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diff --git a/75384-0.txt b/75384-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..273bc44 --- /dev/null +++ b/75384-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10307 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75384 *** + + +The Patient in Room 18 + +by M. G. Eberhart + +Published 1929 by Doubleday, Doran & Company, Inc. + + + +CONTENTS + + 1. An Unpleasant Dinner Party + 2. In Room 18 + 3. Dr. Letheny Does Not Return + 4. A Yellow Slicker and Other Problems + 5. A Lapis Cuff Link + 6. I Make a Discovery—and Regret It + 7. The Disappearing Key and Part of an Inquest + 8. A Gold Sequin + 9. Under the Barberry Bush + 10. A Midnight Visitor + 11. By the Light of a Match + 12. Room 18 Again + 13. The Radium Appears + 14. A Matter of Evidence + 15. Corole Is Moved to Candour + 16. The Red Light Above the Door + 17. O’Leary Tells a Story + 18. O’Leary Revises His Story + + + +To William and Margaret Good + + + +NOTE + +All of the characters in this book, +as well as St. Ann’s Hospital, +are entirely fictitious. + + + +CHAPTER 1 + +An Unpleasant Dinner Party + +St. Ann’s is an old hospital, sprawling in a great heap of +weather-stained red brick and green ivy on the side of Thatcher Hill, +a little east and south of the city of B——. The building, though +remodelled and added on to here and there, still retains the great, +solid walls, the gumwood and walnut woodwork, the large, old-fashioned +rooms, and the general air of magnificence and dignity that +characterized what was known, in the grandiloquent nineties, as the +Thatcher mansion. + +Time has made changes; quantities of windows, low and wide, modern +plumbing, electricity, a telephone to every floor, and added wings +whose brick walls have been carefully weather-stained to match the +original walls are some of them. On the west is the main entrance, an +imposing affair of massive doors and great travertine pillars and +curving driveway. But on the south, at the extreme end of the south +wing, is another and less imposing entrance, a small, semi-circular, +colonial porch and a glass-paned door that leads from the hushed +hospital corridor directly upon a narrow strip of grass and then +shrubbery and apple orchard and willows and thickets of firs. From +this door, too, is a path leading up and around the hill, and, +considerably below and beyond the thickets of trees and brush, winds a +road, dusty and seldom used. + +The south wing is the most recently rebuilt wing of St. Ann’s, and +time was when Room 18 was the brightest and sunniest room of the whole +wing. I say, time was. Room 18 is now cleaned and dusted regularly +twice a week by two student nurses. Occasionally Miss Jones, the +office superintendent, tries to enter a patient in Room 18, but +patients from the city remember too well the newspaper headlines—such +as Room 18 Claims Its Third Victim—and refuse at the first hint of +that significant numeral. Patients from out of town present a no less +serious problem in that, even though they take the room assigned to +them without demur, they invariably demand removal to another room +after only a few hours’ residence in Room 18. Once we tried giving the +whole wing a new set of numbers but it made no difference. Room 18 was +Room 18 and the patients placed there, with one exception, have never +remained past midnight. + +I do not know whether this situation is due to the patients +mysteriously getting wind of Room 18’s history, in spite of the nurses +being forbidden to speak of the unfortunate affair, or to the +undoubtedly sinister aspect the room has managed to acquire. This +latter has puzzled me more than a little. The room has the same +hygienic and utilitarian furniture it always had, the same southeast +corner location, the same outlook of close-encircling orchard and +dense green shrubbery, though, of course, the shades are drawn to a +decorous length, and the same rubberized floor covering. It is true +that the last item may somewhat induce the atmosphere of the repellent +that Eighteen’s very walls seem to exude, because it holds, despite +the efforts of various scrubwomen, a certain darkish stain there at +the foot of the narrow bed. + +It is a fact that five minutes in that too-still room bring chills up +the small of my back, clammy moisture to the palms of my hands, and a +singular and pressing desire to escape. And I have a good stomach, no +nerves, and little imagination. + +And in the long, dark hours of the second watch, between midnight and +early morning, I still avoid the closed, mysterious door of Room 18! + +The night it began, Corole Letheny had a dinner party up at the +doctor’s cottage on the hillside, at the end of the path from the +south door. She telephoned hastily, late in the afternoon, for Maida +Day and me. She was giving the dinner, it appeared, for a young civil +engineer, a friend of Dr. Letheny’s, who had dropped in unexpectedly +on his way from a bridge in Uruguay to another bridge in Russia. +Ordinarily I do not care for Corole’s dinners, which are apt to +acquire an exotic tinge that is distasteful to me, but a travel tale +and an engineer allure me equally and since I did not go on duty that +night until midnight I promised to come. Maida was a little harder to +get, seeming, indeed, to be unusually reluctant, and her voice, as I +heard it, standing beside her at the telephone, was anything but +cordial. + +“Never mind,” I said as she hung up the receiver and Corole’s warm, +husky tones ceased. “Never mind. It may be quite diverting. And this +is cold roast beef night here at St. Ann’s.” + +Maida laughed. + +“Corole’s dinners often are—diverting,” she said rather cruelly. “I +shouldn’t have gone but she really is in a mess. The man just arrived +this afternoon and he is leaving in the morning. Corole knew, too, +that we both had second watch this two weeks and that we could be away +from the hospital until twelve.” + +“I think,” I said reflectively as we strolled from the office, whither +we had been called to the telephone, back along the narrow corridor +that leads to the south wing, “I think I shall wear my silver tissue.” + +Maida nodded, giving me the straight look from her intensely blue eyes +that I had so grown to like in the three years that she had been a +graduate nurse at St. Ann’s. + +“Do so, by all means,” she agreed. “And put your hair up high on your +head.” + +Maida professes to a great admiration for my hair, and I daresay it is +well enough in its way; that is, if you like red hair and plenty of +it. I have never cut it; no woman of my years, especially one with a +high-bridged nose and inclined to embonpoint, freckles, and +ground-grippers, should cut her hair. + +Later, gowned in the silver tissue, and with a dark silk coat over my +finery, for the June night had turned cloudy, I slipped into the south +wing for a last look to be sure that everything was going well. Having +been superintendent of the wing for more years than I care to mention, +I feel a natural sense of responsibility. Dinner I found to be well +over, seven o’clock temperatures taken, the typhoid convalescent in +Eleven a bit less feverish, and the new cast on Six a little more +comfortable. + +Six caught at a fold of my dress admiringly. + +“All dressed up?” he said. He was a nice boy, who had a tubercular hip +bone and had spent the last six months in a cast. + +“Isn’t she fine?” said Maida from the doorway. I saw the boy’s eyes +widen before I turned toward her. + +I had grown accustomed to Maida in her stern white uniform. Now her +black hair and the sword-blue of her eyes and the vivid pink that +flared into her cheeks and lips at the least touch of excitement—all +this, above a wispy, clinging dinner gown of midnight-blue that was +somehow barely frosted in crystal beads, affected me much as it did +the boy. + +“Gee!” he breathed finally. + +Maida laughed a little tremulously; the compliment in his eyes was +pathetically genuine. + +“Don’t be silly, Sonny,” she said, but her blue eyes shone. “How is +the new cast?” + +“Oh—all right,” said Sonny gamely. + +“I’ll come in and tell you about the party when we get back,” promised +Maida (knowing that in the agony of a ten-hour-old cast he would still +be awake). + +“Gee,” said Sonny again, “will you, Miss Day?” + +“Yes,” said Maida with that grave sincerity that was one of her +charms. “Ready, Sarah?” + +I followed Maida from the room and along the corridor south to the end +of the wing. Once through the door and across the small porch we +reached the path that wound through the orchard, over a small bridge, +and across a field of sweet-smelling alfalfa to the Letheny cottage. + +The path is not wide enough for two abreast, so Maida preceded me and +I found myself studying her slim shoulders and gracefully alert +carriage. Maida always seemed to me to be poised on the crest of a +wave; as if she were continually victorious and yet not arrogant. She +is that rare thing, a born nurse. She can deal successfully with the +most difficult hypochondriacs and yet I have seen her in furious, +desperate tears over a case like Sonny’s. It is not my intention to +rhapsodize over Maida. I suppose I admired her because she was so +gloriously what I might have been in my younger days had things been a +little different. Though, of course, I am not and never was the beauty +that Maida was. + +Well, we found Corole waiting for us and the other guests already +having cocktails. Dr. Letheny greeted me as meticulously as if we had +not operated together that very morning. He was a tall man, dark and +thin, with an extraordinarily precise manner, and was almost too +correct as to dress. He lingered a little over taking Maida’s wrap and +said something in a low voice that I did not understand, though Maida +replied briefly and turned away, her slim black eyebrows registering +annoyance. + +Dr. Balman, Dr. Letheny’s assistant, was there; a lanky man of medium +height, with a thin, pale face, a high benevolent forehead, thoughtful +eyes that were usually detached and rather dreamy, and a thin pointed +beard that was awry now, as always, owing to a habit he had of +worrying it with his slender, acid-stained fingers. His scant, light +hair was ruffled and needed to be trimmed, his cravat uneven, and his +dress clothes formal and old-fashioned. + +There was Dr. Fred Hajek, too, pronounced “Hiyek” and referred to +flippantly among the student nurses as “Hijack.” He was the interne +who lived at the hospital, answered the telephone nights, took care of +dressings and emergencies, and generally made himself useful. He was +considerably younger than the other two doctors, though one wouldn’t +have guessed it from his matured, well-built figure. He had a squarish +head, a ruddy face with more than a hint of the foreign in it, a hint +that was augmented by his small, black moustache, and dark eyes whose +somewhat slanted lids looked too small for the eyes and thus gave a +curious impression of tightness and restraint. He had a pleasant +manner, however, and a fresh, vigorous appearance that was not +unattractive. + +Then my eyes were caught by a blond young giant who advanced as Corole +spoke. + +“Jim Gainsay,” she murmured casually over her creamy brown shoulder as +she offered Maida a cocktail. + +He said something or other to me politely but I saw his keen eyes go +to Maida and linger there as if unable to take themselves away, while +I quite deliberately took stock of this tall young fellow with bronzed +hands and face who built bridges here and there over the world and +looked as if he hadn’t more than got out of university. In fact, a +fraternity crest gleamed on the surface of the thin, white-gold +cigarette case that he held open in one hand as if the sight of Maida +had frozen him in the very act of drawing out a cigarette. On closer +observation, however, I was obliged to revise my hasty estimate. There +were wrinkles about his eyes; his sun-tanned eyebrows were a straight, +inscrutable line almost meeting over his nose; his jaw was lean and +rather ruthless; his smooth-fitting Tuxedo disclosed lines that were +muscular, without an ounce of superfluous flesh. Here was a man +accustomed to dealing with other men; yes, and of shaping them to suit +his own ends, or I was no judge of character. + +And just then Huldah, Corole’s one maid, announced dinner somewhat +breathlessly as if she must fly back to the kitchen, and we all took +our places around the long, candle-lit table. + +The soup was bad and the fish poorly seasoned, but the Virginia-baked +ham was delicious and I found myself warming to the soft, wavering +lights, the gleam of silver and glass and flowers, the white and black +contrasts presented by the men setting off Maida’s red-and-white +beauty and Corole’s rather blatant charm. Corole had charm, in spite +of my questionable adjective—charm of a sort rather flagrant and too +warm, but still it was difficult not to fall a little under its sway. +She sat at the foot of the table with Jim Gainsay on one side and Dr. +Hajek on the other. Her hair was arranged in flat, metallic, gold +waves and she wore a strange gown of gold sequins with gleams of green +showing through. It clung smoothly to her and was extremely low in the +back, showing Corole’s brownish skin almost to the waist, and I could +not help speculating on the probable reaction of our board of +directors to such a gown worn by our head doctor’s housekeeper. Corole +was a cousin of Dr. Letheny’s and had kept house for him since the +death of old Madame Letheny. We knew little of her history and I +should have liked to know more, though I am not inquisitive. I often +wondered what circumstances produced the brown-skinned, gold-haired +Corole we knew. She was a great deal like a luxuriant Persian cat; she +even had topaz eyes and a peculiarly lazy grace. + +The conversation during the dinner was rather languid. Corole did not +seem much concerned about the dinner, but she was a little abstracted, +though automatically, if one-sidedly, flirting with Jim Gainsay, who +had eyes for no one but Maida. That was very clear to me, though none +of the others seemed to notice it—with the possible exception of Dr. +Letheny, who saw everything through the perpetual cloud of cigarette +smoke that almost obscured his narrow, dark eyes. Dr. Balman was +frankly absorbed in dinner and admitted that he had been interested in +a laboratory experiment and had not eaten during the day. + +“But you left it to come to my dinner,” smiled Corole. + +“Oh, no,” said Dr. Balman flatly, without looking up from his salad. +“I had finished anyhow.” + +“Oh,” said Corole, and Dr. Letheny’s thin mouth curved the least bit. + +“So you have been bridge-building in Uruguay?” I addressed Jim +Gainsay. He turned his keen eyes steadily toward me. + +“Yes.” + +“I suppose Uruguay is now prosperous, European, and civilized?” I went +on, hoping to get him started telling of some of the adventures that +must have befallen him. I have an explorer’s instincts and +stay-at-home habits, so have to get my travels by proxy. + +“Yes. Though the remoter portions are still, in some respects, the +Banda Oriental.” + +“The Banda Oriental?” said Corole blankly. + +“The Purple Land that England lost,” said Maida softly, and Gainsay’s +eyes met hers with quick interest—interest and something more. + +Corole’s eyelids flickered. + +“Serve coffee in the Doctor’s study, Huldah,” she said. “And open the +windows.” + +The night had turned unbelievably sultry while we sat at the table, so +hot that the very breath of the tapers seemed unbearable and we all +felt relieved, I think, to leave the table and dispose ourselves +comfortably in the great, cushioned chairs and divans in Dr. Letheny’s +study. The one lamp on the table was enough, though it left the room +for the most part in shadow—rather uncanny green shadow, for the lamp +was shaded with green silk and fringe. The windows had been flung to +the top but there was not a breeze stirring, even here on the windward +side of the hill, and it was so quiet that we could hear the katydids +and crickets down in the orchard, and the faint strains of radio music +from the open windows of the hospital, whose lights gleamed dully +through the trees. + +“Radio in a hospital?” queried Jim Gainsay amusedly. + +“Lord, yes!” Dr. Letheny’s voice was edgy. “You have been out of the +world a long time, Jim, not to know that a fashionable hospital must +have all the latest fancies, including the best radio set to be had, +with specially made loud-speakers connecting with it in every room. +The money that is wasted,” he added bitterly, “on such notions could +be employed to a good deal better advantage in other ways. How can +we make much headway in research if all our money must be thrown +away on—on lawns and flowers—” he waved impatiently toward the +hospital—“on expensive apparatus that we seldom if ever use, on +eight-thousand-dollar ambulances, on weather-staining bricks, on——” + +“On radios,” suggested Gainsay blandly. + +Dr. Letheny smiled faintly but the hand that lit a fresh cigarette +seemed a little unsteady. + +“On radios,” he agreed. + +“You are right though, Dr. Letheny.” Dr. Balman, who had apparently +been engaged in digesting his dinner, spoke so suddenly that I jumped. +He lounged toward the window and stood with his hands in his pockets +looking down at St. Ann’s lights. + +“You are right,” he repeated. “If I had one-half the money that is +thrown away down there the experiment that failed for me this +afternoon might have succeeded.” The bitterness in his voice was so +grim that I think we all felt a little startled and uncomfortable. +All, that is, except Corole, whose feelings are not easily accessible +and who was manipulating the coffee machine over by the lamp. Its +light brought the flat, gold waves of her hair into relief. + +“Here is the coffee,” she said huskily. “As coffee should be: black as +night, hot as hell, and sweet as love.” She offered the tiny cup to +Gainsay. + +Well, the rest of us had heard her say that before and Gainsay did not +appear to hear her now. I could see that she was hesitating on the +verge of repetition, but she was too wise for that. + +“Can’t you stop needless expenditure?” asked Gainsay. + +“Stop it?” Dr. Letheny laughed acidly. “Stop it when the hospital is +privately endowed and the board of directors a bunch of ignorant, +conceited asses! Look at this matter of radium. Nothing must do but +that we buy a whole gram of radium. They had heard of radium. Other +hospitals had it. Radium we must have and radium we bought. But try to +talk to them of research, of discovering a new remedy for an old need, +of the necessity for laboratories, for equipment, for study. You might +as well try to stop the thunder storm that is coming as to ask them to +see anything that is not squarely in front of their fat stomachs.” + +“But radium,” said Gainsay mildly, “is a good thing for a hospital to +have, isn’t it? I thought it a great discovery.” + +“Of course, of course!” broke in Dr. Balman. “But we don’t need that +much. Half a gram, a fourth of it—even a sixth of it would have served +our purpose. But no! We must spend sixty-five thousand dollars for one +tiny gram of radium. Sixty-five thousand dollars! And to my plea for +half of that—only half of that money—they laughed. Laughed at study! +At research! At laboratories and equipment! And called me a visionary. +God! A visionary!” + +It must have been that the increasing sultriness of the night and the +tension of the approaching storm made us all a little nervous and +easily stirred. A curious hush followed Franz Balman’s outbreak, +during which I became aware of the heavy breathing of Dr. Hajek near +me. I stirred impatiently and moved away. I had never either liked or +disliked Fred Hajek, but that night I felt suddenly a sharp distaste +for him. The atmosphere in the room seemed unbearably heavy and I +shivered a little despite the heat and wondered if my dinner was not +going to agree with me. + +Gainsay got up, moved to get an ash tray, and sat down again in +another chair. I noted that the move brought him nearer Maida, whose +fine white profile was visible in the shadow near the window. She did +not smoke—not, I believe, from any fastidious prejudice, but merely +from distaste—and her hands, delicate yet strong, lay passively on the +carved arms of the chair. She was the kind of person whose silences +seem thoughtful and neither flat nor detached; a most companionable +person to have around. + +Corole noted the move, too, for she took my seat next to Hajek and +murmured something under her breath to him. + +“Are you both experimenting in the same field?” asked Gainsay, his +ordinary, easy tone making my disquiet seem uncalled-for and silly. + +“No,” said Dr. Letheny shortly. + +“No,” said Dr. Balman. He turned abruptly away from the window and sat +down at the shadowy end of the davenport; his shirt front thrust +itself up in an ungainly hump but he did not appear to care. + +“Well,” said Corole, “if I were a millionaire I should give you both +the money to work to your heart’s content.” + +“Indeed.” Dr. Letheny spoke so satirically that I feared an outburst +from our hostess, whose temper was never of the best. + +But she surprised me. + +“No!” she retracted with disarming frankness. From habit Corole could +lie like a trooper, but when she was inclined toward truth-telling she +was quite candidly honest. “No,” she went on, “if I had a million +dollars I should spend it—oh, _how_ I should spend it! Silks and furs +and jewels and servants and cars and cities and——” + +“By that time it would be gone,” observed Dr. Letheny drily. + +“Maybe,” Corole laughed huskily. “But how gloriously gone.” + +“I suppose,” began Fred Hajek, with a little of the awkwardness that +assails one who has remained silent a long time while others of the +group are talking, “I suppose that idea is a sort of unacknowledged +fairy dream hidden in everyone’s mind.” + +“Of course.” Dr. Letheny’s voice grated to my ears. “Everybody wants +money. Usually for reasons such as Corole has so charmingly admitted.” + +“Not always,” disagreed Gainsay. “You and—er—Dr. Balman have just +agreed that you both needed it for research.” + +“A selfish reason, though,” replied Dr. Letheny. “We get the same +pleasurable reaction out of study and science that Corole does out of +clothes and jewels and—cream in general. Miss Keate, over there,” he +nodded toward me, “gets the same kick out of hard work and a +smooth-running hospital routine. Only her—demands——are not so +expensive.” + +His tone irritated me. It may be true that I am considered something +of a martinet, especially among the student nurses, but somebody has +to see to things. + +“Nonsense,” I spoke sharply. “I want money just as much as anybody.” + +I suppose my words rang sincere, for Dr. Letheny sat up. + +“What is your repressed desire, Sarah Keate?” he demanded with just +the shade of amusement in his voice that always riled me. “Come on, +out with it! Do you long for the gay night life? Or have you secret +urges to become a front-page sensation?” + +And I must say that, in the light of what was to occur, it was +remarkable that he said just that. + +“She might make a splendid aviatrix,” said Jim Gainsay, smiling into +the dusk. + +After that I was not going to tell them that above all things I longed +to travel and that everybody knows travel costs money. I said curtly: + +“Everybody wants money.” + +“How about you, Maida?” broke in Corole rather maliciously. + +Maida is, as a rule, almost too perfect at the art of concealing her +emotions. It may have been that the semi-darkness of the room +concealed an intended air of frivolousness, or it may have been that +the threat of the approaching storm plucked at her nerves and pierced +her habitual armour of reserve. At any rate her answer was unexpected. + +“Money!” she said. “Money! I think I would give my very soul for +money!” + +Of course, I knew she didn’t mean that. But Dr. Letheny shot her a +glance that fairly pierced the dusk, Corole laughed a little metallic +ripple, and Jim Gainsay turned straightway around in his chair to face +Maida’s shadowed eyes. + +“I haven’t any money,” he said directly and quite as if Maida had +asked him a question, though I think the others were too preoccupied +to observe this. “I haven’t any money at all.” + +“And are you happy without it, Jim?” asked Corole, her warm voice +caressing. + +“Well . . .” Jim Gainsay paused. “I was, until lately.” + +He was still speaking to Maida. I believe Dr. Letheny understood that +somewhat singular fact, also, for he spoke so quietly that there was a +suggestion of deliberate restraint about his words. + +“And what do you intend to do in the face of this sudden realization?” + +“Make some money,” replied Jim Gainsay simply. + +Dr. Letheny laughed—not pleasantly. + +“But my dear fellow, is it so simple as that?” + +“It should not be difficult.” Gainsay did not appear to be disturbed +by the perceptible edge of irony in Dr. Letheny’s questions. + +“Owing to the fact that several billions of people over the face of +the earth are engaged in profitless efforts in that direction, will +you tell us just how you propose to accomplish it with such +expedition?” + +“Certainly not. If I can manage to lay my hands on—say—fifty thousand +I can make—oh, as much money as I want. I can do it. And I will.” He +was grave and yet quite casual. A mere matter of information for +Maida. If she wanted money he would see that she got it and that was +that! It seemed so clear to me that I felt something very like +embarrassment, though neither Maida nor Jim Gainsay seemed disturbed. + +“Fifty thousand dollars,” mused Dr. Letheny softly. “That is quite a +lot of money. Many a man has failed for its—inaccessibility.” + +“I’ll get it all right,” said Jim Gainsay. + +“And when you get it what are you going to do with it? How are you +going to make it grow into as much money as you want?” + +“Contracting.” There was an undercurrent in the short reply that +warned Dr. Letheny off. + +Corole laughed again. + +“Funny!” she said. “Every single one of us has confessed to a fervent +desire for money. That is, all but Franz and Dr. Hajek. And we all +know that Franz would give his very eyes—no, he needs them for +experiment—ten years of his life, then, for money to carry on those +same precious experiments.” + +“It is a good thing we are all law-abiding citizens,” I remarked +drily. + +“I think I shall be on the safe side, though, and lock up my jewels +to-night!” said Corole. + +“Don’t be a fool,” observed Dr. Letheny. + +Corole’s topaz eyes caught a glint of angry green light. + +“Why, really, Louis, being what one can’t help is better, at any rate, +than longing for what one can’t get.” + +Her somewhat stupid reply did not, to my mind, warrant its effect. Dr. +Letheny moved suddenly upright in his chair, his thin lips drawn tight +over his teeth. + +“Until later, dear cousin.” The words had a sharp edge of fury. “Until +later. We have guests at present.” + +I could only suppose that the stifling atmosphere had disturbed Dr. +Letheny’s always hair-trigger nerves. Otherwise he had not been so +needlessly vulgar. He was a brilliant man with a cutting tongue, but +gossip had whispered that what Corole lacked in the way of brains she +more than made up for in feline cunning of attack. This was the first +time, however, that I had heard the two ill-assorted housemates come +to open and bad-mannered warfare. + +Dr. Hajek relieved the strained silence that naturally followed the +little contretemps. + +“I hear that you used the radium to-day.” He had a peculiarly +inflectionless manner of speech that made him seem heavy and dull. + +“Yes.” Dr. Letheny rose and pulled the curtain still farther from the +window. “Torrid night, isn’t it? Yes, we are trying it for old Mr. +Jackson.” He paused. “I don’t know that it will do any good,” he added +callously. “But we may as well try it. By the way, Miss Keate, I shall +be in shortly after midnight to see how the patient is getting on. You +might leave the south door unlocked for me. Let me see—he is in Room +18, isn’t he?” + +“Yes, Doctor.” + +“So you are going to Russia on another bridge project, Jim?” Dr. +Letheny was again master of himself. + +“What—oh, yes! Yes.” Jim Gainsay started a little as if Dr. Letheny +had recalled him to a forgotten fact. + +“Will it be a long stay?” + +“Why, yes, probably. It should take about two or three years. It will +be an interesting job. The preliminaries are rather sketchy, but it +looks as though there might be some problems involved.” + +He spoke in an oddly detached way, as if he were not much interested +in the subject, and it was not surprising that the conversation +flattened out again. Presently Corole suggested bridge and even made +up a table, but Dr. Balman definitely refused to play and Jim Gainsay, +being engaged in watching Maida’s eyelashes, did not appear to hear +Corole’s suggestion that he make a fourth, so Dr. Letheny made a +reluctant partner for me against Corole and Dr. Hajek. However, we +played only a few desultory hands until Maida and Gainsay drifted over +to the window and fell into a low-voiced conversation, when Dr. +Letheny, who had been darting quick glances in that direction, trumped +my ace, flung down his cards, said it was too rotten hot to play and, +paying no attention to Corole’s protests, went to the piano. + +Dr. Letheny was a discriminative musician of far more than amateur +skill, and the great, jarring, Moscow bells of the C Sharp Minor +Prelude presently surged over the room. I am a practical, +matter-of-fact woman and I have never been able to account for the +strange disquietude that crept over me as I listened. It was the +strangest thing in a strange and unreal evening. The couple at the +window turned and moved closer together. Corole’s flat eyes caught the +light like a cat’s. Dr. Balman stared at nothing from the shadows and +worried his beard. Only Dr. Hajek was unmoved by that passionate sweep +of sound. + +All at once the room was intolerable to me. I twisted about in my +chair and fought down a childish desire to run from its heat and +breathlessness. And then the keys under Dr. Letheny’s white fingers +slipped into the higher notes of the second movement and a hot, fetid +breath of air from the hushed night billowed the curtain a little and +touched my hot face and heightened the nightmare that had taken +possession of me. + +By the time the climax had carried us all along with it in its +torrent, and the Doctor had sat, in the hush that followed the last +note, for a long moment before he turned to us again,—by that time +little beads of perspiration shone all along the backs of my hands and +my heart was pumping as if I had been running a race. + +I rose. + +“I must go,” I said, my voice breaking harshly into the silence. “I +must go. It is nearly twelve.” + +“Yes,” said Maida. “Yes. We must go.” + +Somehow we got away. I remember being vaguely surprised when Jim +Gainsay merely took Maida’s hand for a conventional instant, although +I’m sure I don’t know what I had expected. + +Maida and I walked slowly, feeling our way through the great, black +velvet curtain that was the night. The hospital was now darkened and +the path twisted unexpectedly. The air was as heavy with the presage +of storm, there under the trees, as it had been in Corole’s lamp-lit +house. The sky was thick and black with not the glimmer of a star +showing through. The katydids and crickets were all hushed as if +waiting. The path was hot under our thin-soled slippers, the alfalfa +sickeningly sweet in its warm breath, the shadows of the thickets were +dense and not a leaf stirred. I know that orchard and those clusters +of trees and elderberries and sumac as well as I know the twists and +turns of the old hospital corridors, and never until that night did I +catch my breath when my hand brushed against a leaf, or take a long +sigh of relief when we emerged from those suddenly unfriendly thickets +into the silence of the long, night-lighted corridor of the south +wing. + +Up in the everyday surroundings of the nurses’ dormitory I still +failed to shake off the sense of the unreal that had come over me. +Together we changed into our crisp, white uniforms. I remember we +talked of silly, inconsequential things—such as the sogginess of the +bread pudding we had had for lunch, and the new cuff-links that Maida +was inserting into her cuffs. They were small squares of lapis-lazuli +edged in engraved white gold. Lovely though they were, they yet +contrived to be simple and dignified at the same time. + +“I like lapis,” said Maida without much interest. “I like things that +are real.” She was adjusting her proud, white cap as she spoke. In +spite of the businesslike white linen that became her so well, she was +still the flushed and vivid Maida of the blue and crystal-frosted +dinner gown, whose eyes had grown starry under Jim Gainsay’s regard. I +sighed as I pinned on my own cap. I had always felt that if love came +to Maida it would be swift and compelling. + +I thrust in the pin too forcefully and withdrew my scratched thumb +with an irritated exclamation. I had read somewhere that thin old +maids were pathetic and fat old maids gross and all old maids +sentimental, and had resolved to be none of the three, myself. + +So, I was not in the best of moods as I wound my watch, took my way to +the south wing, and stopped at the desk for a glance at the charts. If +only the storm would break and give us a breath of fresh, cool air. + +The two nurses going off duty were very evidently glad to be relieved. + +“It is a queer night,” said one of them, Olma Flynn. “Makes me feel +creepy.” + +“H’m,” I spoke brusquely. “Likely you have been eating green apples +again.” And she flounced indignantly away. + + + +CHAPTER 2 + +In Room 18 + +That night began much the same as other nights and with no suggestion +of the events it was to unfold. There was the usual twelve-o’clock +stir of drinks and temperatures and pulses and hot pillows to be +turned and electric fans to be brought. The only unusual thing, and +that was natural enough, was that the sick patients had turned +restless under the heat and the breathless hint of storm and were +fretful and somewhat peevish. We were very busy for some time, but I +remembered to leave the south door unlocked for Dr. Letheny’s call. + +It happened that I was in the corridor when he came in about +twelve-thirty. The gleaming white and black of his pearl-studded shirt +front and smooth-fitting dinner jacket were incongruous in the bare, +night-lighted hall, with its long length of white walls, shadowy now +in the darkness that was relieved only by the shaded light over the +chart desk at the far end, and the tiny red signal lights that glowed +here and there over sick-room doors. A hospital is never a cheerful +place, especially at night, and its long, dark corridors with black +voids for doors, and its faint odours of ether and antiseptics and +sickness are not, to say the least, conducive to good spirits. + +Dr. Letheny was still nervous and irritable. He gave Mr. Jackson a +rather cursory glance, felt his pulse for a moment, and examined the +dressing. The trouble he was trying to cure with radium was in the +patient’s left breast and the radium itself, placed as is usual in a +sort of box that is especially made for the purpose, was arranged in +such a manner that its rays would penetrate the afflicted area. It was +held in place by means of wide straps of adhesive, and would have +been, to the layman, a strange-appearing affair. All was well and the +patient seemingly reacting as favourably as might be expected, so Dr. +Letheny did not linger. After rearranging the pillows and turning out +the light over the bed, I followed the Doctor into the corridor. He +paused for a few moments, asking me unimportant questions as to +various patients in the wing, and smoking rapidly, regardless of the +rules which he himself had made against smoking in the hospital. More +than once I caught his gaze travelling past me down the corridor +toward the diet kitchen and drug room, and finally he asked me +outright if Miss Day was on duty. + +“Yes,” I said. “She is about—somewhere in the wing,” thinking, as I +replied, that I had not seen Maida for a few moments. Doubtless, +however, she was busy with some patient, or paying her promised visit +to Sonny. + +He lingered for a little after that, but presently strolled to the +south door and disappeared. I did not follow him and lock the door +according to custom; it was breathlessly hot, as I have said, and we +needed every atom of air that we could get. Later, when the rain came, +I should close it. + +An errand took me to the diet kitchen; as I passed down the length of +the darkened corridor I glanced into the open doors along the way but +did not catch a glimpse of Maida’s white uniform. The place was very +hot and very still and the vases of flowers along the walls, on the +floor outside various doors, sent up a hot, sickening breath. I +snapped on the light in the diet kitchen, wishing as I did so that +there were more lights in the corridor outside. I had to search for +and open a fresh bottle of beef extract, so it took me some time to +prepare the beef tea, but at length I started into the corridor with +the cup in hand. As I reached the door I glanced down the hall toward +the south door just in time to see a white uniform gleam against the +blackness of the night as it entered from the porch outside. It was +Maida, of that I was sure, for her movements were unmistakable, and +just as the thought ran through my mind that she had been outside +trying to get a breath of fresh air, I also realized that I had no +spoon to accompany the beef tea and turned back into the diet kitchen. +Someone had cleaned the silver drawer that day, and it took me a +moment or two to find a spoon, and when I entered the corridor again I +met Maida face to face. + +In the dim light it seemed to me that she was very white, but in that +night-lighted corridor nothing retains its normal colour, so I thought +nothing of it. + +“I was wondering where you had gone to,” I said carelessly as I passed +her. + +She regarded my casual remark as an inquiry. + +“I—I’ve been with Sonny,” she said. Her voice was unsteady. + +“Poor boy, he is having a hard time,” I murmured and went on. It was +not until I was standing beside Eleven watching him drink the beef tea +that I recalled with a little start that she had not been with Sonny, +that I had seen her with my own eyes coming into the corridor from the +porch. + +Beef tea and Eleven did not go well together; in fact, a few moments +after drinking it he was violently sick and for about a quarter of an +hour I was fully occupied with him. I had closed the door into the +corridor at first symptoms of his unhappy reaction, so that the +disturbance should not arouse patients in near-by rooms. I stayed with +him until he was back on his pillows again, quiet and exhausted, then +I turned out the light, opened the door into the corridor, and left +him. The hall was silent and dark and not a signal light gleamed in +the whole length. + +I felt a little ill myself from the heat and stifling air, and judging +it to be a good time, I slipped quietly to the south door and let +myself out onto the little colonial porch. The air was a shade less +fetid there and I remember standing for a moment or two at the curved +railing. The dim light coming from the door back of me made a little +circle on the porch, faintly lighter than the surrounding night, and +beyond that stretched thick blackness. Far below me toward the west +twinkled vaguely the lights of the city and above on the hillside I +caught the barest glimpse of green light through the trees; it was +shining from Dr. Letheny’s study. All else was impenetrable darkness. + +I could not have stood there for more than five minutes when without +any warning an inexplicable thing occurred. + +There was a sudden, sharp little whisper of motion from somewhere back +of me, something flew past my shoulder, caught for a fleeting second +the reflection of a light from the corridor back of me, and was gone +into the dense shadows of the shrubbery, beyond the railing. + +The thing was gone before I could realize that it had actually +happened. + +I started, drew in my breath sharply, and stifled the exclamation that +rose to my lips. I stared in the direction the thing, whatever it was, +had taken and strained my eyes to see into the thick black void that +surrounded the porch. It was exactly as if an arrow, small and sharp +and gleaming, had been shot from somewhere behind me into the +shrubbery. But no one shoots arrows from hospitals in the dead of +night. + +I rubbed my eyes angrily and, but for the sharp little whisper of +sound the thing made as it passed me, would have doubted their +evidence. But that sound, coupled with the flash of light, was +conclusive. Someone had deliberately thrown some small article with +all the force at his command across the porch and into the shrubbery +that extends downward into the orchard. It had come from one of the +windows at either side of the door or from the door itself. Hastily in +my thoughts I ran over the patients then in the wing. Not one of them +was able to walk. Maida was the only person in the wing who could have +been about, and what on earth was Maida throwing out into the night! + +Feeling this to be a curious circumstance that should be investigated +I took a few steps toward the path that leads from the east corner of +the little porch. It was very dark there, and without pausing to +reflect that in the night I could never find the thing that so puzzled +me and that was now hidden somewhere in the orchard, I groped for the +iron railing and made my way cautiously down the two or three steps. I +paused at the path, my ear caught by the sound of footsteps. And at +the very instant, the sudden little rush of sound came closer swiftly +and someone running at top speed along the outside wall of the +hospital collided with me, gasped, swore, caught me in mid-air and set +me on my feet again and was gone, leaving me trying to get my breath +and dazedly righting my cap. I could hear his footsteps still running +along the little path toward the bridge. + +“Well——” I said. “Well——” and found myself both angry and frightened. +People have no right to run around hospitals at night, knocking +middle-aged nurses about and swearing and what not. Who was this +midnight prowler? + +Evidently the man was up to no good purpose and as evidently he was in +a hurry to get away. My heart began to beat rapidly as I walked along +the hospital north in the direction the man had come from. But the +windows above me all seemed dark and undisturbed. Built on the slope +of the hill as St. Ann’s is, the windows are at varying heights from +the ground, some of them not more than three or four feet above it, +but I doubted if an intruder could have made his way into that silent +wing without arousing it. I walked as far as the lighted window of the +diet kitchen. It, too, was open and I could see the top of Maida’s +white cap as she stood at the farther end of the small room. + +All seemed quiet and I dismissed the half-formed notion of rousing +Higgins, the janitor and so-called night-watchman, and demanding a +thorough search of the premises. I was still uneasy, however, as I +retraced my steps, and I drew back into the shadow of the orchard in +order to see into the windows of the wing without, possibly, myself +being seen. + +It was just as I passed the thick clump of elderberry bushes about +midway of the long wing that my foot struck something in the grass +that gave a dully metallic sound. I reached over to fumble in the +grass and picked up a small, flat object, smooth and hard. I turned it +rapidly over in my hands. It was pitchy dark there in the shadows and +the air was extraordinarily close. I slipped the object I held into my +pocket