When Last I Died (20 page)

"I don't reckon he knowed. All he said was she was going to hide 'em up till the police 'ad done lookin' for 'em, and then she was going to find 'em some work. Then, when they got jobs, see, they was going to look out for something to suit 'em better."

"And get them into trouble with the police?"

"I don't know. I couldn't say what ideas they got. Racing stables, more like, from what they said. I reckon they was the kind to go straight all right, give 'em a chance, so long as it wasn't too dull."

"Were they obedient boys?"

"Never got into much trouble that I remember. The beaks was a bit surprised they lit out. Didn't think they was the sort, the Warden said."

"He questioned you at the time, I believe, Mr. Lawrence?"

"Oh, he dickered me a bit, but I never let nothing come out. If ever you get in a jam, lady, stick to Don't Know. I've never found nothing to touch it."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Bradley gravely. She had had exasperating evidence from Muriel Turney of the impenetrability of this simplest of defences.

The interview with Larry, however, although very unsatisfactory from the point of view of actual information, had outlined clearly the path she had to follow. Whatever her fears and objections, however tiresomely obstinate she had made up her weak little mind to be, Cousin Tom's relict would have to be browbeaten into acknowledging that she had known of the boys' presence in the haunted house.

Before she could return to Muriel's lodgings, however, a message from Ferdinand informed her that he had precise information from the police that Muriel had 'skipped.' As it was in their own interests to find her in order to produce her as one of the chief witnesses at the trial, they were 'on her track, baying like hounds,' Ferdinand's letter continued.

Mrs. Bradley did not believe that Muriel, whatever her state of mind, would acknowledge complicity in Bella Foxley's crimes by running away, so she sought her straightway in the most likely place—the house which Aunt Flora had left to Eliza Hodge. From there she telephoned to Ferdinand.

"She's in that state," said Miss Hodge, "poor thing, that I don't know what to do, and that's a fact. She says she'll go out of her mind, and, upon my word, madam, I almost believe she will, she's that worried and upset with it all. And no wonder, either, if the half of what she's been telling me is true."

"Look here," said Mrs. Bradley. "I've got to see her. I haven't come to frighten her, but I've got to know what she knows about those boys."

Muriel, however, had locked the bedroom door and was at the window, threatening, in high, hysterical tones, to throw herself out if Mrs. Bradley did not go away at once and stop worrying her.

Mrs. Bradley, standing on the lawn, said clearly :

"Now don't be silly, Mrs. Turney. Come down at once, and tell me what you know. I have just telephoned the police that you are here. Your best chance is to tell me the truth before they arrive. Come, now. Don't waste time."

Whether this appeal or Muriel's own common-sense won the day Mrs. Bradley never knew, but scarcely had she entered the house when Muriel came down the stairs and motioned her to the drawing-room. There, on heavy chairs and surrounded by Aunt Flora's
bric-à-brac,
the two conversed, and gradually Muriel disclosed to Mrs. Bradley the story of the
poltergeist
phenomena, the part played by Piggy and Alec, Bella Foxley's contributions to the hauntings and her share of the proceeds, together with other strange and diverse matters.

Most unfortunately, although Muriel was prepared to admit that she had known that the boys had originated the
poltergeist
tricks, she insisted that she had not known of the terrible death which they had suffered. From this assertion she could not be moved, and Mrs. Bradley had to accept it, although she could not believe that it was the truth.

"You see, as I told you, poor Tom got his living with the séances and all that," Muriel said, "and Bella often put us on to the houses. Of course, we had the usual troubles. The Society for Psychical Research used to try to check up on Tom, but he wasn't having any, and he said he didn't mind if they called him a fraud, even in print, because the people who were any good to him were not the kind to read the Journal of the Society.

"Well, about a month before Aunt Flora died, Bella wrote to us, and said she was fed up with the Institution and if she didn't get away from it for a bit she'd die. She said she had had all the sick leave she was entitled to, so either she'd have to go sick without pay, or else she'd have to resign, but she couldn't stand the life any longer.

