Better to Eat You (23 page)

“If you are pulling my leg,” the doctor said, “I don't appreciate it. You can't seriously mean that you suspect that old gentleman of murder.”

“I do. Yes, I do seriously suspect him.”

The doctor spread his hands. “That would not be one of the things a doctor could see. I am hardly a criminal psychologist.”

“He's not
younger
than he says? Anything like that?”

The doctor closed his mouth.

“Even if you had seen something, you wouldn't tell me,” said David. “All right. I'm sorry. I'd hoped for some kind of break, some clue.… Something about his past, perhaps?”

“Now what …?”

“A mark?” said David desperately. “Anything? I believe him to be behind the poisoning of a doctor. Dr. Perrott. Don't you doctors stick together? You are willing to take over the patient, not caring what happened to your predecessor?”

“Why would he poison Dr. Perrot?” said Dr. Price skeptically.

“That is what I need to know,” said David. “
Why.
That is what the police want, too. The motive. I think there was something Dr. Perrot could
tell.
Some secret. Perhaps something only a doctor could see.”

“Nothing like that,” the doctor said. “Not a thing. The only mark he has is something anyone could see. That woman, the housekeeper, his granddaughters, I suppose, any nurse he ever had. There is surely no …”

“What mark is this?” David said. “I have never seen a mark.”

“Not visible when he is clothed. Scar caused by a fall on the rocks, they tell me. It couldn't be that, of course. No, there is nothing at all.”

“But there
is
a scar?”

“That, yes.” The doctor nibbled his lips.

“Where is this scar?”

“It can't possibly be a secret,” the doctor said angrily. “It's ten inches long, across his chest.”

David sat down.

The doctor forgot the TV show. He looked at David's face closely. Then he, too, sat down and waited quietly.

“Tweedledum,” said David in a moment, “looks very much like Tweedledee. Isn't that so?”

The doctor had more sense than to answer.

“In fact, there's not a pennyworth of difference between them.” David's fist struck his thigh. “Many people must have seen them on the stage. But theatrical make-up is very heavy on a pair of clowns. And I myself saw the photographs. Now wait … wait …”

The doctor waited.

“Sarah has seen them perform. Sarah was in England. Malvina met her as a child. As a child …
as a child!
” David jumped up. “Consuelo will
know!
Thanks, thanks, thanks.”

“What did I do?” The doctor was softened and full of curiosity.

“You did it! I think so. It was an arrow. An arrow!
She
did it with her little bow and arrow! Or if she didn't, at least she
saw
it! Consuelo was
there.
Now wait a minute. Sarah was there, too. I remember Consuelo saying she might have met the daughter. And if the daughter was there, so was the little girl. The little girl was Sarah. As a child.”

“What do you mean? What are you on to?”

“I mean … Oh no, it's impossible. But if it's so …” David bit the edge of his palm. “If it's so, then Fox is
not Fox.
If he is not Fox, he's got to be Lupino. Why did Lupino want to be Fox? The California land! That's why!”

The doctor said in all good humor, “Steady.”

“Yes, I know, but to go on steadily,” said David slowly, “then Malvina is really his granddaughter. Then Sarah is not. Then
Sarah should have all the money!
” David thumped his palm. “It may seem impossible but it's got to be so.”

The doctor exhaled loudly.

“Let me try this on you.” David turned and now he watched and measured the doctor's reaction. “There's Fox and Lupino, a comedy team, alike as two peas. Now Fox had made investments. Suppose Fox dies in the blitz? And Lupino sneaks out of England, saying he's Fox? And saying it was Lupino that died. Why? Because of the investments. He could do it. He'd know enough for all the necessary faking. He had help. He had his own granddaughter.

“Well, then, what do they do? Why, they hole up far, far away from England and yes … exactly! They invent a heart so conveniently wonky that nobody gets in to see the old man except when he says so. And nobody gets in
at all
who might know Fox and Lupino too well. That's it!
Consuelo couldn't get in.
And that does it, Doctor.”

“You're talking about an impersonation, a fraud to get hold of property?” Dr. Price was following intently.

“I am. I am indeed. And Sarah Shepherd is not only the legitimate heiress to the property but she … Oh Lord, it must be so! She is the one who could expose the fraud.”

“What makes you imagine …?”