for future examination and as I did so I sniffed. There was +something in the air—some familiar odour—but something entirely out of +place in an apple orchard. It was—a swift vision of the operating room +rose before me and I realized that my nostrils had caught a faint but +unmistakable odour of ether. + +Ether in an apple orchard! And in the middle of the night! Why, it was +impossible! Something in the heated air, some mingling of alfalfa and +sweet clover and growing things had combined to deceive me. I +shrugged, tried to laugh, and feeling all at once that absurd fear +that something is about to clutch at your heels, I hurried through the +dense shadows toward the little porch. It was still deserted. + +I recall glancing up at the impenetrable sky and catching, away off +toward the south, a faint gleam of lightning. Surely the storm would +break soon and I would be relieved of this feeling of oppression that +was strangely mingled with something very like fear. + +The corridor, too, was still deserted. Maida was not in sight, and as +I looked a red signal light down toward the chart desk clicked. I went +to answer it, my starched skirts whispering along the hushed hall. + +It was Three, begging for a bromide, and it took me a few moments to +convince her of the fact that she didn’t in the least need it. + +Then I sat down at the desk, which is at the north end of the +corridor, opposite the south door, with all the shadowy length of +gray-white walls and dark doors of the corridor intervening. A shaded +light over this desk is the sole illumination and a person seated at +the desk faces the chart rack and has her back turned to the corridor. +It remained hot and very still and I wondered if the wind that +accompanies our western thunder storms would not soon rise. + +I had not more than entered Three’s pulse and the time—one-thirty—when +a sudden sound, dull and heavy, brought me standing, facing the +corridor and unaccountably startled. Only the bare walls met my eyes. +Perhaps the south door had blown shut. It had sounded like the muffled +bang of a door—or possibly like a window that had dropped to the sill. +The chart in my hand, I walked quickly through the corridor to the +south door. It was still open and I felt no breeze. + +As near as I could tell the sound that had aroused me had come from +this end of the wing. The door of Room 17 was open and a glance +assured me that the window was still open for I could see the dim +shadow of the sash. The door of Eighteen was closed, however, so I +opened it cautiously in order not to wake Mr. Jackson. I did not enter +the room; I stood there only for a moment, holding the door half open +and peering through the dim light from the corridor. The patient was +lying quiet and the window seemed to be open, so I closed the door as +gently as I had opened it and took my way down the corridor again. + +And when I reached the chart desk I found that my knees were trembling +and there was a little damp beading under my cap. + +“It is the night,” I assured myself. “It is a nerve-racking night. I +shall suffocate if I don’t get some air.” + +But nevertheless I felt nervous and ill at ease. I forced myself to +study the charts, and in the middle of Eleven’s temperature chart I +recalled the small flat object I had found in the orchard. I was in +the very act of drawing it from my pocket when, with a swoop of wind +through the corridor, a blinding flash of lightning and a crash of +thunder, the storm broke. + +I ran the whole length of the corridor. The wind was sweeping along it +with such fury that my skirts were pulled back tight around me, my cap +slipped back on my head, and several top-heavy vases of flowers must +have blown over for we found them so later. With some difficulty I +closed the door. As I fastened it, leaving the key in the lock in my +haste, I could see through the panes of glass the first great spatters +of rain, and down below the hospital on the little back road shone the +lights of a hurrying automobile. Then they were gone and another flash +of lightning nearly blinded me and there was a sharp crackle and +sputter. Simultaneously the light went out as if by black magic, +leaving me alone in the dark with eighteen windows to get down and +eighteen patients to reassure. + +I knew in an instant what had occurred; the power line from the city +had been struck and the fuses burnt out or some such matter. Where was +Maida? The rain was coming in torrents by the time I had felt my way +into Room 17 and closed the window. Occasional lightning aided me as I +groped my way to Room 18, crossed it and pulled down that window. As I +turned toward the door again a bright flash of lightning lit up the +whole room and in the brief second I saw that the patient had not +roused in spite of the tumult of the storm. He lay still. Too still. + +Then the light was gone and, scarcely knowing what I did, I reached +the bed and put my hand on his face and sought his pulse. + +A seasoned nurse knows when death has come. Even in the gibbering +darkness with the storm outside crashing against the window I knew at +once that our patient was dead. + +Standing there for what seemed an eternity, but what was actually not +more than a moment or two, my mind raced over the situation and strove +to comprehend it. There was no reason for his death of which I knew. +Barring the affliction for which he was being treated and which in its +present stage had not been critical, our patient had been in good +health only an hour or so ago. What had caused this? It could not have +been heart failure for his heart had been sound. + +I must have a light. I must call Dr. Letheny. I must—— There was the +sound of windows being lowered. I found my way to the door. If I could +make Maida hear me—but, of course, I couldn’t through the confusion of +patients calling out from fright as they found the lights failing to +go on, and the constant roll of thunder and crashing of rain. The +flashes of lightning were frequent and I caught a fleeting glimpse of +Maida crossing the corridor farther down the hall. + +It would be of no use to call her; furthermore, she was busy. I +disliked leaving Eighteen with no one in the room, but I must have a +light. I ran down the length of the corridor—it seemed long and +unfamiliar—groped in a drawer of the cupboard in the diet kitchen, +found the burnt end of a candle and some matches, and flew back to +Room 18. At the door I met Maida. Our faces gleamed eerily in the +lightning and then vanished into darkness. + +“Isn’t this awful!” she cried. “Where were you! Every window in the +wing was open. And the lights have gone out! What—what in the world +are you doing?” + +She was at my elbow in Room 18. My fingers shook so that I could +scarcely light the candle, and when I did succeed it made only a +feeble little flicker that did not dispel the shadows. + +She followed me to the bed. + +“Why, Sarah! Is he——” She reached over to place her hand on his face +as I had done. “_He is dead!_” + +Setting the candle on the table, I pushed aside the covers to find his +heart. If there were the least flicker of life, something could yet be +done. But there was not. + +It was as I drew back that I made the astounding discovery. + +The box that held the radium was gone! Adhesive and all had been +stripped clean! + +“Look——” I tried to cry out but a roll of thunder that shook the very +foundations drowned my voice. I pointed with a finger that shook and +held the futile little flame nearer, while Maida searched frantically +among the sheets. + +It was a useless search. That I knew even in the moment of lowering my +candle to look under the bed. The dead man had not torn from himself +that box with the wide strips of adhesive. + +Arising from my knees I stared across the narrow bed into Maida’s +panic-stricken eyes. + +The very storm outside quieted for a second as if to give my words +significance. + +“He is dead,” I whispered. “And the radium is gone!” + +She nodded, her hands at her throat, her face as white as her cap. + +The tiny flame wavered and jumped and threatened to go out, the +shadows in the room crept nearer, the gusts of wind and rain beat upon +the black window pane with renewed fervour. + +“We must telephone to Dr. Letheny. Then get lights and see to the +wing. Will you go down to the office and telephone to the Doctor? I +shall stay—with this.” + +Maida’s eyes widened and she flung out her hands with an odd gesture +of panic. + +“No,” she stammered. “No. I—I _can’t_ call Dr. Letheny!” + +Not knowing what to say I stared at her. Suddenly she straightened her +shoulders and mastered her agitation. + +“Yes,” she said. “Yes. I’ll call him immediately.” + +I was too disturbed to worry over Maida’s aversion to telephoning to +Dr. Letheny, although it was to recur to me later. I set the candle +down again, wishing that the lights would come on and that my knees +would not shake. + +It was clear to me, even in those first terrifying moments, that the +radium had been stolen. And a hideous conjecture was slowly settling +upon me. It did not seem possible that my patient had died a natural +death! + +What had caused his death? + +It is strange how one’s hair prickles at the roots when one is +frightened. My hair stirred and I peered fearfully about the room. A +curious sense of something evil and loathsome near at hand was +creeping over me. The room, however, was as bare as any hospital room. +I even took the candle in my hand, and holding my teeth tight together +to restrain a disposition toward chattering, I made a circuit of the +room, holding the candle into the corners. Of course, there was +nothing there. Indeed, there was scarcely any place to hide in the +whole room. There were the usual shallow closets, two of them, barely +large enough for a patient’s travelling bag and clothes. I opened one +closet which held a bag and a light overcoat. The other one was locked +and the key gone, probably lost by some student nurse. + +The candle was dripping hot wax on my hand so I placed it again on a +saucer on the table. + +Maida had been gone for some time, surely time enough to rouse the +whole hospital staff. A thousand fears crossed my mind while I stood +there waiting; my eyes kept travelling from one corner of the room to +the other, and the feeling of a presence near me other than that of +the dead man on the bed became stronger with the dragging seconds. + +I was beginning to think that I could remain no longer in that +fear-haunted room, with only the ghastly flickering of the +candle-light for company, when there was a quick rush of footsteps and +Maida was in the room, panting, her eyes black and frightened. + +“Dr. Letheny is out,” she cried. “Corole didn’t know where he was. She +said he wasn’t anywhere in the house. She thought he had gone for a +walk in the orchard and got caught in the storm.” + +“A fine time to go for a walk,” I cried, fright making me irritable. + +“So then I telephoned to Dr. Balman,” went on Maida hurriedly. “It was +so dark I couldn’t see the directory, so I had to ask Information for +the number. He finally answered and said he would be right out. It’s +as dark as a black cat all over the building.” + +“Did you call Dr. Hajek?” + +“Yes. That is, I knocked at his door and called him several times but +couldn’t wake him. Girls from other wings are running around in the +dark, there near the general office. Nobody has lights and the bell +that connects with the basement is out of order. At least, they can’t +rouse Higgins.” + +I thought rapidly. Such a situation! No lights, a storm, frightened +patients—it only needed the news of the radium theft and this strange +death to complete our demoralization. + +“We can’t both leave this room,” I thought aloud. “We must not leave +him alone. His death is so strange—so——” + +Maida must have been struck with something in my manner for she +gripped my arm. + +“What do you mean?” + +“I mean,” I replied with difficulty, speaking through oddly stiff +lips, “I mean that—I’m afraid this is—is murder.” + +She shrank back, her face as white as the dishevelled sheets. + +“Not—that!” + +“You see, he was in good condition. And combined with the theft of the +radium—Oh! I know it is a fearful thing to suspect. But what +explanation is there?” + +“Who could have done it? How——” + +“I don’t know.” With an effort I pulled myself together, forced myself +to think. “We have no time to think of that now. We must keep things +going—get a doctor.” I paused, eyeing her dubiously. “Could you stay +here with—with it—while I go to the office, rouse Dr. Hajek and the +janitor, and get some sort of lights?” + +She glanced from the bed, where her horrified eyes had fastened +themselves, to the feeble ray of the candle. + +“The candle is almost burnt out,” she whispered. + +“I know,” I said. “I’ll hurry.” + +Her lips tightened to a thin white line. + +“Hurry.” + +Once groping my way through that dark corridor I was vaguely surprised +to find my hands like ice and my face damp. My mind was whirling but +one thought was predominant: I must not leave Maida alone for long in +that terrifying room with what it held, I must hurry. + +As I turned into the corridor running east and west, that connects the +south wing with the main portion of the hospital, the storm burst upon +the place with renewed savagery. At another time the fury of the +thunder and lightning and wind and rain would have appalled me, but +then it seemed all in a piece with what I feared had happened. + +I have only a chaotic memory of colliding with various other nurses, +of ringing for the janitor, of calling the Electric Power Company only +to hear a pert-voiced operator tell me that the wires must be down in +our direction, of being afraid that the matches the nurses were +lighting would set fire to the whole place, and of bruising my +knuckles on Dr. Hajek’s door. He finally opened it, and I was so +unstrung by that time that at the sound of his slow voice I clutched +into the darkness with both hands. My touch encountered his coat, +which was damp. + +“Go to Room 18,” I stammered, half-sobbing from fear. “Hurry, Doctor. +Room 18 in the south wing.” + +“It is dark. Can’t you turn on the lights?” he said stupidly. + +“The lights have gone out. The storm—— Hurry!” I believe I pushed him +toward the door. Somebody had found a lamp and the hall was full of +weird, wavering shadows. + +“What is it? What has happened?” asked some nurse at my elbow. + +I have never known what I replied; I remember only her frightened, +pale face. But somehow I restored things to a semblance of order, +mercifully thought of some lamps and candles that were in the +storeroom, unearthed a couple of flashlights and sent someone to wake +Olma Flynn to help out in the south wing. Then, taking the +flashlights, I hurried back to the wing. + +At the door of Room 18 I paused. + +Maida was standing beside a table, staring downward, her face +paper-white; her sleeves had been rolled up and a wisp of dark hair +across her cheek gave her a curiously dishevelled appearance. Dr. +Hajek was standing at the foot of the bed; he was gripping the +foot-rail with such force that the knuckles on his small hands showed +white. Dr. Balman had arrived; he was sitting at the other side of the +bed and I did not see him until I stepped into the room. His +stethoscope dangled from his hands, his gleaming raincoat dripped +moisture steadily on the floor. He, too, was staring downward. + +No one moved as I approached the bed. It was as if some evil spell +held us all staring at the dead man. And through that brooding +silence, broken only by the hurling rain and wind outside, I knew as +well as I shall ever know anything that I was right. That the man +there on the bed had been murdered! + +My throat was very dry. I had to make several efforts and finally +achieved a single word: + +“How—” + +Dr. Balman glanced at me, apparently noting my presence for the first +time. + +“Overdose of morphine,” he said. + +“Morphine!” I was shocked out of the numbness that had enveloped me. +“Morphine. But he was not to have morphine. How do you know?” + +With a laconic gesture he showed me the tiny hypodermic scar on the +patient’s arm. + +“That—and look here—the pupils of his eyes,” Dr. Balman drew the lids +upward gently. “As well as his general condition. You know——” + +I nodded slowly. Morphine! + +It was then that a strange thing happened. We were all staring at the +small wound, else we should not have seen the little pin-prick of red +that crept slowly from it. It was not a drop by any means, it was +barely enough to be visible, but it brought to our minds the old +superstition: a corpse bleeds when its murderer is near. A cold shiver +crept up my back as I looked, and Dr. Balman sprang to his feet with a +hoarse word or two, and Maida cried out, gasping, and started back, +and even phlegmatic Dr. Hajek muttered something under his breath and +drew his hand across his eyes. + +With an effort I controlled myself. This sort of thing would turn us +all into gibbering idiots and there was much to be done. + +“Dr. Balman,” I said, my voice sounding strange to my own ears, “Dr. +Letheny is caught out in the storm somewhere and we have not yet been +able to find him. Mr. Jackson was not to have morphine: it was not +ordered and moreover at twelve-thirty he was all right. He has +evidently been—killed—so that someone could steal the radium. There +will be—confusion. Someone must take charge from now on—and since Dr. +Letheny is gone——” + +“Leave things to us, Miss Keate,” said Dr. Balman at once. “See to +your wing as usual and Dr. Hajek and I will do what is necessary.” + +“Do you intend to call the coroner?” I asked. + +“Certainly. I shall telephone at once. It means police—detectives—all +that, but this is a terrible thing. Steps must be taken immediately. A +delay in such a matter——” + +“Here I am, Miss Keate,” said Olma Flynn from the doorway. “I hurried +to get dressed. What——” her pale eyes travelled past me to the bed. +“Why—why what is it? He is—_dead!_” Her voice rose. I suppose our very +attitudes and gray faces told her the truth, for suddenly she began to +scream. I seized her by the arm none too gently, clapped my other hand +over her mouth and pulled her outside, closing the door behind me. + +But it was too late. Others had heard her screams, and there was no +keeping the thing secret, especially as some prowling nurse heard Dr. +Balman and Dr. Hajek telephoning for the police and the coroner. The +story was over the hospital in ten minutes and only the strictest +measures prevented a panic. Terror-stricken nurses crowding into the +halls and wing, the demands of the sick to whom the excitement seemed +to have communicated itself, flaring, inadequate lamps and candles and +their little flickering circles of light that made frightened faces +whiter and the surrounding gloom blacker, horrified questions that no +one could answer, stark fear in every pair of eyes—all this made it an +hour not soon forgotten. + +Fortunately Maida and I found that our own patients had not suffered +from our enforced absence from duty. It was a difficult matter, +however, to calm some of the more nervous ones and keep the knowledge +of what had happened from reaching their ears. Olma Flynn’s assistance +was of the slightest as she refused to stir three feet from Maida or +me, and her hands shook so that she spilled everything she touched. + +We were very busy and I did not see the coroner and the police when +they arrived and went directly to Room 18. Along about half-past three +I slipped into the diet kitchen and made some very strong coffee which +I shared with Maida and Olma Flynn. We felt a little better after that +though still weak and sick and controlling our fears by sheer strength +of will. + +Somehow the weary gray hours dragged along. Dawn came through still +gusty rain and wind and the cold light crept reluctantly into the sick +rooms. Breakfast was late that morning owing to the cook’s not being +able to find enough candles for adequate lights, but the day nurses +finally came on duty, white and fear-stricken over what the night had +held. + +By that time, however, policemen were all over the place and I must +say that their broad, blue backs gave me a welcome sense of security. +Dr. Letheny had not turned up yet; at least, if he had I had not seen +him. + +The breakfast trays came up at last and Maida, Olma Flynn, and I +washed our hands and faces and descended to the dining room in the +basement. We said little. The candles on the long table flickered; the +rain beat against the small windows; our uniforms were wrinkled and +looked cold; our eyes were hollow and our faces drawn and gray, and +already we were starting nervously at sudden sounds and were beginning +to cast furtive glances over our shoulders as if to be sure there was +nothing there. + +But it was not until I had finished drinking some very black coffee +and playing with my toast that the reason for our strained silence +made itself clear to me. + +Only someone connected with the hospital could have known that the +radium was out of the safe and in use in Room 18. Only a doctor or a +nurse would have known how to administer morphine with a hypodermic +syringe. + +It might be—anyone! It might be one of us! + +The thought threatened that remnant of courage I still maintained. I +rose, pushing back my chair. It scraped along the floor and at the +sound heads jerked in my direction too quickly and someone cried out +nervously. + +I hurried from the room, up the stairs and to my room in the nurses’ +dormitory. I am not ashamed to say that I locked the door. But though +I needed rest I could not sleep. + + + +CHAPTER 3 + +Dr. Letheny Does Not Return + +From sheer fatigue, however, I must have dozed for I awoke at the +sound of a repeated knocking at the door. It was a frightened little +student nurse wanting to know if all training classes and lectures +were to be suspended. + +“Suspended?” I said, the horror of the past night sweeping over me. +“Suspended? I—why, Dr. Letheny will tell you.” + +She blinked. + +“But Dr. Letheny—we—they—nobody knows where Dr. Letheny has gone.” + +“What!” I was fully awake. + +“No, ma’am. They can’t find him anywhere.” Frightened though she was, +she yet appeared to take a naïve relish in being the first to tell me +the news. “They can’t find him at all. Miss Letheny has telephoned +everywhere that he might be and the police are working on it and they +have been asking us all kinds of questions.” + +I reached for a fresh uniform. + +“I’ll come down immediately,” I said. “About the training classes, did +you speak to Dr. Balman?” + +“No. Miss Dotty said to find out if you knew what was to be done.” +Which was like Miss Dotty, she being amiable but not very +clear-thinking. + +“Dr. Balman is Dr. Letheny’s assistant. I have nothing to do with it.” + +The little student nurse rustled away and ten minutes later, refreshed +by a bath and a clean uniform, I followed her. + +I found the main portion of the hospital fairly shuddering with +excitement. To my extreme annoyance it appeared that the moronic +fraction of our nursing staff was beginning to take a melancholy +satisfaction in the tumult and posing freely for the reporters who, +with their flashlight affairs, were swarming over the whole place. I +might say here and now that I soon stopped that and did not mince +matters in so doing, though I could not prevent the headlines that had +already found their way into the city newspapers. + +In the main office Dr. Balman and Dr. Hajek, both looking worn and +haggard, were literally surrounded by our board of directors who, it +seemed, had descended in a body and were determined to hold somebody +responsible for the terrible thing that had occurred. I learned later +that there was some trouble in convincing them that Mr. Jackson’s +death was not due to a mistake on the part of the nurses. Some +policemen were in the room, too, and the chief of police, himself, a +burly fellow who looked habitually as if his darkest suspicions were +about to be verified. + +This expression intensified itself as I entered the room, which, by +the way, was the first indication of a fact that later became all too +painfully evident, namely that I, Sarah Keate, occupied a prominent +place in the list of suspects, for had I not been in the south wing? +Had I not been in a position to administer the morphine that caused +the patient’s death? Had I not been the one to find him? + +One or two of the board had the grace to rise as I entered, but most +of them were too agitated to remember their manners. + +“What is this about Dr. Letheny?” I began. + +“Are you Miss Keate?” asked the chief of police. + +“Yes,” I replied, none too graciously. + +“We were just about to send for you,” he informed me. “Now suppose you +tell us everything you know of this affair. Mind, I say _everything_.” + +I turned to Dr. Balman. + +“Hasn’t Dr. Letheny returned yet?” + +He shook his head slowly. + +“Come, come, Miss Keate,” said the chief. + +“Doesn’t Miss Letheny know where he is?” I insisted anxiously. + +“Apparently not.” It was Dr. Hajek who answered. + +“Will you answer my questions?” demanded the chief loudly. + +“Another time,” I stated impatiently. Didn’t the man see what the +pressing issue was! “When did Miss Letheny see him last?” + +Dr. Hajek shook his head. “She has not seen him since last night about +twelve-thirty.” + +The chief rose. + +“Now, look here! We’ll have no more funny business,” he began to +bluster. + +“Oh, _do_ be still!” I may have spoken somewhat irritably; at any rate +the chief turned purple. “Don’t you see,” I explained reasonably, +“don’t you see that we must find Dr. Letheny? That so much hinges upon +our finding him? Why, so far as we know, _he_ decided to remove the +radium, perhaps he——” I stuck, appalled by the literal truth of my +words. + +The chief was quick to pick me up. + +“So you have already formed your opinion. And quite right, too. It is +very clear that this Letheny fellow has got away with the radium.” The +chief actually began rubbing his hands together and smiling. “Now, +Miss Keate, just tell us why you suspect Dr. Letheny of this crime.” + +“But I don’t!” I cried in exasperation. “I have not had time to +suspect anyone yet. I have been too busy. The reason I spoke as I did +of Dr. Letheny is that he is the attendant physician; he knew more of +Mr. Jackson’s condition than any of us. He may have decided that the +radium was—er—not doing any good and may have removed it for that +reason. It seems to me that our hands are tied without him.” + +“Just a moment, chief,” remarked one of the most intelligent members +of the board. “Suppose we follow your suggestion and leave all +investigation until this man—what is his name?” + +“Lance O’Leary,” supplied the chief sulkily. + +“Until this Lance O’Leary gets here. You seem to have great confidence +in him and——” + +“Him and me always work together,” interpolated the chief. + +“He is out of town at present,” went on the board member, addressing +me. + +“Suits me,” said the chief. “I’ve wired him and he will be here on the +afternoon train. We’ve got everything under guard and can leave the +room just as we found it.” + +“Then there is no need for us to stay any longer,” remarked a +particularly well-fed board member, getting fussily to his feet and +kicking a little to shake down his trousers over his fat calves. “I’ve +got to get to the office. And now see here, Dr. Balman—and you +others—of course we don’t say that this is your fault——” + +“Well, I should hope not!” I interrupted tartly. + +“Your fault,” he repeated, eyeing me severely. “But at the same time +it shouldn’t have happened. There is something wrong somewhere. Here +we go and put sixty-five thousand dollars into a whole gram of radium +and now look what happens!” The other members shook their fat cheeks +in sympathy. + +“You seem to forget,” I remarked with some asperity, “that there was +also a murder in the hospital last night, which might have been +prevented had we had an emergency gas line installed. We were without +lights a good share of the night.” + +This was not quite true, in that the murder had been committed, I had +no doubt, before the lights had gone out, but the subject of gas for +emergency use had been a matter of contention between the board and +the staff for some time and I was glad to note that the entire board +looked distinctly uneasy as it filed fatly from the office. + +“A splendid group of gentlemen,” commented the chief approvingly. + +“Then we are to do nothing until this detective arrives?” I asked +impatiently. + +“So it seems,” said Dr. Balman, sighing wearily. + +“Yes, and nothing is enough,” said the chief, whose name, by the way, +proved to be Blunt. “Once Lance O’Leary gets his teeth in anything it +is as good as finished. Say—I could tell you things——” + +“If only we could find Dr. Letheny,” I reflected. “It is so strange, +his disappearing like this and at such a time.” + +“Maybe it ain’t so strange as you think,” remarked Chief Blunt. “There +is many a man would like to disappear with about sixty-five thousand +dollars in his pocket. Say, what does that radium look like? How would +you carry it anyhow? Wouldn’t it burn you?” + +“It is carried in a small steel box that is especially made to protect +it—and you,” explained Dr. Balman. As I glanced at him I was struck by +the unbelievably drawn and haggard appearance of his face, which was +intensified by a bruise on one cheek bone that was turning a dark, +purplish green. “It would be a ticklish thing to dispose of,” he added +thoughtfully. + +“Well, we shall have some disclosures in another night,” said the +chief comfortably. “And mark my words, this Letheny has had something +to do with it. A man don’t disappear like this for nothing. In the +meantime we’ll guard Room 18 and keep everybody away from it. And let +nobody leave or come into the hospital.” + +“No visitors?” I inquired, with the first shade of approval I had felt +for the chief so far. + +“No visitors,” he agreed. + +“And in the meantime,” said Dr. Balman, “business as usual. Eh, Miss +Keate?” + +“By all means. But Dr. Balman—you don’t think that Dr. Letheny killed +Mr. Jackson and got away with the radium——” + +“Certainly not,” said Dr. Balman. “There is nothing upon which to base +such a conclusion.” + +“Don’t be too sure of that,” muttered Chief Blunt from the depths of +the telephone transmitter. + +It took a few moments for Dr. Balman and Dr. Hajek to arrange between +them to take over Dr. Letheny’s work in case, we were careful to say, +Dr. Letheny did not come to St. Ann’s that day, while Chief Blunt put +the telephone to such good use that at the end of a few minutes he +assured us that Dr. Letheny would be found within twenty-four hours. +This I thought to be a somewhat sweeping prophecy but said nothing. + +Leaving the office, I walked thoughtfully down to the south wing. It +was a compliment to St. Ann’s routine that, with the exception of a +certain nervousness on the part of the nurses, all was quite as it +should be. Morning baths had been given, breakfasts were all over and +rooms dusted, and discipline in general had been maintained. However, +there is no use saying things were just as usual for they were not. It +was dark and cold that morning, with one of those quick changes of +temperature for which our part of the country is famous. The electric +service had not yet been repaired and there were lamps at intervals +along the corridor. Miss Dotty, wisely for once, had doubled the +number of girls on duty, and blue-striped skirts and white aprons of +training nurses, as well as the severe white of graduate nurses, +glimmered everywhere. + +So far we had been successful in keeping the news of the murder from +the ears of the patients, but of course they were aware of some kind +of disturbance during the night, and several of them were quite fussy +and upset and demanded to be moved to another wing, which naturally we +could not do. We kept the newspapers from them, too, but one of the +minor troubles of the day was the continual telephone calls from +anxious relatives, which began as soon as the morning extras were out. + +Oh, yes, the newspapers got out extras with all kinds of pictures and +the most absurd statements that made St. Ann’s appear to be something +between a boarding school and a den of iniquity. This unfortunate +impression was helped by the pictures of nurses in conjunction with +the murder and radium theft. + +And in spite of our efforts to carry on work the same as usual, in +spite of cleaned rooms and spick-and-span corridors and careful +charts, there lingered, somehow, pervading the very old walls of St. +Ann’s, a certain gloom, a sense of foreboding, that centred in the +south wing. + +Room 18 was closed and guarded by a stalwart policeman, who sat +uncompromisingly in front of the door, but that end of the corridor +was shunned as if there were live smallpox there, and when one of the +nurses had to go to Room 17, opposite, or to the next room, Sixteen, +she quite frankly sought the company of another nurse. + +Old Mr. Jackson’s lawyer had been notified immediately of the tragedy, +I learned, and he, in turn, had notified the dead man’s only +relatives, a cousin and a nephew, living somewhere in the East. Along +in the middle of the morning a rather impersonal telegram came from +them to Chief Blunt, bidding him spare no expense and keep them +informed of developments. + +What with one thing and another I had very little time of my own until +about two o’clock in the afternoon when, after firmly getting rid of +Miss Dotty, who evidenced a distressing disposition to cling and +whisper in horrified italics, I sat down at the south-wing chart desk, +drew a blank chart toward me, and presenting as forbidding a back +against interruption as I could, I tried to think. Until that moment +the whirl of events had so caught me that I had had to act and had had +literally no time in which to consider the matter. + +I began, logically enough, at twelve-thirty, the time I had last seen +Dr. Letheny. In spite of my defence of Dr. Letheny before Chief Blunt, +I felt in my heart that his absence at such a time was, to say the +least, rather strange. + +It had been a queer night, even before its shocking development; that +strange dinner at Corole’s, where everyone had seemed strung to such a +singular pitch of excitement, our walk home through the suffocating +heat, Maida’s preoccupation, my own disquiet, the storm—— And now a +memory recurred to me with such force that I almost jumped—that man +with whom I had collided there at the corner of the porch! Who was he? +What had he been doing? + +And then, of course, I recalled the flat, smooth object I had found at +the edge of the orchard, there below the kitchen window. + +It took only a moment or two to hurry to my room and dive my hand into +the pocket of my soiled uniform. Then I sank down on the edge of the +bed, staring at the thing in my hand. + +I recognized it at once. + +It was Jim Gainsay’s cigarette case. + +The engraved fraternity shield winked at me as I turned it over in my +hands and snapped it open; inside were two or three cigarettes; +dazedly I noted the brand—Belwood’s. Jim Gainsay! It was he, then, +whom I had met there at the steps of the porch. What had he been +doing? What had been his business about St. Ann’s after midnight? And +my breath caught and my heart began to pound as I recalled his words +of the previous night: “If I can manage to lay my hands on fifty +thousand dollars . . . can make as much money as I want . . . I can do +it . . . _and I will_.” + +And he had heard our discussion of the radium. He had even heard—yes, +I remembered distinctly—he had even heard in what room the radium was +in use and that the south door was to be left unlocked. To be sure, I +might have been expected to lock the door following Dr. Letheny’s +visit, but there were windows and—— + +Someone was knocking at the door and I had barely time to slip the +cigarette case under the pillow. It was Miss Dotty, her eyes fairly +popping with excitement. + +“Where is the key to the closet in the south wing?” + +“What closet? There are several——” + +“I mean the closet in Room 18, of course. Do you have the key?” + +“No. And I don’t know where it is. Who wants it?” + +“They want it downstairs.” + +“They?” + +“That little, slim detective. He has just come. And oh, Miss Keate, he +is so handsome,” she rolled her rather vacant eyes upward. + +“Who is handsome?” I spoke somewhat snappishly. Miss Dotty’s +rhapsodies aggravate me. + +“That Mr. O’Leary. Just wait till you see him. Such a way of speaking! +Such clothes! And his eyes are simply wonderful!” Miss Dotty appeared +to recall herself from Mr. O’Leary’s charms with difficulty. “But I +must hurry. They said if we couldn’t find the key they would have to +take the door off the hinges.” + +“Take the hinges off, you mean. Indeed they shan’t! That lovely +gumwood door! They’ll be sure to scar it. Maybe some of the student +nurses locked it. Ask them. Or—wait! I’ll come down myself.” + +But Miss Dotty’s starched skirts were already scuttling away. + +Before leaving the room, and not without a guilty feeling in my heart, +I placed the cigarette case in a safe hiding place which was nothing +more nor less than the bottom of my laundry bag. Almost without +conscious volition on my part I had resolved to keep the matter of the +cigarette case a secret and in my own possession, at least until I +knew more certainly where my duty lay concerning it. It carried with +it too grave an implication to act upon readily. + +Then, still preoccupied, I took my way downstairs, through the main +portion of St. Ann’s, past the general office, and turned into the +corridor leading to the south wing. As I approached the chart desk, +one of the student nurses seized upon me tearfully with a tale of +Three’s hysterics, and wouldn’t I help for she had not the least idea +what to do. There was nothing for it but to go to her assistance, much +as I was interested in the proceedings in Room 18. And it was a good +thing for me that I did! Otherwise I should have been in the room when +they opened the closet door. + +Three’s hysterics proved to be of an unusually stubborn kind, really +virulent in fact, and though I was aware of a sort of subdued +confusion and tremor of excitement outside the door I could not +clearly understand what it was about. I heard faintly the sound of +hammering, of feet running along the corridor, of a man’s voice +calling out something indistinguishable, and a hastily hushed, woman’s +scream which Three promptly and wilfully echoed. Then several people +hurried through the hall, and as they passed the door I heard the +unmistakable little metallic rattle of the wheels of the +stretcher-truck, and caught the words—“Call Dr. Balman,” and something +about an ambulance. + +This was too much for me and I left my patient as soon as possible. No +one was to be seen in the corridor, however, so I walked hurriedly +down toward Room 18. Just as I reached it a policeman opened it, saw +me, slid hastily through the narrow aperture and, closing the door, +stood squarely before it. + +“You can’t go in there, miss,” he said firmly. + +“But—what has happened? What is all the commotion about?” + +“You can’t go in there,” he repeated stupidly. To my surprise I saw +that the man was actually frightened. His eyes were staring, his +weather-beaten face a sort of yellow-green, and his breath coming in +gasps. “You can’t go in there. You can’t——” + +He seemed capable only of keeping me out of the room, so without +wasting time or effort I turned about and retraced my steps. As I +passed the linen-closet door I saw a group of nurses inside. One of +them was lying back in a chair in a dead faint and the others were +clustered around talking excitedly in low voices and nearly drowning +the recumbent one with cold water. + +“What on earth?” I exclaimed and at my voice they turned; one of them +was frankly sobbing and the other two were white as ghosts. + +“Oh, Miss K-K——” began one, her teeth chattering so she could not +speak, while the others just stood there with their mouths opening and +closing like so many fish. Naturally it was very trying and I believe +I shook her till her teeth chattered in good earnest. + +“Now tell me what has happened,” I said, releasing her shoulders. + +“Oh, Miss Keate, the most terrible thing has——” + +“Is this Miss Keate?” interrupted a clear voice from the doorway. + +I whirled. + +A man stood in the doorway; at the moment I was conscious only of a +pair of extraordinarily lucid gray eyes; later I noted that he was +slender and not very tall, that his gray business suit was well +tailored, his gray socks of heavy silk and with a small scarlet +thread, his scarf neatly knotted and chosen with care, his face +clean-shaven, with clear rather delicately cut features, and that he +wore an air of well-groomed prosperity. I knew at once that this was +Lance O’Leary. + +“I am Miss Keate,” I replied. + +“I am Lance O’Leary,” he said (superfluously, but he did not know +that). “I should like to talk to you if you have time. Will you come +to the office with me, please—I think we shall be undisturbed there.” + +Being a woman of some strength of mind, I had intended to take a firm +line with this detective whom everyone seemed to think so remarkable, +but I found myself walking as meekly as any lamb at his side, and once +inside the general office with the door closed, I sat as resignedly in +a chair opposite him as if there were not a thousand and one things +that I should be doing. + +“You are the superintendent of the south wing?” He spoke very quietly +and with what I found later to be a wholly deceptive air of +detachment. + +“Yes.” + +“You were on duty last night between twelve and six o’clock?” + +“Yes.” + +“Miss Maida Day was your assistant?” + +“Yes.” + +“Dr. Balman tells me that Miss Day telephoned to him about two +o’clock—possibly ten minutes before the hour. I judge that was only a +few moments after you found that your patient was dead?” + +“Yes. It must have been about that time. It was something after +one-thirty when the storm broke and I hurried along the corridor and +closed the south door. Then I closed the window in Room 17 and went +directly into Eighteen.” My voice was not quite steady at the +recollection of those moments and he waited briefly, his clear eyes +studying a pencil in his hands, before he went on. + +“The windows in Room 18 were also open?” + +“Yes. All the windows in the wing were open. It had been very hot and +close before the storm began.” + +He nodded. + +“Those windows are not far from the ground. Do you think someone from +outside could get into the hospital without attracting your +attention?” + +“Yes,” I said slowly. “It might be done but does not seem very +probable. With the doors to the sick-rooms open and the night so still +I believe I should have heard any unusual sound. But the door to +Eighteen was closed. I can’t be sure.” + +“You heard no unusual sound, then?” + +“Why, no—except that a few moments before the storm began I heard a +sort of bang—as if a window had dropped to the sill. It was not very +clear.” + +He was looking directly into my face, his eyes as clear as water. + +“You are sure it was a window? It might have been a door closing.” + +“It was not the door for it was still open. I am not sure—I +investigated but found nothing. The south door was still open—and as +far as I could tell the windows were as they had been.” + +“Did you look in Room 18?” + +“Yes.” + +There was a slight pause. Then: + +“The patient was—quiet at the time?” + +“The room was dark and still so I did not enter it. I just stood there +for a moment holding the door half open; I was afraid if I entered the +room I would wake him. He was asleep—that is——” I stopped abruptly as +it occurred to me that he had not been asleep; that the incident had +occurred not more than fifteen minutes before I found him dead. + +O’Leary seemed to