"Well, she said she'd find us another haunted house, and a good one, if we would agree to take it on and have her live there with us for a bit until she found something she liked better.

"It sounded queer, coming from her, and I asked Tom what he thought she'd got up her sleeve. He said he didn't know, but that it was her own business and that he didn't mind if she came, so long as she didn't stay too long. He said he had done all he could with Hazy, because you had to have more helpers to get the results any better, and, besides, we had been there so long that the landlord wanted to put up the rent, and Tom said it wasn't worth that, because the house was a bit too much off the beaten track to keep on attracting people when they could go to séances in London. And the flat, of course, had entirely petered out.

"So I wrote off to Bella and told her she could do as she liked, and she wrote back and said she had found just the house and knew just the way to work it for us.

"Now she'd never suggested helping us in that way before, and Tom didn't know what to make of it, quite, and neither did I. Tom said that what he could make would keep two of us, but certainly not three, especially as Bella's helpers would expect to be paid. He wrote off and said that he didn't want extra help, and that amateurs would only mess things up. Bella wrote back and said that the helpers she meant wouldn't mess things up, and wouldn't want anything except their food and somewhere to sleep. She didn't say who she meant, but Tom soon guessed she meant two of those dreadful boys.

"Well, he was dead against it, right from the first. He said he wouldn't be able to depend upon boys like that, and he said that, anyway, as soon as they got fed up they'd sling their hook— that was his expression—and then he would be left with a lot of disappointed clients who were not getting their money's worth.

"Well, Bella didn't argue. She just turned up with the boys. That was late in January——"

"Yes. That was on January 24th," thought Mrs. Bradley, "if the dates in the diary are to be trusted." She did not speak, however, and Muriel, after frowningly trying to recollect the date for herself, announced that she thought it was somewhere round the twentieth, and continued :

"She came along with them about supper-time, and locked them up in one of the bedrooms, and said she must get back quickly to the Institution in case she was missed. I ought to say that we were in the haunted house by this time. Tom had rented it for a month 'to test its possibilities,' he told Bella."

"So you were in the haunted house before the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth of January," thought Mrs. Bradley; but, afraid of startling this shy song-bird into silence again, she made no remark.

"I didn't like it," Muriel resumed. "I knew what dreadful boys they had at the Institution, and I didn't know what they might get up to, away from all the discipline and that. Tom didn't seem to mind. He took them up some supper, and locked the door again, and I must say they behaved quite quiet and orderly, I was quite surprised and pleased; not that I ever got fond of them, mind you, and right to the end I was afraid of what they might do if they took it into their heads.

"Well, then 'came the news about Aunt Flora. That must have been the next day, I rather fancy. Anyway, Bella sent us the telegram, saying she'd already been sent for by old Eliza Hodge, as the doctor didn't think poor old Aunt was likely to last.

"Tom didn't see any point in going at first. He said we'd never had much to do with Aunt, and that she'd only think we'd gone there to see what we could get. Anyway, I persuaded him—poor Tom!—and then, of course, Aunt began to get better, and then Bella killed her."

"Bella or your husband or you," thought Mrs. Bradley. Aloud she said, "And what were the boys doing while all of you were staying at Aunt Flora's house?"

"I don't know, I'm sure."

"Oh, yes, you do, Mrs. Turney. They were in the cellar, weren't they?"

"I don't know where they were," repeated Muriel. "I didn't know anything about the cellar then. I asked Tom what had happened to them, and he said not to worry; they were quite all right where they were, and had plenty to eat."

"And had plenty to eat," thought Mrs. Bradley, nodding soberly. "And Aunt Flora had had too much to eat, and was dead." Again she said none of this aloud.

"Bella went back to the Institution for a day or two, but not for long. Then she joined us at the haunted house, and Tom began his séances," Muriel continued. "Well, of course, they were ever so successful, as you know. The boys were really wonderful, I will say that for them. They cottoned on ever so quickly to what was wanted, and thought up all sorts of extra things for themselves. Quite got the spirit of it, Tom said, and he and Bella were getting on like a house on fire, which usually they didn't really do, Bella being sharp and impatient in her manner on account of her work, and being a spinster, I always thought, but never said so, of course, being the last to want to make trouble.

