"The Devil_s Steps" - читать интересную книгу автора (Upfield Arthur W.)

Chapter Thirteen

The Kitchen Party

WITH THE scream ringing in his ears Bony raced into the kitchen of Wideview Chalet, closely followed by the dour Mr. Downes, Sleeman, Lee, Miss Jade and the artist.

Beyond the large cooking range, Bony saw the rear vision of Mrs. Parkes. Her large body was clothed in black, neatly halved by the white bands of an apron. The sleeves of her blouse were rolled above the bends of her arms where, in normal persons, elbow joints would be visible. One arm was raised and in the hand of that arm was gripped a flat-iron.

Upon the table where the staff ate, the girl Alice was kneeling. Her hands were resting upon her bended knees, and her head was tilted back. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open, and from that mouth issued another long-drawn-out shriek. In the instant that she paused for breath, Mrs. Parkes snapped:

“Shut your trap, Alice! Leave him to me!”

A moment, two, three of paralysing inactivity held everyone in the kitchen. Then Mrs. Parkes said, conversationally:

“He’s coming out!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” cried Alice in an ascending octave, and began all over again her scream of horror.

Slowly, reminding Bony of a show figure revolving in a shop window, Mrs. Parkes began to turn in the direction of Alice on the table. As she turned so did the girl’s shriek rise up thescale. Then, like a classical javelin thrower, Mrs. Parkes threw the flat-iron. The missile thudded upon something on the floor, skidded and crashed into the wall.

“Got him!” cried Mrs. Parkes.“Now then, Alice, come down from that table and stop behaving like a young gal wanting to be kissed.”

The cook moved forward, and Bony, with the company behind him, also moved forward after Mrs. Parkes, who came to a halt, glaring triumphantly down upon the mangled body of an enormous rat.

Miss Jade assumed command.

“Mrs. Parkes,” she exclaimed, “whatare you doing?”

Mrs. Parkes turned, and the motion of her body was not unlike that of a crane swinging a load from ship to wharf.

“I’m notdoin ’ nothing, marm-at the moment,” she said. “I have just killed a rat what must have come in through the scullery door what must have been left open by George when he went out a minute ago.”

Running feet sounded on the floorboards of the scullery, and George rushed into the kitchen, followed by Bisker. The steward’s face was dead white and his eyes were big. Bisker’s moustache and eyebrows appeared to be standing straight out. Mrs. Parkes crossed to the girl on the table whose eyes were still shut and whose mouth was still open and about to utter another shriek. Bony, who had turned slightly, was able to observe the reactions of all the others.

The brown moustache and beard of Raymond Leslie seemed to lie flat beneath his bulging eyes. The squatter was the least affected. Sleeman’s eyes were winking rapidly, and Downes was standing utterly still, and upon his face was no expression. His eyes were fixed in a wide stare, and his arms were bent, with the fingers of both hands extended like the legs of crabs. When Miss Jade again spoke, animation was resumed. She was the first to regain composure.

“Alice, stop that noise!” she commanded.

The girl, however, appeared to be wound up. Mrs. Parkes rolled over the three yards of tiled floor to the girl. She smacked her face-hard. Then she picked the girl off the table as though she were a vase and enfolded her within her arms against her prominent bust, saying:

“Now, now, dearie, hold your tongue. Here’s Miss Jade wanting to know what all the fuss is about. It’s all right! I killed theanimile. There, there, now…”

“George, did you leave the scullery door open?” demanded Miss Jade.

George began to breathe. His eyes blinked.

“No, marm,” he replied. “The door was open when I went out to ask Bisker about the luggage belonging to Mr. Grumman.”

“Bisker, did you leave the scullery door open?” demanded Miss Jade.

Bisker’s moustache twitched. Then his eyebrows twitched, and Bony wanted to laugh, for he wondered what the effect would have been had eyebrows and moustache twitched at the same moment. Like the others, he was experiencing reaction following those terrible screams.

