Читать книгу The Night of the Storm - Arthur Gask - Страница 4

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JULY 10th. I do not wonder it is three days since I have written a line, and even now I scarcely have the heart to take up my pen, for it is so dreadful to think that in the years to come everything will be down here in black and white, to recall what happened.

But whether I write or not we shall forget nothing, and all our lives the memory will remain with us that we have been accused of being murderesses.

Oh! that awful night, and the much more awful days that have followed!

And we had been so happy, too, up to then, and there had not seemed to be a single cloud in the sky. The ball had been such a great success, and in a few days we were going to town to help Eva choose her own trousseau.

Then, in a few hours, down came the avalanche, and we were hunted and haunted creatures. Policemen and Detectives were spying into our lives, asking us the most terrible questions, and as good as telling us, too, that one of us was going to be hanged.

But how could any sane person have imagined that one of us could have killed Mr. Toller; that Billy could have crept out into the night to commit a murder, or that Eva, in the joy and happiness of being about to marry the man she loves, had carried out such an awful crime? How could I, too, like a mad woman on the talkies, have been so dead to the sacredness of father's memory as to use his rifle to murder anyone—even if I had wanted to?

And yet they were all so sure of it, and that hard-voiced Superintendent, with such insolent contempt, refused altogether to believe that after we had gone off to bed none of us had left our rooms again that night, and he glared at us as if he were a judge condemning us to death.

But I will put down exactly what happened that dreadful night, and afterwards, before my brain gets addled and my memory too confused to write everything in its proper order.

We went to bed a few minutes before half-past nine, and I was so tired that, almost the moment my head had touched the pillow, I fell asleep. I remembered nothing more until I was awakened by an insistent tapping upon my door, and instantly it flashed into my mind that one of the maids had been taken ill, and I thought at once of Rose, because she had fainted the previous night at the ball. But when I switched on the light and, opening the door, saw Chime standing there as white as a ghost, and he whispered to me that Mr. Toller had met with an accident, and that Dr. Athol was waiting downstairs to tell me about it, an instinct warned me that something terrible had happened.

Chime went off instantly after giving me the message, and so, hurriedly throwing on my dressing gown, I came down to the hall to find him standing with Dr. Athol there, perfectly silent and the very picture of gloom. Then Dr. Athol told me very quietly that Mr. Toller had just been found murdered in his office, and that he had been shot through the open window.

When I was gasping at the horror of the news, he pointed to the wall and asked me sharply if any of us had moved father's rifle. For the moment I was so dazed that I couldn't grasp what he was asking, and he had to repeat the question. Then when I shook my head numbly, he went on to say, very solemnly, that the dreadful feature of the crime was, that in all probability it had been done with that very rifle. Someone must have come in and stolen it, for just before Chime had shut up the house for the night he had heard the hall door being shut, and, immediately afterwards had noticed that the rifle was missing.

Then he warned me on no account to tell Billy or Eva that night, and to break the news most carefully to Billy the next morning. I was to make out to her that the police thought it must have been an accident and that some poacher might have done it when he had come after the pheasants. I was to tell her, too, that the doctor would come round as early as he could in the morning.

Oh, I felt so dreadfully ill when I got back to my room and would have given anything for some brandy. But I dared not go down again to get it. I was afraid of the darkness of the stairs.

So, with my heart beating so fast that every moment I thought I was going to faint, I lay on the bed wondering and wondering who could have been the murderer, if it had been done with poor father's rifle and a cartridge had been taken from the hall-stand, then the murderer must have been someone who knew the house well.

I went over all the tenants in my mind, one by one, and especially those who had particular reason to dislike Mr. Toller. But then nobody had liked Mr. Toller very much. He was too curt and brusque with everyone who had to come to him about the affairs of the estate, and although we girls knew he was very capable and was managing everything splendidly for us, we didn't like him for other reasons.

Certainly, he had always kept his place with us, and had never shown himself in the slightest respect familiar, but we had all agreed he had a bold way of looking at women, and it wasn't pleasing. Eva said it was a sort of veiled insolence, as if he thought he could make any woman fall in love with him, if he wanted to.

So, in a personal way, we had never taken to him, and from the beginning we had made up our minds to keep him at a distance. No one could deny he was good looking, and with people talking so much, as they do in little country places, we didn't want the slightest whisper of any scandal.

Then when I thought of scandal I could feel my eyes fill with burning tears. What an awful scandal this would mean now! The police would come again in the morning, they would bring detectives with them who would cross-examine everyone, there would be an inquest and the newspapers would be full of it.

What a dreadful time we were in for, and how broken now would be the peace and quietness of our lives!

Directly it was light I slipped out of my room and told Eva and Billy everything. Darling Billy went as white as a sheet and couldn't get her breath, but Eva didn't turn a hair, and said at once she wasn't a bit surprised. She was sure some girl must have killed him and no doubt he had deserved it.

Then when we were at breakfast the many dreadful shocks of the day began, for Chime came in, looking very upset, and told us Evans had heard the shot that killed Mr. Toller, and had actually seen the murderer running away as if he were coming up to the Priory.

Then, not half an hour afterwards, we heard loud voices in the hall and Superintendent Russell from Colchester burst rudely into the room and began shouting that he had evidence one of us had gone out of the house late the previous night, and he hadn't the slightest doubt, whichever one it was, that she had killed Mr. Toller.

It was awful the way he started to rave at us, and I was terrified.

