe.

  “Neither, I should say,” he answered at length. “His state of mind was what might be described as philosophic. He’s inclined to be easy-going—takes things as they come—and he has a rare amount of self-control. The serious scholar at all times—if you comprehend me.”

  “Quite.…” Vance put out his cigarette and folded his hands behind his head. “But what do you think would have been the effect on Doctor Bliss if Kyle had refused to finance the expedition further?”

  “That’s hard to say.… He’d probably have looked for capital elsewhere—remember, he had made great strides in his work despite the fact that he had not actually entered Intef’s tomb.”

  “And what was young Salveter’s attitude in the face of a possible cessation of the excavations?”

  “He was more upset about it than the doctor. Salveter has unbounded enthusiasm, and he made several pleas to his uncle to continue financing the work. If Kyle had refused to go on, it would have come pretty near breaking the lad’s heart. I understand he even offered to forgo his inheritance if Kyle would see the expedition through.”

  “There’s no mistakin’ Salveter’s earnestness,” Vance acceded. Then he was silent for a considerable time. Finally he reached for his cigarette-case; but he did not open it, and sat tapping it with his fingers. “There’s another point I want to ask you about, Scarlett,” he said presently. “How does Mrs. Bliss regard her husband’s work?”

  The question was vague—purposely so, I imagine; and Scarlett was a little puzzled. But after moment he replied:

  “Oh, Meryt is quite the loyal wife. During the first year or so of her marriage she was most interested in all the doctor did—in fact, she accompanied him, as you know, on his 1924 expedition. Lived in a tent and all that sort of thing, and seemed perfectly happy. But—to tell you the truth, Vance—her interest has been waning of late. A racial reaction, I take it. The Egyptian blood in her is a powerful influence. Her mother was almost fanatical on the subject of Egyptian sanctity, and very proud; resented the so-called desecration of the tombs of her ancestors by western barbarians—as she designated all Occidental scientists. But Meryt has never voiced her own opinions,—I’m merely assuming that some of the mother’s antagonism has recently cropped out in her. Nothing serious though, please understand. Meryt has been absolutely loyal to Bliss and his chosen work.”

  “Hani may have had something to do with her state of mind,” commented Vance.

  Scarlett shot him a questioning look.

  “It’s barely possible,” he admitted reluctantly, and lapsed into silence.

  Vance tenaciously pursued the subject.

  “Most probably, I’d say. And I’d go even further. I’ve a suspicion that Doctor Bliss himself recognized Hani’s influence on his wife, and became bitterly resentful. You recall the tirade he launched against Hani when he came into the museum this morning. He openly accused Hani of poisoning Mrs. Bliss’s mind.”

  Scarlett moved uneasily in his chair and chewed the stem of his pipe.

  “There’s never been any love between the doctor and Hani,” he remarked evasively. “Bliss brought him to America solely because Meryt insisted on it. I think he believes Hani is spying on him for the Egyptian Government.”

  “Is it entirely unlikely?” Vance put the question offhandedly.

  “Really, Vance, I can’t answer that.” Scarlett suddenly leaned forward, and his features became tense. “But I’ll tell you this: Meryt is incapable of any fundamental disloyalty to her husband. Even though she may think she made a mistake in marrying Doctor Bliss—who’s much older than she is and completely absorbed in his work—she’d stand by her bargain…like a thoroughbred.”

  “Ah…just so.” Vance nodded slightly and selected a Régie from his case. “And that brings me to a most delicate question.… Do you think that Mrs. Bliss has any—what shall I say?—interests outside of her husband? That is, aside from Doctor Bliss’s life work, is it possible that her more intimate emotions are involved elsewhere?”

  Scarlett got to his feet and began spluttering.

  “Oh, really, Vance.… Dash it all!… You’ve no right to ask me such a question.… I’m no quidnunc.… One doesn’t talk about such things; it’s not done—really it isn’t, old man.… You put me in a most embarrassing position.…” (Scarlett’s predicament roused my sympathy.)