Bisker said that he did not recall having left open the outer scullery door, and he stood like a wilted toadstool beneath Miss Jade’s withering condemnation of him, condemnation which Bony considered unjustified, as others in addition to Bisker doubtless passed in and out through that particular door. It was Mr. Sleeman who offered a suggestion which gained Bony’s approval.

“Well, all’s well that end’s well,” he broke in, the several drinks already presented to him on George’s tray that evening having mellowed him. “Miss Jade! I seek your favour. Will you be so kind as to permit me to call upon George to bring us all a dose of nerve-steadier? Our nerves have been subjected to great strain, and a little bracing fluid would restore them to normal.” Miss Jade’s anger was melting. “In view of the circumstances,” went on Mr. Sleeman, “I’d like to suggest that George wait upon all of us here that we might do honour to Mrs. Parkes. It was the most beautiful shot with a flat-iron I have ever witnessed.”

Miss Jade bent her head towards Mr. Sleeman, and George walked forward. He accepted the orders without the aid of a memo pad and departed.

“Dashed good idea of yours, Sleeman,” said Raymond Leslie. “I thought there had been another murder.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” began the girl in the mighty arms of the cook.

“Stop it, Alice, or I’ll belt you one,” Mrs. Parkes said, kindly. “Now, now, a little drop of brandy will settle you. Be quiet and sit down here with me.”

Mr. Sleeman began to relate an anecdote about his wife and a pet mouse released by his son. Mr. Downes patiently listened. Miss Jade began ordering Bisker to fumigate the wood-stack the following morning, for that was where the rat must have come from. Bisker stoutly denied the presence of rats in his wood-stack, but he was talked down. Bony crossed to look at the dead animal which, he saw, was a bush rat large even for that species. Then George came with the drinks, and Mr. Sleeman called for three cheers for Mrs. Parkes. One tiny cheer was given, as it became obvious that this frivolity did not have Miss Jade’s approval. After that, the kitchen party broke up.

In an atmosphere of anticlimax, Bony went back to the lounge for a quarter of an hour, after which he slipped away to the hall and out through the main entrance, ostensibly to take a walk, as the rain had ceased. Bisker was loading his early-momingpipe with “dottles” salvaged from the day’s smoking, when Bony entered his hut.

“The rain will have ruined the impression made by the man’s hand on the earth in the shrub tub,” he told Bisker. “To make a plaster cast now would be useless. Anyway, I have memorised the impression. Want to go to bed?”

“No, not for an hour,” Bisker replied.

“Any whisky left in the bottle?”

“A little drop I’ve been saving for a night-cap.”

“All right! I won’t keep you up long. Er -tell me, when you leave here in the mornings, how do you get into the house?”

Bisker proceeded to load the early-morning pipe with great care, and without looking up from that important task, he answered:

“Before George turns in, he locks the scullery door from the outside and he puts the key under a brick what lies ’andy. Then ’e goes round the house to the front door what he locks for the night. Of a morning, Igets the key from under the brick and goes in by that scullery door to begin the chores.”

“Did you see Miss Jade enter the house by the scullery door last night?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did she use the key left under the brick, d’you know?”

“No, she didn’t. Shemusta had a key of ’erown. I ’eard’erunlock the door, and I ’eard’erlock it again when she was inside. Me, I wassorta froze against the wood-stack. I could’ve swore she saw me, but she couldn’t ’ave.”

“Just what time was that?”

“Well, by me clock ’ere it was two minutes to ’alf-past twelve.”

“Was the house locked up at that time?”

“Oh, yes. There wasn’t a light anywhere. I made sure everyone wasabunk before I got through your winder with the blankets.”

Bony regarded Bisker’s fingers and noted with an inward shudder how the mass of “dottles” was being pressed into the pipe bowl to be smoked first thing in the morning.

“You clean all the boots and shoes, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Bisker.

“Dig into your mind and tell me if you have ever cleaned a pair of boots or shoes size twelve.”

“Size twelve!” repeated Bisker, looking up into Bony’s eyes. “That’s a mighty big boot. I take an eight boot, and you take a seven. Crummy! Size twelve! A bloke with that size in feet must be a very big man or a policeman. I remember cleaning a pair of gent’s shoes size ten-but size twelve! Why Fred, ’e takes a nine, and that’s bigger than the average.”