The Superintendent went on repeating, over and over again, that it must be one of us, and he tried to twist what poor Chime had said, when they were looking at Mr. Toller's dead body, so that it would seem likely.

But we soon saw he had not a scrap of real evidence against us, and once the shock of his accusations was over, we answered him quite coolly, and I am sure let him see we were not in the least afraid of him.

Then afterwards Dr. Athol came in, and, with that grave, quiet smile of his, told us to take no notice at all of the Superintendent. He said the police were up against a blank wall. They had found out nothing and it was only that that made them so ready to accuse anyone. He comforted us at once, and it was delightful to see how Billy seemed to revive.

All day long the detectives were in and out of the house, asking questions of all the servants and demanding to search everyone's room. They said, too, we were on no account to go out of the grounds, and they put a policeman by the gates to keep guard.

It was a dreadful day, and yesterday and today have been almost as bad. It has been a relief not to have seen the Superintendent, but there have been detectives and police searching the grounds and they have kept on coming in to ask us more questions. One of the detectives is occupying the bungalow, and we can see the lights on there until one and two in the morning. I wonder if they are expecting the murderer to come back and try to kill someone else.

Thank goodness, Eva telephoned at once to Jimmy to come down, and since he talked to the detectives, they have been much more polite. Of course, Charles has been here as well, but although he is Sir Charles Mentone, they didn't pay as much attention to him as they did to Jimmy. The dear old fellow kept on losing his temper, and then they answered back that they were only doing their duty, and had been obliged to ask all the questions they thought necessary.

All the good Charles really did was to frighten off some reporters who came from the London newspapers. One man said he was prepared to offer what he called 'big money' if we would allow him to take our photographs.

Mary has been to see us every day and has brightened us up a lot. Augustine has come too, and he couldn't have been kinder or more sympathetic. Really, I have never liked him so much before, and I didn't draw away my hand, as I usually do, when he holds it longer than necessary, in saying good-bye. He wanted us to go to evensong tonight, and said no one had the right to stop us, but we knew how the people would stare, and so we decided to keep away.

Dear me, I wonder how it would feel for a murderess to find herself a clergyman's wife?

But I am wrong to smile, even to myself. Our trouble is so dreadful, and it can really have no end. Always, always, people will look at us and they will think to themselves: "One of those girls committed a murder once. Now which of them can it be?"

I am so tired. I do hope I get some sleep tonight.

July 11th. I have written to Gilbert Larose. I have asked him to come and help us.

No one knows we have done it, and it was Eva's suggestion.

She had been talking over the phone to Jimmy and he had happened to mention that Mr. Larose had been the best detective anyone had ever known, and if he had only been at Scotland Yard now and had been put on the case, he would have found out who the murderer was long ago, and we should have been saved this terrible shame.

Then Eva came and told us what Jimmy had said and wanted to telephone in a hurry to Carmel Abbey in Norfolk, where Mr. Larose lives. But I reminded her that Mr. Larose had married that rich widow, Lady Helen Ardane, and it would be no good us offering him money to come. I said it would be an impertinence, too, for perfect strangers to ask him for help and especially to telephone him, as over the phone we could explain so little.

We argued over it for a long time and in the end it was arranged we should send him a letter. So I wrote it, and it was posted tonight. I feel rather ashamed now that we have done it, for I feel certain he won't come.

More detectives have been here today and one is still staying on at the bungalow. He is a horrid man, called Lesser, with big, deep-sunk eyes. He walks round and round the Priory and keeps staring up at the windows, as if he expected to see the murderer standing there.

He went into the kitchen this afternoon and asked Susan to give him a cup of tea. He told her they had not done with us yet, and there would be some surprises for us before long.

It is simply awful for us all, and the strain has told a lot upon Billy. She has been looking very pale and drawn today, and I can see Norman Athol is getting anxious about her. He has given us all a double dose of sleeping tablets to take tonight. I feel worn out. I wonder if Mr. Larose will come.

July 12.—We are thrilled! Mr. Larose is coming! He says he will be here early tomorrow morning! He telephoned tonight, when we were in the middle of dinner, and apologised that he had only just come in and read my letter.

But, oh! how my heart beat when Chime came in and said there was a trunk call for me from Downham Market. I was dreadfully afraid I was going to get an awful snub. Instead, Mr. Larose sounded ever so nice. He said he had read about Mr. Toller's death, and would be only too happy to help us. It would be like old times to him. He told me to cheer up and to worry as little as possible.

We were delighted, and when, as a great secret, Chime was told, his eyes filled with tears, he was so relieved. Eva insisted we should open a bottle of champagne, and Billy had her first good meal since the night Mr. Toller was killed.

After dinner Dr. Athol came with Mary, and he was most astonished when we told him Mr. Larose was coming. But he was very pleased about it, and told us, laughingly, that leading spiritualists say Mr. Larose could be the greatest medium in the world if he wanted to, for they fully believe he can call up the spirits of the murdered dead.

We had quite a happy evening, but something has rather disturbed me, and, with all our own troubles, I cannot understand how I can yet come to dwell upon it.

We are very fond of Mary and Norman, and, as I was watching them tonight the dreadful thought came to me suddenly that she does not love him as she should.

Several times she seemed to look very peculiarly at him, and it made me wonder if, after all, she is only marrying him to become Lady Athol when his uncle dies.

Can she possibly be jealous of Billy—I can hardly think it, with her fine nature, but then, it's a very sad and unkind world.