read my thoughts. + +“Yes,” he said quietly. “He must have been dead—then. Can you be +certain of the time?” + +“Yes. It was shortly after one-thirty. I remember because I had just +noted the time on a patient’s chart, when I heard that dull sound and +went to see what it was.” + +He returned to his pencil, a shabby little red thing it was, which he +rolled absently between his well-kept fingers. + +“Was this sound sharp and loud?” + +“No—” I hesitated, trying to recall just how it had seemed. “No—it was +rather dull—muffled—and yet heavy. It was not very distinct.” + +“There were no other unusual circumstances? Nothing out of the +ordinary?” + +“Why, yes. There was someone—a man——” I broke off abruptly. That man +must have been Jim Gainsay. I had no wish to involve him in the +matter, at least until I became convinced that his movements should be +investigated. + +But Lance O’Leary’s gray eyes looked straight through to my back hair. + +“Yes?” he inquired. + +“Yes.” I spoke with an accent of finality, and gazed nonchalantly out +the window as if the subject were closed. + +“Where was he?” + +“Running around the hospital,” I replied curtly, wishing I had held my +tongue. + +“Around and around?” inquired O’Leary blandly. + +“No,” I snapped. “Running along the east side of the wing. I—he—we +collided.” + +O’Leary sat up straighter. + +“What!” + +“I had gone out on the porch for a breath of fresh air,” I explained +rather sullenly. “Just as I stepped off the porch I ran into him.” + +I stopped as if the incident were concluded. + +“Go on,” suggested the O’Leary man after waiting a moment; he was +being very polite and very pleasant and altogether disagreeable. + +“That’s all,” I said waspishly. I fastened my gaze on his extremely +well-made shoes—an attention that I have found invariably disconcerts +men—vain creatures! But this one was impervious. + +“And what did you say?” he persisted with the most insulting +good-humour. + +“I said ‘Well——’” I stared steadfastly at the shoes. + +“And what did he say?” + +I resisted an evil impulse to tell him literally and with feeling. + +“I hope you don’t think I’d repeat such language,” I replied, and I’m +sure he smiled. + +“Then what happened?” + +“He—er—set me on my feet again and kept on running.” + +“Very chivalrous,” remarked O’Leary. “So he kept on running—around the +hospital?” + +“No,” I answered peevishly. “He ran along the path toward the bridge.” + +“What did you do?” + +“I walked in the direction he had come from as far as the wing extends +but saw nothing unusual.” + +“Did you not call anyone? Were you not alarmed?” + +“I thought of calling Higgins, the janitor, but when I found that +things seemed to be all right I decided it was not necessary.” + +“Then you came back to the hospital?” + +“Yes.” + +“And all that time you saw or heard nothing uncommon?” + +“Well—I smelled something.” + +He made a perceptible motion of surprise. + +“You smelled something? Did you say _smelled_?” + +I nodded, taking a small degree of satisfaction in his discomposure. + +“As I passed that clump of elderberry bushes I smelled ether. It was +quite distinct. You know ether has a penetrating odour.” + +“But surely that was unusual?” + +“Yes. But the night was so hot and ether out there in the apple +orchard so impossible that I decided I must be mistaken, that it was +just the mingled scents of alfalfa and clover and other growing +things.” + +“Well—which was it? Ether or imagination?” + +“I don’t know,” I said firmly. “I’m just telling you what happened. I +know it sounds queer—but last night was a queer night. That dinner at +Corole’s and everything,” I finished thoughtlessly. + +“Dinner at Corole’s? That is Miss Letheny?” + +“Yes.” + +“Dr. Letheny was there?” + +“Yes.” + +“Anyone else?” + +“Yes. Miss Day, Dr. Balman, Dr. Hajek, and a friend of Dr. Letheny’s—a +Mr. Gainsay. He is an engineer who stopped for a day’s visit with +them.” + +“And you and Miss Letheny?” + +“Yes.” + +“You implied that it was—‘queer,’ I think was the word you used. How +was it queer?” + +“Oh—I scarcely know. It was very hot and oppressive you know—that sort +of electric atmosphere that precedes a thunder storm.” + +“Aside from the—er—electricity in the air, was everything quite as +usual?” + +I paused for a long moment before replying. + +“No,” I said candidly. “I think we were all a little nervous and +uneasy on account of the heat and suffocating air. That is, I was. And +Dr. Letheny—and Miss Day——” + +“But not the others?” + +“Well——” It was difficult to define that curious tensity I had felt in +the air all the night. “No one seemed quite natural to me. It may have +been only I who was a little nervous. I really can’t tell you anything +definite.” + +“Why did you say definitely that Dr. Letheny and Miss Day were unlike +themselves?” + +“Dr. Letheny is a rather quick-spoken man—when you know him you will +understand what I mean. He goes on his nervous energy, is very +high-strung and temperamental. He seemed especially explosive last +night. And Miss Day was a little abstracted, tired, I think.” + +“I suppose you talked—played bridge—had a little music?” + +“Yes. All of that.” + +“Any special topics of conversation?” + +“No——” + +He noted the uncertainty in my voice. + +“Radium wasn’t mentioned?” + +“Well—yes. But only in a general way.” + +“Didn’t speak of using it? Having it out of the safe?” + +“Yes,” I admitted reluctantly. + +“Didn’t say for what patient it was being used? In what room?” + +“Yes. But only casually.” I explained Dr. Letheny’s request to leave +the south door unlocked. + +“Anything else?” + +“Nothing in particular. We just talked of general matters.” + +“Such as——” + +I glanced at him impatiently. + +“Such as?” he repeated. + +“Oh—how warm it was, and how everybody longs for something that money +will buy, and how St. Ann’s is equipped with radios and expensive +ambulances and a whole gram of radium and how much such things cost +and all that—and then we played a few hands of bridge and then Dr. +Letheny played the piano and then Maida—Miss Day—and I came back +through the orchard to St. Ann’s and changed into our uniforms and +went on duty.” + +“You talked of money and how everybody longs for something that money +will buy,” mused O’Leary, adding with uncanny intuition, “I suppose +several of you admitted a special desire for money?” + +“Every single one of us,” I confessed. “That is, except Dr. Hajek. He +just listened and seemed amused.” + +He smiled. “Don’t be alarmed over such an admission. That doesn’t mean +anything, that you all wanted money. Everyone wants money. But suppose +you tell me, word for word, as much as you can remember of the +conversation. Don’t be afraid of implicating anyone, Miss Keate. I +make the request only because I like to get as clear an idea of the +general surroundings as possible.” He smiled again. He had an +extraordinarily winning smile; it brightened his whole face, for all +that it was so brief, and I found myself warming under its influence. + +Not seeing how I could possibly harm anyone I repeated as much of our +conversation as I could remember, and since I have usually a good +memory I think I omitted very little of it. + +When I had finished he sat for some time turning and twisting his +pencil. I might say that I never but once saw him use that pencil +sensibly as a pencil is meant to be used. I even grew to cherish a +notion that the pencil aided his mental processes and that if it were +taken away from him his ability to think might go along with it. Like +Samson’s hair, you know. Then I aroused myself from such childish +speculation. + +“If that is all——” I hinted. “This is a busy day for us, you know.” + +“Not quite all, Miss Keate.” The smile had completely gone from his +face; his expression lost its youthfulness and was very grave. “When +did you last see Dr. Letheny?” + +“Last night, shortly after twelve-thirty.” + +“He had come to see Mr. Jackson?” + +“Yes. He was here only a few moments.” + +“You saw him leave?” + +“Yes.” + +“And he did not return, to your knowledge?” + +“No.” + +“He said nothing of leaving town?” + +“Nothing.” + +“He said nothing that would lead you to believe that he was—er—worried +about anything? Had had any trouble?” + +“Nothing. I really think, Mr. O’Leary, that he will return before the +day is over. Some accident has detained him. There will be some +explanation.” + +“You—admire Dr. Letheny?” Lance O’Leary was scrutinizing a dripping +shrub outside the window as he spoke. + +“Yes,” I replied dubiously. “That is, he is a splendid surgeon, very +cool and very daring. I like to assist him.” + +“You have known him for a long time?” + +“Several years. That is, I have known him as everyone else knows him. +I do not believe that any of us feel particularly well acquainted with +him. He is rather distant, very much interested in some research that +he is carrying on.” + +“You don’t know the kind of research—the special subject of study?” + +“No.” + +There followed a long silence; the rain beat steadily against the +window; outside in the corridor I heard the sound of the four-o’clock +nourishment trays being carried along, the glasses of orange-juice and +egg-nogg clinking together. It was chilly there in the office and I +shivered a little. + +“I do wish that Dr. Letheny would return,” I said. “It is bad for the +head doctor of St. Ann’s to be away at such a time.” + +Lance O’Leary turned slowly to me. + +“Dr. Letheny will not return,” he said, eyeing me keenly. + +“Not return? What do you mean?” + +He shook his head. + +“He will not return,” he said very slowly and distinctly. “Dr. Letheny +is dead.” + + + +CHAPTER 4 + +A Yellow Slicker and Other Problems + +The slow words beat their way into my brain like so many dull little +hammers. I opened my mouth, tried to say something, but could not seem +to make him hear, felt curiously sick and dizzy, had a flashing memory +of the first time I served in the operating room and all at once the +table before me began to waver, the room whirled, and a great black +blanket overwhelmed me. + +Then, without any interval at all, I found myself lying on the couch +in the inner office. I still felt sick but my face was wet and cold +and my uniform damp around my shoulders and someone was saying in a +dull voice: “Dr. Letheny is dead—Dr. Letheny is dead.” + +“All right now, Miss Keate?” inquired a voice anxiously. + +Wearily I opened my eyes, saw a gray arm and met the gaze of a pair of +clear gray eyes. Instantly my head cleared. I pushed away the +supporting arm and sat up, feeling automatically for my cap, though my +hands shook. + +“That was beastly to shock you so,” Lance O’Leary was saying with +honest contrition. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Miss Keate, I’m really +awfully sorry.” + +“Did you say—Dr. Letheny is dead?” I asked, bringing out the words +with the peculiar difficulty that one experiences in dreams. + +“He is dead,” he answered gravely. + +“Not—not—— Tell me how he died.” + +“Are you sure you can stand it? You’ve got to know sometime.” + +“Go on,” I said, bracing myself. + +“He has been dead for more than twelve hours. He was in the closet in +Room 18.” He paused, regarding me doubtfully, but at my horrified +gesture continued: “He had received a blow of some kind. It fractured +his skull. He must have died immediately.” + +“Wait.” Rising I walked to the window, stared with unseeing eyes at +the rain-drenched landscape, found my palms were stinging under the +pressure of my fingernails, unclinched my hands, clinched them again +and turned to face O’Leary. It was true that I had felt no fondness +for Dr. Letheny—but I had often worked at his side. + +“I say, Miss Keate,” Lance O’Leary was protesting boyishly, “I’m +awfully sorry to have been so brutal about it. But you see, I had to +know whether this was news to you or not. Someone locked that closet +door, you know. And in my business we suspect everything—everybody—the +very walls themselves.” + +I was too deeply shocked to be indignant at the lack of compliment in +his implication; after a moment he continued. + +“There is nothing more for you to help me with now,” he said. “We just +found Dr. Letheny’s body this afternoon when we pried the closet door +off its hinges. I examined everything at once, called the ambulance, +and now the room can be cleaned and used again. The only reminder you +will have of all this, I hope, is that I shall likely be about more or +less for a few days—or longer. That depends upon the luck I have.” He +smiled again. Evidently he was trying to be as considerate as possible +and I found myself liking him. “Of course, there will have to be a +coroner’s inquest, but that is merely a matter of form and need not +annoy you. That is all now, thank you, Miss Keate. Can’t you take some +rest? Do you have night duty again to-night?” + +“Yes,” I answered the last question. “Mr. O’Leary, do you have any +idea as to who—who has done this?” + +His face sobered instantly. + +“No,” he said simply. “Will you help me find out?” + +“Yes.” I spoke very thoughtfully. “It is only right and just to do +so.” + +“Thank you.” He seemed sincere. “You may be interested to know that +you have helped me already.” + +“Helped you! How? There was nothing I told you——” + +“I’ll see you again, Miss Keate. By the way, I am leaving one or two +policemen about to-night. It may help to steady some of the nerves in +St. Ann’s.” He opened the door and before I knew it I was in the main +hall with my question still unanswered. + +I still felt ill and weak from shock, and it was fortunate that the +exigencies of the situation demanded action. That was the only saving +feature of these fearful days; we were all so busy that we had little +time for brooding. + +The news could not be kept from the nursing staff, of course, though I +hoped that we could keep it from the patients, many of whom had been +directly under Dr. Letheny’s care. And there was Corole—in common +decency I must go to her. + +I snatched somebody’s slicker from the rack near the main door and +turned into the corridor leading to the south wing, intending to slip +out the south door and along the path to Corole’s cottage, it being +much closer that way. + +In the corridor I met Dr. Balman. + +“I have heard,” I said briefly. “I am going to see Corole.” + +He nodded. + +“At the request of the Board of Directors I shall take Dr. Letheny’s +place—temporarily at least. I have just called a meeting of the whole +nursing staff, Miss Keate. You were with Mr. O’Leary so I did not +disturb you. I told them of the situation, gave orders that this thing +must not get to the ears of the patients, suspended training classes +for a few days, and doubled the number of girls on duty in the various +wings and wards until we get a working routine established. I find +that the girls are nervous over being alone.” He spoke very calmly, +but his extreme pallor caught my eye. + +“You had better get some rest, Dr. Balman. And have that bruise on +your cheek attended to—it looks bad.” + +He passed his hand over the bruise. + +“I bumped it while running through the apple orchard last night. I +wasted no time after I talked to Miss Day over the telephone.” + +“Oh—then you came by the side road?” + +“Yes. Thought I’d save time by not going around by the main entrance. +I didn’t expect this.” He fingered the spot cautiously. + +“Put iodine on it,” I advised. + +“I’ll sleep here in the hospital for a while,” he said. “I’ll be there +on the couch in the inner office. So if there is anything wanted I +shall be right here.” + +I nodded approvingly and went on, but while hurrying through the +corridor I became conscious of something about the casual sentences +that affected me disagreeably. What was it? Ah! “I bumped it while +running through the apple orchard.” To be sure he had followed the +words immediately with a very reasonable explanation, but wasn’t that +in itself suspicious! On the other hand, however, I had been quite +sure that the man with whom I collided had been Jim Gainsay. + +Well, there was no way to make sure. And I resolved that I must not +allow myself to become suspicious of anything and everything. The +affair was strain enough on one’s nerves as it was, without adding the +horror of suspecting one’s nearest associates. + +Immersed in my own not too pleasant thoughts I passed the door of Room +18 without seeing it, an occurrence that I was to find unusual. On the +porch stood a policeman, his broad back to the door, but he made no +effort to stop me when I descended the steps. Once in the path the +trees dripped steadily on my head, the wind blew the light slicker so +that it was difficult to hold it around me, and I bent my head and ran +through the damp welter of leaves and small sticks, with the branches +of the trees sweeping so low as to brush my hair and cap, and the +shrubbery reaching out thorny twigs to clutch at my white skirt. It +was shadowy there in the orchard and the hospital soon disappeared +behind the intervening shrubbery and trees and gray mist. It was +nearing five o’clock by that time and already growing dark so that the +path was not an altogether agreeable place in which to linger. + +I turned another little bend that sloped rapidly down to the bridge +and almost ran into a tall figure that was leaning upon the railing. +At my startled exclamation it turned to face me. It was Jim Gainsay, a +sodden hat pulled low over his eyes and the collar of his capacious +tweed coat turned up. He was smoking (it was a pipe I noted, thinking +of the cigarette case) and casting pebbles across the water, which is +not a rainy day pastime. + +“Oh. It’s you.” I said. + +“Miss Keate! Say, you are the very person I’ve been wanting to see. +Can you tell me something of poor old Louis?” + +“Louis? Oh, you mean Dr. Letheny.” I suppose I paled a little at the +name. At any rate Gainsay glanced sharply at me. + +“I didn’t mean to—disturb you,” he said apologetically. “You see, I +only heard of it an hour or so ago, and only what that fellow O’Leary +told me. Don’t talk if you would rather not.” + +“Then I know no more than you, for the detective, Mr. O’Leary, told me +of it, too. Of course, it was a shock.” + +Jim Gainsay nodded, his gaze again on the little stream that, swollen +by the night’s rain, swept in a bubbling current almost to our feet. + +“Poor old Louis,” he muttered. + +“You have known him a long time?” I said absently, my eyes too on the +water. + +“Since university days,” said Jim Gainsay slowly. “I always liked +Louis though I can’t say I understood him; no one ever did. In the +last few years I have seen him only a few times. It was terrible to—go +like that. Do they have any idea as to who—who killed him?” + +“Not that I know of,” I said and shivered at the thought of the black +night so recently past and of the unknown and ghastly presence that +Room 18 had held. And I had taken that futile little candle and +searched the room for the thing that some sixth sense warned me was +there! I shivered again and caught my breath and Jim Gainsay turned to +me again. + +“Don’t let me keep you out here in the storm. You are cold in that +slicker thing.” + +“A little. I am going to see Corole. How does she take it?” + +Jim Gainsay’s frown deepened. + +“I hardly know. I can’t understand her any better than I could +understand Louis. She looked—sort of bad—this morning. Tired, you +know. And kept saying Louis would return. But she was terribly +nervous. Prowled over the house like a cat.” He shrugged in distaste. +“Fairly gave me the creeps to watch her. Then when they came up to the +house to tell her that—that they had found him she just sort of froze +all up. Hardly said a word.” + +“Wasn’t she dreadfully shocked?” + +“Well—I don’t know. You never can tell how Corole is feeling or what +she is thinking about. Of course, she and Louis sort of got on each +other’s nerves a little. That is—you know what I mean——” He glanced at +me uncertainly. + +“I know.” + +“I suppose St. Ann’s is awfully upset?” + +“We are trying to keep everything going as well as possible. It is a +bad situation, naturally. The nurses are doing their best but there is +a sort of undercurrent of hysteria.” My mind on Corole, I did not +immediately note where his inquiries were leading. + +“Miss Day was with you in the south wing last night, was she not?” He +knocked his pipe carefully against the railing. + +“Yes.” + +“How—er—— Is she feeling any bad effects from the fright?” + +“I have seen her only for a few moments at lunch,” I replied; at +another time I should have smiled at his elaborately impersonal air. + +“I—don’t suppose I could see her? For a little while?” + +“She will be free between six and seven o’clock. But we are allowing +no visitors for a few days . . .” My voice trailed doubtfully into +space. + +“But see here, Miss Keate, I—it is important that I see her.” He spoke +rather defiantly as if he dared me to ask why. “Will you carry a note +to her, then?” + +Well, I was willing to carry a note to Maida, so I shivered under the +folds of the flapping slicker while he stood with his back to the rain +and wind, scribbling hastily on a bit of yellowish paper he pulled +from his pocket. He held the paper close to him to protect it from the +rain but I noted that it was an unused Western Union telegraph blank. + +“There, and thank you, Miss Keate.” He handed me the folded scrap of +paper and I slipped it into my pocket. + +But at the end of the bridge I turned. + +“Why, Mr. Gainsay,” I exclaimed. “I had forgotten. You were to leave +this morning!” + +His face had lost the youthful look with which he had begged me to +take the note to Maida, and had become lined again, and his narrowed +eyes were unfathomable under that shadowy hat brim. + +“I shall not go for a few days,” he said after a barely perceptible +pause. “I can scarcely leave at such a time. Louis was a friend. They +have no relatives here. Corole needs someone.” + +His disjointed explanation did not please me. I restrained a rather +obvious remark as to chaperonage; after all, Huldah was a militant and +vigorous enough chaperon to suit the most meticulous Mrs. Grundy. + +I daresay, however, that my disapproval was apparent in my expression, +for Jim Gainsay added hastily: + +“My boat doesn’t sail till next week.” + +“Your boat?” + +“I’m to sail on the _Tuscania_.” + +“Oh,” I said flatly, and there being nothing further I took my way on +around the hill. + +The Letheny cottage looked cold and grim as I approached it. Puddles +stood along the turf path; the flowers were beaten down by the wind +and leaves had blown all over the porch. Huldah answered the bell, her +eyes red and swollen and the cap that Corole had forced her to adopt +hanging dejectedly over one ear. + +“Miss Keate!” she cried. “And so wet!” She took my slicker, holding it +so it could not drip on the rug. “Oh, Miss Keate! Such a t’ing! Such a +t’ing!” It is only when Huldah is tremendously moved that she forgets +her digraphs. + +“Yes, it is dreadful, Huldah,” I said. “How is Miss Corole?” + +Huldah shrugged her heavy shoulders oddly. + +“There she is, in the study.” She motioned toward the door without +answering my question and then followed me, her china-blue eyes +curious and round like a rabbit’s between their pink rims. + +“Oh, it’s you,” said Corole with not very flattering indifference. +“For Heaven’s sake, Huldah, take that wet coat to the kitchen. And +close the door behind you,” she added viciously. “I suppose you came +to offer sympathy,” she went on, moving a pillow to a more comfortable +position under her arm. She was half-lying, half-sitting on the big +davenport. A fire had been built in the fireplace but had burned down +to a few sullen ashes with a red gleam here and there. There was no +light in the room beyond the gray, rainy dusk from the windows. + +Corole’s hair was disarranged a little from its usual flat gold waves, +and her eyes had great dark circles under them, and her face in the +ghostly gray light was sallow and drawn. But she was gowned in a +coppery-green silk thing that clung smoothly to her rather luxuriant +curves. A heavily embroidered Chinese scarf, whose usual place, I +recalled, was on the long table near her, had been flung over her feet +and somehow, I presume because she glanced obliquely at it and reached +surreptitiously to rearrange it, I got the impression that she had +hastily flung it over her feet as I came into the room. + +“Yes,” I replied gravely. “I am very sorry that this thing has +happened.” + +“Oh, of course, it is terrible,” she agreed quickly. “The whole thing +is simply unspeakable.” + +There was little for us to say; I offered the usual remarks; Corole +told me that Dr. Letheny’s body would be sent to New Orleans for +burial with others of the family and thanked me perfunctorily for my +offers of assistance. + +“Jim Gainsay is staying on for a few days,” she said. “Nice of him but +I really don’t see what he can do.” There was a faint ring of +resentment in her voice that surprised me. Corole was not a woman to +resent masculine company. + +“I suppose Huldah is making you comfortable?” I said for lack of +something better. + +“Oh, yes,” replied Corole discontentedly. “She does as well as usual. +She was awfully upset about all this. Jumps every time I speak to +her.” + +“Would you like someone to come and stay with you for a few days?” + +“No,” said Corole sharply. “No. Why should I?” + +“Oh—in case of anything—er—happening. I should think you would be a +little nervous.” My explanation sounded somewhat lame and I recalled +that Corole actually had no idea of the things we had gone through +last night. . . . A swift recollection of that shallow, locked closet +in Room 18 came to me and I arose suddenly, moved to another chair, +and tried to think of something else. + +“. . . not that Huldah would be any good if something did happen,” +Corole was saying. “She would simply pull the covers over her head and +shriek. But there’s Jim.” She added the last name grudgingly as if to +say, “such as he is,” and lapsed into silence. + +“I must get back to the hospital,” I said presently, not seeing that +my presence was vital to Corole. + +“I don’t suppose they have any idea as to what happened to the +radium,” she observed casually as I arose. + +“No. I don’t know what to think.” + +“It would seem natural to believe that whoever killed Mr. Jackson +and—er—Louis—did so in order to get the radium.” + +“So it would seem,” I agreed. “For my part, I have not had time to +speculate on possibilities. It is—too shocking.” + +“Don’t you think that they will try to trace the radium?” + +“I don’t think anything about it,” I replied caustically. Her interest +in the radium annoyed me. I felt repelled at her callous lack of +grief. Suppose she and Dr. Letheny had not been on the best of terms, +nevertheless they were cousins and housemates. + +“Well,” she kept on, “it all seems very strange. Didn’t you see or +hear a thing while all that was going on?” Her catlike eyes, whose +pupils shone large and flat and black in the semi-twilight, flickered +over me with interest. + +“No,” I said shortly. I did not relish being questioned by Corole +Letheny. “If there is nothing I can do for you I am going.” + +“No need to be in a hurry,” she said indolently, yawning a little as +she moved with a luxuriant stretching of muscles to a more comfortable +position among the cushions. + +“Good-night,” I said curtly. “And do have some light!” As I spoke I +reached abruptly for the lamp cord, pulled it, and the green light +fell on the davenport. + +Corole sprang upright with a startled half word, clutched the Chinese +scarf and pulled it more securely over her feet. + +“Good-night,” I said again and left. + +Huldah was waiting in the hall. As I took my coat it seemed to me that +there was something hesitant in her attitude, as if she wanted to +speak to me, but I was in a hurry and furthermore in no mood to +condole with her. So I threw the slicker over my shoulders and +splashed along the sodden path. + +I scarcely noticed the rain, however, nor the cold discomforts of the +path. When I entered the south wing and slipped quietly along its +hushed length, I was still rotating in my mind a certain question. + +When the light had flashed on there in Dr. Letheny’s study, I had +caught a brief but distinct view of Corole’s slippers. They were +beautiful pumps, high-heeled bronze kid with dainty, cut-steel +buckles. But they were mud-stained and sodden with moisture and had +wet leafmold clinging to them. + +Where had Corole Letheny gone that afternoon? What errand had been so +urgent that she had gone out of the house through the rain and storm +in such haste that she had not had time to remove those dainty +slippers? + +Facing my own white, tired face in the mirror, I pushed my loosened +hair together, removed little torn pieces of leaves from it and +righted my cap. My shoes were soaked, so I changed them. Premonitory +pangs of neuralgia began to shoot over my left temple, and I wished +that I had not stood so long in the rain talking to Jim Gainsay. + +With the thought came memory of the note with which I had been +intrusted and I planned to give it to Maida at dinner; the bell was +just ringing for the meal, then. + +In my abstraction I had worn the borrowed slicker to my room; as I +started down to the dining room I threw it over my arm. Idly wondering +whose coat I had appropriated I ran my hand into a pocket, drawing out +a man’s handkerchief. It was large and white and had no distinguishing +marks on it. But there was a faint scent—I pressed the square of linen +to my nose, sniffed—and sniffed again with quickened interest. Faint +but unmistakable, the scent of ether emanated from its folds. + +I stopped midway on the stairs, stared at the thing and deliberately +went through the other pockets. There was nothing more to be found; no +identifying label or initials on the whole garment. + +One yellow slicker is very much like another, and search though I did +I found no means of discovering its owner. I felt, however, that I +should like to have the ether smell clinging to that handkerchief +explained. Possibly if I returned it to the rack and watched to see +who came for it I should learn, at least, the identity of its owner. +Thinking that no one would call for it during the dinner hour, the +quietest time of the whole day, I replaced the handkerchief and hung +the slicker on the hook from which I had taken it, and went down to +dinner. But when I returned some fifteen minutes later, after hurrying +over my dinner, the slicker was gone and I had not the faintest idea +as to who had removed it. + +I gave the note from Jim Gainsay to Maida when I met her in the hall +outside the dining room and had the dubious satisfaction of seeing her +crimson vividly as she read it. The crimson, however, was succeeded by +a pallor that went to her lips as she finished reading the few +sentences, and during the meal she kept her eyes steadfastly on her +plate and ate practically nothing. And shortly after dinner, happening +to be standing near an east window, I saw a slim, shadowy figure, +crowned in a white cap, winding its way into the apple orchard. +Something after seven o’clock, when I was catching forty winks in my +own room, Maida came in. The soft frame of black hair around her face +had little beads of mist caught in it and I did not doubt that Jim +Gainsay had succeeded in seeing her. + +She did not mention him, however, but fussed around the room for a +while, playing with the manicure things I had left on the +dressing-table top, flipping through the leaves of the last _Surgical +News_, and generally behaving as a woman does whose thoughts are +elsewhere. She even picked up my tool kit, commenting on the curved +bandage scissors and shining forceps and playing idly with the tiny +plunger of my own hypodermic set. + +We said nothing of the affair of the previous night; it was too +recent, its developments too terrifying; we were both, I suppose, +unconsciously fortifying ourselves against the ordeal of the coming +second watch, which the memory of the last was not calculated to make +easier. + +Maida had two crimson spots on her cheeks—from the walk in the rain, I +judged—but her eyes had slender purple shadows under them, her hands, +usually so steady, fluttered a little over the tools she was +fingering, she either spoke too rapidly of some trivial matter or +lapsed into silence, and when someone passing coughed suddenly Maida +started visibly, the pupils of her eyes darkened swiftly, and she cast +a quick, apprehensive glance over her shoulder toward the door. + +But since it was only to be expected that we both show the strain of +the last twenty-four hours, I thought nothing of her evident +uneasiness. + +She had not been in the room more than half an hour when I was called +to the third-floor telephone. The connection was poor and it took a +few moments to find that it was Miss Neil who was wanted, and when I +returned to my own room Maida had gone and I did not see her again +until we met in the south wing at twelve o’clock. + +Contrary to our unacknowledged apprehensions, second watch that night +went much the same as on other nights. The electric lights had finally +been repaired, though the utmost illumination was little enough to +suit my taste. Just in front of the south door a policeman, tipped +perilously back in his chair, slumbered spasmodically and I must say +that, though he was no beauty, he was a most agreeable sight. + +Fortunately for our piece of mind, it was a busy night. We actually +needed the extra help, Olma Flynn and a student nurse, and the two +extra uniforms, here and there about the wing, made it seem a little +less silent and ghostly. + +Along about two o’clock Sonny’s light went on and I answered it. + +“Why, hello, Miss Keate,” he said, as I turned on the light above his +bed. “You haven’t been in to see me since last night.” + +Was it only last night? + +“I’ve been busy, Sonny,” I replied. “How is the cast doing?” + +“It was pretty bad last night.” He moved a little to ease his tired +body. “It is better to-night, though. Quite a lot more comfortable. +What happened last night, Miss Keate? I heard somebody scream.” + +“One of the girls had a little fright.” I made my explanation casually +but Sonny’s gaze remained puzzled. + +“To-day has been so queer, too. So many people in and out and strange +footsteps past the door. And this afternoon, about two o’clock, they +shut all the doors and I heard the wheels of a truck being taken along +the corridor. Did—did one of the patients die, Miss Keate?” + +When I can’t tell the truth I made it a rule to tell as near the truth +as possible. + +“One of the patients died, Sonny. He was an old gentleman.” + +“Oh,” said Sonny, eyeing me doubtfully. I reached over to straighten +his sheets. Through long hours of suffering, of lying helpless in bed +and being at times rather nearer the other world than this, Sonny has +developed a highly sensitive intuition. + +“Oh,” he said again. He was not satisfied but had good manners. “Did +you have a nice time at the party?” he asked cheerfully. + +“At the party—— Why, no, Sonny. It—er—wasn’t a very nice party. It was +too hot.” + +“I guess Miss Day didn’t get time to come in and tell me about it. I +looked for her. But she must have been too busy.” + +“But I thought——” I checked myself abruptly, continuing: “Maybe she +will come in to see you to-night. What is it you wanted, Sonny?” + +“Just a fresh drink, please. And would you change my pillows?” + +I brought the fresh drink and made him as comfortable as possible. + +So Maida had not been in to see Sonny last night after all! And she +had volunteered the information, I remembered; I had not even asked +for it. I deliberated over the matter for some time before I came to +the reluctant conclusion that only an affair of importance would have +brought Maida to the point of telling a deliberate lie. Which +conclusion did not lighten my state of mind. + +The night didn’t go so well after that. + +From midnight until four o’clock are the dreaded hours of St. Ann’s +régime. They are gray, cold, dreary hours—hours when pulses lag most +feebly, when the breath comes most wearily, when life seems a burden +that is all too easily escaped and the other world seems so near that +the nurse must cling to her patients with all her will to keep them +from making that quiet, easy journey. It is one of the demands of our +profession that the most is asked of our strength at a time when it is +at its lowest ebb. + +Last night there had been two dead men in our wing—and dead by +another’s hands. Whose hand had it been? + +Somehow during those black hours in that hushed and shadowy wing the +thing that struck me with the most horror, that brought my heart, +quivering, to my throat and gooseflesh all up my arms, was the memory +of that locked closet. + +Dead men can’t walk. Dead men can’t carry keys. Dead men can’t lock +doors. + +Who had locked that door? We _must_ believe that it was some intruder, +someone outside our little circle at St. Ann’s. And surely the police +had searched the place and that fearful intruder could not still be +about, hidden in some recess of the dark old halls and passageways. + +And yet—who would be familiar with the plan of St. Ann’s? Who would +know that the radium was in use? Who, indeed, would know of its value? + +Eleven’s signal light clicked and I hastened to answer, putting down +the chart at which I had been staring without even seeing its red +temperature line. + +I found Eleven in a chill, which was followed, as I expected, by a +raging fever under which he grew steadily delirious. Dr. Balman’s +orders for the night had included an opiate if conditions warranted +it, so I went to the drug room. + +The drug room is at the north end of the wing, directly opposite the +diet kitchen. We always keep there a small supply of drugs for which +we have frequent need. We do not keep the door locked as the drugs are +in small quantities. In the drug room, too, we keep the various tools +we are apt to need, among them a hypodermic syringe and a supply of +needles. During the week past the syringe belonging to the south wing +had got something wrong with its small plunger and Maida had brought +her own outfit down for us to use, which had reposed beside the broken +one in a drawer. + +Pulling open this drawer I lifted the only syringe it contained and +found it to be the broken one. Maida must be using the other, I +reflected, and after waiting a few moments for her to return it I +started out to find her. + +She was in the kitchen, preparing a malted milk. + +“May I have the hypo?” I asked hurriedly. + +“The hypodermic syringe?” + +“Of course. I need it at once.” + +“Isn’t it in the drug room?” She was measuring the cream-coloured +powder carefully. + +“No. I thought you had it.” + +“I haven’t used it to-night.” She did not look at me. + +“I’ll see if Miss Flynn has it.” I turned quickly away. But Miss Flynn +did not have it, and had not had it. She hinted that I must have +overlooked it and even walked back to the drug room with me, pulling +out the drawer with her own hand. + +“Why, there it is!” she exclaimed triumphantly. + +And to be sure, there it was! + +I was considerably chagrined, especially as Miss Flynn laughed and +said something not at all witty about my eyesight. + +And in the very act of filling the thing I caught sight of something +that almost made me drop it. It was only a scratch across the bit of +nickel where the manufacturer’s name is engraved but it was a scratch +I myself had made in order to identify it. In a hospital it is easy to +get such things confused, so I had simply taken a pair of surgical +scissors and scratched across the letter “K” which appeared in the +manufacturer’s name, Kesselbach. + +My own hypodermic syringe! How had it got there? Like a flash my mind +reverted to the memory of Maida, sitting on the edge of the window +sill, looking at my tool kit and taking this same tool in her +pink-tipped fingers. + +I administered the hypodermic automatically, sterilized the needle and +replaced it, and returned to Eleven. + +But in that darkened room, listening to the gradually less rapid +breathing of the sick man, and the still gusty wind and rain through +which a slow gray dawn was beginning to make itself felt, I found +myself possessed of new problems. + + + +CHAPTER 5 + +A Lapis Cuff Link + +From that morning on I took an active interest in the case—I mean, in +solving the problem. Indeed, Mr. O’Leary has had the kindness to say, +since, that I helped—well, I need not repeat his words. However, it is +true that I did everything in my power, which was little enough, to +solve the mystery that confronted us. While I am not at all +inquisitive, nevertheless I do have an inquiring mind, due doubtless +to the fact that I have lived in a hospital for a number of years and +hospitals are hotbeds of gossip. Not malicious gossip, you understand, +for nurses are one class of women in the world who can keep the faith +which the ethics of the profession as well as individual integrity +demand. + +But anything that happens in our small world is of interest; the +patient in the charity ward who almost swallowed a thermometer and had +to be up-ended and shaken, the precipitate arrival of a new baby in a +roadster out in front of the hospital, or the alcoholic whose language +shocked—or diverted as the case might be—a whole wing. + +Besides the fact that the murders had occurred in the south wing, for +which I feel a responsibility—the wing, I mean, not the murders!—there +were other and as serious considerations. Chief among these was the +affair of the hypodermic syringe and Maida’s inexplicable behaviour +the night of the seventh, and the presence of Jim Gainsay as testified +by that gold cigarette case. + +A hospital ought to be sanctuary and it seemed to me an offense +against all the laws of humanity that this hideous thing should have +happened within our walls of mercy. I deliberately tried to put myself +in the frame of mind to be suspicious about anything and +everything—and I trust it is no reflection on my character to say that +I succeeded without much effort. + +I found plenty to be suspicious about, and without going out of the +way to do so. The only trouble was that, though I pride myself on +being a keen and clear-minded woman and have more than the usual +amount of determination, I could not arrive at any conclusion. + +I worried all day about Maida, however, and when Lance O’Leary turned +up about four o’clock, with a polite request for an interview, I did +not know whether to be glad or sorry. + +We went into the general waiting room to talk. It was a chilly place, +with slippery leather-covered furniture and on the wall a none too +cheerful picture of the burning of Joan of Arc. The weather had +settled into a steady, dripping rain by that time, the clouds were +still heavy, and the very concrete steps of the main entrance, just +below the windows, oozed moisture. It was an added distress that not +once during those strange days did we see the sun. Everything we +touched was damp and cold and sweaty. + +O’Leary was as meticulously groomed as he had been the day before, but +there was about him a sort of quiet but intense concentration that +seemed to detach him from ordinary affairs of the world. I have seen +the same thing in the face of an artist I used to know—and in the face +of a dear and saintly old nun under whom I trained. + +There was nothing, however, of the poseur about him. He was ordinarily +rather silent, was occasionally oddly boyish and young, was simple and +direct—it was his unconscious absorption that marked him. And those +extraordinarily clear gray eyes. + +He asked a few commonplace questions as to how I felt, and were things +going well, and was the policeman of any use. Then, he reached +absently into his pocket and drew out the stubby red pencil. + +“Miss Day was your assistant in the wing the night of the seventh?” + +“Yes. We have second watch together this two weeks.” + +“How long has she been here at St. Ann’s?” + +“Three years.” + +“She is a good nurse, I judge? Cool and restrained?” + +“One of the best.” + +“She is a friend of yours?” + +“I admire her very much,” I said warmly. “She is a girl of high moral +character, thoroughly honourable and reliable.” + +“M’h’m——” He began to roll the inevitable little pencil. + +“I suppose a nurse becomes fairly well acquainted with the other +nurses, as well as the doctors, who frequent the hospital?” + +“Yes,” I said doubtfully, not seeing just where his questions were +tending. + +“Miss Day looks to be a girl of strong likes and dislikes.” + +Well, that was perfectly true so I contented myself with a nod. + +“She was a good friend of Miss Letheny’s and—of the doctor’s?” + +“Not—particularly,” I said slowly. “We were all on friendly terms. +Corole had us over there often.” + +“Did Miss Day work much with Dr. Letheny?” + +“About as I did. She is a good surgical nurse.” + +“You mean she is efficient in assisting with operations?” + +“Yes.” + +“I suppose that requires—nerve? Courage? A cool hand?” + +“Yes.” I was beginning to feel uneasy. + +He paused for a moment, his gray eyes on the heavy clouds beyond the +window. + +“Tell me again, Miss Keate, just what you did when you first found +that Mr. Jackson was dead.” + +“I left Room 18 and went to get a candle. When I returned Miss Day was +in the doorway of Eighteen. There was a flash of lightning, and I saw +her and she spoke to me.” + +“What did she say?” + +“Just something about the storm. She had been closing windows in the +wing.” + +“Did she know that Jackson was dead?” + +“Why, no! Not until I lit the candle and she saw him.” + +“She was surprised, of course?