Читать книгу The Judgment of Larose - Arthur Gask - Страница 3

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Dearest Mum and Dad,

I know you will have been anxious to hear from me and wondering why I haven't written at once, but, as you can well guess, things have been dreadfully upset here, and really, I don't seem to have had a moment to spare.

These last three days have been a perfect nightmare for everyone. The place has been full of policemen and detectives, and now, to cap all, we hear that the terrible Gilbert Larose is coming, and that always means, so Mr. Slim says, a hanging for someone. Mr. Slim—he is the butler here—calls Gilbert Larose the 'Angel of Death,' and says he is the greatest detective in all the world, and that once he is on the spot they will find the murderer at once.

Of course, you read in the newspapers that I was the first to find the body, and I shall never forget it.

When I drew the curtains and pulled up the blinds that morning and saw poor Captain Dane lying with the dreadful stain upon the carpet all round his head I went icy cold in horror, but I didn't faint and I didn't even scream and I am sure you would have been proud of me, for I was a true policeman's daughter.

I just held my breath for one moment and then ran out quickly to get help.

But I will tell you everything from the beginning, from when I came here exactly eight days ago—it seems eight years to me, so much has happened—and then you will realise how dreadful we all feel, for it has been clearly proved, so the police say, that the murder was done by somebody inside the house. No one broke in—they are sure of that.

But isn't it awful, Dad? Some one of us here, someone I have been seeing every day, is a murderer and perhaps, even, I have been waiting upon him and standing at dinner behind his chair. The whole thing is a terrible scandal for Sir James and his lady, and I am so sorry for them, for really they are such nice people. They have been married only a few months and my lady is very sweet and pretty.

Well, as you know, it was yesterday week that I came here, and I was certain at once that I should like the situation. Everything is made as comfortable as possible for us and the food is very good. There are five of us girls and Mr. Slim, the butler, and the cook, Mrs. Salter, who is also the housekeeper, and outside there is Mr. Binks, the chauffeur, who lives with his wife in the lodge by the entrance gates.

I was kept on the go from the moment I came, for they were expecting a big house party for the races at Goodwood, and the visitors began arriving on Saturday. Thirteen of them altogether, seven ladies and six gentlemen.

Such swell-looking people! Real aristocrats every one of them, I think, however, we girls at once liked poor Captain Dane best of them all, for although he was not tall and big, he was so handsome and dashing and so pleasant to everyone. He always gave me a smile whenever I did anything for him and he had such winning ways with him.

Well, on the Tuesday, the day before the murder, they all went to Goodwood, and we heard in the evening in the servants' hall that Captain Dane had won a tremendous lot of money at the races. He backed Gallant Boy at fifty to one and from the talk in the billiard-room Mr. Slim learnt that he had won over two thousand pounds from the bookmakers, and had got it all in banknotes.

They drank to his health that night at dinner, and it was a truly wonderful scene; just like one you see on the pictures. I can shut my eyes now, and it all comes to me again. The great long table, with the candle lights, the shining silver, and the glasses and the flowers, and the magnificent dresses, and the diamonds, and the pearls. And they were all so bright and happy, too, and in such high spirits. Her ladyship was perhaps a little quiet, but then she was busy all the time, looking after everybody, and so anxious that nothing should go wrong. Mr. Slim says that this is her first big house party, and he didn't wonder she was anxious, for she was only a poor clergyman's daughter before she married, and she has had to learn everything since.

Well, after dinner they danced in the ballroom until nearly 12 o'clock, and I went up to bed dead sleepy, so it was a little later than usual the next morning—about five and twenty minutes to seven—when I went into the billiard-room and found the dead body.

As I have told you, I didn't make any fuss, but I ran instantly to fetch Mr. Slim, and he, after one quick look at the poor captain, tore upstairs for the master. Sir James came down in his dressing-gown, looking very white and shocked, and then, directly he had seen the body, he had the billiard-room door locked and telephoned for the police.

Then the house became a prison, and it has been like one ever since. The police swarmed over the place, and no one was allowed to leave. Everyone was questioned by the detectives, and, one by one, we were taken into the library and examined, and all our lives gone through. They took all our finger-prints, and even I was glared at as if they had suspicions about me, and what poor Mr. Slim went through—heaven only knows.

You see, they are so certain that the captain was killed by some one inside the house, because not only had none of the doors or windows on the ground floor been unbolted, and none of the burglar alarms disturbed, but also, the lodge gates had been locked as usual all night, and Noah and Esau, the two big Alsatian dogs, had been roaming loose in the grounds.

Well, as I say, for the first two days the police absolutely refused to allow any one to leave, and now, as they have still not found out anything. Sir James has made the guests agree all on their own accord to remain on as long as the police require.

Some at them don't like it at all, but Mr. Slim says the master was very stern, and insisted that for the sake of every one they ought all to help the law as much as they possibly could. They were all under a cloud, he said, and it was not fair that any one should go away before everything was found out.

So here we are—the gay house-party, with all the gayness gone out of it, and all of us speaking in hushed voices, and going about like ghosts.

Her ladyship looks downright ill, and it is wonderful how she manages to bear up and continues to look after the comfort of all the others.

Well, I have told you some things you will not have read in the newspapers, and now I'll reckon up three of the people who I think may have done the murder, because, as your daughter, I am sure I have some of the policeman instinct in me, and can put two and two together in a way other people can't.

Now, one person I am suspicious of is a Colonel Mead here, for, although he is as well dressed and swanky as any one, we know he is hard up and being pressed for money. Yes, Dad, he is going to have summonses sent to him.

Elsie found this out—she is one of the housemaids—from two letters she read in his room. They had fallen out of the pockets of one of his coats, and she happened to glance over them, she says, before putting them back. One was from a cigar shop in Piccadilly, where he owes over sixty pounds, and the other from a tailor in Regent street, who wants nearly a hundred pounds, and they both threaten him with the courts if he doesn't pay up at once. Now, what do you think of that?

Remember—whoever killed the captain robbed him of all those bank notes, and what is more likely than that this Colonel Mead did it to pay his debts?

Then there is another of the visitors I am doubtful about—a woman this time—the beautiful Lady Sylvia Drews.

She is a widow, very stylish and handsome, and getting on for forty, I should say. Every one could see that she had started at once to make up furiously to the captain, and the night before the races when he was laughing and talking to Lady Marley I particularly noticed how angry she looked. She was as jealous as a cat, I am sure, and she might easily have given that blow with the poker that killed him, for I have seen her swinging her golf clubs, and she is as strong as a man. I know she more than liked the captain, for you can trust one woman to see when another woman is in love.

Then there's another here that I am certain didn't like the captain—a barrister called Mr. Wardle, for I overheard him say once to Mr. Rainey, as I was serving tea, that he'd give short shrift anyhow to someone, and I'm sure they were talking about the captain, because they were looking at him, and I have an instinct that with all his cleverness this Mr. Wardle is a cruel, unscrupulous man.

You see, the poor captain would never have been a great favourite with men because he was so handsome, and no girl could help admiring him. And he knew it, too. Mr. Slim was always saying that he looked at us girls, even, as if we would drop on to his knees the moment he asked us to. Mr. Slim hated him.

Well, here we all are, waiting for something to happen, just like a lot of frightened prisoners huddled up together, with one of us condemned to die and the hangman coming tomorrow.

Thank goodness I'm not burly like you, Dad, and haven't got a strong muscular arm, for no one can really think I could have done the murder, because, Mr. Slim says, it was a tremendous smashing blow that caused the poor captain's death.

Well, good-bye; I'll write to you again soon after that wonderful Larose has been and found out everything.

Your loving daughter,

Betty.