Murder of a Lady (22 page)

“Yes?” the doctor asked.

“Oonagh swore that nothing had happened. She swore that her love for me had not wavered. I had the feeling that she was pleading for her life. I wasn't convinced. But the first gust of my rage had passed. I began to tremble. The tension of my nerves gave way suddenly and I broke down. She told me that she didn't care whether we were rich or poor. She said she was able to work and ready to work and that between us we would make enough to keep Hamish. I don't know why, but when she spoke in that way my troubles seemed to get less. I began to believe her.”

His voice faded away. Dr. Hailey waited for a few moments and then said:

“It was your statement that you would rob or kill your aunt sooner than borrow from McDonald which made your wife fear that you had murdered her?”

“I suppose so. That, and my attack on herself. I believe I was mad for a few minutes.”

“She was ready to die for you?”

Dr. Hailey's voice was low but his tones thrilled with admiration. Eoghan raised his head sharply.

“God knows,” he cried, “I never was worthy of Oonagh. I never will be worthy of her.”

Eoghan drove McDonald home. When they left the house Dr. Hailey went out to the place where Barley had been killed. The fear, which had oppressed him indoors, lost its power as soon as he crossed the threshold. He stood listening to the voices of night, softly-moving winds, the gurgle of the burn and, louder than these, the fall of waves on the shingle. He walked to the spot where Barley had fallen. His lamp revealed nothing. The tide was ebbing but remained high, so that the mouth of the burn resembled a tiny harbour. He descended the steep slope to the water's edge, and stood there for a few minutes. Then he climbed the bank again. It was obvious that, at the moment of his death, Barley had been concerned about the murder of Dundas, whose bedroom was immediately above the spot where he had been standing. The doctor wondered what doubt or question had sent the poor man on this fatal errand. If Barley really believed that McDonald had killed Dundas, why should he trouble about the ground under Dundas's window?

He returned to the house and went upstairs to his bedroom. The more he thought about it, the stranger this last act of Barley's seemed. The only possible explanation seemed to be that the detective had begun to doubt his theory that McDonald had killed Dundas; but if so, why had he arrested McDonald? Barley was an honest man and as such would certainly have delayed making an arrest so long as any substantial doubt remained in his mind. But he was a practical man who would not have gone out of his way except for a reason. It seemed certain therefore that a reason why he should examine the ground under Dundas's window must have occurred to his mind or been forced upon his mind after he had effected the arrest of McDonald. The doctor frowned. How could any such reason have arisen at the time? He mastered his fears and walked along the corridor to Dundas's bedroom. Barley's body lay on the bed, under a sheet. He removed this and searched the dead man's pockets. He found nothing except a diary, in which notes of the progress of the case had been made from time to time. The last of these notes consisted of a summing-up of the evidence against McDonald and Mrs. Gregor. He replaced the book and went downstairs. Eoghan had just returned and was in the smoke-room pouring out a whisky-and-soda. The young man looked relieved when he saw the doctor.

“I heard you coming downstairs,” he exclaimed, in tones which betrayed the anxiety that sound had occasioned him. He added: “When I was outside I felt all right. This house seems to have become different.”

He offered Dr. Hailey a drink and poured it out.

“People can say what they like about whisky,” he declared, “but there are times when it's the most sobering drink in the world.”

He lit his pipe and carried his glass to an arm-chair. He sat down and put the glass on the floor beside him. The doctor told him about his difficulty in accounting for Barley's last excursion.

“Can you think of any reason,” he asked, “why he should suddenly have developed a fresh interest in Dundas's murder?”

“No.”

“You saw him arrest McDonald. Did it strike you that he had any doubts about the justice of what he was doing?”

“What, after the lecture he had given us? 'Pon my soul, doctor, he made out a strong case, a terrible case.”

“Exactly. And then, apparently, hurried off to test its merits. It seems absurd on the face of it.”

“Possibly he had some other reason for going…”

“Yes, but what other reason? Barley was a man who knew how to economize his efforts. I feel absolutely certain that it was no trivial cause that sent him along that steep bank at that moment.”

Eoghan shook his head. Among so many mysteries, this one, he seemed to think, was too small to deserve notice.

“I'm sorry for Barley,” he declared, “but the big fact about his death, so far as I'm concerned, is its effect on Oonagh. When I heard that last summing-up I thought…” His voice broke; he gulped the remains of his whisky. “They'd have been convicted,” he concluded in hurried tones.

Dr. Hailey started slightly. He leaned forward.

“So the reason which sent Barley to Dundas's window was an essential element in their salvation?”

“As it happened, yes.”

“My dear sir, it did happen. How can we say that in this case cause and effect are unrelated?”

Eoghan frowned: “You don't suggest, do you,” he asked, “that McDonald or Oonagh supplied a reason for Barley's going to that place?”