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then, as I understand it, she went through the dark corridor to the +general office to telephone to Dr. Letheny. Was she willing to go? Or +was she—reluctant?” + +“I—she——” + +He caught my hesitation. + +“She did not wish to telephone to him?” + +“The corridor was so dark you could hardly see your hand before you,” +I remarked crisply. “And it was storming.” + +“Of course, of course,” said O’Leary pacifically. + +“Miss Letheny told Miss Day that the doctor was out,” he went on +quietly. “Then she, Miss Day, had the presence of mind to call Dr. +Balman. I suppose she knew his telephone number? Or was there some +kind of light in the office?” + +“She asked Information for the number.” + +“Then Dr. Balman came out here at once?” + +“Yes. He was here in just a few moments. He lives at the first +apartment house off Lake Street and it is only a short drive.” + +“In the meantime you waked Dr. Hajek?” + +“Yes. He sleeps in that little room that opens into the general +office. He usually answers ’phone calls at night and—keeps an eye on +things. Unless he is asleep,” I added waspishly, thinking of how +soundly he had slept when we needed him most. + +“Why did not Miss Day call Dr. Hajek, when she called Dr. Balman?” + +“She did try to but could not wake him. But Dr. Balman was Dr. +Letheny’s assistant and should be called in a matter of such +importance.” + +“Then you called Dr. Hajek yourself. I suppose you told him what had +happened.” + +“No. I was so excited that I just told him to go at once to Room 18. I +even pushed him toward the door.” I smiled a little. “I took him by +the coat and——” + +“Took him by the coat? Then he was fully dressed!” O’Leary’s gaze +pierced mine. + +“Yes.” I paused as a certain recollection thrust itself upon me. “He +must have been outside! In the rain!” + +“Why do you say that?” + +“His coat was damp.” + +O’Leary studied the pencil for a long time. + +“Then what happened?” he asked finally in an inflectionless voice. + +“Why—then—then I got hold of some lights and went back to Eighteen. +They were all there, Maida and Dr. Hajek and Dr. Balman. They were +just staring at the patient and doing nothing. Dr. Balman told me that +he had died of an overdose of morphine. Of course, I knew that not a +grain of morphine had been ordered. So that meant that it was done +purposely. It was while we were standing there that——” I stopped. No +need to tell that! + +But he glanced at me quickly. + +“Go on, Miss Keate.” + +“It was nothing.” + +“Then you should not object to telling of it.” + +“Well,” I began reluctantly, “it was only that, as we were standing +there, all at once there was a tiny bit of red that came from the +hypodermic wound. You know the little pin prick where the needle has +been inserted. It was——” I coughed to hide the tremble in my voice. +“It was—very unusual.” + +I could see that Lance O’Leary, for all his professional frigidity, +was somewhat shaken, for his hands gripped the pencil tightly and he +drew a deliberate breath. + +“That old superstition means nothing,” he said. “But it must have +been—grisly. And there were only you and Miss Day and Dr. Hajek and +Dr. Balman in the room?” + +My throat being dry I made an assenting gesture. + +“And—Dr. Letheny in the closet,” added O’Leary softly. + +At that I must have gone quite pale, for Lance O’Leary, eyeing me with +that oddly lucid gaze, spoke abruptly, as if to distract my thoughts. + +“I believe you are a woman of some discretion.” + +“I ought to be! At my age.” + +“The fact inclines one to talk with you,” he said drily. “Look here, +Miss Keate, this is not going to be an easy job. In the first place it +is obvious that the guilty person is very likely someone who is +familiar with St. Ann’s.” I made some protestant motion and he went +on: “Surely that has occurred to you?” + +“Yes,” I replied in a small voice. + +“Why?” + +“Because it must have been someone who knew that the radium was being +used and in what room.” + +“And one who was familiar enough with the hospital routine to know the +best time to enter the wing unobserved,” said O’Leary. + +“That eliminates Jim Gainsay,” I remarked without thinking. + +He regarded me keenly. + +“We will come to him later,” he said. “As to the radium—yes, I think +we can assume that the radium theft was at least one of the motives. +Its disappearance indicates that, though it might be merely a blind. +But the radium is very valuable, a small fortune to many men. As a +matter of routine we have taken steps to insure the immediate +reporting of anyone trying to dispose of a quantity of radium. I do +not expect to hear from this, however, for the person who has the +radium will naturally wait until this affair has blown over before +attempting to sell the stuff. Yes, the radium theft may account for +the death of Jackson but not for Dr. Letheny. At least not unless——” + +“Unless he caught the thief?” I interrupted eagerly. + +“If that were true, how account for his stealthy return to St. Ann’s +and the fact that he did not call for help?” He paused but I said +nothing and he continued: “Then there is the obvious conjecture that +the person who administered the morphine must have been either so +skilled that he could do so without awaking Jackson, or someone to +whom the patient was accustomed. Dr. Letheny had charge of the case——” + +“Dr. Hajek helped him some,” I blurted. “And Dr. Balman was in to see +him once or twice. And there were the nurses——” + +“Then it appears to lie between Dr. Hajek and Dr. Balman and you and +Miss Day,” said O’Leary all too coolly. I gasped and he went on: “And +the unknown element which is always to be considered. We can’t tell +which died first—Dr. Letheny or his patient. We do not even know for +certain whether Dr. Letheny met his death inside the walls of the +hospital or not, but I have reason to believe that it was in Room 18. +Otherwise it would have been difficult and purposeless, so far as I +can see, to convey his body into the room and into that closet. Almost +impossible for a woman,” he added as if in afterthought, and his eyes +on that aggravating pencil. “I am inclined to think that the sound you +heard and believed to be a window dropping to the sill was actually +the blow that meant death for Dr. Letheny.” + +“Oh——!” + +“Yes.” His eyes were meeting mine, searching my face so intently that +I felt as if my very thoughts were visible to them. “Now, Miss Keate, +please tell me something of this Corole Letheny. I understand that she +and her cousin were not on the best of terms.” + +“That is true,” I acknowledged hesitantly. + +“Don’t be afraid of incriminating anyone,” said O’Leary impatiently. +“Clues are funny things. When they seem to point one way they are very +apt, on close investigation, to point another way entirely. So please +don’t hesitate to answer my questions.” + +This reassured me somewhat; not that I have ever cared for Corole +Letheny, but one does pause to consider one’s speech in such a serious +matter. + +“Corole and Dr. Letheny never did get along well together. But I don’t +think she can be involved in this.” Thinking of the oddly mud-stained +slippers, I paused again. That incident could have had nothing to do +with the murders, of course, but still it was singular. + +“What is it, Miss Keate?” + +Before I knew it I had told him of the muddied bronze kid pumps. + +“Indicating that Miss Letheny had some errand that took her hurriedly +into the storm and that within a few moments following the discovery +of Dr. Letheny’s death. Suppose you ask this maid, Huldah, about it. +She will be more willing to talk to you. Oh, yes”—he smiled a +little—“we must investigate every incident, every straw, no matter how +small and insignificant it appears. And moreover,” he drew something +from his pocket, “I am interested in Miss Letheny because of this.” He +placed the small, square object on the table before us. I stared. It +was Corole Letheny’s revolver. She had bragged about the thing often +enough so I had no difficulty recognizing it. Someone had made her a +gift of it, and it was very unsuitably decorated with some sort of +silver trumpery and had her initials engraved upon it. + +“We found this on the floor of the closet in which Dr. Letheny was +found,” said O’Leary quietly. + +For a long moment I sat there in silence, my eyes fascinated by the +dully gleaming thing. What could it tell? + +“But—neither of the men was shot!” I said at length. + +“No,” agreed O’Leary, still quietly. “No. There is only the fact to go +on that Corole Letheny’s revolver was found in the room where two men +met their death in one night. That is all. It only indicates her +probable presence at some time in the room. And a revolver usually +means that whoever carried it had reason to believe he was in +danger—or expected trouble of some kind.” + +“But—Dr. Letheny might have brought it himself. He might have +suspected that someone was planning to steal the radium.” + +Lance O’Leary smiled slowly. + +“You are loyal, Miss Keate. It may interest you to know that on going +through Dr. Letheny’s deed box, I found that he was the beneficiary of +a reasonably large income and that on his death it goes to Corole. I +find, too—you see we detectives make our living by questions and +answers,” he interpolated, as I suppose I looked as I felt, very much +puzzled at the knowledge he appeared to have secured—“I find, too, +that Dr. Letheny kept his household down to the most moderate of +expenses and gave Miss Letheny only a barely sufficient allowance.” + +“It is true that she has complained a great deal about money,” I +admitted thoughtfully. “She is rather beautiful, you know, and loves +to dress well.” + +He nodded. + +“You have seen her then?” I asked. + +“Yesterday. I talked to her. Yes, I suppose she does love clothes and +finery. It is on account of her—dark blood.” + +“Her what?” I sat bolt upright. + +“Good Lord, Miss Keate! Didn’t you know that?” + +“Know that Corole Letheny is a——?” + +“I think it comes to her by way of Haiti,” he interrupted. “And a very +beautiful mother.” + +“But—her light hair and eyes! You must be mistaken!” + +“Her eyes are yellow, Miss Keate. A good deal like a tiger’s. In fact +she is a rather tigerish lady, on the whole. I suspected it when I +first saw her brown hands, and was convinced when I found a reference +to her in Dr. Letheny’s papers; once he mentions her rather bitterly +as ‘my mulatto cousin,’ and another time refers to her birthplace and +his aunt, Jolbar, who, it seems, traced her lineage directly, if +unobtrusively, to a cannibalistic royal line. Don’t be so shocked, +Miss Keate. A little mixture of blood doesn’t hurt her. It only +increases my difficulty.” + +“Increases your difficulty?” I murmured, feeling rather dazed. + +“By increasing the complexities of a personality that I must classify +and index. You see,” he went on, as I still did not wholly understand +him, “Corole is a factor to be considered along with the rest of the +possibilities. And this fact warns me that she likely has a streak of +savagery back of those yellow eyes; that the beat of tom-toms would +stir her, for instance. She is apt to be rather indolent, too, and to +seek what she desires in unconventional ways. Such as by the use of +revolvers.” + +“Why, yes,” I murmured idiotically. “Murder _is_ unconventional.” + +“So you see, the counts against Corole are interesting, to say the +least. Then, there are the others at that ill-fated dinner party. We +shall have to consider the possible culpability of every single one of +them—even of you, Miss Keate.” He added this with a half smile but I +did not relish his joke—if joke it was. I was inclined to think it was +not. + +“Corole Letheny,” he checked her off on his fingers. “Because her +revolver was found in the closet of Room 18, because she knew of the +radium being in use and of the hospital routine and of the door being +left unlocked and because she benefits by Dr. Letheny’s death.” + +“But I’m sure she did not know what had happened to the radium,” I +said, going hastily on to tell him of her questions concerning it. + +“She shows considerable interest, however,” commented O’Leary. “And at +an inappropriate time, too. Yes, we must consider Corole.” + +“But she—oh, she could not have done that!” I cried, revolted. + +“We can’t be sure of anything, Miss Keate, until it is proved,” +remarked O’Leary drily. “Then, there is Dr. Hajek; he was like the +others, familiar with the circumstances, he had access to the +morphine, being a doctor, and his coat was damp when, after some +delay, you finally succeeded in rousing him, which, of course, leads +one to believe that he was absent from his room and had recently been +out in the rain.” + +“But,” I objected, “Dr. Hajek was the only one of us who did not admit +to wanting money—if we are to consider the radium as the motive.” + +“That does not prove anything. Indeed, it was more natural to admit a +desire that everybody experiences at one time or another. Then, there +was Dr. Balman. He, too, was familiar with the circumstances. Of +course there remains the important questions of how Dr. Letheny comes +into the puzzle, and whether Dr. Balman could have had time to drive +to his apartment in order to be there when the telephone rang to call +him back to the hospital.” + +“Why, yes,” I said thoughtfully. “He could have done so. You see, just +as the storm broke and I was at the south door, closing it, I saw the +lights of a car on the lower road. That _could_ have been Dr. Balman. +But the idea is absurd. Dr. Balman is too mild, too kind—too—— Oh! It +is impossible!” + +“Nothing is impossible,” commented Lance O’Leary gravely. “But those +lights may have belonged to another car. One driven by Jim Gainsay.” + +I may have imagined it, but it seemed to me, in view of my guilty +knowledge of that cigarette case, that he eyed me rather closely as he +spoke. However, if so he gained nothing by it, for I was honestly +surprised. + +“Jim Gainsay!” I cried. + +“Yes,” he answered, going on to explain. “The sedan owned by Dr. +Letheny was seen standing in front of the Western Union office at +about two o’clock that night. This information was brought to my ears +and upon investigation I found that Gainsay took the Doctor’s +car—Huldah, in fact, saw him leave—and drove into the city, starting +shortly before the storm began. He sent a message, of which I shall +have a copy before the day is over. We also know that Gainsay frankly +said he intended to get hold of fifty thousand dollars—wasn’t it +that?” I nodded dumbly and he went on. “And he intended to go to New +York this morning but is still here, work or no work. Also, as with +the others, he knew something of the circumstances, and while his +being able to obtain and administer morphine is a point to consider, +still I understand that engineers almost have to have a practical +working knowledge of medicine. But even if we could safely exonerate +him from causing Jackson’s death there is still the death of Dr. +Letheny, for which somebody is responsible. And this Gainsay is a +strong young fellow who looks as if he would stick at little.” + +“But he looks honest, too,” I protested. + +“They all look honest. Everyone of you.” + +“It seems terrible to consider people one knows in such a sordid +connection. Why not all the other people in and around the hospital?” + +He looked at me as if he were amused. + +“But, Miss Keate, is it possible that you do not know that we +immediately accounted for every soul in St. Ann’s? And that every +nurse and every patient has a perfect alibi, save you and Miss Day, +Dr. Balman and Dr. Hajek? In a hospital run with such efficient +routine as this one, it is a simple matter. The only person besides +those I have mentioned, for whom we can’t be absolutely certain, is +Higgins, and that because he sleeps in the basement next to the +furnace room and no one saw or heard of him during that night, since +no one else sleeps in the basement. Of course, we shall have to +include him in our list of suspects, but so far there is nothing but +opportunity with which to suspect him.” + +“Then Maida and I are the only nurses who cannot prove just where we +were between twelve-thirty and two o’clock that night?” I asked +uneasily. + +“We know _where_ you were,” said Lance O’Leary very soberly. “You were +both in the south wing.” He paused to look at his watch, a thin, +platinum affair that reposed in a pocket of his impeccable vest, and I +felt a quite warranted chill creep up my back. + +“So you see our paths of search are limited,” he said easily, +replacing the watch, and returning to that abominable red pencil. + +“Yes,” I agreed weakly. “Limited.” Altogether too limited! + +“Of course, there is always what I spoke of as the unknown element. +There might have been an outside intruder, but so far nothing has come +to light that would indicate that possibility. The use of the radium +seems to have been absolutely unknown to all but the hospital staff +and the guests at Miss Letheny’s dinner party. Now then, Miss Keate, +there are three things that particularly interest me to-day. One of +them is the identity of the man with whom you collided at the corner +of the porch. Did you receive any sort of impression that would serve +to identify him?” + +Nervously I tried to think of something besides the cigarette case. + +“He—I think he wore a raincoat. I seem to remember the slippery +feeling of rubber. And I think he must have been wearing a +dinner-jacket, for I seem to recall feeling his starched shirt front.” + +“Then it might have been one of the four men at Corole Letheny’s +dinner?” + +“It might have been, of course,” I spoke rather irritably, as I +foresaw the next questions. + +“Was it Dr. Letheny?” + +“I don’t think so. I can’t be sure.” + +He was surveying me so closely that I found my eyes going toward the +floor in spite of myself. + +“Was it Dr. Balman?” + +“It might have been. Though it seemed he was a little taller than Dr. +Balman.” I was studying the roses on the old-fashioned Brussels. + +“Was it Dr. Hajek?” he went on mercilessly. + +“I—I tell you, I can’t be sure who it was. It might have been +anybody.” + +He leaned back in his chair and I could feel his smile. + +“I’m beginning to understand your—er—temperament,” he said easily. “I +suppose it was this Jim Gainsay. Now you may as well tell me what you +were doing with his cigarette case in your laundry bag.” + +I blinked. + +“How did you know it was there?” + +“A policeman found it while searching your room.” + +“Searching my room!” + +“Yes. We have had all the personal belongings of those in whom we +are—interested—searched. We were at first surprised to find you were +addicted to smoking——and more surprised when we traced its ownership. +Now, please, tell me just how you came upon it.” + +In as few words as possible I complied. + +“Will you hold Jim Gainsay?” I asked finally, as he turned and twisted +the stubby red pencil thoughtfully in his hands. + +“We shall watch him,” he amended. “So far he has stayed of his own +free will, a thing that is in itself strange. Of course, if he should +attempt to leave I should be forced to restrain him.” + +The dinner bell rang just then and he looked at his watch, again +frowning as he noted the time. + +“Another thing, Miss Keate. That smell of ether interests me. +Especially since to our knowledge ether was not used at all. Are you +sure?” + +“Yes.” I spoke decidedly. “I am sure now, because of the slicker I +wore yesterday afternoon.” + +“The slicker?” he inquired. “Yesterday afternoon?” And listened +intently while I explained the whole thing. + +“And you had no means of identifying it?” he asked, presently. + +“No. Everybody wears a yellow slicker. You know how popular they have +been the last year or two.” + +He nodded. + +“I wear one myself,” he said. “Well, thanks a lot, Miss Keate. You are +a present help in time of trouble.” He smiled at me with that +engagingly warm and youthful look. + +I started toward the hall, paused and turned around. + +“Didn’t you say there were three things you were particularly +interested in right now?” I said. “What is the third one?” + +“Oh, yes.” He studied me for a moment as if to see how far the +discretion with which he had complimented me might be trusted. Then he +drew something from his pocket—something so small that it was hidden +in his hand until he held it toward me. + +And when I looked, I cried out and shrank back, my heart leaping to my +throat. There on his outstretched palm lay a small cuff link; it was a +neat square of lapis lazuli, set in engraved white gold. + +“I see that you recognize it?” + +Speechlessly, I made a motion of assent. + +“You need not tell me that it is Miss Day’s. I already know that. One +or two of the nurses recognized it as I left it casually on the table +in the general office. Oh, I watched it carefully—I suppose they +thought she had lost it. They did not know where it was found.” + +“Where it was found——” I repeated, huskily, my voice losing itself +somewhere in my throat. + +“It was found—in Dr. Letheny’s pocket.” He spoke very deliberately, +his clear, gray eyes searching mine. Then he turned. “Good-night, Miss +Keate,” he said courteously and was gone. + +As for me, I stood there quite still, staring at the gathering +darkness outside the window, and at the slow rivulets of moisture +trickling down the glass. Finally I aroused myself, straightened my +cap, and moved toward the door. I was late for dinner, of course, and +remember that someone was complaining about the steak being burned. It +might have been ashes so far as I was concerned. Once I stole a look +at Maida, across from me and down the table a few places. She was very +white and tired-looking and it seemed to me that she avoided my eyes. +I felt rather sick as I noted that, though it was a chilly day, she +was wearing a uniform with short sleeves that had no need of cuff +links. + + + +CHAPTER 6 + +I Make a Discovery—and Regret It + +I must admit that I went about my duties somewhat automatically that +night and could not help keeping an eye on Maida, not from suspicion, +you understand, but simply because the matters of recent development +troubled me considerably. Indeed, I had plenty to think of that night. + +Corole’s dinner party, followed by its terrifying sequel, had taken +place on Thursday night. Early Friday afternoon the body of Dr. +Letheny had been found. Friday night we had taken second watch with +the policeman tipped against the sinister door of Room 18, and +Saturday was the day just past. It was while I was sitting at the +chart desk during second watch of Saturday night—really early Sunday +morning—that the amazing idea occurred to me. I had been staring at +the charts, absorbed in the baffling problems those days had brought, +when all at once I began thinking of the morphine. + +Might it not prove something if we were to discover where that +morphine had come from? Morphine is not something that one carries +about in a pocket or vanity bag; it is very difficult to secure and in +St. Ann’s a most rigid check is kept on the quantities of the drug +used. Would the morphine record for that week in the south wing +balance? + +With the thought I was up on my feet and starting toward the drug +room. As I passed the door of the diet kitchen I saw Maida standing at +the open window. Why do women bother with silks and laces and jewels +when there is nothing that so sets off beauty as the severe, white +simplicity of the nurse’s uniform? Maida’s face was like a proud young +flower above the white collar of her tailored uniform. The stiff white +cap perched piquantly on top of her head and contrasted nicely with +her soft black hair. Her eyes were a deeper blue, her clear, gardenia +skin and soft crimson lips were still lovelier above that plain white +dress. I sighed, glanced down the corridor to see that there were no +signal lights, and slipped into the drug room, closing the door. + +A dose of morphine is a simple matter to prepare; it is the +administering that requires skill. The preparation is a mere mixture +of sterile water with the white morphine tablet, in the amount +prescribed. At St. Ann’s there is a careful check of the amounts used, +and the drug room record must check with the doctors’ orders. It was a +simple matter for me to compare the two records with the remaining +supply of morphine. And it was with a heart that dropped to my shoes +that I found they emphatically did not check. And that the amount of +discrepancy was more than enough to drug a person far more heavily +than was safe. + +When had this disappeared and how? A young, strong man might survive +such a dose, or one accustomed to taking the drug. But an old man, +whose heart reaction would be slow—well, it seemed all too apparent +that the morphine that had killed Jackson might have come from our own +south wing drug room. It was not a pleasant possibility. + +Maida was still in the kitchen when I passed it again and I stopped. +She was washing her slim, pink fingers vigorously. + +“Eleven does get hungry at the most erratic times. He wants beef tea +now and an hour ago he had malted milk,” she said, drying her hands. + +“Mr. Gainsay did not leave Friday after all,” I said, coming directly +to one of the things that troubled me. + +She glanced swiftly toward me, lifted her straight black eyebrows a +little, and spoke rather coolly. + +“Evidently not. He said his boat did not sail till next week. Is this +beef extract fresh?” + +“I think so. I suppose he is quite a comfort to Corole.” + +“Corole needs friends at a time like this,” said Maida. + +“Of course, he was such a good friend of Dr.—Letheny.” For the life of +me I could not speak that name naturally and easily. + +“Yes,” agreed Maida briefly. She turned to the stove, lit the gas +flame, and held a small saucepan of water over the blue points of +fire. I could not see her face. + +“Maida,” I said abruptly, “when did you last see Dr. Letheny—alive?” + +She whirled toward me at that, and—well, it was not nice to stand +there and see her face turn a dreadful, slow white with bluish hollows +around her mouth and nose. But she answered at length, quite clearly: + +“I last saw him at Corole’s dinner party. When we said good-night and +left.” + +She looked into my eyes for a moment after she ceased to speak, almost +as if she were daring me to deny her statement. And I knew that it +could not be true. Else how could her lapis cuff link have got out of +the snowy cuff in which I had seen her place it _after_ we were safely +within the walls of St. Ann’s, and into Dr. Letheny’s pocket? + +“Oh—Sarah,” she cried suddenly, throwing out her hands toward me in a +gesture that was like an appeal and with a half sob in her voice. But +as suddenly she drew her hands sharply backward and turned again to +the stove. To this day the salty, meaty smell of beef boiling always +brings to me a vision of those shining, white-tiled walls and the +enamelled gas stove and Maida’s straight, white-clad shoulders and +beautiful, troubled face. + +“Tell me,” I said at last. “Is there anything you know that might help +solve this mystery?” + +But Maida turned an unfathomable blue gaze toward me. + +“Nothing. Nothing that would help.” + +And it was not until she had departed with the beef tea steaming hot +on a tray that I noted her ambiguous wording. + +I could not disguise to myself the fact that I was deeply alarmed. +Particularly because I had caught her, and wished I had not, in a +deliberate lie. Either that or that abominable cuff link had simply +jumped itself out of her cuff and into the pocket of Dr. Letheny’s +immaculate dinner coat. + +I shall not conceal the fact that I gave voice to several expletives +that made up in fervour for what they lacked in content. And I had +learned quite a vocabulary from my parrot, a nice bird who died last +year on his ninety-sixth birthday, unless the dealer lied, and was +much mourned by those of the nurses whose rooms are at the far end of +the dormitory. Owing to the night air making the dear bird talkative +there was a sort of feeling against him among the rooms within hearing +distance of my own. + +However, in this case the utmost of his vocabulary did not relieve my +feelings. + +All went as well as might be expected, and we did not once need a +policeman, so it was as well that he had been withdrawn. Of course, +I’m not saying it was a pleasant watch, for it was not. The south end +of the corridor seemed darker than any other portion of it and the +sinister door of Eighteen was somehow black and menacing and +altogether unpleasant. But on the whole the night passed quietly, +which was a mercy, for that was the last night that we pinned on our +caps with any assurance of how long they would stay there. Dawn came +at last, cold and gray, and with it the slow melancholy sound of the +five o’clock bell for early prayers. The north wing of St. Ann’s ends +in a small chapel that is dignified with age and has a pipe organ, +high walnut pews, and old, stained-glass windows. It is open on week +days for prayer and meditation and on Sundays the young assistant +rector from St. B—’s down in the city comes to St. Ann’s to conduct +prayers and confession and church. + +The Sunday then dawning was destined to remain long in my memory as a +sort of interlude between what had been and what was to follow. + +In the first place, Morgue, the basement cat, who is thin and +ill-tempered and kept for utilitarian purposes only, surprised us all +by having three healthy kittens. For some years the assumption had +been that this was a feat biologically impossible and the news, +brought to the table by a student nurse who had actually seen the +kittens, caused quite a stir and for a moment distracted our minds +from the too-absorbing problems of the last few days. + +There were some disbelievers at table, this despite the student nurse +appearing to clinch the matter by quoting Higgins’s opinion that +Morgue had displayed considerable talent in this connection, and after +breakfast we all trooped down to the furnace room to see with our own +eyes. + +Higgins was down there, fussing around a grape basket which he had +lined with an old duster, which, by the way, made the baby cats smell +quite distinctly of cedar oil and must have puzzled their proud and +complacent mother. The kittens themselves were not much to boast of, +resembling, indeed, very young and scrawny rats and squirming +vigorously and squealing when the girls picked them up and passed them +from one to the other. There was a heated discussion over their names; +it was felt they should bear some relation to the mother’s name, and +Morgue is not an easy name with which to relate. They settled on +Accident, Appendicitis, and Ambulance. The kittens were all black, to +my mind not a particularly happy or propitious colour, and Melvina +Smith, who is pale and superstitious and would not touch an opal with +a ten-foot rod, exclaimed in italics that trouble was coming to St. +Ann’s. Upon which someone murmured that trouble had already come and +Melvina said, yes, but it always came in Threes and these three black +cats were a sure sign that bad luck would come in threes here. She +pointed out, reasonably enough, that Morgue could as well have had +four kittens, or two, but no, she had had three. And that furthermore, +who ever heard of Morgue having kittens before, and it was certain she +had had them this time just to warn us of the third—er—trouble. + +Well, for my part, I felt that Morgue would not go to so much bother, +she being by nature unobliging and apt to mistrust our most friendly +advances. But already the girls were putting the kittens in the basket +and casting rather frightened glances into Morgue’s inscrutable yellow +eyes, and drifting toward the stairway. I could have wrung Melvina’s +foolish little neck, but naturally I followed them. + +On the way upstairs Olma Flynn remarked earnestly that it was nice +that Morgue hadn’t had ten kittens. Upon which several of the less +idiotic laughed and Melvina cast a look of pale reproach upon Olma, +who, as a matter of fact, had spoken with single-minded gratitude. + +As I reached the top of the stairs Higgins called to me. + +“Miss Keate.” + +I turned. He was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up. + +“Yes.” + +“Can you spare some time now, Miss Keate? There was—something I wanted +to—ask you about.” + +I hesitated. It seems to me that when anyone around St. Ann’s has a +complaint it is brought to my ears and I was in no mood that morning +to listen to complaints. + +“I was just going to get some sleep, Higgins,” I said. “Will another +time do?” + +How often, since then, I have wished that I had stopped then and +there. But I thought of nothing more important than leaky gutterpipes +or the canna bulbs not doing well. + +“Well—yes,” agreed Higgins slowly. Something in his tone made me +regard him sharply, thinking that he seemed quite reluctant and +perplexed. However, as I say, I was tired and sleepy and had already +more than enough problems before me, so I took my way upstairs. + +On the way I picked up the Sunday paper. The supplement had the +hospital pictures again, groups of nurses, a sort of history of St. +Ann’s, stressing its long years of service but winding up with a lurid +résumé of the past few days, which is the way of Sunday supplements +but not unpleasant. I even found a picture of myself taken some years +ago when pompadours and bosoms were in style. It was not a flattering +picture and neither was the caption below it, which described me as +one of St. Ann’s oldest nurses! Oldest in point of service, it went on +to say tactfully, but the picture dated me indisputably and I flung +the paper in the waste basket and tried to compose myself to sleep. +And, I might add, did not succeed. + +I found the noon service in the little chapel remarkably well +attended, with prayer books in evidence and the nurses turning out _en +masse_. The young rector preached a rather nice sermon about “Be ye +not afraid,” which I considered a little too apropos for comfort and +good taste. + +Sunday is usually a rather festive day in St. Ann’s but that Sunday +was anything but pleasant. No visitors were permitted, which made the +patients fretful and hard to please. Moreover, we could not prevent an +almost constant stream of morbidly inclined sight-seers whose +automobiles splashed along the muddy road in front of the hospital, +and who stared through the fog and pointed with melancholy +satisfaction. + +I drifted uneasily about the dismal corridors for some time before I +found Maida, ensconced unhappily in a cold window seat with a magazine +which she was holding upside down. + +She had not been to see Corole yet, she told me, and was dreading the +visit that convention demanded. Wouldn’t I go with her? And though I +had no relish for Corole’s company I found myself following the blue +and scarlet of Maida’s nurse’s cape along that sodden, desolate path, +holding my own cape tight around me and wishing I had brought an +umbrella. + +On the porch we met Dr. Hajek, just leaving. + +“Bad weather,” he murmured as we passed him. His dark eyes slanted +knowingly toward us; his face was very fresh and ruddy and his square +teeth gleamed under that small black moustache. + +Huldah opened the door, her cap very properly on her head this time +but her face sullen. + +We found Corole comfortably seated in what had been Dr. Letheny’s +study, a warm fire glowing in the grate and the tea cart drawn up to +the davenport and laden with her best silver tea service and some +fascinating little French pastries that could only have come from +Pierre’s, a very exclusive and high-priced sweet shop. I registered +the impression that Corole was not wasting any time enjoying her newly +augmented income, and gave my cape to Huldah. Corole and Maida were +murmuring polite sentences and, recalling my promise to O’Leary, I +followed Huldah to the hall. + +“Miss Letheny feeling any better, Huldah?” I asked. + +She gave me an expressive glance. + +“H’m!” she grunted. “There’s not much mourning going on in this house! +She—” she jerked her head toward the study—“dresses all up like a +hussy every day and entertains callers. You know as well as I do that +ain’t any way for a lady to do!” + +“I noticed she was wearing that green silk thing with her bronze +slippers the other day,” I remarked tentatively. + +“She won’t wear them bronze pumps again, anyhow,” said Huldah in dour +satisfaction. “She had to wear them out in the rain and now they are +ruined.” + +“Had to wear them out in the rain?” + +“Yes, ma’am! The very afternoon we heard the bad news. Not an hour +after them gentlemen was at the house to tell her about the doctor +being dead. Nice gentlemen they was, too—them police officers.” She +stopped, apparently musing on certain blue-coated figures. I had to +prod her gently. + +“Where was she going in such a hurry that she didn’t change her +shoes?” + +“Goodness knows! As soon as they had gone she grabbed a shawl and ran +out the back door and across the alfalfa field. The last I saw she was +scooting into the apple orchard and she didn’t get back for a full +hour. It was raining, too, and she might have taken an umbrella at +least. But not she! Catch her doing anything like a Christian!” +concluded Huldah resentfully. + +“Would you like some tea, miss?” she went on, after a moment’s +brooding. “Some tea and one of my own cakes I made myself yesterday +before she ordered them silly French things? Like as not poison, too, +with all such coloured candies on top.” + +“Indeed, I should, Huldah,” I said soothingly, though her cakes are, +as a rule, sprinkled too liberally with caraway seeds. “And let me +have a small anchovy sandwich,” I added, thereby winning her to a +reluctant smile as she departed kitchenward. + +I was not much wiser than I had been, and I really could not see that +I could have questioned Huldah any further. Anyway it was likely she +had told me all she knew, for Huldah’s natural disposition is to +spread anything she hears. + +I joined the other two in the study in time to catch a strained +something in the atmosphere that made me pause involuntarily and look +from one to the other. Maida was standing very stiff and straight, her +eyes flaming like blue fire, her fingers clutched together until the +knuckles and fingernails were white, and her whole attitude breathing +defiance and anger and—yes, alarm. Corole was lying gracefully back in +her chair, her creamy lace teagown falling softly away from her brown +neck, the topaz on one hand catching light from the fire, and her +strange eyes narrowed lazily in an expression so like Morgue’s that I +almost gasped. + +But as to that, resemblance to a cat or other animal is nothing to +hold against a person, I argued reasonably to myself; there is a +cashier in the City National who looks like nothing so much as a mild +and woolly sheep and is yet, as far as I know, an upright and +respectable man. + +Neither Maida nor Corole seemed inclined to break that brittle +silence, so I settled wearily into a chair. + +“Huldah seems to resent the French pastries,” I said. “Where did you +get them, Corole? At Pierre’s?” + +“She resents everything,” said Corole indolently. “Yes. At Pierre’s. +You must try them. I’ll make some fresh tea. Do sit down, Maida. You +make me nervous, standing there so stiff.” + +I think Maida was about to say something, but just then Jim Gainsay +lounged into the room, straightened up with interest when he saw +Maida, and she subsided into a chair while he greeted us with every +evidence of pleasure. + +It was, however, a very uncomfortable hour, with the conversation +painfully limited to commonplaces, Jim trying in vain to catch Maida’s +eyes, and Huldah slapping down the tea things with venom and making it +distressingly clear that I, alone of the company, was in her good +graces. Corole was almost indecently easy and flippant in her manner, +and Maida very quiet. + +As for me, I was reminded vividly of the last time we had been +together in that room, especially after Dr. Balman arrived. His coming +made the gathering begin to seem too much like a party, so I prepared +to leave. But Dr. Balman had come on business, and after speaking in a +low aside to Corole he went to Dr. Letheny’s desk, glanced hastily +through a card index, and noted something in his small notebook. I +remember thinking as he did so that Dr. Balman was not having an easy +time of it; it is difficult enough to step suddenly into the position +of head of a hospital, without having the burden of investigations +into two murders on one’s hands. And Dr. Balman looked as if he were +feeling the strain of his duties, for his mild eyes had circles under +them, his scant eyebrows wore a perplexed frown, and his pale cheeks +were hollow. He looked as if he had not been eating much lately, and +indeed, I didn’t wonder at it. The bruise on his cheek had not +received proper attention, for it was dark and ugly-looking and I +longed to take it in hand. + +“Is that what you wanted, Dr. Balman?” asked Corole. + +“Yes—yes. This is all.” He was writing busily. + +“You must have some tea,” offered Corole graciously. + +“What?— Oh, tea?” Dr. Balman compared the notes he had written with +the original and raised his eyes to glance about the room with rather +obvious distaste. He was always a man of keen sensibility and I +daresay he felt much as I had felt on entering this room that spoke so +clearly of Dr. Letheny. + +He was about to decline, I think, when Huldah opened the door, said +“Mr. O’Leary,” as if she were firing a shotgun, and Lance O’Leary +entered, his gray eyes twinkling a little at the manner of his +announcement. + +It was odd to see how the appearance of this slight, perfectly groomed +young man, with his clear, gray eyes and thoughtful, well-shaven face, +affected us all. Dr. Balman sat down slowly as if after all he had +decided to stay. Jim Gainsay fastened a narrow, enigmatic look upon +the newcomer and lit another cigarette, Maida’s eyes widened a little +and her hands sought each other in her white lap—and Corole adjusted +the lace of her gown, smiled seductively at O’Leary, remembered she +was mourning and sobered wistfully. + +“No, thanks,” said O’Leary pleasantly. “No tea, Miss Letheny. I hope +you’ll forgive my intrusion but I came on business.” + +Corole blinked but repeated warmly: “Business?” and motioned toward a +chair. + +“Yes. Thanks, yes, I’ll sit down.” He drew a chair nearer the glowing +fire. “It’s wet out,” he remarked with a half smile. + +“Would you like something besides tea?” asked Corole, her graceful +brown hand on the tiny silver bell that decorated the tea cart. I +could not help noting how pink her palm was, how brown her fingers, +and how purple the shadows on the fingernails. + +“No. No.” The high-backed chair O’Leary had happened to choose, +upholstered in needlepoint tapestry, and with slim carved arms of +softly gleaming walnut, added somehow to his natural dignity. “How are +you, Doctor? Not feeling this strain too much, I hope.” + +Dr. Balman smiled wanly. “No, thanks, Mr. O’Leary. It is quite a task +though. However, Dr.