Читать книгу The Alster Case - Rufus Gillmore - Страница 6

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The interim between sessions General Alster and I spent mainly in the room on the third floor where the girls continued to seclude themselves. Beatrice, despite our protests, ordered Agnes to bring up a light luncheon. General Alster nibbled politely at it. Beatrice seemed too troubled to eat. I made only a pretense of playing with the food. But Linda, after first scorning them, finally ate quite a number of the sandwiches and cakes on the tray.

Though there were no further differences between the girls such as I had witnessed, they still sedulously avoided addressing each other; and General Alster’s attempts to divert their minds and bring them together in general conversation failed utterly. After a time he desisted and called me to the other end of the room, where we talked over business matters in a low tone. He appeared to take for granted that I should at once take charge of everything—with his assistance, however. Young as I was and fresh to such important duties, he seemed to place implicit confidence in my honesty, ability and judgment. He asked me about the terms of the will; when he learned that I was named as the sole executor, he pledged his aid in securing the bond required; more important than this, he relieved my immediate worry by agreeing to transfer to me the following morning a large sum of money to meet expenses until the will should be probated and I would be empowered to collect money due the estate. Of course the money advanced was to be repaid to him later from the estate, but this action made it possible for me to cope at once with those demands of my new trust for which my own meager resources were utterly, not to say pathetically, inadequate. My heart lightened at his confidence. I told him as much warmly, and I made up my mind to listen humbly to all his suggestions and to deserve his faith by acting on them.

If he were conscious at this early stage of the strained relations between the two girls at the other end of that same room, he made not the slightest reference to it. He could hardly have missed noticing their moody silence, and he must have wondered at the pointed manner in which Linda addressed only us two men; but he carefully covered this with his own conversation and, though their obstinate silence made the time drag, we were finally all summoned downstairs to the inquest.

At General Alster’s suggestion Beatrice and Linda seated themselves with him on the divan in the front room which he had previously occupied. There was room only for him and the two girls. After a moment’s hesitation I left them and went into the dining-room, where all the other people had gathered. Coroner Halsperg was just taking his place at the further end of the dining-room table. I slipped into an inconspicuous seat in the nearest corner of the room and looked interestedly about for Trask. He was neither in the seat he had occupied at the morning session, nor elsewhere in that room so far as I could see. Wondering if the coroner could have informed him of our failure to be impressed by his looks, I was soon deeply interested in the testimony.

The session was full of surprises. Coroner Halsperg opened by calling for the locksmith. He failed to rise. Instead, the sergeant of police drew near and appeared to be proffering excuses. But these evidently failed to placate the wrath of the official in charge. Coroner Halsperg grew red of face and pounded on the table as he finally yelled, “You send a man for him. You bring him here by the scruff of his neck, if necessary,” he ordered. And the sergeant, making the best of the situation with a surly grin, left the room for a few minutes, apparently to send an officer for the strangely recalcitrant witness.

This incident affected the doughty little coroner beyond all apparent reason. I have always noticed that officials in the lower positions are quick to take offense at the frustration of their plans or the slightest questioning of their authority. At any rate, Coroner Halsperg seemed in a fury that he took his time to control before starting the inquest again; and throughout the session he appeared inclined to take out his anger on the witnesses, manifesting at times a surly, snapping disposition quite the reverse of his unruffled bearing earlier in the day.

I was called as the first witness myself. I stumbled awkwardly to my place a little white, I knew, at feeling all eyes on me.

At the coroner’s request I related what I had seen of Miss Alster the previous night. She had invited me to act as her escort to the opera. I reached the house at eight; we left together within five or ten minutes, arriving in her box after the curtain had risen on the first act of “Tristan und Isolde.” Soon Miss Alster complained of not feeling well. Even before that act was over she requested me to get a taxi and take her home. I secured one. Just before it was about to turn into her street she beat on the window and signed for the chauffeur to draw up to the curb. She explained that she thought she would like to walk the rest of the way home. It was only half a block. She seemed unusually silent, moody and nervous, but I ascribed it to her indisposition. Going up the steps she handed me her latchkey and I observed that her hands trembled noticeably. I opened the door, she passed in without inviting me to come also, so I returned the key and closed the door between us. My last sight of her was as she hurried away upstairs. Then I walked to the corner and took a Madison Avenue car to my boarding house.