“Of course not. But somebody else, who was interested in them, may have supplied that reason.”

“Who? My father was here, so was I.”

“The murderer perhaps.”

“The murderer?”

“Angus was in the hall when Barley left this room.”

Eoghan drew a sharp breath.

“What! My dear doctor, if I may say so, that's the most absurd suggestion I've ever heard in my life. If you knew Angus you would realize just how absurd it is.”

“Possibly.”

“If Angus murdered Barley, he murdered Dundas and my aunt also. Can you imagine him dropping from my aunt's window, or Dundas's window? How did he get into my aunt's bedroom? How did he get into Dundas's bedroom? How did he kill Barley, seeing that he remained in the hall?”

The questions came sharply, like the rattle of machine-gun fire. Dr. Hailey shook his head.

“No. I can imagine none of these things,” he confessed. “But in a case like this one is driven to ask every possible and impossible question.” He pressed his hand to his brow. “Surely no theory can be dismissed as ridiculous in respect of a series of events each of which is itself ridiculous to the point of utter impossibility.” He helped himself to a pinch of snuff. “And so I return to Angus. He is the only person who can have spoken to Barley after Barley left this room. He is consequently the only person who can have supplied a motive for that sudden, and in the circumstances, amazing visit to the bank under Dundas's window…”

Dr. Hailey broke off. Footsteps were approaching the door.

Chapter XXXIII

The Swimmer

There was a knock at the door; Eoghan jumped up and opened it. Dr. Hailey saw Angus standing with a lighted candle in his hand which shook so that the flame danced. The man's face had a sickly green complexion. Behind him, half-hidden among shadows, were two women in hats and coats.

“You'll forgive us, sir,” Angus said in a shaky voice, “but we cannot sleep in this house.”

He came a little way into the room as he spoke and the women also advanced. The women's faces were tear-stained and one of them, the younger, was whimpering.

“Why not?”

“Because, sir, we cannot.”

“That's no reason, Angus.”

The old man glanced behind him suddenly as if he expected to be stabbed in the back. His mouth opened.

“It's down in the burn, sir,” he ejaculated wildly.

“What?”

“It's down in the burn, sir.”

“Down in the burn? What's down in the burn?”

Again the piper glanced behind him. He tried to speak but his voice failed.

Eoghan drew himself up.

“Pull yourself together man and don't talk nonsense,” he ordered.

Fear gave the old man courage of a sort. He faced his master.

“I heard It myself, sir, splashing in the burn this night before Mr. Barley was killed,” he declared. “And Mary, she heard It too. And she heard It when Mr. Dundas was killed…”

“Rubbish.”

“It is not rubbish, sir. To-night, after Mr. Barley was killed, Mary saw It swimming away from the mouth of the burn to the loch. And she called Flora and Flora saw It too, a black head It had, like the head of a seal, and It was swimming slowly…”

Angus began to shake. The candle he was holding swayed in its socket and fell to the floor. Eoghan snatched the candlestick out of his hand and made him sit down. He gave him a stiff glass of whisky. Then he turned to the women, who seemed to find his energy reassuring:

“What is he talking about, Mary?”

“It's the truth, sir, he's been telling you,” the elder of the two girls declared. “I saw It with my own eyes, swimming out of the burn's mouth and I heard the splashing It made when It came up out of the water and went back to it…I called to Flora ‘Oh, look, look,' I cried to her, and she jumped out of her bed and came to the window and there It was swimming away.”

“What was?” Eoghan cried irritably.

“The thing that is covered with fish's scales…”

“Good gracious, girl, are you crazy?”

“I saw It, sir, and Flora saw It. It was black, like a seal, till It came to the place where the moon was shining on the water. And then we saw the scales on Its head shining like the body of a fish.” Her voice fell. “You know, sir, that there was fish's scales…”

She broke off, overwhelmed by fresh fears. Eoghan turned to her sister.

“Well?” he asked.

“Yes, it's true, sir. I saw It as Angus and Mary has told you. Its head was shining like the body of a fish…”

“Are you trying to tell me that a fish climbed up to my aunt's bedroom?” Eoghan exclaimed in mocking tones.

“Oh, no, sir.”

“That's what you're saying.”

“Oh, no, sir.”

“What are you saying, then?”

The girl gathered her courage. “The Evil One,” she declared in shaking tones, “can take any form he wishes to take.”

“Oh, so it was the Devil you saw?”

There was no answer. The young man glanced at Angus:

“What do you mean by saying that you can't stay in this house?” he demanded sternly.

“There is something wrong with this house, sir.”

Fear and whisky had combined to excite the old Highlander. He rose to his feet; his eyes, lately so dim, began to flash.

“God is my witness,” he cried in solemn tones. “It was into that very water that your mother threw herself.”

He stopped, suddenly afraid. Dr. Hailey saw the blood rush into Eoghan's cheeks and then ebb out of them again suddenly.