—Dr. Letheny left everything in perfect order.” He +glanced at Corole apologetically as he spoke, but she was interested +only in O’Leary. + +The conversation dragged along very uncomfortably for a few moments, +during which the only person in the room who was thoroughly at ease +was Lance O’Leary. As soon as I decently could I rose to leave, for +O’Leary had said he came on business and I naturally supposed that it +was business with Corole. + +Maida rose, too, and of course, the men. + +“Just a second, Miss Keate,” remarked O’Leary in a quiet and +commonplace voice. “I only wanted to tell you all that the coroner’s +inquest will be to-morrow morning and that you are all to be called as +witnesses. I’m sorry to have to tell you at such a time.” + +It just happened that I had my eyes on Corole as he spoke and thus saw +her soft brown fingers grip the macaroon she held until it fell on the +tea cart, a small, powdered mound of sugar. I looked quickly at +O’Leary, but his gaze was apparently on the log in the fireplace. + +It was an uncomfortable moment, there in that room of which the very +books along the wall and the grand piano in the alcove spoke so +vividly of Dr. Letheny. We were “all” to be called as witnesses then. +And a few nights ago we had sat here in this room and listened to the +Prelude in C Sharp Minor played by those strong white hands that would +never touch a piano again. + +I shook myself free from such morbid reflections, said a brusque +good-bye to Corole, and left. Maida went with me, and somewhere along +the path Jim Gainsay turned up. + +As the path narrowed under the trees and I preceded the other two, I +am sure I heard Jim Gainsay say rather huskily to Maida: + +“I had to see you alone. You must do as I say. It is import——” + +“Sh! I know!” + +“Try to see it my way.” (This in a still more urgent voice.) “It is +dangerous to——” + +“Hush!” she interrupted sharply again. + +And just then I think that Maida stumbled over a branch that had blown +across the path. At any rate I heard a quick motion and a sort of gasp +and then Maida said rather breathlessly: “That branch—I nearly fell.” +And I turned in time to see Jim Gainsay pick up the stick, bow to it +gravely and say: “Thank you, old fellow,” before he tossed it off into +the orchard. At which Maida turned quite pink and Jim Gainsay gave her +a long look and laughed rather shakily. + +Then we were at the south entrance and Gainsay swung on his heel with +a brief “Good-night.” + +And it was not fifteen minutes later that I glanced through the +society section of the paper that someone had left on the chart desk, +and my eyes fell on a small news item: + + Mrs. J. C. Allen left Tuesday of this week for New York City. She + sailed on the _Tuscania_, Saturday night, June ninth. + +On the _Tuscania_, Saturday, June ninth. That was yesterday. And I was +positive that Gainsay had said the _Tuscania_. + + + +CHAPTER 7 + +The Disappearing Key and Part of an Inquest + +“Yes, I saw that this morning,” said a quiet voice beside me. It was +Lance O’Leary; I did not know he was near until he spoke. “Our friend +Mr. Gainsay seems to be a little confused as to his dates.” + +I daresay my eyes reflected a question for he added, leisurely: + +“He told me that he intended to sail on the _Tuscania_ next week. I +see that he told you the same thing. He is not a very discreet young +man, else he’d have known that I should look up the _Tuscania’s_ +sailing date without delay.” + +I sighed; all those unpleasant little doubts of Jim Gainsay were +returning in full force. + +“If he has the radium, it is not in his room in the Letheny cottage,” +said O’Leary meditatively. + +“How do you know?” I inquired stupidly. + +“We have searched the rooms and personal belongings of each of those +present at that dinner party last Thursday night.” + +“What!” + +“In fact, I daresay that there is not a room in the whole of St. +Ann’s, as well as in the Letheny cottage, that has not been thoroughly +ransacked.” + +I ran my tongue over dry lips. This was getting down to work with a +vengeance. + +“Why?” I stammered. + +There was a glimmer of impatience in his eyes. + +“For the radium, of course. Surely you did not think we were going to +let it get away from us without a struggle.” + +There was a moment or two of silence during which I studied the +polished glass surface of the desk before me without seeing it. + +“Did you ask Huldah about Miss Letheny’s errand through the rain last +Friday afternoon?” inquired O’Leary after a contemplative pause. + +“Yes.” I told him in a few words the little that Huldah had told me. +“And there is something else I have discovered,” I went on miserably. +“I’ve got to tell you, though I must say I do not want to do so. It +is—that morphine. The morphine that killed Mr. Jackson, you know. I—I +know where it came from!” + +“You—what!” O’Leary was for once startled out of his usual composure. + +“I know where it came from,” I repeated reluctantly. “At least, I +think that I do. You see,—there is morphine missing from our south +wing drug supply.” + +I had to tell him the whole thing, of course, under his searching +questions and no less searching gaze, and even explain our system of +keeping account of the drugs. He had to see the drug room and the +charts and the records for himself. It was while I was showing him the +drawer in which the morphine was kept, that I made my regrettable slip +about the hypodermic syringe. + +I had started to show him how the needles were fitted into the small +mechanism, and I reached for a hypodermic syringe. It turned out to be +my own. + +“This one is mine,” I said thoughtlessly, fitting the slim, hollow +needle into the tiny instrument. “The other one that we were using +disapp——” I stopped so suddenly that my breath came out in an +explosive little pop and O’Leary’s face hardened slightly. It was an +expression that I was growing to recognize. + +“You may as well finish. So the other one ‘disapp’-eared, did it? When +and how? Whose was it? There is still one in the drawer. What about +the one that disappeared?” + +“I don’t know,” I said flatly. “Then, you see, we take the sterile +water and measure the liquid into——” + +O’Leary looked at his watch. + +“I haven’t much time,” he said pleasantly. “But I have enough time to +wait right here until you tell me about the hypodermic syringe that +disappeared. Or if necessary I can dog your footsteps the rest of the +night, reiterating my question at frequent and embarrassing intervals. +Of course, I can have the whole hospital searched extensively and +every hypodermic needle accounted for, especially if missing. I can +follow you to your meal—isn’t that the bell?—and keep on asking you.” +He added meditatively: “I suppose it might cause considerable interest +among the other nurses.” + +I regarded him furiously. The thing was that he would be quite capable +of doing just that. I began to understand the force of the words of +the chief of police when he had said—“Once Lance O’Leary gets his +teeth into anything, it is as good as done.” + +“I suppose you’ll have to know sometime, anyway,” I said sulkily. + +The flicker in his gray eyes was like a ripple across a very calm, +deep lake. + +“You are right, Miss Keate. So why not tell me now?” + +Well, to make a long story short, I told him of the missing +hypodermic, which after all, was little enough: barely the fact that +Maida’s syringe had been removed and my own substituted, but this +without my knowledge. And that Maida had had the opportunity to take +my own, and if she had wished to use it, all that she needed to do was +ask me for it. + +“Which she conspicuously did not do,” commented O’Leary. “Oh, by the +way, Miss Keate, have you ever attended an inquest?” + +“No.” + +“Well, don’t get bothered. Our coroner is a decent old fellow but he +does love to be pompous. Just answer what he asks, tell your story as +briefly as possible and don’t—er—volunteer anything. You see there are +some things that you and I know that will not come up at the inquest.” + +“You mean—they would warn the guilty one?” + +He nodded briefly as he turned away. + +Maida was already in the south wing when I rounded the right angle of +the corridor leading from the main office, at exactly twelve o’clock +that night. + +“I locked the south door,” she said, hanging the key on its customary +nail above the desk. + +“That was right,” I approved, glancing over the charts. It appeared +that Eleven’s digestive apparatus was still doing business at the old +stand, so to speak, but otherwise all was well and I settled briskly +into the business of second watch. + +Midnight temperatures had scarcely been taken, however, when Olma +Flynn developed a sick headache, worse when I was within hearing +distance, and had to be excused from duty. We didn’t actually need the +extra help, as Maida and I had been accustomed to care for the whole +wing ourselves, but nevertheless it was a little annoying, especially +as, about two o’clock, the little student nurse burned her wrist over +the gas flame in the diet kitchen, and the burn had to be salved +extensively and the nurse sent to bed with an aspirin tablet. + +Thus Maida and I found ourselves alone in the south wing for the first +time since those terrifying events of Thursday night. This precarious +situation was a matter that was, I think, predominant in our thoughts +but neither of us mentioned it; we even manufactured an artificial +sort of—not gaiety, that would be asking too much—but of brisk +attention to work and a determined avoidance of conversation that +might lead back to things we were anxious to forget. + +All went well, in spite of our hidden fears, until about three +o’clock. I was pouring out a small dose of bromide for Three, who had +made up her mind not to sleep that night and naturally was not doing +so, when Maida opened the door of the drug room. + +Her face was so ghastly white that at first glimpse of it my hand +began to tremble and the medicine poured all over the spoon. Blindly I +set the bottle down. + +“What is it?” + +“There’s something in Room 18!” she gasped through ashy lips. + +“Room 18!” + +“Just now—I saw something go into that room from the corridor!” + +“Someone—is sleep-walking.” I grasped at the first rationality that +presented itself. + +After the light in the diet kitchen the long corridor seemed +peculiarly dark and shadowy and the green light over the chart desk +was miles away. It never occurred to me to call for help, and we sped +along toward that dark end of the wing that we had good cause to fear. + +But we stopped stock still as we came close enough to see the door of +Room 18, and a cold shiver crept up from my back. + +The door of Room 18 was standing wide open! + +It had not been opened, so far as I knew, since the police had left +that room. It had been shunned by all the nurses. Who had opened it? +Who would dare open it? + +Who was inside that dark place? + +A long, shuddering sigh came from Maida beside me and I felt her cold +hand grip my wrist. The contact nerved me and I did what, I afterward +realized, was a very foolish thing. + +I took a few steps forward, advanced to the very door of that grisly +room, reached a shaking arm through the open doorway, groped for the +electric-light button, found and pressed it. + +The cold white dome on the ceiling flooded the room with light. + +There was nothing out of the way to be seen. There were the plain +dresser, the bedside table, two chairs, the folded burlap screen and +the high, narrow bed—nothing else. Something caught in my throat as I +glanced at the bed and toward the closet doors. + +“The—closet——” breathed Maida at my side. “Oh! You are not going to +open that!” as I took a more decisive step forward. + +It was no easy thing to do, for I knew well that those shallow closets +were yet large enough to hold—what one of them had held. + +They were both unlocked this time. And there was nothing in them! + +I turned to Maida, whose white face had been beside me during the +ordeal. Without saying a word we retreated to the corridor. + +“Are you sure you saw something?” I asked, my voice hoarse. + +“I am positive,” whispered Maida. “You see, I was just answering +Fourteen’s light, which brought me fairly near to Eighteen. I came out +the door and was starting down toward the chart desk when something—I +don’t know what—some rustle or sound, perhaps, made me turn around, +facing this way, so I could see the south door. And I was just in time +to see a sort of movement at the door of Eighteen.” Her hands went to +her throat as she spoke and I did not feel very comfortable myself. + +“It couldn’t have been one of the patients?” I murmured. + +“No! There isn’t a one of them who is able to walk.” + +“Then who——” + +“Or—_what_——” said Maida. + +A remnant of common sense saved me, I think, from stark terror. I took +a firmer hold on my imagination. + +“Nonsense,” I spoke decidedly but still, for some reason, in a +whisper. “There are no such things as—as—— I mean to say, the shadow +you saw was either an optical illusion or a living, breathing person.” + +“Certainly,” agreed Maida, adding inconsistently: “I don’t see how a +living person could have got past us, through this long corridor +without one of us seeing him—_it_.” + +My eyes fell on the south door near at hand; the tiny panes of glass +winked blackly at me as I crossed to it, grasped the brass latch and +pulled. The door swung slowly open, letting in a current of cold, +mist-laden air. + +“There, you see?” I said to Maida. “Only a real, material thing needs +a door to go through.” + +Maida was looking at me strangely. + +“I don’t see that that helps matters any,” she said. “I locked that +door myself, to-night. It just proves that someone was actually here. +That the murderer is still about the hospital.” + +“Not necessarily,” I said, though my heart was pounding in my throat. +“You are sure you locked it?” + +“Positive.” + +“And you hung the key there on the nail above the chart desk?” + +“Yes.” + +We both swung hastily around. At the other end of the shadowy corridor +gleamed the green-shaded light over the desk. With one accord we +started toward it. + +The key was not on the nail above the desk! + +But even as our frightened gaze took in that amazing fact my eyes fell +on the glass top of the desk. There on its shining surface lay the +key. We stared at it for some time before our eyes met. Then I picked +up the key, my fingers seeming to shrink from the cold, clammy metal, +returned to the south door, locked it securely and put the key in my +pocket. + +And as I did so, a thought struck me. The person who had got into the +wing by means of the south door must also have got out again. He +couldn’t have gone through the corridor and south door for Maida was, +by that time, in the hall. + +The light was still glowing in Room 18, and I crossed the room, not +without a queer feeling in the region of my knees, as if they would +give way with me, without notice. Sure enough, the window was +unlocked; it was even open a fraction of an inch at the bottom, though +the screen, which has a spring snap, was closed. + +I pushed the window the rest of the way down, locked it, not without +an unpleasant impression that something was out in that gleaming +darkness back of the window pane watching my every move, turned off +the light, and closed the door again. Maida was standing in the +corridor and we walked slowly toward the more cheerful region of the +chart desk and diet kitchen. + +“I suppose,” she mused at length, “that someone could have taken the +key from the nail and returned it when we were in Room 18.” + +“But who? It would have to be someone in St. Ann’s. And that is +unthinkable.” + +“There are likely ways in and out of St. Ann’s,” she said finally, and +with that a signal clicked somewhere. I recalled Three who would be in +a tantrum by this time, and we separated. + +We were very busy for the rest of the night, and dawn was never so +welcome a sight. But during those slow hours I came to the conclusion +that there were only two things we knew without doubt. The key to the +south door had been removed from the nail and left on top of the chart +desk, and the sinister door of Room 18 had been opened and left open. + +Who had done this and why was a matter of conjecture, and I resolved +to say nothing of it save to Lance O’Leary. I should leave it to +O’Leary. + +Leave it to O’Leary! I had so far recovered from my fright that I +smiled faintly at the phrase, but I could have embraced the day nurses +when they came on duty, and the rattle of the dishes in the small, +rubber-tired dumbwaiter, as it came up with the breakfast trays, +sounded like music to my ears. + +On the way to the basement for breakfast, I had time for a word or two +with Maida. + +“We’ll say nothing about it, save to O’Leary,” I murmured in a low +voice and she nodded, just as Miss Dotty joined us with one of her +insufferably bright good-mornings. + +Miss Dotty keeps a book at her bedside, entitled _Every Day a Sunny +Day_, and memorizes verses from it. Her verse that morning was: + + If you’re lonely, sad and blue, + Keep smiling. + Luck will bring you someone true + Who understands and loves just you. + Keep smiling, + +which seemed not only inane but downright offensive, as coming from +one old maid to another. + + +The inquest was set for nine-thirty. We had an early operation and at +eight o’clock prompt I was tying Dr. Balman into his white apron and +hood and counting sponges in the operating room. The patient’s +appendix proving to be elusive, turning up, in fact, on entirely the +wrong side, the operation was more interesting than we had expected. +Dr. Balman looked haggard from fatigue and worry, his thin hair and +beard were dishevelled and his eyes were hollow, but his hands were +steady, if rather slow, and every last detail was thoroughly attended +to. + +The inquest was held in the nurses’ library in the basement. It is not +a cheerful room, particularly on wet, rainy mornings. It was chilly in +the place; the white-washed walls looked cold and bare, even the +medical books along the walls had none too happy titles. The linoleum +rug caught dismal highlights, the chairs borrowed from the dining room +were slippery and uncomfortable, and moisture dripped steadily down +the small windows. Someone had turned on the lights but they did not +improve matters. + +At a little table sat a stout, elderly gentleman, whom I had no +trouble identifying as the pompous coroner. He wore a pair of +nose-glasses attached to a button on his broad vest with an important +black ribbon. The board of directors were ranged near at hand, some of +them constituting the jury, which would have surprised me had I not +known the weight in politics and otherwise that some of those names +carried. + +Corole Letheny was there in a soft brown frock daringly tailored and +very short so that her silk-clad—er—ankles and so forth were much in +evidence; she wore a small green hat pulled low over her eyes and +carried a large and gorgeously beaded bag which made a spot of vivid +colour in that neutral gray room. Huldah, very stiff in her Sunday +black silk, sat beside her. + +A little way off among a group of nurses sat Maida, her beauty and the +distinctive air of breeding in the very lift of her chin making her +stand out from the others as if they were only the frame for a +picture. Jim Gainsay stood at the back of the room with a group of +reporters. He wore an air of ease that was a shade too deliberate; his +impenetrable eyes looked at nothing in particular but, I had no doubt, +missed not the smallest movement in the room. He was attractive, +clean, young, vigorous, but I could have wished him less +restrained—less poised—less wary. + +There were the staff doctors, of course, talking to Dr. Balman and Dr. +Hajek. I was interested to note that a bit of Dr. Hajek’s ruddy colour +had deserted him; he said little and his black eyes darted here and +there about the room, occasionally lingering upon Corole. Save for +those restless eyes he was as unmoved and stolid as was usual with +him. + +There were several policemen, too, Higgins, the cook and a few curious +student nurses sitting with Miss Dotty, who being something of a +simpleton took that occasion to shed a few tears, presumably for Dr. +Letheny. And there was O’Leary, of course, gray and quiet, sitting +near the coroner’s table. + +It being the one and only inquest I had ever attended (for which I am +truly thankful), I was not able to compare it with others and did not +know whether the undercurrent of excitement, the low whispers, the +white faces, the nervous little movements and darting glances here and +there, are typical of all inquests or peculiar to that one. + +All at once the coroner put down the papers he had been studying, took +off his nose glasses, and began to talk. I did not notice what he +said, for at the same moment O’Leary rose quietly and moved toward the +back of the room. As he passed me he dropped a small bit of folded +paper in my lap. Under the cover of my wide cuff I read the brief +message it contained. I read it again; it didn’t seem to make sense, +but of course, I was willing to obey the terse request. Just as I +slipped the paper into my pocket I heard my name being called and I +rose and walked to a chair indicated by the coroner. + +After convincing the coroner and the jury that I was actually Sarah +Keate, superintendent of the south wing and on duty the night of +Thursday, June seventh, I was allowed to proceed. + +It was not so difficult as I had feared it would be; I was allowed to +tell my story in a brief and straightforward manner. The only time I +became confused was when I got to the incident of the arrow-like +projectile that had whizzed over my shoulder while I stood for a +moment there on the little south porch. It was then, for the first +time since the night it occurred, that I recalled the trifling +incident, and I was already launched upon it and could not head off +the coroner’s questions. I caught a reproachful look from O’Leary but +had to continue; however, the coroner’s questions could prove nothing +for there was little I could tell of the matter. + +The coroner questioned me rather particularly, too, as to the man with +whom I collided, but I had expected this and gave guarded replies. He +also tried to make me identify the owner of the cigarette case which +lay there on the table before him, but I refused to commit myself +beyond telling how and when I found the thing. + +As I say, it was not difficult—that is, until I reached the actual +events leading to the crime. It was then that my voice faltered. + +“It was while I was sitting there at the chart desk, at exactly +one-thirty—I had just entered the time on a chart—that I heard a sort +of—bang. It sounded like a door closing.” I went on speaking with more +and more difficulty. “So I got up and walked along the corridor but +the south door was still open. Then I went back to the chart desk and +was there when the storm broke and I had to run to close the door and +the windows. When I went into Room 18 to close the window I found——” I +stuck and had to clear my throat.—“I found that the patient, Mr. +Jackson, was dead. The lights had gone out but a flash of lightning +lit the room and I felt for his pulse and knew that he was dead. I ran +to the diet kitchen, found a candle, and ran back to Eighteen. Miss +Day had been closing the windows in the wing and had just got to Room +18 when I returned with the candle. It was after we knew we could do +nothing for him that we found the radium had been stolen.” + +My testimony continued for some time after that, but I simply answered +the coroner’s questions as briefly as possible and volunteered +nothing, and presently resumed my seat, feeling that, with the one +exception, I had conducted myself creditably. + +Then Dr. Balman and Dr. Hajek were called in turn, to testify as to +the causes of death, first of Mr. Jackson’s, and later of Dr. +Letheny’s. They used technical terms, and told the methods of +determining the length of time each had been dead before discovery. It +was a difficult half hour for both of them, knowing Dr. Letheny as +they had, and they both looked quite exhausted when the coroner had +finished with them. Dr. Balman was frankly mopping his high forehead +and even Dr. Hajek’s stolidity was shaken, for his eyes darted +nervously about him and he retreated to the back of the room, where he +lit a cigarette with unsteady hands. + +Then Miss Maida Day was called and as she took the witness chair my +hands gripped each other and I watched her with strained attention. + +She testified very coolly, though. No, she had not seen Dr. Letheny +when he called to visit his patient at twelve-thirty. She had been +busy in one of the sick rooms. Yes, she had stepped out on the porch +for a breath of air. Yes, she had attended the dinner party given by +Miss Letheny. The coroner seemed to be supplied with all the topics of +conversation of that dinner and Maida agreed imperviously to every one +of them, even to the fact that she had said she wanted money. + +“I believe your words were ‘I’d give my very soul for money’?” +inquired the coroner nastily. + +“I think I did say something like that,” said Maida quietly, though a +tiny flush mounted to her cheeks. “Of course, I didn’t mean exactly +that. One often exaggerates one’s statements.” + +The coroner did not comment on that but looked expressively at the +jury. + +Then she corroborated, under his questions, every detail I had told of +our finding of the body of Mr. Jackson and of our subsequent actions. +He made his questions very searching and important indeed, and I felt +something between a fool and a liar during the process; I am not +accustomed to having my word doubted. + +“Miss Letheny answered the telephone, when I called for the doctor,” +Maida explained, “and said that she couldn’t rouse him, and when I +said we must have him immediately she went away from the telephone and +when she came back told me that he was not in the house and she didn’t +know where he had gone.” + +“Then you telephoned to Dr. Balman?” + +“Yes.” + +“Did he answer immediately?” + +“No. I think he must have been asleep. When he did answer I told him +simply of Mr. Jackson’s unexpected death and that we could not locate +Dr. Letheny.” + +“About how long was it until Dr. Balman arrived?” + +“I’m not sure. I was—agitated naturally. But I should say about +fifteen minutes.” + +“How was he dressed when he arrived?” + +“In—a dinner jacket, I think—and slicker. It was raining, you know.” + +“Miss Day, have you lately lost a cuff link?” asked the coroner, +without warning. + +I was watching Maida closely and saw the little flush that had been in +her face drain steadily away; her eyes darkened but did not falter in +their steadfast gaze. + +“Yes,” she replied quietly. + +“Is this it?” He placed a small object in her hand that I could not +see but had no doubt was the square of lapis. + +“It—seems to be,” she said, after a pause during which we others +scarcely breathed. “It resembles the one I lost.” + +“Do you think you can say that it is your cuff link?” asked the +coroner smoothly. + +“Why—yes. At least, it is identical with mine.” + +“Can you explain its presence in Dr. Letheny’s coat pocket when he was +found—dead?” + +“No,” said Maida steadily, her steel-blue eyes meeting the coroner’s +directly. + +“When did you discover its loss?” + +If possible, Maida went still whiter, and her nostrils took on a +pinched look. + +“Shortly after I had returned from the porch,” she said steadily +enough, but her eyes went to the back of the room for a brief instant. + +“How did this get into Dr. Letheny’s possession?” persisted the +coroner. + +“I do not know. I suppose I—dropped it. Lost it from my cuff, and Dr. +Letheny must have—found it.” + +“In the dark?” inquired the coroner suavely. + +Maida flushed again but her chin went higher. + +“I do not know.” + +He continued to question her at some length but with no success, and +finally he dismissed her, with a grudging “Thank you.” + +Corole Letheny was the next witness and I settled myself more +comfortably in my chair to listen. She was extremely self-possessed, +and sat down as gracefully as if she had been paying a call. She +looked rather nice, or would have, but for the clear beauty of the +face that had just preceded her. Maida’s immaculate uniform, her clear +white skin, her amazing blue eyes under their straight black eyebrows, +that little, aristocratic air which somehow always surrounded her, +made Corole seem a little tarnished, a little tawdry, a little +theatrical, in spite of her perfect grooming and her expensive +clothing. + +By that time the repetition of the details of that oft-referred-to +dinner party were growing stale and I did not pay the strictest +attention to the first questions of the coroner. I was aroused, +though, by hearing him say suavely: + +“You will pardon me, Miss Letheny, but were you and Dr. Letheny on the +best of terms?” + +She stared at him, her yellowish eyes widening and reflecting green +lights from her hat brim. + +“What do you mean?” + +“Following the departure of your guests that night, did you not have a +heated disagreement?” + +Her eyes slowly left the coroner and went to Huldah in an exceedingly +unpleasant gaze. + +“I suppose my maid told you that. Yes, we did quarrel. Louis—was not +an easy man to get along with.” + +“What was the subject of your quarrel that night?” + +“About as usual. Nothing in particular.” + +“Can you recall any of the exact—er—subjects?” + +“Why—no,” said Corole slowly. “That is, he told me I was running the +house too extravagantly. He always said that.” + +The coroner surveyed her for a moment or two. + +“Is this your revolver?” he said suddenly, reaching for the shiny +revolver and holding it before her. + +She started, quite visibly. One brown hand, with a great topaz shining +on it, reached out as if to clutch the thing, and then drew slowly +back. + + + +CHAPTER 8 + +A Gold Sequin + +“Does this revolver belong to you?” the coroner repeated. + +“Why, yes,” Corole said huskily. “That—is mine.” + +“Can you explain its presence in the closet in which your cousin’s +body was found?” + +She ran her tongue nervously over her lips. + +“No,” she said. “No.” + +“When did you see it last.” + +“I—don’t know. It was usually kept in the drawer of the table in +Louis’ study. I—don’t remember just when I saw it last.” + +“You didn’t bring it to the hospital, then?” + +“Certainly not,” flashed Corole. Her eyes narrowed so suddenly that I +almost expected her to flatten her ears and spit like a cat. + +“When did you last see your cousin, Dr. Letheny?” + +“When I went upstairs at a little after twelve.” Mentally I figured +that their quarrel must have been short and to the point. + +“Where did you leave him?” + +“He was sitting in his study.” + +“When you answered the telephone when Miss Day called, did you search +the house?” + +“Yes.” + +“Had his bed been disturbed?” + +“Apparently not.” + +“You can swear, then, that he was not in the house at—two o’clock?” + +“If that was when Miss Day telephoned, yes. I did not look at my +watch.” + +There were a few more, rather unimportant, questions, then Corole was +dismissed. + +After that the inquest rather dragged for awhile, although Huldah +telling very succinctly of Jim Gainsay taking out the Doctor’s sedan a +short time before the storm broke was one of the points of interest. +Several policemen had to tell just what they found; during the +description of finding Dr. Letheny’s body, I saw Corole wince for the +first time and raise her laced handkerchief to her face. + +Then Dr. Balman was summoned to tell of his movements following the +dinner party. He had gone directly to his room, it appeared, and was +asleep when the telephone rang. + +“Asleep?” said the coroner astutely. “Not in your dinner jacket, +Doctor.” + +“I was very tired that night, having worked hard all day. I sat down +in an armchair to rest and went to sleep. The first thing I knew the +telephone was ringing.” + +“And what did you do then?” + +“Miss Day sounded frightened—and it had been my impression that Mr. +Jackson was doing very well indeed. I took my coat, for it was +raining, got into my car and drove as fast as I could to St. Ann’s.” + +Dr. Hajek, too, corroborated as far as possible every feature of the +testimonies Maida and I had given. No, he had not heard any knocks on +the door of his room, until I knocked. The lights were out and he did +not understand at once what was wanted. However, when he did +understand that there was some trouble in Room 18, he hurried to that +room. He had only time to make the briefest of examinations, when Dr. +Balman arrived. Dr. Balman came by the south door into the wing, +instead of going around to the main entrance. The south door had been +closed and the key in the lock and Miss Day had let Dr. Balman into +the corridor. Yes, they had immediately agreed as to the cause of +death. + +Mr. James Gainsay was the next witness. As he advanced a queer little +stir crept over the room. + +He admitted freely that he had been walking in the orchard previous to +the storm. The night was hot and sultry, he said, and he had thought +it might be cooler outdoors. As freely he admitted that the cigarette +case belonged to him. + +“I’m certainly glad it was found,” he said, grinning a little. “I +value that cigarette case and did not know where I had lost it.” + +The coroner frowned; this levity was out of place. He moved the slim, +gold case to the side of the table farther away from Gainsay. + +“Was it you who collided with Miss Keate, there at the porch steps?” +he asked. + +Jim Gainsay’s sun-tanned eyebrows drew closer together, but his mouth +retained a half-amused smile. + +“I think it likely,” he said easily. “At least I—collided with some +one.” + +His candid air did not remove, to my mind, any of the significance of +his presence near the hospital. + +“Why were you running?” + +“I was in a hurry,” said Gainsay simply. + +“Where were you going?” + +“To Dr. Letheny’s garage.” + +“Did you go directly to the garage?” + +There was the barest possible hesitation. Then: + +“Yes.” + +“What did you do, then?” + +“Took Dr. Letheny’s car and drove into town.” + +“How long were you gone?” + +“About an hour, I should say. The roads were new to me and the rain +made it bad driving.” + +“You wanted to send a telegram?” + +If Jim Gainsay was surprised, he gave no sign of it. + +“Yes,” he said quietly. I don’t know what it was in the tightening of +his mouth and the quality of his voice that made me quite sure that +the question had, in some manner, put him on his guard. + +“What was the telegram?” + +“A matter of business,” replied Gainsay smoothly. + +At this point Lance O’Leary reached over the coroner’s table and +pushed something across it to the coroner. The coroner took it in his +hands, a slip of yellow paper, and adjusted his spectacles. After +reading what was written there, he glanced disapprovingly over his +glasses at Gainsay, deliberately read the message again and finally +spoke. + +“Was this the message you sent?” + +“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Jim Gainsay, good-naturedly, though +there was a wary look in his half-closed eyes. + +A little gust of laughter was frowned upon by the coroner, who poised +his spectacles again to read in a measured way: “‘Delayed owing to +unexpected development stop cannot make the _Tuscania_ stop may not +get away soon signed J. Gainsay.’ That yours, huh?” + +I was astounded to see that Gainsay had gone rather white and his jaw +was set. + +“Yes,” he said very quietly. + +“What do you mean, ‘unexpected development’?” + +“I—am not at liberty to state.” + +Something in Gainsay’s manner seemed to irritate the coroner. + +“Not at liberty to state! Well, see here, young man, you’d better be +at liberty to state and that mighty fast! You’ve admitted to skulking +around St. Ann’s, at a time of night when respectable people are in +bed and leaving cigarette cases——” + +“Now, now,” remonstrated Jim Gainsay gently. “I object to the word +‘skulking.’” + +“You object! You object!” The coroner removed his eyeglasses for freer +gesticulation and somehow they detached themselves from the ribbon and +flew out of his hand. He paused in slight discomposure and Lance +O’Leary stooped, returned the eyeglasses, and as he did so, leaned +over and said something in a low voice. + +“H’m-m. R’r’h’m!” remarked the coroner weightily, fixing a profound +gaze upon Jim Gainsay, as if his blackest doubts of this young man had +been justified. + +“That is all, Mr. Gainsay. For the present.” He surveyed Gainsay +unpleasantly and added, as if he liked the sound of the words: “For +the present.” + +The rest of the inquest was not interesting and was mostly a matter of +repeating things that I already knew. The coroner seemed rather addled +but very determined to catch somebody in an untruth. I knew where his +trouble lay; it was not that he lacked clues, it was rather that he +had too many of them and they all seemed to point in different +directions. I was glad that Lance O’Leary appeared to have kept his +own counsel about certain matters of which I had told him, though I +should have liked to see the faces of the board members if it had been +brought to their attention that the morphine had very likely been +stolen from our own south wing. + +The bell was ringing for lunch when the coroner concluded his somewhat +pointless inquiries, and after a few moments in which the room was in +utter silence the decisions were given. I was not surprised to hear +that Dr. Louis Letheny had come to his death at the hands of a person +or persons unknown. And a little later, in a hush so tense that we +could hear the dripping of rain from a gutter pipe outside the +windows, the same decision was given as to the death of our patient, +old Mr. Jackson. + +We stirred our cramped muscles, rose slowly and straggled out of the +room by twos and threes. To tell the truth I felt as if nothing but a +formality had been accomplished. But as I left the room I turned for a +look backward and saw Lance O’Leary’s smooth brown head bending close +over the coroner’s bald spot in earnest consultation. That one glimpse +convinced me that O’Leary actually, if not openly, controlled the +inquest and did so to suit his own inexplicable motives. I longed to +tell him of the mysterious visitor the south wing had had the previous +night but had no opportunity until later in the day. + +What with one thing and another troubling me I did not rest well that +afternoon. By the time I had napped spasmodically, had a bath, and got +into a fresh uniform and cap it was four o’clock and I wandered +through the curiously hushed corridors, down the stairs and into the +general office. Miss Jones was writing in the record book of incoming +cases and I paused to find out who had been entered. It was something +to know that even the disagreeable publicity we had been given had not +affected St. Ann’s prestige. + +“I’m putting him in Eighteen, in your wing,” she said as I bent over +her shoulder. + +“In Eighteen!” + +“Why, yes. The room is available for use, isn’t it? He wants a +downstairs room and that is the only one left.” + +“Whose patient?” + +“Dr. Balman’s, I think—yes.” She referred to the typed card. + +At the moment Dr. Balman entered the room from the inner office. + +“Just copy this history, please, Miss Jones, and let me know if——” he +glanced at the record she was preparing. “Are you putting him in +Eighteen?” he asked sharply. + +“Yes. Isn’t that right, Doctor?” + +His long fingers sought his beard perplexedly. + +“This affair is so recent——” he said doubtfully. “But, if there is no +other room?” + +“He especially asked for a downstairs room.” + +“Very well, then,” he agreed after a moment during which his +thoughtful, rather kind eyes studied the record. He spoke wearily. +“Put him in Eighteen. We will have to use the room sooner or later, in +any case. Oh—Miss Keate. Better warn the nurses to say nothing of +Eighteen’s—er—history. The patient will be here at least two or three +weeks, perhaps longer.” + +“Yes, Doctor,” I said as meekly as if I shouldn’t have known that I +must do that, anyway. And I must say I did not relish the idea of a +patient in Eighteen, knowing, as I did, that if it proved to be a +surgical case with no private nurse, much of the care would fall on my +shoulders, which meant many errands into Room 18. + +“Very good,” he said and turned toward the door. + +“Oh, Dr. Balman,” Miss Jones called him back hastily. “Did you not +want me to copy that history?” + +Dr. Balman wheeled, glanced at the typed paper still in his hand. + +“I forgot,” he said abstractedly. “Thank you, Miss Jones.” He handed +her the paper. “The patient will be in about six o’clock, I think,” he +added, as he disappeared. + +He had not any more than got out of the room, when Dr. Hajek entered. + +“Was there a telephone call for me—thank you,” as Miss Jones handed +him the pad with a number scribbled on it. + +He took down the telephone. + +“Main 2332, please,” he said into the mouthpiece, adding aside to Miss +Jones, “Any new cases this afternoon?” + +“Yes, Doctor. A Mr. Gastin is coming in. I have put him in Eighteen.” + +“In Eighteen! What? Oh, yes—Main 2332—” he turned again from the +telephone. “Did you say you put him in Eighteen? Eighteen in the south +wing?” he asked sharply. + +“Why, yes,” said Miss Jones. “That was the only downstairs room left.” + +“But——” began Dr. Hajek, only to be interrupted by the operator’s +voice again. “Yes. Main 2332—Oh, there you are. Yes, this is Dr. +Hajek. What’s that? . . . Did you take his temperature? Oh—yes I +see. . . . Try a hot water bag and a little warm milk. . . . +Yes. . . . Yes.” He hung up with a click. “About that new patient, +Miss Jones, I really don’t think it wise to put him in Eighteen. If he +is inclined to be nervous——” + +I was tired of discussing the matter. + +“He will not know a thing about what has happened there,” I +interrupted very rudely and not at all in accordance with professional +etiquette. “We’ve got to use the room sometime. Why not now?” + +“Yes,” agreed Dr. Hajek, surveying me absently. “Yes, I suppose so. +Yes. Did you say he comes this afternoon?” + +“About six o’clock,” said Miss Jones, and with a nod he swung toward +the inner office. + +Thinking that I must see that Room 18 was in order, I hurried toward +the south wing. The room had not been cleaned beyond a brief +straightening up, so I sent two nurses to clean it and went along +myself to superintend the affair. + +It was not pleasant to open that door, but I had opened it under still +less agreeable circumstances. The room was very gloomy and cold with +dismal shadows on the white walls, and the window panes so beaded with +moisture that the gray light from outside filtered but faintly into +the place. I relented so far as to turn on the electric light, which +threw the whole room into sharp relief, and the two girls set to work. + +The air was stale, so I crossed to the low window near the porch, +unlocked the catch and flung it wide, letting in the