"Well, the cellar was Bella's idea. It seemed she had read up about it before we took on the house, and before even we got there she had had the wooden cover off the well. Of course, she didn't usually put it back, because of the boys getting up and down that way to be able to do their stuff when the spiritualists came, and get away again safely without being seen.

"Well, the next part is all, like, about my fancies, and you needn't believe it unless you like, but, after a bit, the house got on my nerves. Of course, you can say it was really the boys I was scared of, and, in a way, I think it was. You see, when Tom kept saying to Bella at the first that this game was all very well, but where were we going to be when the boys got fed up and left us, she turned round on him one day and said the boys would leave when
she
was ready, and not a minute before. She said she'd got the tabs on them all right, because if they didn't do what she said she'd only got to give them up to the police and they'd be taken back to the Institution straight away, and well they knew it.

"Well, things went on all right for quite a bit after that, and then I began to get those fancies."

"What fancies?" asked Mrs. Bradley gently, to end a lengthy pause.

"Well, you'll no doubt think me very silly, just like Tom and Bella did," confessed Muriel, "but, the fact is, I began to feel that there was something
really
funny about the house; not just the boys and their tricks. You see, up to then, I'd always believed that Tom was an honest investigator—lucky, but honest—and that my help wasn't to help him go in for tricking people, but to help with genuine what-do-you-call it——"

"Phenomena?"

"Manifestations; that was Tom's word for them. But this
poltergeist
business with the boys was different. It was just simply hoodwinking the people, and I'd always felt the spirits were kind of sacred, and that I'd been kind of initiated into the great mystery of it all when I married Tom and my right hand went luminous, and I was in a trance and told people things, and all that. And it sort of came to me that if we weren't careful, playing about with all this
poltergeist
stuff, we might offend
something queer,
and be very sorry for it. It seemed to me I heard whispers and footsteps nothing to do with the boys, and once I thought I heard a kind of a horrible laugh just at my elbow when I knew the boys were up in the attic cupboard being told by Bella and Tom what the next stunt was to be.

"Well, I got thoroughly nervy and run-down, and in the end I said I should leave the house; I couldn't stand it. Rather to my surprise, Bella and Tom made no objection, except Bella said that it was a bit of a nuisance, because she'd have to come, too. She said it wouldn't look right for her to stay alone with Tom, even though they were cousins. I begged Tom to send away the boys, but he said he couldn't do that, and he wouldn't join us at the inn because he said we couldn't leave the boys alone in the house because they might escape. When he did come to see us, he locked them up in the attic cupboard, where he didn't think they could come to any harm. He didn't think they could get out of it, either, but, of course, they did...."

She paused and shivered.

"Of course they did. And they thrust your husband out of the bedroom window when he returned from a visit to the inn," said Mrs. Bradley.

"How did you know that? I've never told anybody that!"

"It was fairly obvious. Bella, of course, knowing the boys so much better than your husband did, was afraid that something of the sort would happen. She went along to see whether Mr. Turney was all right. It was when she discovered that he was going to use the incident to lay a charge against her of attempting to murder him because he had evidence against her for the murder of Aunt Flora that she realized it would be safer for her if he were out of the way. It would be easy enough, she thought, to accuse the boys of the murder. What I can't understand, and what I should like you to explain, if you can, are these points:—"

Muriel shied like a startled horse at the sight of Mrs. Bradley's little notebook.

"I don't suppose I can tell you anything at all," she said wildly. "And I don't know at all why she wanted to kill poor Tom and those poor boys. All I know is ..."

"Now, listen, Mrs. Turney," said Mrs. Bradley. "First, I can't understand why, with the death certificate duly signed by the doctor, she was afraid of anything which your husband might have to say about the cause of Aunt Flora's death. After all, even an exhumation of the body couldn't have proved the doctor wrong. It was Bella Foxley's word against that of your husband."