“Listen. That scar. It didn't happen on any rocks. Listen, years ago a small child shot an arrow into
Lupino's
breast.”

The doctor said, “I see what you're after.”

“Funny, huh? Both men, scarred breasts. Do you believe that? No, no. It must have been Sarah. At least they are afraid she can somehow spoil it. Maybe she doesn't know that this old man has a scar. She can't know it. Well, there it is. She mustn't know, mustn't remember, mustn't tell. Scare her away. Or, now, she'd better die. May I use your phone?”

“What are you going to do?”

“Calling Maxwell. Sheriff's Deputy. I've got his motive for him.”

“Just a minute, Wakeley. You don't know this Sarah is the child who shot the arrow.”

“No, but I believe it,” David said. “And we can ask her.”

“Look here, you are making a guess. You better go easy.”

But David was getting Maxwell's private number and then calling it. “Maxwell? Wakeley. I've got the motive. Got the whole thing. It's a gigantic fraud. Sarah Shepherd could expose it. So there's your motive.”

“That so?” said Maxwell, unimpressed. “Motive for what? Perrott's death?”

“Now listen, I can expose the poisoner of Dr. Perrott and I can expose this fraud, and I am going to do it. As soon as I pick up a couple of witnesses. If you want to watch me do it, better go up there.”

“Up to the Nest, eh?”

“Right.”

“What's it about?”

“You wouldn't believe me on the phone.”

“Come down to my office.”

“Nope. I need the old man.”

“Why?”

“For evidence,” said David.

“Evidence? What are you driving at?”

“Headlines,” yelled David. “Professor bares criminal plot. You better see the show.”

He hung up and the doctor said, “Will he go up there?”

“Wouldn't you?” said David. “Now I've got to have Sarah, and Consuelo, too. See you later and thanks. Thanks a million.”

“Wakeley, if you're wrong you are going to run into plenty of trouble.”

But David flung out of the doctor's house to Consuelo's car and roared into motion.

The doctor worried his moustache. Then his phone rang. “Yes?” he said. “Who? Fox?… Why yes, I'll be right along.… Certainly,” he said with a good deal of enthusiasm. But when he hung up his eyes were uneasy.

David raced down Consuelo's street. Consuelo's house was silent and empty. No one was there.

David looked at his watch. The time he had taken was long enough. His heart rode in his throat as he drove swiftly to the other side of the Cove and parked on the highway's shoulder. His shadow pulled up behind him. David paid no attention. Consuelo's car stood there. It was empty and silent. No one was in it. No one was even near it.

David started to run on the sand.

He heard screaming.

Chapter 21

Sarah sat alone in the inglenook and did not move, because she did not know what to do or where to go. The Monteeths were whispering in the foyer. Malvina was no doubt whispering to Grandfather in the study. Where David was, she did not know. Perhaps he was whispering to somebody.

She was not afraid. The doctor would come, and the guard from the gate. Malvina had tried to kill her, but Sarah did not think she would be killed. Malvina had tried to torture her with lies, but Sarah resolved to
think.
To believe in reasons and to wait for reasons. But it was very lonely where she was.

When the study door opened she clasped her hands gratefully. It was Grandfather himself who came trotting across the floor and he was quite calm.

He had a glass in his hand, a small heavy glass, and he came briskly to her, all fuss and concern, but he did not seem oppressed or sad. “Now, dearie,” said Grandfather, “now we must hearten you in all this trouble. Where is everyone? Ah …”

“Where is Malvina?”

“Oh, I have scolded Malvina.”

Sarah's heart lifted. She smiled at the dear old man.

“Mrs. Monteeth,” called Grandfather. “Dear ma'am, fetch this child some drinking water.”

Mrs. Monteeth scurried. “Doctor's coming up, sir,” Gust said gruffly.

Grandfather seemed to bristle. His head went back on the neck and stayed, rigid. But he said calmly, “Ah yes. Yes, that is wise. He must see to Sarah, of course. Your coat on, dearie? Why yes, you are cold. You are shivering. Come, you must have this brandy.” He beamed and set the glass down at Sarah's elbow. He touched her cheek. His finger was damp and smelled of soap. “Gust …”

Grandfather trotted and he and Gust were whispering in the foyer.