damp mist. I +stood there, thinking of the intruder of the previous night. Who had +been in this room? What had been his purpose? What would O’Leary say +when I told him of it? Had the visitor escaped by this window? I +looked at the wide sill. There was a screen there, to be sure, but it +worked on a spring catch and could easily be opened from either side, +this to facilitate the shaking of rugs and dusters and the adjusting +of awnings. Idly I pushed back the screen, running my finger along the +sill. I was about to close it again when a faint reflection of light +from something in the corner of the sill caught my eye. I leaned +toward that corner to look more closely, reached out and slowly turned +the tiny flat thing over with my fingernail. + +It was a gold sequin! + +I should never have seen it save for that minute reflection of light, +for the upper surface was all tarnished and stained, though the under +side was still bright. A wisp of frayed green thread still clung to +the small hole for a needle at the top of the flimsy bit of metal. + +I needed no one to tell me from where the thing had come; the night of +June seventh Corole Letheny had worn a dress of gold sequins cunningly +arranged over net with flashes of green here and there. + +And it did not seem probable to me that she had worn the gown since +that night. + +By the time I had digested this amazing fact the girls, to whom fear +seemed to lend astonishing speed, had got the room cleaned. + +“A patient is coming,” I explained to them. “That is all now.” They +were glad to be dismissed and hurried away. + +I did not remain alone in that room. Strolling down the corridor, the +tiny sequin still in my hand, it occurred to me that it would be a +fine thing to be able to tell Lance O’Leary, when I gave him the +sequin, whether or not Corole had worn her gold gown since the night +of her dinner party. Huldah would know, and somehow in the face of +this last development, I had no scruples as to inquiring of Huldah +concerning the affairs of her mistress. + +It was a matter of only a few moments until I was on my way. + +The path through the orchard squdged wetly under my feet; the trees +dripped steadily on my starched, white cap, and the mist lay so heavy +and close that I could not see more than ten or fifteen feet ahead of +me. The shrubs massed around the trees were hazy, shadowy outlines, +and the raw air fairly hurt my throat. + +I walked on slowly through the wet alfalfa field, passed the clump of +pines that made a black blot amidst the fog, and through the gate. The +porch of the Letheny cottage still looked dreary and Huldah had not +swept it that day. + +Corole came to the door. + +“Oh,” she said unenthusiastically. “Oh, hello, Sarah. Come in. I was +boring myself over a book.” She threw my cape on a chair and I +followed her into the study. + +“You decided not to go to New Orleans, then, with the—that is, for the +funeral?” + +“There was no need to.” Her face darkened. “He has relatives there +who—never cared for me.” + +“Mr. Jackson’s body was sent East,” I said. We lapsed into silence. +Presently Corole stirred. + +“I’d give you tea but Huldah is in bed with a headache. She went to +sleep right after lunch but I suppose is awake by now. I told her not +to worry about dinner; I’ll drive in to the Brevair. I’ve been wanting +to get out, anyhow, and they say there’s a wonderful new chef there.” + +“Well, for goodness’ sake, Corole, don’t make yourself conspicuous. +There’s that matter of the revolver at the inquest, you know.” + +Corole glanced curiously at me and laughed. + +“But my dear, I don’t know a thing about that revolver getting over to +St. Ann’s. And I do happen to know that there are other, far more +intriguing things, that might bear a little investigation.” She +smoothed the flat wave in her hair gently. “A little investigation, at +least,” she murmured as if amused, but her expression was not +pleasant. Indeed a look in her flat, yellow eyes reminded me that this +woman had lived in strange places, had seen strange things, was likely +familiar with dark secrets and black rites and primitive +passions—product of the twentieth century though she seemed, with her +laces and jewels and sophisticated eyebrows. Jungle nights, tom-toms +and the word “voodoo” came into my mind—and though I have never been +at all sure just what voodoo means, I found my skin crawling. + +“I think I’ll go up to see Huldah,” I said, rising abruptly, and +feigning a professional interest. + +“Do,” said Corole, smiling not at all tenderly into the fire. “You +know the way to her room? I’m too lazy to go along.” At my nod she +continued indolently: “Huldah highly approves of you, Sarah. She has +never quite trusted me, you know.” She laughed again. + +I found Huldah very drowsy and her headache worse. + +“It is on account of the cloudy weather,” I said, and we talked for +some moments very pleasurably of our experiences with neuralgia; my +own were much more interesting than Huldah’s but I listened +forbearingly to her tale. + +“I felt better for awhile after Miss Letheny gave me some medicine she +has,” went on Huldah. “I went right off to sleep. She gives it into +your arm so it doesn’t take long to——” + +“Into your arm!” I cried, struck by the phrase. “What do you mean?” + +“Why with one of them—what do you call them? Sort of like a needle.” + +“You don’t mean a hypodermic needle?” + +“Yes!” Huldah smiled happily. “That is it. I just couldn’t think of +what she called it. It is fine. You see, that way the medicine goes +directly into your——” + +“Huldah! Do you mean to say that Miss Letheny gave you a hypodermic?” + +She nodded, pulling up the sleeve of her outing-flannel wrapper and +showing me the tiny scar. I scrutinized it closely. It had been most +deftly done. There were no skin abrasions, the vein had been carefully +avoided, the needle quite evidently had been thrust into the flesh by +a practised and unfaltering hand. And that hand belonged to Corole +Letheny! + +“Wasn’t that all right, Miss Keate? It didn’t hurt at all——” + +I recalled myself to the present. + +“Huldah,” I said severely, “never let anyone but a doctor or a trained +nurse give you a hypodermic. Never!” And as her face turned rather +green I added, “That was likely just some headache medicine that Dr. +Letheny, or some one, had given Miss Letheny. So it is all right this +time.” And, indeed, I could tell that Corole had actually given her +only a mild opiate to relieve, most unwisely, her headache. + +“Now,” I went on, as I caught sight of my wrist watch pointing to five +o’clock. “Can you tell me something that I want to know, and forget +that I asked you?” + +Huldah is shrewd; she raised herself on one gray flannel elbow and +looked at me keenly. + +“I can keep a secret, Miss Keate. There’s many a thing I could tell if +I wanted to.” + +“What I want to know is this: Has Miss Letheny worn her gold dress +lately?” + +“You mean that green and gold, snaky thing with the scales on it?” + +“Yes.” + +“Let me see. She wore it last the night Dr. Letheny was killed.” + +“Are you sure, Huldah?” + +“Yes’m. I remember well. Poor Dr. Letheny!” + +“Feeling better, Huldah?” said a voice from the doorway. + +It was Corole, of course. + + + +CHAPTER 9 + +Under the Barberry Bush + +I left rather abruptly. But on the darkening path toward St. Ann’s I +decided that Corole could not have heard our conversation. Feeling +that I must get these last two pieces of news, as well as the +occurrence of the previous night to O’Leary as soon as possible, I +walked rapidly along through the fog. I crossed the little bridge and +was hurrying through the apple orchard when I came face to face with +O’Leary. + +“You are the very person I want to see, Miss Keate,” he said at once. + +Taking my arm he drew me a few steps from the path; he motioned and +following his gesture I found I had a view of the south door and small +colonial porch. + +“Tell me, Miss Keate, exactly where you were standing the night of +June seventh when the—er—arrow-like affair was thrown over your +shoulder?” + +“I had truly forgotten that—I should have told you.” + +“That’s all right,” he brushed my apology aside. “Can you recall about +where you were standing and the line it took over your shoulder?” + +“I think so,” I replied slowly and thoughtfully. “It seems to me it +should have fallen somewhere about that clump of barberry. Over +there.” I pointed with my finger toward the shrubbery that edges the +apple orchard. “I suppose you are trying to find what it was.” + +“If no one else has found—or retrieved it yet,” agreed O’Leary. + +With O’Leary going ahead and holding back the more importunate +branches and shrubs, we made our slow way to the spot I had indicated. +I remember that we took some pains not to be seen from the hospital +and, bending over as I did, to keep my white cap invisible from those +windows, I had an absurd feeling that I was playing a grim game of +hide-and-seek. In the excitement of the search I did not notice my +soaked shoes and my wet hair, and remember only how I groped along the +sodden leaf mold, and around the slippery brown roots of the shrubs +and trees. If we had known what to look for, it would have been an +easier task, O’Leary informed me, after some twenty minutes’ vain +delving in the wet underbrush. He was inclined to be a little pettish +about it, implying that I might have noticed the thing more carefully. +That remark was made the time he slipped on some wet leaves and flung +his hands into a barberry bush to keep his balance. He looked +amazingly human and ordinary, picking out the thorns. It was just a +few moments after that that I heard him utter a sudden ejaculation of +pain. He was on the opposite side of a large clump of barberry bush +and I crawled cautiously around to discover what had happened. + +I found him squatting on his heels, with his thumb in his mouth and +the other hand clasping a small object that, from his glance, seemed +to have pleased him inordinately. + +“I’ve found it, Miss Keate,” he said, achieving triumphant utterance +in spite of the thumb. “Look! Could it have been this?” + +It was a mercy I was so near the ground for my knees simply caved in +under me. In his hand was a small hypodermic syringe. The nickel on it +was rusted a little from the weather. + +This syringe whizzing over my shoulder was exactly what I had seen. It +was heavy enough to acquire considerable velocity and, as I peered +through the shrubbery and trees to the porch, I knew that it would +have fallen about here. The trouble was that it looked very much like +the south wing’s missing syringe. Of course, all hypodermics are much +alike, but I knew a certain way that it could be identified, for Maida +had taken a cue from me and marked all her tools with a small +scratched “D.” + +“Let me see it,” I said. + +Without a word he handed the thing to me. On the top of the little +flat button was a rudely scratched “D,” rusty but still distinct. + +“I see you recognize it,” said O’Leary, taking his thumb out of his +mouth, and regarding it as thoughtfully as if he had not another +object in the world. “It is Miss Day’s, is it not?” + +I nodded. + +“Everyone in the wing had access to it. The fact that it may have +originally belonged to Maida doesn’t mean that she threw it out here.” + +“No—no, of course not,” he said contemplatively. “Well—we found it, +Miss Keate. Though I could wish that I had not run into it so +forcibly.” + +He regarded the scratch on his thumb. “You don’t suppose that rust +harbored any tetanus germs?” + +“It has bled enough by this time to clean itself,” I said without much +sympathy, feeling indeed that if he _would_ find things it served him +right to get stuck! + +“You nurses!” he said, looked at me and laughed. “I wish you could see +yourself, Miss Keate.” + +Conscious not only of my undignified posture but also of an increasing +dampness penetrating my skirts, I rose. He followed me through the +shrubbery toward the path. + +“This is as secluded a place in which to talk as we can find, Miss +Keate,” he said. “Have you come upon any new developments that I’d +like to hear about?” + +“How did you know I had?” I asked, not any too pleasantly. + +He smiled. “By the look in your eyes and your general aspect +of—er—having swallowed the canary, so to speak.” + +“Well, as a matter of fact there is a thing or two.” As briefly as I +could, I told him of the gold sequin and of the fact that Corole had +last worn that gown the night of June seventh. I also told him that +she was an adept at the use of a hypodermic needle. And then, somewhat +reluctantly, and glancing rather nervously into the foggy shadows that +were increasing under the dripping trees about us, I told him of the +visitor to Room 18 of the previous night. He asked several questions, +seeming to be extremely interested. + +“It goes without saying that the person, whoever it was, who entered +Room 18 last night had some purpose. That there was—or is—something +yet in Eighteen that he wanted.” He frowned. “I don’t see what I could +have missed.” + +“There was the sequin,” I suggested. + +“Yes, there was the sequin. You said it was under the screen? Yes, I +missed that. But somehow I don’t see Corole Letheny coming back for +it.” + +“She has likely not missed it—there are hundreds of the things on that +dress.” + +“Huldah was positive she hadn’t worn the dress since Thursday night? +She might have left it there last night, you know.” + +I shook my head. + +“No. Huldah was sure. And it must have been then, for the side of the +sequin that lay uppermost is all tarnished from the rain.” + +“That is true. Then the question is, Who was in Room 18 last night? +And what did he want?” His gray eyes were like two clear lakes. + +“Miss Keate,” he said suddenly. “This radium: I’ve been hunting +through encyclopedias about the stuff, but there is something I want +to know. Could it be carried about in a pocket? Without burning, you +know.” + +“Yes, if it were in the box made for it. Radium is used in a variety +of tools, for many purposes. But in this case it was in a sort of +boxlike container, quite small.” + +“And could be carried in a pocket or in one’s hand?” he insisted. “Or +even hidden in one place or another?” + +“Goodness, yes!” I replied. “I’ve seen tools containing it carried +about in doctors’ bags often enough.” + +He did not speak for a moment or two, studying me in the meantime with +thoughtful eyes that did not in the least see me. + +“I should think that it would be hard to dispose of—though as to +that——” He broke off abruptly. “Look here, Miss Keate, how is it that +such a valuable thing is used with so little precaution against +theft?” + +“In some hospitals radium is guarded,” I explained. “There is one very +large hospital, to which patients come from all over the world, where +guards are placed in the sick-room whenever radium is used. But it was +not deemed necessary here at St. Ann’s. Nothing of the kind has ever +happened before and our class of patients is, as a rule, of the most +respectable. St. Ann’s, you know, has really the best standing——” I +stopped in the middle of my rather snooty remark as I saw the half +smile on his face. + +“Still it did happen,” he said softly. + +“Yes,” I retorted. “And it is your business to recover it.” + +His face sobered instantly. + +“Not an easy task, Miss Keate,” he said at once and most amiably. “And +I’m grateful for the help you give me. In return I shall tell you, +since you ask it, that there are a few possible premises that interest +me. You might give me your opinion of them. For one thing—we have +found that there were three possible means of death, in or about Room +18. There was a revolver, ether, and a hypodermic syringe and enough +morphine missing from the drug room to more than accomplish—what we +believe it did accomplish. Three weapons where only one was necessary! +Dr. Letheny met his death by a fourth means. Three weapons! Does that +not indicate that there was more than one person interested in your +patient’s death?” + +“Three!” I gasped. “Three!” In consternation I went over the list of +names of that dinner party of ill memory. “But there were only six of +us at that dinner to whose personnel you limit your suspects.” + +“Seven,” corrected O’Leary. “There is Dr. Letheny, you know.” + +“But Mr. O’Leary, it sounds like a club.” I was very much in earnest +but the man had the impudence to laugh. + +“It _does_ sound like an association of some kind,” he said coolly. +“The cuff link and the affair of the disappearing hypodermic needle +point to Maida. The presence and continued presence of Jim Gainsay, +plus that somewhat ambiguous wire, point to him. Possibility includes +you and the two doctors. And as to Miss Letheny, we have several +counts against her. So you see it does look rather like a conspiracy.” + +“Nonsense,” I said irritably. “I assure you that all six of us did not +band together for the purpose of doing away with Dr. Letheny and his +patient.” + +“Of course not,” agreed O’Leary soothingly. “Though you must admit, +Miss Keate, that there are a good many clues—no, we’ll call them +merely facts that intrigue the curious mind—that seem to include all +of you.” + +“Coincidence,” I said with considerable decision. + +O’Leary’s eyebrows went up a little. + +“Have it as you will,” he agreed amicably. + +“You have forgotten the fact that Fred Hajek’s coat was wet that night +when I finally aroused him. Why didn’t you inquire about that at the +inquest?” + +“I had already done so,” said O’Leary. “He explained that the window +in his room was open and that the coat was lying across a chair beside +the window when the rain began. He did not waken immediately and it +rained on his coat.” + +“H’m,” said I skeptically. “How about Dr. Balman? Are you going +to take his word for it that he was in his own apartment during the +time all this took place? What about that bruise on his face that he +said he got running through the orchard? Mightn’t he have got it +earlier in the night?” Though my heart reproved me as I spoke, for +Dr. Balman, torn from his beloved studies, forced into a thousand +responsibilities, worn and haggard and tired and troubled, was a +pathetic figure. + +“Dr. Balman is too busy a man these days to bother much with +questions,” said O’Leary simply. “However, since you have inquired, I +have proved his statement. According to the elevator man at the +apartment house in which Dr. Balman lives, Dr. Balman arrived from the +Letheny’s at twelve-fifteen and did not leave until the same elevator +man, who also attends the switchboard during the night, gave him a +call from St. Ann’s. The elevator man obligingly listened in to the +conversation, had the elevator at the door of Dr. Balman’s apartment +immediately, and took the doctor down to the first floor at exactly +three minutes after two.” + +“Now then,” he continued after a short silence, “about this hypodermic +needle: I should like to have a little talk with Miss Day. And also I +want to visit Room 18 again.” + +“There is a patient in Room 18.” + +“Already!” + +“Yes. I don’t think Dr. Balman, or Dr. Hajek either, wanted to permit +the room to be used, but there was no other place for the patient.” + +O’Leary’s clear eyes considered me absently for a moment. + +“It isn’t likely, then, that there will be a repetition of last +night’s affair,” he said finally. “But suppose you let me go over the +room again, when I can do so without disturbing the patient.” + +A figure moving through the mist caught our eyes. It was Maida, her +white cap gleaming above her blue and scarlet cape. + +“Good-afternoon, Miss Day,” said O’Leary, stepping into the path. + +I think Maida was a little startled, for her eyes darkened and she +glanced hurriedly along the path toward the bridge. + +But: “Good-afternoon, Mr. O’Leary,” she answered composedly enough. +“Oh, there you are, Sarah,” she went on as her eyes fell on me. “I was +wondering where you had gone.” Her eyes travelled to my hair, and she +exclaimed: “How wet your hair is! You’ll get neuralgia, won’t you?” + +I put a hand to my hair. It was wet and very draggled where the +branches from the trees and shrubs under which I had crept had pulled +it. I straightened my wilted cap and tucked up the more adventurously +straying locks. + +“I’ve been looking for something.” + +“I think you must have been,” agreed Maida, a flicker of mirth in her +blue gaze. “You must have looked for it under the barberry bushes.” + +As a matter of fact I had done just that. But before I could say +anything O’Leary took up the conversation. + +“Did you lose your hypodermic needle, Miss Day?” he asked without +prelude. + +Maida’s face sobered instantly and she glanced swiftly at him. + +“Why, yes, I did lose it,” she said immediately. + +“Is this the one you lost?” he asked, holding the syringe toward her +in his outstretched palm and keeping his extraordinarily clear eyes on +her face so keenly as almost to read her thoughts. + +So I am sure he saw her lips tighten, as I did, and her chin go up +defiantly. + +“It seems to be,” she said. “I had scratched my initial on mine.” She +reached for the syringe and turned it so she could see the small +plunger with its marked top. + +“Yes,” she said quietly. “That is my own syringe.” + +“I found it just now in a clump of bushes. Do you know how it got +there?” + +“No,” said Maida flatly. + +“Why, then,” said O’Leary very softly, “did you replace it with Miss +Keate’s needle?” + +Maida turned toward me at that, her eyes again unfathomable. But +before she could reply Jim Gainsay, whose approach we had not noted, +swept impetuously between us. + +“Hello, Miss Keate—O’Leary. Here you are, Miss Day.” And without any +ado about it, he simply took Maida’s arm and hustled her away from us +and along the narrow path toward the bridge before we had time to +blink. + +It was rather astonishing, and O’Leary and I stood there in silence +for a moment until the fog hid the gleam of scarlet from Maida’s cape. + +“Well,” remarked O’Leary then, turning to me; I saw that his eyes were +twinkling with a sort of unwilling admiration that was half amusement. +“Well—somewhat piratical is Mr. Gainsay. I suppose he brazenly +listened to what we said. It is evident that he did not want Miss Day +to answer my last question—also, that he is more or less in her +confidence and that he was meeting her by appointment. Or”—he paused +for a moment—“or it might be that he has reasons of his own for not +wishing it to be known just why Miss Day substituted your needle for +her own. At least,” he concluded briskly, “he knows more than an +innocent man should know.” + +And with that I had to be content, for he would not say another word +and we walked silently along the dusky path until we came to the +colonial porch of the south wing. + +“I’ll go on around to the main entrance,” said O’Leary, then. “I want +to use the telephone in the general office. I’ll be around to your +wing later; there is something about Room 18 that I must know.” He +took off his cap as he walked away from me—a nice gesture that was +somewhat marred in effect by his very dirty hands. + + + +CHAPTER 10 + +A Midnight Visitor + +I slipped unobserved into the diet kitchen, where I left my cape and +to some degree repaired damages. I found, on emerging from the +kitchen, that the new patient in Eighteen had arrived. It is a rule +with me personally to superintend the installation of a new patient, +so I went at once to Room 18. I still found it unpleasant to enter +that room, especially since the figure on the narrow bed reminded me +forcibly of that other figure that had lain there. + +Mr. Gastin was an elderly man, somewhat peevish at being thrust into +bed, and quite to my liking. He must have been a person of some +importance, for flowers galore had already arrived, among them a +potted lobelia, a sinister-looking flower that I have never liked. + +He replied rather bitterly that he was as comfortable as might be +expected and asked for the evening papers. + +“I’m sorry,” I said, “but we don’t have them.” + +“Don’t have them!” he exclaimed, eyeing me shrewdly. “Oh. Oh, yes, I +see why. Where did all this trouble occur, anyway? And see here, +what’s the matter with this radio? The thing don’t work. Is it turned +on at this hour? I want the stock reports. I want to tune in myself.” + +“The radio is in the general office,” I explained hastily, fearing he +would return to the question I did not wish to answer. “The speakers +in the different rooms connect with it. It is usually turned on at +this hour, but I don’t know whether they have got the stock reports or +not.” + +“Well, bring me a speaker that works, anyhow,” he said, hitching +himself on one elbow among the pillows and then flopping back again. +“Anything for amusement. I suppose it will be bedtime stories. Well, +bring ’em on. And you might slip me a cigar.” + +I felt rather sad as I took the loud speaker, pulled the plug from its +connection above the bed, and started away. It doesn’t take five +minutes to place a new patient in his correct category and I knew all +too well where this one belonged. Someone had labelled them “crippled +captains of finance,” and the title stuck. + +Being in a hurry I took the faulty speaker into Sonny’s room. He was +engrossed with a new block puzzle and paying no attention to the radio +so I exchanged the speakers, taking the one in Sonny’s room to Mr. +Gastin for the time being. Once connected, soft and dulcet tones rang +through Number 18: “. . . and then Bunny Brown Eyes—scampered +along . . .” + +“Oh, hell,” remarked Mr. Gastin. + +“The dinner concert comes on at seven,” I suggested. + +“Think I can stand this till then?” he asked, but left the plug in. +“Can you bring me a—er—blanket or two, nurse? Somehow this room seems +sort of—I don’t know—cold, I guess. You might turn on that light up +there—yes, and the one over the dresser, too.” + +The light over the bed was already glowing, but I did as he asked. +Which only goes to prove that Room 18 was already getting in its work. +I left the door open and remember that I spoke very earnestly when I +told him to turn on the signal light if he wanted anything. + +He did not have to listen to the bunny story after all, however, for I +met Miss Jones coming along with a truck and she told me that she was +taking Mr. Gastin to Dr. Letheny’s—that is, Dr. Balman’s office for an +examination. + +“He hasn’t had his supper tray yet, has he?” she asked anxiously. + +Meeting O’Leary in the hall I told him that Room 18 was vacant for a +few minutes; I went on downstairs to eat, however, and did not +accompany him. But when I sat down to glance at the charts of the +south wing an hour later, O’Leary stopped beside me. + +“No luck?” I said. + +“Not a thing,” he replied. + +There was a distinctly puzzled look in his face. + +“Keep your eyes open to-night, Miss Keate. If anything occurs like +last night, ’phone to me immediately. Here’s my number. I’ll sleep +right by the telephone. Thanks. Good-night.” + +But before taking five steps he whirled back to me. + +“By the way, Miss Keate,” he said in a low voice so that the little +cluster of white-clad nurses around the dumbwaiter could not hear him. +“By the way, it seems peculiar that after the inquest when the matter +of your seeing this hypodermic needle was brought to light so +publicly, no one tried to retrieve it. One wonders why. And another +thing—I should like to know where this Jim Gainsay spent the time +between your meeting him at the corner of the porch, and his starting +to town in Dr. Letheny’s car. There are, according to your story, +about fifteen minutes unaccounted for——Good-night, again.” + +I did not return to the south wing until midnight. I found only Maida +there for second watch, Miss Dotty having arranged the schedule of +nursing hours on its old basis, thus depriving us of our temporary +increased help. I thought it somewhat presumptuous of Miss Dotty, who, +after all, is only superintendent of nurses and has no jurisdiction +over our wing. Olma Flynn had been placed on first watch, as formerly, +and on relieving her she assured me that everything was going well and +though the new patient in Eighteen was a trifle restless, I had +expected that, so I thought nothing of it. + +Olma had locked the south door and its key hung peacefully on its +customary nail. Under Maida’s understanding gaze I took the key from +the nail and slipped it under an order pad on the chart desk; if +anyone wanted it that night he should have to ask for it! + +I hadn’t been on the floor ten minutes when Eighteen’s light went on; +upon answering it I found my patient sitting bolt upright in bed, with +the small light over the bed glowing brightly. + +“I don’t like this bed, nurse!” he said. His rumpled gray hair gave +him a rather ferocious aspect and his pajama coat was all wrinkled and +twisted from flouncing around on the bed. + +His words gave me rather a turn for, as far as that went, I didn’t +like the bed myself. But I advanced coolly enough and began +straightening the tossed sheets and blanket. + +“What is the matter with it?” I asked, in my professionally +comfortable voice. I was not prepared for his reply. + +“It feels like a coffin,” he said, staring gloomily at his feet. + +“Like a coffin!” + +He glanced at me sharply. + +“Like a coffin,” he repeated stubbornly. “I don’t like it.” + +“Nonsense,” I said, recovering myself and reaching for a pillow. “You +aren’t used to it, that’s all.” + +“What do they make them so high for?” he said peevishly, peering over +the edge of the bed. “If I’d fall out I’d have a long way to go.” + +“You’re not going to fall out,” I reassured him. “And if they didn’t +make them high we nurses would break our backs. That is the greatest +life-saver for nurses that anybody ever found. You see, if they were +built at the height of ordinary beds we would have to bend away +over——” + +“Well, they don’t have to be so narrow,” he interrupted sulkily. +“Every time I turn over I have to grab to save myself from going out.” + +“Oh, it isn’t that bad, is it?” I plumped the pillows briskly, +replaced them and pulled the draw sheet straight. “Now, that will be +better. Try to relax and lie quiet.” + +He subsided on the pillow, still muttering childishly. + +It seemed close in the room, so I raised the window higher and brought +him a fresh drink of water. Of course, if the window had already been +up I should have lowered it; I make it a point to fuss around the room +a little just to make the patient think I’m doing things for his +comfort, and nine times out of ten he will drop off to sleep at once. + +This was the tenth time, however, for within half an hour Eighteen’s +light flickered on again. Maida answered it that time and when she +came out she looked very peculiar. + +“What is the matter?” I asked, meeting her in the corridor. + +“It is Eighteen. He is very restless.” + +“Yes, I know that he is.” + +“He——” she hesitated. “He does not seem to like the room.” + +Our eyes met but I tried to keep the little tremor of fright out of my +voice as I replied: “He isn’t accustomed to a hospital room yet, that +is all.” + +“I hope so, I’m sure,” said Maida somewhat morosely and went on about +her errand. + +I myself am so accustomed to the hospital that is home to me that it +is only once in a while that I see it as it impresses a stranger. For +a singular moment or two that night I saw it with alien eyes, so to +speak; the corridor was long and strange and dark with the vases of +flowers along the walls making grotesque shadows against the lighted +region of the chart desk at the extreme end of the wings; the hush +that always surrounds a hospital, particularly at night, seemed +unfamiliar and grim; the doors swung noiselessly; the little thud of +our rubber-heeled shoes along the rubberized floor-runner seemed +stealthy. Our hushed, low voices had a furtive note. The hospital +odours of antiseptics and soap and medicines and sickness, with under +it all a lurking, faint but ever-present breath of ether, came to my +nostrils with the clearness of novelty. The dim red gleams of +scattered signal lights, above the black voids that were doors, seemed +strange, too, and weird. I caught myself staring up and down the +corridor, puzzled and wondering and faintly frightened as if I were in +a new and terrifying place. Then all at once, things resolved +themselves into the old, familiar wing. But the feeling of uneasiness +persisted. + +The patient in Eighteen finally turned off his light and must have +gone to sleep, for we heard nothing of him for an hour or two. We were +fairly busy, with little opportunity for conversation. Along about two +o’clock I found that Sonny had managed to acquire a sore throat, a +hot, flushed face and icy feet. I was hurrying for camphorated oil and +a hot-water bottle when Eighteen’s light shone redly above the door. I +hastened to answer it. + +“Nurse,” said our patient firmly, his eyes quite swollen from lack of +sleep, and his bedclothes more tousled than ever. “Nurse, I do not +like this room. I want another.” + +I sighed inwardly even as I went again about the business of +straightening him and the bed. + +“There isn’t another on the floor, Mr. Gastin,” I said quietly. “And +anyway we can’t move you in the middle of the night.” + +“But I insist upon being moved,” he said, with an odd mixture of +childish pettishness and adult command. What would be the result if +the world at large knew these important business men as we know them! +Big babies, they are, most of them! + +“This room is exactly like any other room,” I said. + +“I don’t like it!” he reiterated. “There’s—there’s noises.” His eyes +roved about the room uneasily. “There’s noises! Sounds like +whispering.” + +I’ll not deny that these extraordinary words stirred my hair at its +roots. + +“Non—sense!” I brought out jerkily. “Nonsense! You are nervous.” + +He was regarding me with shrewd little eyes. I stared back at him, +trying to appear steady and at ease, but it was no use. He raised his +hand to point a square forefinger at me, shaking it emphatically in my +face. + +“I’ll bet you ten dollars—I’ll bet you a hundred dollars, right there +in my pants pocket, that this is _the room!_” + +Fascinated, I kept my eyes on the square finger. He did not need to +say what room, for I knew well what he meant. I moistened my lips. + +“How about it?” he went on more briskly. “How about it? Do I win?” + +And at my continued silence he chuckled, lying back again on the +pillow. + +“I can see that I win,” he said. He pulled the sheet up over his +shoulders, and stuffed the pillow more comfortably under his head. +“Now that I know what the trouble is, I can go to sleep all right,” +said this amazing man. He laughed softly. “I’m no nervous woman,” he +went on with a touch of swagger. “Turn out the light, will you?” + +He closed his eyes with the utmost unconcern. + +“The whispers won’t bother me now that I know what they are,” he said +casually as I moved toward the door. + +Still feeling shaken, I walked slowly along the corridor. What could +the man mean? + +Resolving at length to take a lesson from my patient’s sang-froid, I +tried to shrug the matter away as a fancy on his part, and proceeded +to take care of Sonny’s needs, applying the hot-water bottle to his +throat and the camphorated oil to his feet in the coolest fashion +until Sonny remonstrated with a hoarse giggle. + +By three o’clock things had quieted down all over the wing. The +patients were either asleep or resting and the windows dark with the +blackest hour of the night. Maida was sitting at the chart desk, her +white-capped head bent over Eleven’s chart, and I had gone into +Sonny’s room to make sure he was all right. The whole place was as +quiet and hushed as a city of the dead. + +I took my thermometer and shook it vigorously. And in the very act of +placing it between Sonny’s lips, I lost hold on it, dropped it and +whirled facing the door. For without any warning at all a scream was +rising from somewhere in the wing. + +It rose and swelled to the very old roofs, choked horribly at its +height and ceased. + +It was a scream of stark terror! + +A woman’s scream! + +Somehow I got into the corridor. Maida was there, too, running toward +Room 18, and I followed her. + +It was Maida who reached for the light. It revealed our patient half +out of bed, staring with blinking eyes at something on the other side +of the bed. + +We followed his gaze. Huddled there on the floor was a woman. We saw a +dark cloak, a brown hand outflung and metallic waves of hair. We both +leaned closer. + +“It’s Corole!” cried Maida sharply. + +We turned her on her back. For a horrible moment I though that +Eighteen had added another victim to its list. But all at once Corole +opened her eyes, sat up dazedly, saw Mr. Gastin still sitting on the +edge of the bed, and at the sight her mouth opened, her eyes glared, +and she pressed her hand tight across her mouth as if to prevent an +outcry. + +The relief of seeing that she was alive was so great that Maida sank +limply to a chair and I turned in natural reaction to anger. + +“What on earth are you doing here, Corole?” I asked warmly. “What +happened to you? Are you hurt?” + +She ignored my questions. + +“Who is that?” she whispered hoarsely, pointing to the bed. There was +such urgency in her tone and gesture that I replied. + +“That is a new patient.” + +“A new patient? _Here?_” + +“Certainly. Why not?” + +She looked at me; her eyes were green and shone. + +“When did he come?” + +“Late this afternoon. Why? What is the matter? Tell me what happened!” + +She groped for the cloak, pulled it absently around her and rose to +her feet in one long, sinuous motion. + +“He frightened me,” she said. “I thought—— I saw him lying there on +the bed—— I didn’t know you had a patient here. I thought it was—I +thought——” With a visible effort she controlled herself, passed a hand +across her pallid face. She looked terrible—grim, hag-ridden; her lips +were blue, her face ashen and her eyes like a frantic cat’s. + +And at the moment we heard hurrying footsteps in the corridor and Dr. +Hajek, clutching a bathrobe around his pajamas, followed by Dr. +Balman, burst into the room. Dr. Hajek had a revolver in one hand, and +at sight of us he paused abruptly, his eyes met Corole’s for a long +moment, and I experienced the strangest feeling that they were +corresponding, without words or motions, there in front of my eyes. It +was the briefest of impressions, gone before the thought had more than +come to me, and I saw Dr. Hajek slowly dropping the revolver into his +bathrobe pocket. + +“What is it?” inquired Dr. Balman. In a few words I explained the +situation, as far as I could. Dr. Balman surveyed us all for a space +during which I could hear my own heart thudding, then he walked to the +bed, drew the patient gently back and pulled the covers over him. Mr. +Gastin submitted without a word, his gaze still on Corole. + +“I was frightened,” said Corole, her voice harsh. “I thought—— Never +mind what I thought. I——” She tried to smile and the grimace she made +was dreadful. “I must have fainted. I’m sorry. Sorry to disturb you.” + +This apology was not like Corole. I started to speak, stopped myself, +started again. No one seemed to hear me. + +Dr. Hajek cleared his throat. + +“Was there—anything wrong?” he asked in what struck me as rather +belated inquiry. + +“I——” began Corole again. Her face was looking a little less hideous, +and by the time she had finished she seemed more like herself. “I did +not know that there was a patient in the room. I saw his figure in +bed, there. It frightened me. I screamed. And fell. I suppose I roused +the whole hospital. Really, Miss Keate, I do not think you should have +put a patient in this room.” + +It was like the hussy to try to blame me, and indignation almost +choked me. While I was stuttering for a suitable reply Maida spoke. At +the first word I glanced at her in amazement and saw Dr. Balman and +Dr. Hajek follow my gaze. + +“And what were _you_ doing in this room?” asked Maida. Her eyes were +like twin swords, her straight black brows stern. “You had no honest +business in this room, Corole Letheny! Why did you come here?” + +Corole’s head jerked toward Maida with a flash of green light from +those crafty eyes. + +For a moment the two women surveyed each other, neither faltering in +her steadily inimical regard. I moved uneasily and in the hush I heard +one or two signal lights clicking. At the sound I pulled myself +together; we should have another panic on our hands if we did not take +care. + +“Yes, Corole,” I said decisively. “Why did you come here? And how did +you get into the room?” + +“I think your presence demands an explanation,” added Dr. Balman +quietly. + +She looked at me, she swept Dr. Balman’s mild brown eyes, she +flickered a green glance at Dr. Hajek, she drew her silk wrap more +closely about her, she moved her brown hands uneasily up and down its +collar, and she finally replied. + +“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I got to thinking of Louis and +somehow—got the idea that if I came over here I might be able to—to——” +Her excuse died away from very lack of body, she took a long breath, +and raised her eyelids insolently. “I felt I must see Room 18. So I +came. I got in at the window. If you have nothing more to +say—Good-night.” Her strange eyes swept us and actually they harboured +a gleam of amusement. Then she drew the cloak tightly about her, +walked to the window, put one hand on the sill, and with a long, +graceful movement swung herself over the sill and through the window. +It was done with the nonchalance and ease of an animal and she did not +even glance back at us. For an instant her gold hair shone beyond the +window, then the screen came down upon a black void and she was +definitely gone. + +No one left in the room spoke. Dr. Hajek made a motion as if he +thought to accompany her but thought better of it. Dr. Balman reached +for Mr. Gastin’s pulse. Maida crossed the room swiftly and went into +the corridor. As her starched skirts rustled past the bed Mr. Gastin +took his eyes from the window. + +“I think,” he said feebly. “I think I should like to have an upstairs +room.” + +“We’ll see in the morning,” I said absently. + +“_In the morning!