“That’s all.” The coroner did not ask me a question. He merely waved me disdainfully back to my seat.

Miss Alster had managed to get along with but three servants by securing unusually efficient ones and paying them wages above the average. Alice, the fat, good-natured colored cook, followed me as a witness. The coroner waved her aside as soon as she had told her story, just as he had me. In Agnes, however, he appeared to perceive a foe worthy of his mood. He plied her with questions about Keith, the missing butler.

“You say he must have left the house sometime early in the evening—how do you know that?” he demanded.

“Because I never saw him after he went upstairs, and this morning we found his bed had not been slept in.”

“You have testified that Keith went upstairs about eight, that the cook followed at quarter past eight, and that you went up ten or fifteen minutes later. Now, when you went upstairs where were all the other people in the house?”

“I don’t know.”

“What? No lights in any of the rooms or sounds to tell you where the other three or four people were?”

“Well, there was someone in the library.”

“That is the large room directly in front of the room where your mistress’s body was found this morning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How do you know there was someone in that room?”

“By the light and because someone was playing softly on the piano there.”

The coroner seemed to perceive by the manner in which she snapped back this answer that he was on the trail of information that she was reluctant to give. “For no other reasons?” he demanded sharply.

“Well, I thought I heard two people talking in there but—but I guess I didn’t,” Agnes stammered.

“What makes you think you didn’t?”

“Because the voices stopped the minute I started up the first flight and, anyway, one of the voices sounded like a man’s.”

“Ah, the voices stopped and someone began to play softly?” The coroner waited until she nodded assent. “Did you look into the library as you passed to see who was there?”

“No, I’ll have you understand I’m no spy.”

“No.” Coroner Halsperg lost some of his own anger at hers. He went on more suavely. “But who must have been in that room at that time?”

“I told you I didn’t know.”

“Someone was playing the piano—do both the young ladies play the piano?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you couldn’t tell by that which one of them it may have been?”

“No, sir.” Agnes had regained her former composure.

“Very well. But you thought you heard a man’s voice. Couldn’t that have been Keith’s?”

“No, sir.” Agnes’s contempt bristled. “Miss Beatrice would never stand for having that man in the room with her.”

“Oh, so it was Miss Beatrice who was in that room playing the piano?”

“Well—” Agnes paused in confusion, “well, it may or may not have been. I’m not saying. Sure she’s a lady and has nothing to hide from you. She’ll tell you if she was.”

“Doubtless, but aren’t you aware that you are giving things a bad look by not telling us frankly what you saw and heard and thought?”

“That’s my fault, not hers. And I’m not that used to answering a blundering Dutchman’s questions to have the right word ever on the tip of my tongue.”

“Well, forget that I’m a Dutchman—and that you’re Irish,” retorted the coroner testily. He frowned heavily. “And no more of this equivocation or—” he pointed threateningly toward the sergeant of police who had returned to his side. “Do you understand?”

Agnes blew her nose to hide her tears and nodded.

Coroner Halsperg allowed her a few minutes to recover control, then went on. “Those were the only lights or sounds you noticed in any of the rooms on the first or second floors?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Agnes meekly.

“And your own room is on the fourth floor?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you observe any lights or sounds indicating that any of the other rooms were occupied as you went up?”

“There was a light showing under the door of Miss Linda’s room.”

“Then Miss Linda may have been in her own room last night about half past eight?”

“Yes, sir, that is, unless—”

But the coroner interrupted her ruthlessly. “Never mind about that. Miss Beatrice’s room is on that same floor, isn’t it? Was there any light in her room?”

“No, sir.” Agnes looked behind as if she feared the admission might be a dangerous one.

“And on your own floor—what lights or sounds did you notice there?”

Agnes palpably took a long still breath of relief. “There was a light under the door of the cook’s room, that was all.”

“You saw no light, nor heard any sound from Keith’s room on that floor?”

“No, sir, not a suspicion of one.”

The coroner maintained a long silence while he thought, his eyes dwelling on everyone except the witness. Agnes grew restive under it. “Is that all, sir?” she asked hopefully at last.

“No. Go on.”

“What more can I tell you, sir?” Agnes eyed him with alarm.

Coroner Halsperg squared round toward her. His voice became severe. “Everything. I want you to tell me everything else you saw and heard last night. Is there any reason why you don’t want to do that?”