“Who is Fred?”

“ ’Ewas the bloke what first found Grumman in the ditch. You know, ’e was with me when you came to stand on the bank yestiddy morning.”

“What does he do?”

“Just works about, here and there, cutting wood, digging in gardens. ’E comes ’ere every week to cut the lawn.” Bisker laid aside the early-morning pipe and proceeded to cut chips from his plug for the pipe which had been dangling from his mouth. “Not a bad bloke, Fred. Been a shearer in ’is time. Me and ’im issorta cobbers. When either of us ’as a win, we shares a bottle.”

“A win?”

“Yes. A win on an ’orse. Fred’s pretty good atpickin ’ ’em. And then sometimes I ’as a win from a guest. Sometimes ’alfa quid. On two times I’ve been ’andeda full quid tip.”

“Oh!” Bony rolled and lit a cigarette. Then: “Did George ask you about Grumman’s luggage?”

Bisker brightened. “Yes,” he replied, “I told ’imI never seen any of it shifted by the police. Course it could ’avebeen done without me seeing. I wasn’t outside the main entrance all the time. What’s the strength of that?”

“Nothing very much, Bisker. The subject came up at dinner. One of the guests said that he happened to see into the room occupied by Grumman and saw thatall his luggage had gone, and another guest said the police couldn’t have taken it because he saw all the cars leave. Then Miss Jade said she knew nothing about it. Just a little argument, that was all. When you took Grumman’s cleaned shoes to his bedroom door yesterday morning, about what time was that?”

“About quarter to seven.”

“You saw no light beneath his door?”

“No.”

“There was nothing unusual about Grumman’s bedroom door?”

“Didn’t notice, Mr. Bonaparte.”

“Nothing unusual about his shoes that morning?”

“Theywas a bit wet, I remember.” Bisker’s weathered face expanded into a grin. “Yes, I remember that,” he continued, chuckling. “Theywas the only wet pair that morning for me to clean, the only pair bar one other pair.”

“Indeed!” Bony said encouragingly, as Bisker halted before further explanation.

“Yes, that other pair belonged to the old cat,” Bisker proceeded. “Isays tomeself, Hoh! Hoh! Theblinkin ’ foreign German was out walking in the grass last night, and the old catmusta been outwalkin ’ in the wet grass, too. A bit of love, Isays. Looks like it, didn’t it?”

Bony smiled. “I’m assuming,” he said, “that you are referring to Miss Jade. The evening before last was dry and frosty. I was out for a walk after dinner, but I kept to road and paths. My shoes were not wet.”

“That’s right. Your shoes weren’t wet at all. No one else’s was either, bar them two.”

“Have you ever noticed Miss Jade returning to the house very late at night before last night?”

Bisker shook his head.

“H’m!” murmured Bony.“Interesting. Take particular note of Miss Jade’s shoes tomorrow morning. Note if they are the same shoes that you cleaned this morning.”

“All right. D’youthinkMiss Jade was in at Grumman’s murder?”

“Bisker, don’t be a fool,” Bony said, sharply. “If you are to continue to be an offsider to me, you’ll never ask such a stupid question again, or ask any questions. You’ll just stay silent about everything, and do just what I ask you to do, and when I ask it. Clear?”

Bisker nodded.

“Good!” Bony said briskly. “Now I want you to do a job for me. I suppose you know every room and cupboard in the house?”

“That’s so, Mr. Bonaparte.”

“Well, d’youthink you could draw a plan of the inside of the house, showing every room and cupboard and store-room?”

“Yes, I reckon I could.”

“Excellent. I’ve brought paper and pencils with me. You do it now. Take your time, and if you make a bloomer, begin again. There is plenty of paper.”

Bisker fell to work, his pipe forgotten, the end of the pencils being chewed to splinters one after the other. Bony sat silently watching him. It was raining again, pattering on the iron roof low above their heads.