_” observed Mr. Gastin with feeling. “Do you think +I’m going to stay in this haunted room for the rest of the night!” + +And believe it or not, we had to give up and bundle him on a truck and +take him to a temporary bed in the charity ward! This was the first +time in all my years of nursing that I was so influenced by a patient +and this was not accomplished without resistance on my part and +extremely sulphuric language on his. In fact, he proved to be +versatile in the latter respect, attaining heights that made my hair +stand on end. Dr. Balman was quite scarlet at the end of one climactic +triumph and sent Dr. Hajek hurriedly for the truck. + +So, all in all, it was not until I was back in the wing, and our +patients had been assured by the story of a mouse that Maida in a +burst of unexpected mendacity brought forth, and things were quiet and +peaceful again, that I began to wonder what had been the purpose of +Corole’s visit. + +And it was clear to me, all at once, that she was looking for +something. + +What could that something be—the radium? Could Corole believe that the +radium was still in Room 18? And if so, what reason had she for her +belief? + +And at the same time I recalled my promise to O’Leary to telephone to +him if the night brought any disturbance. It was with some trepidation +that I convinced myself that he could do nothing till morning anyway, +and it was as well that I had forgotten my promise. + +I did not for a moment believe Corole’s faltering attempt at an +explanation. But at the same time it occurred to me that had she been +of a mind to lie she could likely have invented a much more plausible +and convincing tale than the one she told. + + + +CHAPTER 11 + +By the Light of a Match + +It was near morning by that time, and Maida and I had to work rapidly +to get our patients washed and tooth-brushed and ready for the +breakfast trays. To my satisfaction no one from the other wings +appeared to have heard Corole’s scream, or to know that there had been +any disturbance in the south wing. + +The morning passed quietly. I took a long-needed rest and did not see +O’Leary until I came downstairs about the middle of the afternoon. +Somewhat to my disappointment, for I had anticipated telling him +myself, he knew all about Corole’s visit. Dr. Balman had told him of +it. O’Leary said briefly that he had talked to Corole; I gathered that +she stuck to her story of the previous night, even to the extent of +embroidering rather elaborately on her cousinly affection for Dr. +Letheny and her anxiety to know the cause of his death. O’Leary seemed +somewhat perturbed, a result that would have delighted Corole had she +known it. + +“We have got bolts on the window,” said O’Leary. “Dr. Balman suggested +it; at least there’ll be no more such visitors as last night.” + +He did not linger. An hour or so later I slipped out the south door +for a breath of fresh air. I glanced in at Room 18 as I passed. Sure +enough there were shiny new bolts on the window. Mr. Gastin had +evidently preferred the charity ward to Room 18, for he had not +returned, though the pot of lobelias still stood on the table looking +more jaundiced than ever. + +If cold and damp, still the air was refreshing and I walked at a brisk +pace along the path toward the bridge. I did not see that Higgins was +following me until I paused to lean on the railing and stare at the +muddy, swollen little stream below my feet. There the shrubbery grows +so close to the bridge that it hangs over it and the water, and I was +amusing myself by pulling dead leaves from a willow, bending near and +tossing them into the little, swirling eddies of water when Higgins +spoke suddenly at my elbow. + +It startled me and I whirled to face him. + +“Miss Keate,” he began again. “I—— Could you—— There is something I +want to tell you.” He spoke in a hesitating, reluctant manner as if he +were not sure he wanted to tell me, after all. + +“What is it?” I inquired crisply. + +He swallowed audibly and cleared his throat. + +“I—I’ve been wondering—— It is this way, Miss Keate. I want to know +what you think I had better do.” + +I squared around for a better look at him. He was rather pale and +played nervously with his furnace-stained cap. + +“What about, Higgins?” I said kindly. + +He made a motion to speak, checked it and peered furtively up and down +the path. Owing to its twisting he could not see very far either way, +so he leaned over toward me and spoke in a half-whisper. + +“It is about the night of June seventh,” he said mysteriously. + +The words focussed my attention sharply. + +“June seventh!” I exclaimed. + +“Sh—sh——” he made a quick gesture for silence, and peered again all +about in the semi-twilight made by the still dour, cloudy sky and mist +and dripping, close-growing shrubbery. “Yes. The night of June +seventh. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what my duty is. I +don’t want to get nobody into trouble. But I can’t go on no longer +without telling somebody. I thought you, Miss Keate, would know what +to do.” + +“What is it?” I asked quickly. + +He did not reply at once. Instead he looked uneasily all about us, +examining the surroundings with an intensity that impressed upon me +the need for caution as to the matter he was about to relate. +Unconsciously I drew nearer him. + +“Go on,” I said. + +He surveyed me doubtfully. + +“I wish I knew whether I was doing right or not,” he mused with a +worried air. “You see—I don’t want to get into trouble myself, +either.” + +Poor Higgins! + +“I’ll see that you do not,” I promised rashly, little knowing how +impossible it would prove to be to keep my word. + +He cleared his throat, glanced toward the path again. + +“You see, I saw it,” he whispered. + +“Saw what?” + +“Saw who killed the patient in Room 18!” + +For a breathless second I wondered if the man had taken leave of his +senses. His gray face, his evident fright, the way his eyes shifted +about, first peering in one direction and then another, convinced me +of his sincerity. He must be speaking the truth. It was evident, too, +and I did not wonder at it, that he was in a mortal terror of his +knowledge. + +“How was it? What did you see?” I whispered too. + +“Well, it was this way,” he began so slowly as to nearly drive me +frantic with impatience. “It was this way: I had a bad toothache that +night. It wouldn’t let me sleep and the hot night seemed to make it +worse. I finally got up and came upstairs to get Dr. Hajek to give me +something for it. I knocked and knocked at his door but I couldn’t +wake him, so——” + +“What time was that?” I asked. + +“I don’t know exactly. I think about one o’clock. Anyway I went back +to the basement and still couldn’t get any peace from the tooth. It +ached and ached and I got up and tried to rouse Dr. Hajek again. I +couldn’t wake him—you see, he wasn’t there at all. So I let myself out +of the main door and walked around the corner of the hospital. +Sometimes Dr. Letheny would sit up late and I thought that if there +was a light in his study, I could get something for my tooth from him. +It was the darkest night I have ever seen.” + +He paused to shake his head dolefully. + +“Anyway, pretty soon I saw a sort of green light up there on the hill, +and knew that Dr. Letheny was reading late. Well, I started toward the +path and it was so dark I could hardly find my way. When I got to the +end of the south wing, I could see that the south door was open, and +could see the light over the chart desk. The wing looked almost as +dark as it did outside.” He stopped, drew out a blue bandanna +handkerchief and wiped his forehead, though it was chilly out there on +the bridge. + +“Then—I heard something, a sort of sound like a footstep—I don’t know +exactly what it was. But it seemed to come from there near the door of +the wing. It flashed through my mind that someone was prowling about +St. Ann’s and, all at once, I remembered about the radium being used, +though I didn’t actually think that anyone was stealing it. Anyway, I +felt my way through the dark, past the porch of the wing. I went very +cautiously and stopped when I heard, just on the other side of that +big elderberry bush, two parties talking.” He stopped and used the +bandanna again, and inwardly I cursed that ambiguous word of his +class: “party.” + +“Go on,” I said impatiently. “Who were they?” + +“I heard a little of what they said,” he continued, impervious to my +eagerness. “I’ll tell you about that later. I must have made some sort +of sound, for all at once they stopped talking and went away. I +followed them but lost them in the darkness, and thinking from their +talk that they would be coming back to the hospital, I felt my way +back again, too. I was just in time to see a little light through the +window of Eighteen. It was the light of a match and by it I saw the +face of the party that”—he was whispering—“that killed Jackson. I saw +the radium being hid. Yes, miss, and I know where the radium is right +now.” + +I think I seized him by the arm and shook it, for I remember he drew +back. + +“Tell me, quick, Higgins. Hurry. Who was it?” + +“Not so fast, now, Miss Keate. I’ve got to tell my story in my own +way. Miss Keate, there was three in Room 18 that night. Yes, ma’am, +three.” + +“Three? Who were they, Higgins? Didn’t the same man kill both Jackson +and the doctor?” + +He shook his head slowly and with the most exasperating stupidity. + +“No, Miss Keate. No, that couldn’t hardly be.” + +“Could hardly be! What on earth do you mean? Who was about that night? +Whom did you see? Who was in Room 18? Speak up, man!” + +I suppose I succeeded in confusing him. + +“Wait, miss, till I finish my story. I was standing in the shadow, +staring with all my eyes at that dark window waiting for the party I +had seen to come out—when I just knew that someone was near me. I +didn’t hear a footstep nor a breath but all at once somebody was just +there. And I was holding my breath to listen when there was a sort of +a scramble at the window and I sneaked up closer to the wall. I +stumbled over a coat or something right at the window and just as I +caught myself I heard a crash from inside Room 18. That scared me, +Miss Keate.” The man paused again to scrutinize the dripping, green +curtains about us, and I caught my breath. + +“That scared me, so I stayed right there where I was, listening. I +heard a kind of a scraping sound, then it was all quiet for a minute +or two, and I thought I’d better get out of the way. I sneaked over to +the corner and stood just around it. It was so black that I couldn’t +see my hand in front of my face, but I’ve got good hearing, ma’am, and +I heard _only one party_ slip out that window and close the screen and +go away, walking light like a cat through the orchard. And it was just +then the wind came up with a bang and things began to whiz around and +I thought I’d better get back to my room. I knowed there was some +skulduggery going on, ma’am, and I didn’t want to be in on it.” He +blew his nose vigorously. I realized that my mouth was hanging open +and closed it with a snap. + +“Who was about, Higgins? Tell me at once.” I spoke very sternly, +trying at the same time to keep my teeth from chattering. The recital +had recalled all too forcibly to me the events of that black night. + +“Well, there was Dr. Letheny—of course. Then there was that Gainsay +fellow, the one that is staying up there at Letheny’s. Then there was +Corole Letheny and there was Dr. Hajek——” + +“Did you recognize all these people, Higgins?” I cried incredulously. + +He regarded me with scorn. + +“Say, didn’t I tell you I got good ears?” + +“But you could hardly recognize Mr. Gainsay, for instance, with your +ears.” + +“I didn’t,” said Higgins. “I saw his face in the light of a match.” + +“Go on,” I urged. “Who else? Who was it you saw in Eighteen? Where is +the radium?” + +Unfortunately I placed an impatient hand on his arm; he glanced down +and saw my wrist watch. + +“I’ve got to hurry,” he cried. “It’s nearly six and the fires not——” + +“Wait!” I seized his coat sleeve. “Tell me. Who did it?” + +He jerked away. “It’s late! I must hurry. I’ll see you to-night.” +Eluding my grasp he scurried away and out of sight, around the little +bend! + +Slowly my hands dropped to my sides. For some time I simply stared in +the direction he had taken and let my thoughts whirl. + +What had he seen? What had he heard? Who . . .? + +It was curious how slowly I became aware that the green curtain within +an arm’s reach was wavering. The slender leaves of willow were +trembling, shivering, dancing. The elderberry swayed gently. + +There was no wind. + +I blinked—frowned—realized its oddity—and in sudden, quick suspicion I +took a step forward, thrust the bushes aside with my arms, brushed +back the willows, took a few steps along the water’s edge and saw Jim +Gainsay vanishing into a little thicket of evergreens. + +He did not look back. He seemed to have no idea that he had been seen. +He wore no cap. I saw him clearly and unmistakably. + +So Jim Gainsay had been behind that willow curtain! Jim Gainsay had +heard Higgins’s faltering, reluctant revelations. And after brazenly +listening to the whole thing, Jim Gainsay had furtively and stealthily +slipped away, without intending that I should even be aware of his +presence. + +Concerned almost as much with this evidence of Jim Gainsay’s duplicity +as with Higgins’s tale, I stood stock-still there in that thicket, +with wet branches and leaves pressing against me on all sides. Aware +finally of a specially rude one scratching my neck I roused myself, +pushed out into the path, and took my way back to St. Ann’s. + +The thing to do, I realized, was to let O’Leary know at once of +Higgins’s story; if anyone could worm the whole tale from the janitor +it would be Lance O’Leary. But I shall have to confess that baffled +curiosity overcame me, and I resolved to get hold of Higgins +immediately and try to make him tell me, at least, whom he saw there +in Room 18. + +The supper bell was ringing when I entered the south wing. I am not +one to slight meals as a rule, but that was one time when I ignored +the summons. However, Higgins was not about and upon inquiry someone +said she thought he had gone into town. Reluctantly, then, I went to +supper. + +At the door of the dining room I met several training girls. Melvina +Smith was among them and they were talking excitedly in low voices +which they hushed as soon as they saw me, and one and all looked +guilty. + +“Well, what is it?” I said briskly. + +Melvina Smith fastened hollow eyes upon me and said in a sepulchral +voice: + +“Accident has died.” + +“Accident!” Having for the moment forgotten the christening party I +was at a loss to understand her cryptic utterance, and wondered if she +was quite right. + +“Accident,” confirmed Melvina. “The third tragedy is on its way.” + +“I must say I don’t in the least know what you are talking about,” I +remarked acidly. Melvina is very trying and carries an element of +conviction in her tones that makes one feel as if she is well +informed. + +“Accident. The kitten, you know. The black kitten,” volunteered one of +the girls hurriedly. “It died and Melvina says—” her eyes got larger +and she lowered her voice—“Melvina says—it is a _sign!_” + +“Oh, the kitten! What nonsense!” + +“He was not sick,” said Melvina in a measured and undisturbed way. “He +was not sick at all. He was, in fact, the healthiest of the whole +batch. But—he died.” + +And would you believe it I felt gooseflesh coming out on my arms? +Melvina was never intended for as matter-of-fact a profession as that +of a nurse; her talents are wasted. + +“Nonsense,” I said again, and repeated it. “Nonsense.” + +“It is a sign,” remarked Melvina in that quietly positive way. She +reached quite casually into her capacious pocket and drew out before +our very eyes the kitten. It was, to be sure, dead and quite stiff and +stark. All of us shrank back at the sight of the poor little black +body with its stiff claws outstretched and its mouth open and +grinning, but Melvina regarded it familiarly. “It was a perfectly +healthy kitten,” she went on, in the manner of the scientist who +weighs facts impartially. “It died. All at once. Just died. No reasons +for it. But it died. _It is a sign._” + +A little gasp went over the group and I found my tongue. + +“Melvina Smith,” I said, “take that kitten out into the orchard and +bury it. Then change your uniform and scrub your hands with antiseptic +soap. How long have you been carrying that thing around? Not that it +matters,” I went on hastily as Melvina opened her too-gifted mouth to +reply. “Don’t ever let me catch you doing such a thing again. +Moreover, if I hear of you saying such foolish and—yes, wicked things +again I shall have Miss Dotty give you fifty demerits and that means +no Sundays off for the rest of the summer.” + +“Miss Dotty already knows about it,” said one of the other girls. +“Melvina had it on the table showing it to us at theory class and Miss +Dotty didn’t see it and put her hand on it.” + +“She was sick,” added another girl solemnly. “She was real sick, all +at once. We wanted to practice ‘What to Do for Nausea’ on her but she +didn’t give us time.” + +“She is in her room now,” concluded the first girl with a passionate +devotion to detail. “She is in her room with a hot-water bottle and an +ice bag and a bottle of camphor.” + +“Well,” I said abruptly, feeling very much as if I were going to +imitate Miss Dotty, “take that—er—kitten outdoors at once, Melvina.” + +“Yes, Miss Keate,” said Melvina dutifully. “Do you have second watch +in the south wing to-night, Miss Keate?” + +“Certainly.” + +“My-y-y!” Melvina sucked in her breath. “Something will be sure to +happen. May I help you, Miss Keate?” + +“Good gracious, Melvina!” I cried, revolted. “Do you mean to say you +would want to be there if anything _did_ happen?” + +“Oh—no,” she said reluctantly, eyeing the kitten fondly. “But +something _will_ happen. Soon. It is a sign.” + +“Melvina!” I must have spoken firmly for Melvina wasted no time in +going about her burying and the rest of the girls hastened on down to +supper. + +It was just after supper that I was called to the telephone. + +It was O’Leary, and his voice seemed very far away. + +“Is there anyone else in the office?” he asked. + +“No.” + +“Is this line private? Is there a way for anyone to listen in?” + +“No.” + +“Then listen, Miss Keate. I can’t get out to the hospital right now +and there is something I want to know. Has anything—any article of +furniture—any—er—bed linen—blankets—pillows—anything of the sort, been +taken out of the room we are interested in?” + +“Only the soiled linens,” I replied. + +There was a long silence, so long that I repeated my answer. + +“Yes, I heard you,” he said hastily. “Are you positive about that? +Think hard, Miss Keate.” + +“Not another thing—oh, yes, last night I exchanged the loud speaker in +that room for another.” + +“You did!” His voice was eager. “When? Before or after I was in the +room?” + +“Before!” + +“Sure?” + +“Yes. The patient complained that it wasn’t working very well.” + +“What did you do—where is it now?” + +“In Sonny’s—that is, in the room where I put it, I suppose.” + +“Lord, I’m a dumbbell,” said O’Leary heartily. “Miss Keate, listen +carefully, please. Take that loud speaker, _just as it is_, to some +safe place and don’t let anyone have it until I come. Understand?” + +“Yes,” I said slowly. “But I—do you think—could it possibly be——” + +“That’s all, Miss Keate,” he interrupted. “Thank you very much.” And +before I could tell him of Higgins he had hung up the receiver and I +was left shouting “Mr. O’Leary,” into the mouthpiece. + +Feeling somewhat put out I telephoned immediately to the number he had +given me. A man-servant answered and told me rather superciliously +that Mr. O’Leary was out. On my saying the message was urgent he +brightened up, however, and took my number and name with alacrity, +promising to have Mr. O’Leary telephone me as soon as he came home. It +seemed evident to me that O’Leary believed the radium to be in the +loud speaker, and though at first I was disinclined to agree with him, +for it seemed to me that that was altogether too prominent a hiding +place, by the time I had reached the south wing, I had had time to +recall the “purloined letter,” lying there in plain sight, and was +beginning to feel considerably excited and eager to get my hands on +the loud speaker. Those loud speakers that we have at St. Ann’s are, +as Dr. Letheny had complained, specially made at the advice of a board +member who deals in radios; they are built a good deal like a small +round hat box on a standard. You’ve seen them. The parallel sides, or +what would be the top and bottom of the hat box, are made of some sort +of fancifully decorated parchment paper. They are quite attractive and +have a clear, soft tone, very nice for a hospital. The more I thought +of it the more clearly I realized that here would be a place to hide +the radium. There would be plenty of room, the speaker was +inconspicuously prominent, if I may indulge in the paradox, and while +appearing to be so permanently constructed, nevertheless one of the +sides could doubtless be removed and replaced with little evidence of +tampering. + +It could not have been more than a minute or two later that I entered +Sonny’s room and got the loud speaker. I suddenly remembered that it +was out of order and had not been fixed, but fortunately Sonny had not +asked to have the radio turned on since I had transferred it from Room +18. Or at least if he had, I hadn’t heard of it. As I left the room +the corridors were deserted. I met Maida just outside my own room and +she saw what I carried but said nothing. I went on into my room and +closed the door. + +I had fully intended to remove one of the sides of the loud speaker at +once, but in the very act of doing so I checked myself. So far as I +knew I might thus destroy some important clue. Lance O’Leary had said +nothing about examining it; he had said only to place it in +safe-keeping. It was with some disappointment that, after staring at +the thing for some time and shaking it tentatively at my ear, I placed +it face downward on the lower shelf of the chifferette and locked the +door. + +Now to find Higgins! + +Higgins was not easy to find, however. I hunted all through the +basement, the ambulance rooms, the kitchens, even went out in the +twilight to the garage, but Higgins was not to be found. It was dark +by that time so I took my way back to the hospital. Not willing to +give up I made another rapid search through the basement, but the only +living beings I saw were Morgue and the cook who was just going to bed +with a stack of forbidden newspapers under his arm. + +The cook, however, had seen Higgins. + +“Not twenty minutes ago,” he said positively. + +“Where?” + +“Let me see now—seems to me he was walking down toward the apple +orchard. That tall fellow, the one that is visiting up at Letheny’s, +was with him.” + +“Mr. Gainsay was with him!” + +“Sure.” The cook was immediately interested. “Sure. Walking down +toward the apple orchard, they was. Do you want to see Higgins, Miss +Keate?” + +“Oh, it was of no importance,” I said, and somewhat disconsolately +departed. + + + +CHAPTER 12 + +Room 18 Again + +Still feeling that I must get hold of Higgins, it was hard to compose +myself to rest and I didn’t sleep a wink. About eleven o’clock I got +up and made my way again to the basement. It was dark and spooky and +very empty down there and after knocking at Higgins’s door a few times +and feeling, while I waited for the reply that did not come, as if all +the ghosts in Christendom were prowling in the furnace room and +thereabouts, I retreated precipitously to my own room. I was sure that +Higgins was in his room, for where else would he be at that hour? But +the surroundings were not those to encourage persistence on my part. +The unused corridors are very desolate at that hour and those of the +sick-room wings little less so. + +I was still wide awake when the twelve o’clock gong sounded. + +By that time I was convinced that Higgins was deliberately keeping out +of my way and that in itself made me the more anxious to get in touch +with O’Leary. I stopped at the general office as I passed it on my way +to the south wing, and telephoned again. + +The same servant answered my ring, sleepily at first, but he awoke in +a hurry when I told him that it was Miss Keate at St. Ann’s and that I +must speak to Mr. O’Leary at once. + +“You might try the police station,” he said guardedly. “I think he was +investigating some telegraph messages that just came in.” + +So I looked up the number in the telephone book and tried it. But +though I tried and tried, the line was busy and kept busy and I had to +give up in order to be on time at the south wing. + +Olma Flynn was waiting for me and Maida already busy about +twelve-o’clock temperatures. + +“Eleven is doing pretty well to-night,” said Olma as we bent over the +charts. “Three has a degree or so of fever but has been fairly quiet. +Oh, by the way, have you the key to the south door?” + +“No.” + +She frowned. + +“I couldn’t find it. I had to leave the south door unlocked.” + +“Couldn’t find it!” + +“No. It wasn’t anywhere about the desk.” + +“Did you look in the lock?” + +“Of course, Miss Keate. And I asked the other girls. No one has seen +it since morning.” + +In view of the existing circumstances, I suppose it was natural that I +should feel immediately alarmed. After Olma had gone wearily away to +bed I gave the chart desk and its vicinity a thorough search. + +“What on earth are you doing?” asked Maida, coming along just as I had +taken all the charts out of the rack and was feeling about with my +fingers in the recesses left empty. + +“Looking for the key to the south door,” I replied. “Have you seen +it?” + +“No. I have not seen it since last night.” + +She waited for a moment, watching me rearrange the charts. + +“I wish this trouble were all cleared up,” she said, her voice sombre. + +“So do I.” I replaced the last chart and turned to face her. The +greenish light from above the desk made her face worn and colourless +and cast a sickly green glow over our white dresses. + +“If we don’t find it to-morrow I shall have to have a new key made. I +suppose we can leave the south door unlocked to-night,” I decided +irresolutely. “I don’t like to; I have had enough of people prowling +through our wing.” + +Maida’s shadowed eyes met mine and she shivered slightly; she +attempted to smile but her lips pulled tautly. + +“It is getting to disturb me more and more,” she admitted. “Think of +this, Sarah: it has been only four days since that dinner party of +Corole’s. Is it possible! So much has happened. It seems like months.” + +“This is Tuesday,” I calculated, “That was last Thursday night—no, +Maida, five days.” + +“Well, five days then,” she assented lifelessly. “What a five days! If +it would only turn warm and summery and sunshiny again, I do believe +things would be better off. I’m sure I should be at least!” + +“I dislike this constant drizzle,” I agreed, without much spirit. +“There is something honest and whole-hearted about real rain, but +weather like this is wretched.” + +“Everything I touch is clammy like—like a dead man.” She whispered the +last words and I think they came as a surprise to her, for she looked +frightened and a little shocked. + +A small red light shone down the corridor above a door and I started +to answer it. + +“Don’t forget to—er——” + +“Keep my eyes on the south door?” finished Maida with a bleak smile. + +“Exactly.” I tried to smile, too. I remember thinking, as I walked +briskly toward the signal, that our words were not unlike those of +soldiers going into battle—in spirit, at least. I saw something of +that in 1918; I was in a hospital that was once, mistakenly I hope, +shelled. In a choice between the shelled hospital on that lurid front +and the dreary, clammy nights of second watch at St. Ann’s, where +every stir made your breath catch, and every whispering noise made +your skin crawl, I’d much prefer the shelled hospital. There the +terror was expected; its source was known. Here, every doorway was a +silent menace; every room and every turn and every alcove might +harbour death. The hospital seemed too roomy, too large, too dark. Our +very skirts seemed to whisper and hiss with fear along those blank +corridors and empty walls and half-lights and shadows. + +I had left the door of the general office open and while going about +my work listened for the telephone. Dr. Hajek is supposed to answer it +at night, having his room off the office for that purpose, but I hoped +that if I heard the ring when O’Leary first called, I would be able to +get to the telephone by the time Fred Hajek, who is a heavy sleeper, +was aroused. + +And when I finally heard the subdued buzz I happened to be at the +chart desk and simply dropped pen and all and ran through the corridor +that connects us with the main portion of the hospital. + +I took the receiver off the hook and was panting so heavily that I had +to wait for a second to catch my breath before answering. The door to +Dr. Hajek’s room remained closed and Dr. Balman, in the inner office, +had not been aroused either, so I must have made the distance in +nothing flat—whatever that is—I picked up the term from a patient who +was interested in sports and believe it to mean a very rapid pace. + +It was O’Leary, of course. + +“This is Miss Keate,” I said in a low voice, hoping that the sound of +it would not carry past those closed doors. “I am very anxious to see +you.” + +He must have caught the urgency in my voice. + +“Shall I come right out?” + +“Yes. At once.” + +“Very well. In fifteen minutes.” + +The receiver clicked, I hung up my own softly, straightened my cap and +walked back to the south wing. Maida was not to be seen. I sat down at +the desk and found that in my haste to get to the telephone I had +upset the red ink I was in the act of using. It was meandering gayly +across the desk, reddening everything it touched, and I seized some +trash out of the waste basket for a blotter. It was while I was +mopping up the ink that all at once, without even a warning flicker, +the light above the desk went out, leaving me in total darkness. It +was so unexpected that I gasped and cried out. + +Then I turned as if to look down the corridor, but nothing but a close +black curtain met my eyes. There was not a gleam of light. Every +signal light was gone; there was not even a glimmer of light from +under the doors of kitchen or drug room or linen closet. I was +suspended in a breathless black void. + +And down that black emptiness, only five nights ago, two men had been +violently done to death! + +My breath began to come in painful, rasping gasps. I must do +something. I must find Maida. I must get a lamp. Must make my way to +the basement switch-box and replace a burned-out fuse—or find what had +caused the trouble. + +Or was it an accident? Had a fuse actually gone? Could it be that the +lights had purposely been disconnected? + +The terrifying question had not more than entered my head when from +somewhere down the corridor a cold current of air struck me. + +I shivered. Some door or window had been opened. Some door—the south +door! Was it the south door? + +I was standing, gripping the chair back, loath to leave that firm, +stationary thing and venture forth into the surrounding blackness that +was alive, now, with foreboding and the menace of unspeakable things. +Was something moving? Did I hear a stealthy footstep? Was it the +thudding of my own heart? + +I strove to move, to force my horror-drugged muscles to advance that +length of grisly blackness toward—toward Room 18. + +I tried to call out: “Maida—Maida—” I kept saying and finally realized +that my stiff lips were only shaping the words. + +What was happening down there? Was Room 18 claiming another—— Was—— I +took a step into the darkness, tore my reluctant hands from the chair, +and groped for the wall to guide me past the yawning emptiness of +those intervening doors. + +With outstretched, shaking hands, I was feeling for some stable thing +to guide me, when, in that dead silence, there was a shattering crash +of sound. + +It was a revolver shot! The crash reverberated through the halls, +echoing and reëchoing in those empty spaces and about those blank +doors. + +Then gradually the frightful echoes died away. The blackness pressed +in upon me, more suffocating than before, and again dead silence +reigned. + +For a moment I must have been numb with shock. Then there were +footsteps running, a cry, the clicking of signal lights that did not +light, and I was running, stumbling, gasping, bumping into doors, +trying to reach the end of the corridor. And Room 18. + +Along the way I collided with something, something moving that twisted +away from me and cried out. It was Maida and at my voice she answered. + +“What is it! What has happened! Was it Room 18?” + +“Room 18! What can we——” + +“We must have a light. In the kitchen—there’s a candle——” I heard the +swift, soft thud of her feet as they moved away and I kept on, feeling +along the cold, dank wall, groping my way past open doors. It seemed +an eternity before I reached the end of the corridor and felt the +small panes of glass in the south door under my fingers. I turned +sharply to the left. Beyond that black void stretched Room 18. I +paused at its threshold but something drove me on, into the room. + +Here was the wall. Here was the electric light button. Here the +bedside table. I bent, feeling along the rough weave of the +counterpane on the bed, took a few steps further, trod on something +hideously soft and yielding, and sprang backward in stark terror. + +Afraid to move, afraid to breathe, my heart clamouring in my throat +choking me, my hands pressed against my teeth, I could not even +scream. + +What lay there? What was in that room? + +Then I realized dimly that Maida was coming, that a small circle of +light was at the door, that a hand was holding a lamp unsteadily and +the wavering flame was casting grotesque shadows on Maida’s chin and +mouth. Above them her eyes were wide and black and mirrored my terror. + +I saw her hand advance, pointing at my feet. It shook. Her mouth +opened in a voiceless cry and I forced myself to look downward. + +It was Higgins, sprawled there at the foot of the bed. He had been +shot! + +Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved. + +At last Maida withdrew her hand. + +“Set the lamp down,” I heard someone saying—it must have been I. “Set +the lamp down before you drop it.” + +We did not hear O’Leary enter the south door. All at once he was there +with us, staring at the thing there on the floor, holding his electric +torch to illumine it. + +“When did it happen? How? Come into the hall. Tell me. Was I too +late?” + +Somehow we were out in the corridor; the lamp was left on the table in +Room 18. The light from its small flame trembled and cast eery, +creeping shadows. + +“Quick,” said O’Leary. “Take that lamp to the basement, Miss Day. The +light switch has been pulled out. You know where the switch-box is——” + +I saw Maida flinch but she took the lamp, averting her eyes from the +floor. + +“Hurry! No, Miss Keate, stay here, please, at the door. If anyone +tries to get in, stop him! Scream! I’ll not be far away.” + +In a flash he was gone, out the south door. I was still standing as if +petrified, there in front of the south door, when the green light over +the chart desk at the opposite end of the corridor flashed up and the +little red signal lights gleamed suddenly all up and down the hall. I +breathed a sigh of relief; Maida was all right, then. And in another +moment or two her white uniform came into view at the chart desk. + +“All right, thank you, Miss Keate,” came a voice at my elbow. It was +O’Leary, his hat gone, his hair ruffled, his eyes shining like +phosphorescent flashes on a deep-lying sea. “Come with me, please,” he +said. + +“Was the fuse burned out?” asked O’Leary as we met Maida, who was +hurrying to answer the signals. + +She shook her head. Her eyes were hollow and dark and her face as +white as her cap. + +“The main switch had been pulled out.” + +“What I expected,” muttered O’Leary, as we sped along the corridor. + +Lights were gleaming from the north wing, and the night-duty nurses +from that wing were clustered in a frightened group in the main hall. +As they saw us they ran forward. + +“What was it, Miss Keate—we heard a shot—what has happened?” And down +the stairs tumbled several nurses in uniforms and kimonos and Miss +Dotty with her hair in paper curlers and her eyes distracted. + +O’Leary paid no attention to them. I followed him into the general +office. He rapped sharply, first at Dr. Hajek’s door, then at the door +of the inner office. Then he put his hand on the latch of the door to +the inner office and pushed. It was not locked and opened readily; the +light from the office streamed through the door. + +“O’Leary! What has happened? What is it?” Dr. Balman, his eyes +blinking anxiously in the light, was tossing back the covers and +springing from his bed. + +“There has been another murder in Room 18,” said O’Leary. + +“Another—what! Who?” + +“The janitor—Higgins.” And at that second the door to Dr. Hajek’s room +opened and Dr. Hajek, his bathrobe hugged about him, ran toward us. + +“What was that? What did you say? Higgins? Dead?” + +In a few, terse words O’Leary explained and by that time we were all +hurrying back to the south wing, Dr. Balman’s white pajamas leading +the way. I did not enter Room 18 again with them. + +There was plenty of work waiting for me in the wing. As if to make bad +matters worse the nurses from all over the hospital were crowding into +the south-wing corridor, their pallid faces and wild questions adding +to the confusion. The excitement was becoming tumultuous when Dr. +Balman came into the corridor, a strange figure in his pajamas and +bare feet, his thin hair rumpled and his eyes worried. + +“There has been an accident,” he said. His voice carried though it was +very low. “Please return immediately to duty. Do not be alarmed.” And +it was curious to see the nurses scattering hastily like frightened +children caught in mischief. + +For a while I had not time or eyes for anything but work. It was +difficult enough to calm and soothe the patients of our wing and I +paid no attention to the closed door of Eighteen, the flying trips +through the corridor made by the two doctors, or O’Leary’s gray suit +and thoughtful countenance and shining eyes here and there about the +wing. + +When the police began to arrive, entering the wing by the south door +so as not to be seen by those from other wings, it was a great deal +like the repetition of a bad dream. It continued so until along about +four o’clock when an ambulance, gleaming oddly white and distinct in +the cold gray dawn, was drawn up at the south door. I did not see them +leave. + +I was trying to control my still shaking hands in order to get the +neglected charts written up before turning things over to the day +nurses, when O’Leary paused beside me and sat down in the vacant +chair. + +“What is that on your hands?” he asked suddenly as I wrote. + +I glanced at my hands and jumped. + +“Oh!” I remembered. “It is only red ink. I was cleaning up some that I +had spilled when—when the lights went out.” + +“When the lights were turned out,” he corrected. “How soon will you +finish that thing?” + +“I am through now.” I verified the chart hastily and thrust it in its +place in the rack. “Have you—found anything?” + +“Yes.” He spoke coolly. “I have—found a good deal. First, though, why +did you telephone for me?” + +“Why, it was Higgins! It was Higgins and now it is too late!” + +His gray eyes studied me. + +“What do you mean?” + +My heart began to thump as speculation aroused within me. + +“Higgins,” I said, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Higgins saw the +face of the man that killed Mr. Jackson.” + +There was a moment of silence so profound that the very walls seemed +to whisper and echo my words; someone in the kitchen nearby dropped a +spoon and at the metallic little rattle O’Leary stirred. + +“Higgins—saw the face of the man who killed Jackson,” he repeated +slowly. “How do you know, Miss Keate?” + +As rapidly as possible I repeated to him the whole of my amazing +conversation with Higgins. Then, more reluctantly, I told him of Jim +Gainsay’s presence back of the willows where he could overhear every +word we had spoken. I told him also of what the cook had said. + +His inscrutable eyes studying me shrewdly, O’Leary said nothing until +I had finished. + +“Then Jim Gainsay heard Higgins not only admit his dangerous knowledge +but promise to tell you to-night the name of that man. _To-night._” + +“Yes.” Then as I caught the emphasis, I went on hurriedly: “But Jim +Gainsay had nothing to do with his death. I saw nothing of Jim Gainsay +to-night. I—I am sure . . .” My voice trailed breathlessly away under +O’Leary’s sharp regard. + +“And as far as we know now Jim Gainsay was the last person to see +Higgins alive?” He continued quite as if I had not rushed to Jim +Gainsay’s defence. + +“As far as we know _now_,” I pointed out. “We may find that someone +talked to him after he was seen with Jim Gainsay.” + +“Gainsay overheard your conversation. The man whose face Higgins saw +had everything to lose at such evidence. No one but Gainsay and you, +Miss Keate, knew of its existence. I’m sorry; Gainsay seems to be a +decent enough young fellow.” He paused, fumbled in his pocket, drew +out the shabby stub of a pencil and began turning it over and over in +his slender, well-kept fingers. + +The light above my head was paling in the slow, gray light of early +morning which was struggling in through the windows and making the +whole place more desolate and more grim and forbidding than it had +been in the dark of night. + +“It is a difficult situation,” he said presently. + +I pushed my cap farther back on my head and rubbed my hand across my +eyes—eyes that were tired and weary with what they had seen that +night. + +“I dread the effect of this night’s doing; it will almost demoralize +our staff, to say nothing of its effect upon outsiders. We are looking +to you to straighten out this hideous tangle. And it must be soon.” + +His face was very sober. + +“I hope to do so,” he said gravely. “I think I am not saying too much +when I tell you that I have good reason to hope for success.” + +There was a restrained little throb of exhilaration in his voice. + +“Do you mean——” I began sharply. He interrupted me. + +“I mean only that I am beginning to arrive at some conclusions.” And +without giving me a chance to ask what those conclusions were he +continued at once: “Are you sure Higgins said it was a _man’s_ face +that he saw?” + +I went back in my memory, over that brief and baffling conversation, +now never to be finished. Poor Higgins! + +“No,” I said thoughtfully. “He did not definitely say it was a man. +I—I’m afraid I just assumed it to be a man.” + +“Assuming is dangerous,” said O’Leary quietly. “But he did say that he +saw three people?” + +“He said he knew that there were three people in Room 18 that night.” + +“And that there were four people—Corole Letheny and Dr. Hajek and Jim +Gainsay and—Dr. Letheny in and about St. Ann’s that dark midnight?” + +I nodded confirmatively. + +“He said, too, that he saw Jim Gainsay’s face by the light of a match. +And that he saw the face of the man—or person—who killed Jackson by +the light of the match.” + +“But that doesn’t prove——” I began hotly. + +“No—no, of course not,” he said absently. “You say he was of the +opinion that the man——” + +“He kept saying the ‘party’,” I interpolated. + +“Who killed Jackson and the—the party——” with a rather grim tightening +of his lips, O’Leary adopted Higgins’s terms—“Who killed Dr. Letheny +was not the same person.” + +“He said ‘no, that couldn’t hardly be.’” Strange how vividly I +recalled his hesitating confession. + +“It is apparent, of course, that the man in Room 18 must have had some +sort of light, if only for a second, in order to conceal the radium. +Higgins knew where it was all the time. He swore to me that he had +slept through the whole night. Well——” O’Leary’s shoulders lifted a +little. + +“We will never know now what Higgins saw,” I commented, my thoughts +sombre. + +O’Leary raised his eyes from the pencil for a moment. + +“Don’t be too sure of that, Miss Keate. Did you get the speaker for +me?” + +“Yes.” + +“Put it in a _safe_ place?” + +I nodded. “I longed to look inside it but did not.” + +He smiled. + +“Suppose we look now.” + +The rustle of my starched skirts echoed against the empty gray-white +walls. The general office was deserted, likewise the stairs and +corridors. Once in my room I unlocked the door of the chifferette, +withdrew the speaker, and holding it carefully, hastened back to the +south wing. O’Leary was still sitting beside the chart desk, his gray +gaze on Maida, who was bent over an entry she was making on Three’s +chart. If she wondered what I was doing with the loud speaker she did +not say so but returned immediately to Three. + +I set the speaker down on the shining glass top of the chart desk. My +hands were shaking a little and I held my breath while O’Leary removed +one of the sides of the speaker. We both peered into it. Then O’Leary +put his hand inside and groped around. + +We stared at the compact arrangement of wires and tiny coils and +screws, then met each other’s gaze. + +“Nothing!” I said. + +“Nothing!” confirmed O’Leary. He studied the thing thoughtfully for a +moment. + +“Did anyone see you take