“Angus, what are you saying?”

There was no answer. Both the women drew back.

“What are you saying, Angus?”

Eoghan's pale face expressed a degree of emotional tension which brought Dr. Hailey to his side.

“I shouldn't trouble…”

The young man interrupted with a quick, peremptory gesture. He took a step towards his father's servant.

“You said my mother threw herself into the burn?” he cried. “Is that true?”

Angus had recovered from the first shock of his boldness; he was still in close enough touch with the emotions which had driven him to the room and enough under the influence of the whisky he had drunk to be unwilling to recede.

“It's the truth, Mister Eoghan,” he declared. He thrust out his hands. “It was these hands which helped to carry her back to this house.”

“You are saying that my mother drowned herself?”

The piper bowed his head.

“Well?”

“Yes, Mister Eoghan.”

A queer, wild light shone in the young man's eyes. But his features remained stiffened in immobility.

“And now you think that this…this thing which splashes and kills…is come to avenge her?”

Angus's excitement was abating. He stood gazing at his master with sorrowful eyes, already remorseful because of the pain he had inflicted. Eoghan turned to the doctor.

“Do you know anything of this?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You too. Everybody except me.” He addressed the servants. “Go where you like,” he cried. “I've no wish to keep you here. In this house. I've no wish to keep you in this house.” He waved his hand, dismissing them. “Why should you suffer in this house for other men's crimes?”

He sank into a chair. Dr. Hailey approached him.

“May I take them into another room and ask them some questions?”

“No. Ask your questions here. Let me, as well as everybody else, be informed this time.”

Eoghan's tones rang out full of bitterness and derision. He gripped the arms of his chair with fingers the joints of which blanched. His lips moved up and down on his strong teeth. Dr. Hailey signed to the servants to sit down and sat down himself. He turned to the girl Mary.

“You say you heard a splash on the night when Inspector Dundas was murdered?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. But I didn't think at the time what it might be. There were fishing-smacks lying off the burn that night, sir.”

The doctor nodded.

“I know. And your brother was on one of these smacks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your brother came here to report what he had seen that night. He didn't mention hearing any splash.”

“No, sir. Please, sir, it wasn't till to-night that I thought anything about the splash.” She fumbled with the buttons on her coat. “There's often splashes when the fishing is going on,” she added. “If my brother heard the splash, he would think it was made by somebody on one of the other boats throwing something overboard.”

“I see.”

“It was not a very loud splash.”

“Where were you when you heard it?”

“I was going to bed, the same as I was when I heard the first splash to-night. Flora was sleeping.”

Dr. Hailey leaned forward eagerly:

“You heard two splashes to-night?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Loud splashes?”

“They were not very loud, sir.”

He adjusted his eyeglass.

“Why should you have troubled about them to-night when you didn't trouble before?”

“Because there were no smacks fishing to-night. I thought it was very strange that I should be hearing a splash when there was nobody to make it.”

She glanced over her shoulder as she spoke.

“Did you hear anything between the splashes?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you see anything?”

“No, sir.”

He leaned forward again:

“Tell me exactly what you saw after the second splash.”

“I have told you sir. There was something swimming out of the mouth of the burn. It had a head like a seal, that looked black till the moon shone on it. Then I saw that it was shining like the body of a fish.”

She repeated the words mechanically but her voice shook.

“It was then you called your sister?”

‘‘Yes, sir. ‘What is it?' she said to me. ‘I don't know what it is, Flora,' I said, ‘but it's what I heard splashing in the water and maybe it's what I heard splashing when Mr. Dundas was murdered.' When I was speaking we heard voices below the window and somebody said ‘He's dead' and Flora caught hold of my arm and began to cry. We went down to the kitchen and there was Angus sitting in a chair as white as death. I told him what we had heard and he said, ‘Mr. Barley's been murdered, too, I heard the splashes when I was standing in the hall!'”

The girl shook her head when she finished speaking, and then again glanced behind her. She added:

“Angus was crying and saying…”

“Never mind that.” Dr. Hailey's voice was stern. “How long did you watch the thing you saw swimming?”

“Until we heard the voices.”

“So you didn't see where it went to?”

“No, sir, we did not.”

The doctor turned to Angus.

“You were standing in the hall when you heard the first splash?” he asked in sharp tones.

“Yes, sir. I was waiting in case Duchlan might require me.”

“Where was Inspector Barley at that moment?”

“He had just gone out of the house. He was standing at the front door, near to the motor-car.”

“Do you think he heard it too?”

“Yes, sir, I think he did, because he walked towards the burn.”

“You saw that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you hear anything after that, before you heard the second splash?”

Angus's face stiffened with new fear. He bent forward in his chair.

“I heard a sound, sir,” he whispered, “that I know was the rattle of death.”