“N-o, sir.”

“Well, go on.”

Agnes wiped her eyes. Her voice trembled a little at first as she continued. “Well, I went to my room—and I was that tired I got ready to go to bed at once—and—and just as I was putting out the light I thought I heard voices again, only this time they seemed to come from the room under me.

“From Miss Linda’s room?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Man’s voice this time, too?”

“I—I thought as one was.”

“Whose man’s voice was it you thought you heard?”

“I don’t know, sir.” Agnes’s response was quick and meek.

“Was it the same man’s voice you thought you heard before?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Could you distinguish any of the words?”

“No, sir, just a dull sort of a mumble.”

“And the other voice was a woman’s?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you heard them through your closed door and the thick floor?”

“Yes, sir—they seemed to be quarreling.”

“Well, what did you do about it?”

Agnes seemed to be taken aback by the implication that she ought to have done something. “Why—I—I just put out the light and got into bed.”

“You weren’t curious or interested?”

“No, sir, I thought it was none of my business.”

“Well, go on. Did the sounds keep up?”

“Yes, sir, but I was that tired I fell asleep.”

“Go on.”

Agnes stiffened perceptibly; again she looked behind, this time as if imploring help; and, though her lips trembled, she said nothing.

“Go on,” ordered the coroner implacably.

“Well,” Agnes sighed deeply, “I couldn’t have been asleep long before I was waked by a sound as if somebody was running upstairs. There seemed to be two of them and they stopped somewheres on the floor below. Then I heard the front door close and somebody else come running up two flights. Then there was hot words in the hall on the floor below me and the voice I heard sounded like mistress’s.”

“You mean like the late Miss Cornelia Alster’s?”

“Yes, sir. She seemed very angry. I lay for a time listening, but I couldn’t make out a word. Then I got to thinking she must be in one of her crazy fits again and perhaps the young ladies might need help.”

“Yes—well?” The coroner wearied of her long pause.

“At last I got up, went out in the hall just as quietly as I could, and looked down over the banister.”

“What did you see?”

“Nothing, except the mistress running back downstairs again toward her own room.”

“You saw or heard no one else whatever?”

“No, sir, not a living soul or sound.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I went back to bed again.”

“Why?”

“Because, quiet-like as I was, the mistress must have heard me. She looked up and caught me peeking down, and the look she gave me was that angry and fierce-like that I went about my business.”

“Hem!” The coroner seemed to be convinced that she was telling the truth. “What time was this?” he asked after a pause.

“I don’t know, sir. I had been asleep and I didn’t dare turn on my light again after the look the mistress gave me.”

“And there were no sounds nor anything that would give you a clew to the time?”

“No, sir—oh, yes, sir. When I first woke up I thought I heard the old hall clock down here striking the hour, but I don’t know what hour it was.”

“No.” Coroner Halsperg considered. “First you heard two people running upstairs to the floor on which the young ladies live, then you heard the front door close, then you heard someone else—one person this time—running up the two flights to the same floor—is that right?”

“Yes, sir, only this last one stopped for a time on the second floor and then came running up the other flight.”

“If this was your mistress then, she may have stopped at either her own room or the library on that floor?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You couldn’t tell by the sounds at which?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well, then, when you heard her talking loudly on the floor below, whose voice was it you heard answering her?”

“No one, sir, I told you that.”

“Yes, so you did.” Coroner Halsperg pretended to recall the fact. “But where did her voice sound as if she were standing on the floor below?”

“In the hall, sir.”

“Yes, yes, but what part of the hall? The front or the back of the hall?”

“I couldn’t tell, sir.”

“Did it sound as if she were near Miss Beatrice’s or Miss Linda’s room?”

“I couldn’t tell, sir, my door was closed.”

“Of course not.” Coroner Halsperg smiled ingratiatingly. “And when you ran out to go to the help of the young ladies you didn’t see either of them. Yes, I recall that. But I forget which of their doors you saw open and the light coming through. Which of the young ladies’ doors did you say that was?”

But evidently Agnes was keeping nothing back now and hence was not to be trapped. She looked at the coroner with a surprise too natural to have been put on. “I didn’t see any open door or light, sir. The hall below was dark. I didn’t see anyone but her. On my sainted mother, I can’t help you to find who it was she was quarreling with.” And Coroner Halsperg after a long look at her gave up cross-examining her further.