  “Neither is murder done in the best circles,” returned Vance equably. “We’re dealin’ with a most unusual situation. And somebody translated Kyle from this world into the hereafter in a very distressin’ fashion.… But since your sensitivities are so deuced lacerated I’ll withdraw the question.” He smiled disarmingly. “You’re not entirely impervious to the lady’s charms yourself—eh, what Scarlett?”

  The man whirled about and glared at Vance ferociously. Before he could answer, Vance stood up and looked him steadily in the eyes.

  “A man has been murdered,” he said quietly; “and a devilish plot has been introduced into that murder. Another human life is at stake. And I’m here to find out who concocted this hideous scheme and to save an innocent person from the electric chair. Therefore I’m not going to let any squeamish conventional taboos stand in my way.” His voice softened somewhat. “I appreciate your reticence. Under ordin’ry circumstances it would be most admirable. But just now it’s rather silly.”

  Scarlett met Vance’s gaze squarely, and after a few seconds he sat down again.

  “You’re quite right, old man,” he acquiesced, in a low voice. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  Vance nodded indifferently and smoked for a while.

  “I think you’ve told me everything,” he said finally. “But we may call on you later.… It’s far past lunch time. Suppose you toddle along home.”

  Scarlett drew a deep sigh of relief and got to his feet.

  “Thanks awfully.” And without another word he went out.

  Heath followed him, and we could hear him giving instructions to Snitkin to let Scarlett leave the house.

  “Well,” said Markham to Vance, when the Sergeant had returned; “how has Scarlett’s information helped you? I can’t see that it has thrown any very dazzling light on our problem.”

  “My word!” Vance shook his head with commiserating incredulity. “Scarlett has put us infinitely forrader. He was most revealin’. We now have a definite foundation on which to stand when we chivy the members of the household.”

  “I’m glad you feel so conf
ident.” Markham rose and regarded Vance sternly. “You can’t really believe—?” He broke off, as if he did not quite dare to articulate his thought.

  “Yes, I believe this crime was merely a means to an end,” Vance returned. “Its real object, I’m convinced, was to involve an innocent person and thus wash the slate clean of several annoyin’ elements.”

  Markham stood stock-still for several seconds.

  “I think I see what you mean,” he nodded. “It’s possible of course.”

  He walked up the museum and back again, his head clouded in cigar smoke.

  “See here;”—he stood looking grimly down at Vance—“I want to ask you a question. I recall your asking Salveter for a pencil.… What make of pencil was used for the ‘upright’ which you found on top of the end cabinet?—Was it a Mongol No. 1?”

  Vance shook his head.

  “No. It was not a Mongol. It was a Koh-i-noor—an HB, a much harder lead than the No. 1 Mongol, which is very soft.… Y’ know, Mongols and Koh-i-noors look exactly alike: they’re both hexagonal and yellow. The Koh-i-noor is made by Hardtmuth in Czecho-Slovakia—one of the oldest firms in Europe. Originally the Koh-i-noors were Austrian pencils, but after the World War the Austrian empire was divided—”

  “Never mind the kindergarten lesson in history.” Markham’s face became suddenly overcast. “So it wasn’t a Mongol that was used in the death trap.…” He came closer to Vance. “Another question—and all your garrulousness about the Austrian Successor States can’t divert me: What make of pencil were those you looked at on Doctor Bliss’s desk in the study?”

  Vance sighed.

  “I feared you’d ask that question. And, y’ know, I’m almost afraid to tell you—you’re so impulsive.…”

  Markham glowered with exasperation and started toward Bliss’s study.

  “Oh, it won’t be necess’ry for you to trudge up the spiral stairs,” Vance called after him. “I’ll tell you.… They were Koh-i-noors.”

  “Ah!”

  “But I say; are you goin’ to let that fact influence you?”