Sarah picked up the little glass. Now she felt again as if she were sinking under a weight. She was borne down to despair. How futile for Sarah's heart to lift, poor thing. While people whispered and eyes were solicitous upon her and everyone, even Grandfather, was sorry for her. When, although to her best understanding she had never in all her life meant to hurt anyone nor had she tried to hurt herself, yet trouble and tragedy followed her everywhere. Even David nagged them to get her to a psychiatrist. Her best understanding, then, couldn't be much good.
Stop it, Sarah.
You know Malvina is a liar. Remember what you know. Remember what you don't know.
Reason.

But the thought came woefully, What is the reason that they lie to me and about me? Why should that be?

She straightened her back. “Grandfather …”

“Yes. Yes, my poor Sarah.” He came and put his hand on her hair.

“Malvina, David, one of them or both of them … People are lying.”

“Drink the little brandy, dearie. It will do you good.”

“You never lie to me, Grandfather, at least. Tell me what I must do.”

“First you must feel better,” said Grandfather softly. It seemed kind and wise and she lifted the little glass, but someone was screaming and she did not drink any of the brandy. The glass jerked in her hand and, lest it spill on the carpet and on her skirt, she put it down.

Grandfather was bristling. The long scream died. Out on the sea side? Alarmed for the old man, Sarah jumped up. “I will see. I will see. It may be nothing at all. Grandfather, don't think about it. Take the brandy.” Mrs. Monteeth came tottering in and Sarah cried to her to stay with the old man and, released from the paralysis, ran toward the study through which she could get outside.

But Gust Monteeth pounded behind her. He took her shoulders, put her aside and brushed by. The study was empty. Gust rushed on through and out of the door to the cliffside. Sarah herself was as far as that door when a strange man took her shoulders and he, too, set her aside and went by, saying, “Stay where you are, Miss. Don't get in the way.”

He was the guard from the gate whom Moon had summoned, for Moon was behind him. Moon, too, brushed by.

Sarah peered out the open door, her fingers tense on the wood of its frame. She could hear shouting, men's voices calling and answering. But she could not see over the edge anything but the ocean, spreading endlessly. She stepped over the sill.

Yet another pair of hands took Sarah's shoulders. It was the Deputy, Maxwell. Big and angry. “What's going on out here? Where's Wakeley?”

“I don't know.”

“Go sit down some place before you fall down,” he told her brusquely. “Better get back inside.” He was away.

The cliff path, the whole cliffside must be alive with people. Authority had come. Whatever had happened would be dealt with. She heard Maxwell bellow. A voice answered. “Woman … fell …”

There was no woman but Malvina.

Nothing out here for Sarah to do. She remembered how when Edgar and the car had fallen, many people had gone to do what they could. But Sarah had not gone. “Why, I must stay with Grandfather,” she thought, rallying. “At least I can do that as I did before.” So she turned into the house knowing only that Malvina had fallen, and she went back into the big room.

He sat in the inglenook and she thought his small figure looked lonely. She ran to him and knelt to see his brooding face. “Grandfather, are you all right? Oh how could they leave you? Where is everyone?”

“What is it, Sarah? Is it Malvina? What has Malvina done?” He spoke rather angrily.

“Grandfather, I'm afraid Malvina has fallen.”

“How far?” he asked.

But Mrs. Monteeth now came announcing the doctor.

“Oh Doctor,” Sarah rose, “will you please see if my grandfather is all right. This is so bad. This is so terrible for him.”

The doctor looked at her intently. But Fox said, “Malvina has been hurt out on the cliff. They'll need you
there,
Doctor.”

“What? Hurt do you say?”

“Someone was screaming,” Sarah told him. “I think she fell.”

The doctor gave her an odd look. “How do I get out there?”

Mrs. Monteeth said, “I'll show you, Doctor.” They went rapidly toward the excitement.

Sarah sat down on Malvina's stool. The little glass of brandy, still full, rested on the low coffee table. The old man sat on his cushions. The little blonde girl hid her fright and her confusion as best she could. All the violence and exertion, and the life and endeavor, all the hope and struggle seemed to be far away. Only these two remained beside the dead fire, calm and ignorant. An ancient man removed from the action, insulated by the experiences of his years, by the frailty of his body from the trouble, whatever it was. And a girl who saw things happen all around her but was, herself, somehow left in stagnant places. Because she was haunted.