this to your room?” + +“No one. That is, no one but—but Maida. I met her at the door just as +I was carrying it to my room.” + +“Miss Day—h’mm.” And after another pause: “Are you sure that this is +the same speaker that was in Room 18?” + +“Why, yes. No. That is—” I hastened to explain as he cast a decidedly +irritated glance at me—“that is, I mean that this is the speaker that +was in Sonny’s room and I just assumed it to be the one that I had +left there.” + +“Assuming again,” remarked O’Leary with dry disapproval. “It might +have been one from another room, then?” + +“Yes. It might have been. But I think——” + +“Did you know that the speaker at present in Room 18 has been torn +open, probably during the night?” + +“What!” + +“Evidently the—er—visitor in Room 18 to-night thought what we thought +and did not know that the original speaker in Room 18 had been +removed. Or else——” He left his sentence uncompleted, turned abruptly +and strode down the hall to Sonny’s room. + +I followed him to the door. Sonny was awake. + +“Good-morning,” said O’Leary kindly. “It is rather early in the +morning for young fellows like you to be awake. Look here, Sonny, the +other night Miss Keate brought in a loud-speaker for the radio +attachment, just like this one in my hand. She left it here and took +away the one that you already had on your table. Then last night, she +came in and took away the speaker she had left with you. I want to +know whether the loud speaker she took away last night was the very +same speaker she brought in here.” + +Sonny looked bewildered and O’Leary repeated his question patiently +and clearly. + +“Why, no,” said Sonny finally. “That speaker she brought in wouldn’t +work.” + +“What happened to it, then?” + +“Why”—Sonny frowned—“Miss Day was in to see me and I told her the +speaker wasn’t working so she took it away and brought me another. The +one she brought in worked fine. But Miss Keate came and got it last +night.” He looked reproachfully at me. + +“Thank you, Sonny,” said O’Leary briefly. + +I have never seen O’Leary showing any feeling or excitement, but there +were eighteen rooms in that wing and I don’t think it took him +eighteen minutes to examine all the loud speakers in the whole wing. +He did not omit one save, of course, that already rifled speaker in +Room 18. + +When he had finished, still without any results that I could see, he +went to Maida. + +“Miss Day,” he began, “you took a loud speaker exactly like this +one”—he still carried under his arm the instrument that I had so +futilely treasured—“from Sonny’s room last night. What did you do with +it?” + +Maida put back a wisp of black hair that had strayed from under her +immaculate cap; her blue eyes regarded us steadily from the weary, +dark circles about them. + +“I put it on the table in Room 18,” she replied at once. “It was out +of order somehow, and I thought likely Room 18 would be unoccupied. So +I simply exchanged the speakers.” + +“Thank you, Miss Day. You did not—er—examine it closely to see what +was wrong with it?” + +“No,” she said. “I know nothing of such things; I couldn’t possibly +have repaired it.” + +She went on about her errand. + +“A strange case,” mused O’Leary, his clear, gray eyes following the +slim, white-clad figure moving away from us. “The speaker in Room 18 +was the right one, after all. The question is, was the radium in it +and if so who took it? Who has it now? When we know that answer we +will know who shot poor old Higgins.” He went to the window over the +chart desk, flung it up to the sash, and took a deep breath of the +fog-laden air. His intent young face, his curiously lucid gray eyes, +showed no hint of a night without sleep. + +“A strange case,” he repeated absently. He turned from the dripping +gray orchard beyond the window, fingered idly the bronzed surface of +the loud speaker there on the desk. + +“Another thing, Miss Keate—did you notice that when Dr. Hajek came +from his room to-night, presumably from his bed, he wore trousers +under that bathrobe that he held so tightly to him? And that those +trousers had fresh, wet mud stains about the cuffs?” + +I murmured something, I don’t know what, and O’Leary met my shocked +gaze quietly. + +“And furthermore,” he said softly, “I found fresh mud stains on the +window sill of his room. Really, Miss Keate, this hospital of yours +should have been built with its first floor higher from the ground. +Entrances and exits are too easy.” + + + +CHAPTER 13 + +The Radium Appears + +How true it is that time, in retrospect, is measured by the events +occurring therein. By which I mean, of course, that while the whole +sequence of mysterious and shocking events that so deeply troubled us +there at St. Ann’s really occurred during a period of only a few days, +when I look back at the affair it seems to have extended over weeks. +It was true, too, that every day seemed to bring its problems and +those before yesterday’s problems were solved. In fact these problems +so crowded each other that the only way in which I can recall their +exact sequence is by referring to the days on which they took place. +For instance, I see that in my account book where I have an orderly +habit of noting certain things such as birthdays of relatives, dates +when my insurance falls due, and such matters, I have noted several +items under Wednesday, June 13th: + + Higgins killed in Eighteen during second watch, last night. No clue + so far as I know. Wish J.G. would go on about his bridge building. + Whole hospital much upset; several nurses threatening to leave. + Police underfoot everywhere and suppose it means the whole thing + over again. Sent laundry this A.M. Am getting nervous about second + watch. Twelve pearl buttons. Wish this affair were safely over. + +The “twelve pearl buttons” entry, of course, referred to the fact that +I had forgotten to take them out of one of my uniforms before it went +to the laundry and must remember to telephone the laundry about them. +It was owing to these buttons, however, that one of the most singular +and troublesome facts of the whole week came to my attention. + +If the second watch of the previous night had seemed like a repetition +of a bad dream, then that day, Wednesday, was its continuation. The +directors, irate and fussy and hysterically horrified, descended upon +St. Ann’s. There were the police, O’Leary, and newspaper men just as +it had been before. The only difference was that this last development +seemed more terrible than that other—if that were possible. There was +a rather grisly fear stalking through the hushed hospital corridors: +Who would be the next victim? + +The inquest was held at once, that very morning. It was a brief and +formal affair, held in the main office with only a few present. +Nothing was proved beyond the immediate fact of Higgins’s death and +nothing was mentioned that I did not already know. It was evident that +O’Leary regarded Higgins’s death as another piece in the puzzle that +confronted him and not as an isolated crime. + +Shortly after lunch Lance O’Leary called me into the office. + +“Why did you not tell me that the key to the south door disappeared +last night?” he began abruptly. + +“I forgot it. I ordered a new key to be made for that lock and will +have it before night. But of course I had to leave the south door +unlocked last night.” + +“It seems to me you forget rather important things.” He spoke sharply. + +“I have certain duties to think of,” I responded as sharply. “And +anyway you didn’t ask me.” + +The tightness around his eyes relaxed somewhat but he did not smile. +He rose, went to the door, and after a dissatisfied glance into the +main hall he beckoned me into the inner office, shut the door and sat +down at the desk. For a moment he sat there silently, his face in his +hands. + +“Sit down, Miss Keate,” he said presently, motioning toward Dr. +Balman’s cot, and as I did so he swung around in the swivel chair to +face me. “Hope nobody wants to use this room for a few moments,” he +said wearily. “I’ve got to think. Look here, was that key gone when +you came on duty last night at twelve o’clock?” + +“Yes. Olma Flynn, who has first watch, could not find it. She told me +of its disappearance as soon as I came on duty.” + +He nodded slowly. + +“Thus providing an easy way into St. Ann’s. . . . Into the south +wing——” he murmured, and broke off, staring into space, his eyes +clouded and far away. + +Then all at once he began to talk, leaned back in the chair, and +linked his hands together. + +“In the first place,” he began, “I am convinced that the three crimes +are all linked together and that the possession of the radium is the +guiding motive. Other motives, such as protection or fear, may enter +into the affair but the radium is the main thing. If the radium was +actually placed in that loud speaker, it is now in the hands of the +person who killed Higgins. To secure the radium was the reason for his +entrance into the south wing and into Room 18 last night. We can’t +know why Higgins was there—unless—unless—— You say that he knew where +the radium was hidden; he may have tried to take it himself into his +own hands.” + +He paused as if to consider that possibility; it did not appear to +convince him, for he made an impatient gesture. + +“Dr. Hajek,” he resumed, “has flatly denied that he was out last +night; the mud has been brushed off his trousers and off the window +sill and it is my word against his. Why is he lying? Then, too, there +was someone from the Letheny cottage about the grounds last night. +Huldah says that someone left the house about midnight; she heard +footsteps on the stairs, and the front door squeaks. She did not know +whether it was Gainsay or Miss Letheny, but she is certain that +someone went out of that house about midnight and returned probably an +hour later.” + +“Huldah tells the truth always——” I began, but checked myself. If he +was willing to talk I was more than willing to listen. + +However, I had interrupted him; he looked at me directly and began to +speak more briskly and less as if he were thinking aloud. + +“You see, Miss Keate, it is all simmering down to the same group, the +same circle of those in and about St. Ann’s. No one else could have +stolen the key to the south door. And as I say, I am inclined to +believe that all three crimes had the same motive, if not the same +motivating force.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“I mean that in the first two crimes we find several means of death. +This leads me to believe that there was a definite plan to steal the +radium, possibly on the part of more than one person. In fact, I am +quite sure that more than one person had determined to get hold of +that radium. But the radium was left in the room. Hidden, but still in +Room 18. Why? There is only one possible reason. The thief was +interrupted, was forced to hide it there in order to return for it +later. But why did the radium remain for so long in the speaker? Why +did not the thief return for it earlier in the game? It all points to +there being several people interested in that radium, which means, of +course, that we may be trying to discover three murderers instead of +only one.” + +“_Three!_” + +“There were three murders,” he said, laconically cool in the face of +my horror. “And Higgins’s statement seems to make it sure that the +first two murders were not committed by the same man.” + +“I am positive that the radium was concealed in the loud speaker,” he +continued after a short pause. “There was no place else for it to be +and it must have been in Room 18, for otherwise we would not have had +such a series of disturbances in and about that room. Yes, it is +evident that several people were convinced that the radium was still +in the room and were searching for it. The thing that bothers me is +the failure of the—er—original thief to return and remove the radium +before anyone else found it.” + +“Perhaps it was he last night,” I suggested. + +O’Leary did not appear to hear me. + +“There is only one reason and that—if true—is amazing.” He reached +absently for the shabby little stub of pencil and began twisting it in +his fingers, which convinced me that he was on his feet again, so to +speak. + +Whatever the “amazing” speculation was that had occurred to him, he +said nothing more of it. + +“I have eliminated certain factors. The first thing to do, you know is +to narrow the field of investigation. I find that Mr. Jackson’s +relatives, who might be supposed to have an interest in his death, +have iron-clad alibis.” + +“Oh.” I spoke none too brightly as I had never given a thought to Mr. +Jackson’s relatives. + +“Likewise I am gradually eliminating the unknown factor—I mean by that +the possibility of an outsider, a hobo, perhaps, or professional thief +acting on the spur of the moment, or following out a planned course of +action. It seems more and more certain that those guilty of these +crimes are people who are in and about St. Ann’s. But since that phase +of the matter is so distasteful to you. . . .” His voice trailed away +into nothing, he dropped the pencil, adjusted his tie, looked at his +watch, ran a hand through his hair and reached for the pencil again. + +“There are a few matters of which I’ve been wanting to talk with you, +Miss Keate. This—” he lowered his voice—“this Hajek. Somehow I have +got the impression that he and Miss Letheny see a good deal of each +other. Different people have mentioned seeing them together. Huldah +says he is a frequent caller. What do you think?” + +“Why, yes—now that I think of it, it does seem to me that they have a +sort of——” At loss for a word I stopped. O’Leary completed the +sentence. + +“Understanding?” + +“Well, yes. And yet I have seen nothing definite. It is just a feeling +that I have. And of course, the fact that he has been up at the +Letheny cottage a great deal. I’ve seen him there often.” + +He twisted the pencil up and down; I wondered that there was any shred +of paint remaining on the shabby thing. + +“Another thing,” he began rather hesitantly. “They say—don’t ask me +who says, for it is a sort of drifting gossip that we detectives have +to encourage—they say that Dr. Letheny admired the pretty nurse.” + +“The pretty nurse. Who?” + +“I thought you’d guess,” he said quietly. “I mean Miss Day.” + +“If he did admire her, I never knew it,” I said with vigour. + +“You never even surmised it?” he persisted gently. + +“No,” I said bluntly. “Certainly not.” And then recalled certain +things. That last dinner—Dr. Letheny’s smouldering eyes on Maida—the +gesture with which he took her wrap—those burning, restless eyes +seeking her in the corridor of the south wing before he turned away +through the door and I caught my last glimpse of Dr. Letheny alive. +“That is—perhaps—yes,” I amended in a smaller voice. + +“Did Miss Day return his—interest?” + +“No. I’m sure that she did not. Quite the contrary.” + +“Quite the contrary?” + +“I mean that I believe she disliked him particularly. I do not know +why.” + +He lifted his eyes from the pencil. They were clear now and very gray. + +“You would likely know,” he said casually. “You possess the strangest +aura of—integrity. One feels you are a respecter of confidences. I +presume you are the repository of many secrets.” + +“I’m sure I don’t know any secrets,” I replied hastily. The man +needn’t think he could worm things out of me. “I wish,” I added, “I +wish that you had talked to Higgins.” + +His expression became serious at once. + +“I wish so too,” he said soberly. “Though as far as that goes I did +talk to Higgins, but couldn’t get a thing out of him. He must have +been desperately afraid of getting into trouble.” He eyed the stub of +pencil solicitously. “. . . getting into trouble,” he repeated +musingly. + +“If I had only known the danger he was in,” I said regretfully. “But +somehow we never know until it is too late.” + +“About this matter of the lights going out last night. It seems to +coincide too strangely with the affair of Thursday night. The lights +being out at that time was, of course, an accident, but one is +inclined to think that someone profited by that accident to such an +extent that he decided to repeat the fortuitous circumstances. But it +was actually no accident this time; the switch plug had been purposely +pulled out. Now then, the switch box is in the basement, on the wall +next to the grade door that leads out just below the main entrance.” + +I nodded as his keen, serious eyes rose to mine. + +“That grade door was locked and the key inside the lock as it should +be. Was there time, Miss Keate, between the lights going out and the +sound of the shot for someone to come from that grade door around the +corner of the hospital, enter the south door in the darkness, go into +Eighteen, which is right next to the south door, take the radium from +the loud speaker and—and that is as far as we know. We can only +surmise, now, how Higgins came into it.” + +“The intruder might have been Higgins, himself.” I was suddenly struck +by the thought. “He would have access to the basement, could have +stolen the key from the chart desk that would open the south door if +it were locked. Perhaps he was taking the radium out of the speaker; +he told me, you know, that he knew where it was hidden.” + +“All the circumstances point to what we call an inside job,” admitted +O’Leary slowly. “But someone besides Higgins was in Room 18.” + +“The window?” I suggested. + +“No. He could not have come through the window for it was still +bolted. How about it, Miss Keate?” He returned to his inquiry. “How +long a time elapsed between the lights going out and the sound of the +shot?” + +“It seemed a long time,” I said hesitantly. “You see, it was so still +and dark and I was a little frightened. I waited for a few moments, +thinking that the lights would come on again. Yes, I think there was +time enough for—for all that you think took place. While I waited I +felt a current of air on my shoulders.” + +He looked up quickly. + +“That was the door opening, then. You are sure about the length of +time? You see it is rather important that we settle that point +definitely for if there was not time for all that to go on, it would +indicate that there were two people, _besides Higgins_, who were +interested in getting into Room 18 last night. And that one of them +managed the business of turning off the lights and the other came into +Room 18 with the results of which we know. Confound it!” He broke off +suddenly. “I wish I needn’t have to figure on more than one or two +ways of getting in and out of this old hospital. Don’t you _ever_ have +thieves in a hospital! Don’t you ever have to safeguard yourselves!” + +“Only the third and fourth floor windows,” I said absently. + +He snorted. + +“The third and fourth floor windows! That does me a lot of good!” + +“On account of delirious patients,” I said rebukingly. “And as for +there being two people trying to get the radium, I think there must be +at least that many. I don’t believe that one person, alone and +unaided, could make so much trouble.” + +He grinned faintly at that, and then frowned. + +“The chief of police wants to arrest the whole outfit at once. He is +convinced that you are all in a conspiracy and that Gainsay is the +leader. Of course, I don’t want to make such a wholesale cleaning. +Especially since I—I believe that I’m getting warm. But I don’t want +any arrests yet. I don’t want to put anybody on guard.” + +“Mr. O’Leary,” I said eagerly, emboldened by his half-confidence. “I +have heard things of you, of course—what wonderful success you have +and all that. What methods do you use?” + +He thrust his hands into his pockets, leaned back in the chair and +sighed. + +“Methods? I don’t have any methods. And as to success—wait a few +days.” + +“You don’t have any methods?” + +“The moment when I’m feeling most useless and most like a failure is +not the moment to ask me to tell of my successes. Or my methods. I +don’t have methods. I take what the Lord sends and am thankful. +Sometimes it is a matter of luck. Mostly it is a matter of drudgery +and hard work. Always it is a matter of thinking, thinking, thinking. +Of eating, living, sleeping with problems for days and nights. +Usually, just about the time you have decided that none of the pieces +of the puzzle can possibly fit, all at once something happens +and—Click! Things clarify. There is a reason for everything. Nothing +just happens. Nothing is an isolated fact. If you have a fact, you +know that certain circumstances had to combine to bring it about. It +is just logic, reason, the physical, material quality of cause and +effect. There isn’t anything mysterious about it. It is just the—the +arithmetic of analysis. I don’t mean that I am infallible. I have to +reconsider and revise and correct mistakes, just like anybody else. +I’m human—and young. But when you _know_ that there is a solution, to +the most puzzling problem, all there is to do is worry it out. I +suppose the subconscious mind helps.” + +“That is rather abstract,” I said slowly. + +“I suppose it sounds that way. Well—here is one definite and concrete +trick. As a rule, given enough rope a man can hang himself. Often I +find that there will be one little circumstance that only the guilty +man knows. Sooner or later he lets it out. Sometimes I have to trap +the man I suspect into such an admission.” + +I’m sure my eyes were popping out. + +“Then that is why you made that extraordinary request of me at the +first inquest!” I exclaimed. “I could not understand it. The thing you +mentioned seemed so insignificant.” + +It was remarkable that his eyes could be so clear and so unfathomable +at the same time. + +“I trust you are discreet,” he said evenly. + +“Oh, I shan’t tell, if that is what you mean,” I promised hastily. “I +am as interested in solving this mystery as you are. Indeed, I think I +may say that I am far more deeply interested.” + +“Well, keep your eyes and ears open,” he said, smiling and rising to +open the door for me, and I found myself out in the main hall before I +knew it. + +It was only a few moments later that I saw him leave; I remember +standing at the window beside the main entrance, and watching his long +gray roadster swoop silently and swiftly around the curve of the main +driveway and into the road. He was seated at the wheel, a slight gray +figure, intent only on the muddy highway ahead of him. There was a +suggestion of power, of invincibility, in the very repose and economy +of motion with which he controlled the long-nosed roadster. + +As I turned away I met Maida. + +“Such a day!” she murmured with a sigh. “Have you been able to sleep?” + +“I haven’t tried,” I said. “I knew it would be no use.” + +“Miss Dotty is still upset,” went on Maida. “And the training nurses +are following their own devices, and everybody is afraid of her own +shadow. I wish this business was all settled and forgotten about.” + +“You don’t wish it any more than I do,” I agreed fervently. “But I do +think that O’Leary is doing everything within his power.” + +“I suppose so,” said Maida, without much conviction. She was looking +pale and rather ill. “Wasn’t that Mr. O’Leary driving away a moment +ago?” + +“Yes.” + +“I didn’t know that he was here at St. Ann’s. He hasn’t seen fit to +question me yet”—she smiled rather ruefully—“as to poor Higgins. +Except, of course, as he did at the inquest and that was so little. I +felt he was reserving his inquiry, didn’t you? But I thought Mr. +O’Leary had gone back to town long ago.” + +“No. He just left.” I paused to yawn. “I’m going to try to get some +sleep. Better do likewise.” But she shook her head, murmuring +something about work, and I went to my room. + +Luckily I managed to fall into an uneasy sleep. It was when I had +awakened that I found I possessed but one remaining clean uniform and +it was of a style that demanded the buttons I had sent to the laundry. +Recalling the fact that Maida had an extra set, I went to her room to +borrow. She was not there but I went boldly into the room. + +And I found the radium! + +It was in the pin-cushion, a pretty trifle of mauve taffeta ruffles +that I picked up idly to examine more closely. When I felt the shape +under the taffeta, when my fingers outlined it, I could not have +resisted tearing it apart. The cotton stuffing had been removed and +the small box that held the radium was there instead. + +I don’t know how long I stood as if frozen to the spot. I remember +noting that the neat sewing had been torn out as if hastily, and that +wide hurried stitches held the seam together. And I remember hearing +the voices of several girls passing in the hall outside and thinking +that Maida would be coming to her room. + +O’Leary had said: “The person who has the radium is the one that +killed Higgins.” + +I could not face Maida with this thing in my hand. + +And I could not leave the radium where it was. + +In another moment I found myself back in my room, the radium, +pin-cushion and all, locked away, the key securely hidden and my mind +made up. Painful though it was I should have to tell O’Leary +immediately of this thing. I do not hold friendship lightly and the +shock of finding the stolen radium in Maida’s possession almost +unnerved me. + +I had forgotten about the buttons and it was something of an +anti-climax to catch myself starting down to dinner in a black silk +kimono. I had to go to the bottom of my trunk for an old uniform that +I had cast aside as being too tight. It was still too tight and very +uncomfortable, being made with a Bishop collar which is high and stiff +and scratched the lobes of my ears. + +There was no need to telephone to O’Leary, for as I neared the general +office I caught a glimpse of his smooth brown head bent over some +papers on the long table. I entered. + +“I have found the radium,” I said quietly. + +He looked up, jumped to his feet. I did not need to repeat my words. + +“Where is it?” + +“In my room. Shall I bring it to you?” + +He hesitated, his eyes travelling around the office with its several +doors and windows. + +“This is too public. Someone would be sure to see it. Where did you +find it?” + +I swallowed. + +“In—Miss Day’s room.” + +His gaze narrowed thoughtfully. + +“You must tell me about it later. First I must have the radium.” + +Our voices had dropped to whispers and my heart was pounding. + +“Shall we put it in the safe?” I motioned toward the inner office +which holds a great steel safe, in a prepared compartment of which the +radium is usually kept. + +“No.” O’Leary shook his head decisively. “No. I must put it in the +hands of the chief of police at once. Look here, Miss Keate; in three +minutes I shall walk slowly across the main hall with this bundle of +newspapers under my arm. At the foot of the stairway I shall pass you +just descending. It is rather dark there by the stairs. Hand me the +box and keep right on going. Don’t stop. Later I shall see you and +hear how you found it.” + +I followed his bidding. As I came slowly down the last flight of +stairs he walked carelessly across the hall. There was no one about +and I was sure that the transfer was effected without anyone’s +knowledge. + +With a casual nod I went on around the turn and followed the basement +stairs down to the dining room. I ate what was set before me and kept +my eyes from Maida. + +It must have been about twenty minutes later that I ascended the +stairs again and paused in the main hall. There was a light in the +general office, excited voices, and Dr. Hajek and Dr. Balman were +bending over something that lay on the long table. + +I entered. + +Lance O’Leary was stretched on the table, his face lead-gray, his eyes +closed. Dr. Balman had out his stethoscope and was listening intently +and Dr. Hajek was forcing aromatic ammonia through O’Leary’s pale +lips. + +There was a rapidly swelling lump back of O’Leary’s right ear and the +small box that was so precious was not to be seen. + +At a glance I understood. + +“Is he—alive, Dr. Balman?” + +Dr. Balman nodded, detaching the stethoscope with long hands that +shook. + +“Dr. Hajek and I were starting down to dinner,” he explained. His +voice sounded hoarse and his anxious eyes were fixed upon O’Leary. “We +found him like this. All huddled on the floor there near the +stairway.” + + + +CHAPTER 14 + +A Matter of Evidence + +I must say that I was considerably relieved to see O’Leary’s eyelids +flutter, the colour return to his face, and to note that his breath +began to come more naturally. In a few moments he was sitting upright +on the edge of the table, supported by Dr. Balman’s arm. + +“What on earth happened to you?” inquired Dr. Balman, looking relieved +also. + +“I don’t know,” replied O’Leary rather dazedly. “All I remember is +something coming down on my head. When did you find me?” + +“About fifteen minutes ago. Dr. Hajek and I were just going +downstairs. It was not very light in the hallway and you were in the +shadow there by the stairs. It—gave us a nasty shock. Do you know why +you were attacked?” + +O’Leary flicked a warning glance at me and shook his head. + +“Haven’t the least idea,” he said flatly. + +Dr. Hajek, who had been standing silently by, stirred at this. + +“Then you were not on the point of making a—er—disclosure?” he asked +with an air of disappointment. His ruddy face was as unmoved and +stolid as ever, but it seemed to me that those dark, knowing eyes were +restrained and secretive and did not meet O’Leary’s gaze squarely. + +“No such luck! By the way, were you men coming up from downstairs when +you found me?” + +“No,” replied Dr. Balman. “No. I had been O.K.-ing some orders in the +inner office; Dr. Hajek came out of his room into the general office +just as I, too, entered it and we walked together out into the hall +and toward the basement stairs.” + +“You saw nothing unusual?” + +“Nothing. We were talking of advertising for a new janitor. It was—” +Dr. Balman’s kind, distressed eyes roved over O’Leary anxiously as if +to be quite sure he was not hurt—“it was, as I said, a shock. For a +moment we feared the worst.” He drew out a handkerchief and wiped his +pale lips nervously, his fingers lingering to pull at his thin beard. +“Mr. O’Leary, I know that you are working hard and I don’t mean to +criticize but really—I——” he hesitated as if put to it to find words. +“You see for yourself to what terrible straits this thing has brought +us. We don’t know what to expect next. Can nothing be done to stop +it?” + +It was just at this interesting point, of course, that Miss Dotty had +to interrupt and summon me away, and it was something after midnight +before I saw O’Leary again. + +I was on duty at the time, Maida assisting me as usual, and our force +augmented again, according to another whim of Miss Dotty’s, by two +training nurses, both obviously unnerved at their contact with the +south wing of such ill repute. Their blue-and-white striped skirts +rattled nervously as they trotted here and there about the wing. While +I did not feel unduly alarmed myself, still it seemed all too clear +that the guilty one was still about, an unknown menace and hence more +terrible, and I don’t mind admitting that my ears were alert to any +alien sounds. + +I was sitting at the chart desk when I heard O’Leary’s quick, light +steps coming along the corridor from the general office. I turned to +watch him approach, his gray suit and grave, keen face gradually +emerging into the green circle of light that surrounded me. + +“Have you found the radium?” I asked at once. + +He shook his head. + +“Nor who took it from you?” + +“Nor who took it—naturally.” He dropped into a chair beside me. “Now, +Miss Keate, tell me exactly how you came upon it.” + +Feeling that it was no time to mince matters I complied, much as I +disliked the implications the story involved. He listened +thoughtfully, drawing a red pencil from his pocket and actually using +it to scribble some notes in a small, shabby notebook he brought +forth. He did not comment when I had finished, save to ask if Miss Day +was on duty. And at the moment Maida herself entered the corridor from +some sick room, O’Leary rose and intercepted her at once and the two +disappeared into the drug room. + +I was left to wait, always a difficult task for one of my temperament +and particularly unpleasant that night. It seemed hours but was +actually not more than twenty minutes by my watch, before they +emerged. Maida’s chin was in the air, her cheeks quite scarlet, and +her eyes flashing blue fire, but O’Leary was imperturbable. He stopped +for a word with me and I suppose noted the anxiety which I was at no +pains to hide. He smiled into my gaze a bit ruefully. + +“She has a reason for everything,” he said quietly. “If I could only +be sure that she is telling the truth!” + +“She always tells the truth!” I cried indignantly. + +“I hope so——” he hesitated. “It is difficult to explain, but all +through her story I had the strangest impression that she +had—rehearsed the whole thing.” + +“What did she say of the radium?” + +“Says she found it in a pot of lobelia that was in the hall outside +Room 18. She noted that the flowers were withered and needed water, +took it to the kitchen to water, noted that it had been disturbed +and—found the radium hidden below the plant! She took the radium to +her own room until she could get in touch with me. She says she did +not know that I was in the hospital after the inquest until she saw me +leaving.” + +“That is true,” I said quickly. “And I remember the pot of lobelia, +too. Only——” I wrinkled my forehead thoughtfully. “Why, the last I saw +it, the thing was still in Room 18! Not in the corridor, at all!” + +“When did you see it last?” he asked quickly. + +“Last night—about dusk.” + +He looked at me soberly. + +“Then the man in Room 18 last night—if it was a man—must have hidden +the radium for fear he would be caught with the incriminating box. He +must have thrust it hurriedly into the flower pot and left plant and +all in the corridor in the hope of being able to get hold of the +radium more easily than if it were left again in Room 18. That is, if +we are to believe Miss Day’s statement. Positively that lobelia _was +not in Room 18_ when I examined the room almost immediately after +Higgins’s death. I did not miss a square inch!” + +I was still thinking of Maida. + +“Did you ask her about the hypodermic syringe?” + +He nodded. + +“She says that she found her own needle had disappeared, naturally +disliked calling anyone’s attention to the fact, in view of the +existing circumstances, and simply substituted your tool for the lost +one. She says she acted hastily and only from a dislike of being even +remotely connected with the tragedies. My own opinion is that someone +advised her to do so. Especially since there was a cut-and-dried air +about everything she said.” + +“How did the hypodermic syringe get out there in the shrubbery?” + +“Miss Day insists that she knows nothing of that. And I’m more than +half inclined to believe her, there.” + +“The cuff link?” I persisted anxiously. + +His clear eyes narrowed. + +“The cuff link is the reason that I doubt her whole story. She still +declared that she lost the cuff link and that Dr. Letheny must have +picked it up. If she would only tell me the truth about that!” He +pulled a yellow slip of paper from his notebook. I recognized it +immediately. It was the note Jim Gainsay had written and asked me to +take to Maida. + +“Read it,” said O’Leary. + +Thinking it more discreet to say nothing of my own connection with the +note, I did as he requested. It was headed: “Friday afternoon” and +read thus: + + Must see you at once. Important. C. knows about last night. Say + nothing and let me advise you. Will wait at the bridge. Very anxious + since news of this afternoon. Be warned. Cannot urge too + emphatically. Please meet me at bridge. + +It was signed with a vigorously scrawled “J.G.” + +I read the thing, read it again and raised my eyes to O’Leary’s. + +“It was found in Miss Day’s room,” he explained. “In a pocket of a +uniform, in fact; when I asked her to explain it she said at first +that it was a message of a personal nature and that she would not +explain it. I was forced to urge and she finally admitted exactly +three things. First, that the note was written by Jim Gainsay. Second, +that ‘C’ referred to Corole Letheny. And third——” He paused as if to +give the coming words more emphasis. + +“And third—simply this: That Jim Gainsay was strolling in the orchard +about one o’clock on the night Dr. Letheny was killed. He passed the +open window of the diet kitchen, saw her within, and stopped for a +word or two through the window. Corole Letheny was also in the +orchard, heard their conversation, and threatened to start a scandal, +knowing that it would not sound well for a nurse to be seen visiting +thus when she was on duty and at such an hour. For some reason Corole +Letheny has developed a violent dislike for Jim Gainsay. According to +Miss Day, then, he wrote to warn her against Corole.” O’Leary’s clear +gray eyes searched my face. “Somehow the reasons Miss Day gave do not +seem to warrant the extreme urgency expressed in this note. Do you +think so, Miss Keate?” + +“I hardly know,” I said thoughtfully. “Of course, it takes less than +that to start a scandal, particularly if the starter is determined and +malicious. And Corole is both. She is naturally rather—feline, you +know.” + +He took the note from my hand. + +“‘Since news of this afternoon’ can only refer to Dr. Letheny’s death. +No, Miss Keate. What would a little breath of evil comment such as +Miss Letheny could start have to do with Dr. Letheny’s death? No—there +is a deeper reason. I wish I could persuade Miss Day to be frank with +me. Well, now to see if Gainsay tells the same story. Probably he +will, but we will see.” He paused to regard me soberly. “Is there any +room here in the wing where Gainsay and I could be undisturbed for a +time? This is a case where the very leaves of the shrubbery seem to +have ears and I don’t want Miss Corole to overhear us—or anyone else.” + +“Why, yes,” I said slowly. “There is the drug room.” + +The red light above Six gleamed. No other nurse was about, so I +interrupted myself to answer and bring Sonny a fresh drink. + +“I’ve been wishing you would come in to see me,” said Sonny +cheerfully. “I’ve been alone ever since a man named Gainsay stopped to +see me just at supper time. He wanted to know where everyone was and I +told him it was just the time when you were all eating. Say, do you +know him? I like him. He is a friend of Dr. Letheny’s. Say, why +doesn’t Dr. Letheny come in to see me?” + +“Sonny, did you say that Mr. Gainsay was here in St. Ann’s? Here in +your room at dinner time?” + +“Why, sure, he was here! Just about six o’clock.” + +“Where did he go when he left your room?” + +“I think he went on up the corridor toward the general office. I can’t +be sure, though, for I was working a new cross-word puzzle and didn’t +listen for his steps. Say, Miss Keate, want to see my new puzzle?” + +I forestalled the thin hand groping on the bedside table. + +“Another time, Sonny. You must go to sleep now.” + +O’Leary’s fingers sought the red pencil stub as I told him. + +“So,” he pondered, “Jim Gainsay was here in St. Ann’s.” + +“Where he had no business to be,” I interpolated grimly. + +“And he was here at about the time I was knocked out and the radium +stolen. This increases my interest in Mr. Gainsay.” He thrust his stub +of a pencil into his pocket, ran a hand over his already smooth hair, +and glanced at his watch. “I think we’ll have to disturb Jim Gainsay’s +rest to-night—if he is asleep. You are sure the drug room will not be +in use, Miss Keate?” + +“If we need anything I’ll get it myself,” I promised hastily. There +was a sort of repressed smile on his face as he turned away, though +I’m sure I don’t know why. + +Jim Gainsay must not have been asleep, for within five minutes the two +men were coming along the corridor from the main entrance. One of the +student nurses saw me lead them into the drug room and her eyes would +likely have popped out had I not spoken sharply to her. On the theory +that every cloud has a silver lining I considered it fortunate that +Eleven chose that very time for a rather cataclysmic upheaval which +kept Maida thoroughly engrossed for an hour or so, and I don’t think +she ever knew of the interview that took place there in our wing. + +She came very near it once, when she hurried for some soothing drops, +but I forestalled her by offering to get the medicine myself. If she +thought my hasty offer curious, she said nothing and went back to her +patient. + +Opening the drug-room door I walked into an electric atmosphere. Jim +Gainsay, lounging tall and bronzed against the window sill, was +clearly furious; his eyes were narrow and wary, his lean jaw was set, +his lips tight and guarded. + +I caught the words . . . “entirely a personal matter” in no very +pleasant voice from Jim Gainsay. + +“I must insist upon an answer, however,” said O’Leary. His voice had +the keenness of a slender, shining steel blade. + +Then both men became aware of my presence, and though I was rather +deliberate in measuring the drops, they said nothing further until I +left, when the murmur of their voices began again. + +The interview prolonged itself and it was a good half hour before I +had a chance—that is, needed to go into the drug room again, and it +was only for an ice bag. + +“And yet you remain a welcome guest in Corole Letheny’s house?” said +O’Leary. + +“Not so darned welcome,” replied Jim Gainsay, and I caught the flicker +of a smile on O’Leary’s face as I closed the door. + +In a few moments, however, O’Leary opened the door, peered down the +corridor, saw me and beckoned. + +His eyes were shining with that peculiarly lucent look as he motioned +for me to precede him into the drug room. + +“I want you to hear this, Miss Keate,” said O’Leary, his voice very +quiet but with a tense, alert overtone that caught my ears. “Now, +Gainsay, will you repeat that about Higgins?” + +Jim Gainsay glanced at me rather sheepishly. + +“I was telling O’Leary how it happened that I overheard most of your +talk with Higgins the afternoon before his death. It struck me as +foolish to let such a mine of information get away, and later in the +evening I got hold of Higgins and wormed some more of the story out of +him. For the most part he just repeated what he had already told you, +Miss Keate. But he did tell me the scrap of conversation that he +promised to tell you—remember?” + +I nodded. + +“It seems that he heard it when he stopped there near the south +entrance on his way to see Dr. Letheny. I suppose it was this +conversation as much as anything that made him suspicious of what was +going on in Room 18. It seems that he knew at once who was on the +other side of the bush; it was Corole and Dr. Hajek. Corole +said—according to Higgins—‘To follow would be easy, now,’ and Hajek +said ‘Wait till he comes out.’ Then Corole said something about it not +being difficult and Hajek said ‘Leave it to me.’ Then Higgins thought +he must have made some noise among the leaves, for Corole whispered +‘Hush’ and he heard them slipping away. Higgins followed but soon lost +them in the dark and himself returned to the interesting vicinity of +Room 18.” He paused. + +“Go on,” said O’Leary grimly. + +“Higgins told you how he came back to the porch and stumbled over a +coat. I got him to tell me something about the coat. He said it must +have been ‘one of them slickers,’ for it felt cold and oily. And at +the same time he told me a peculiar thing.” Again he paused as if what +he was about to say was distasteful to him. I glanced at O’Leary; his +eyes still wore that strangely luminous expression. Even the glass +doors of the cupboards all around us and the shining white tiles +seemed to wait expectantly. + +“Go on,” said O’Leary sharply, his words breaking into the crystal +silence. + +Jim Gainsay cleared his throat, felt in his pocket for a cigarette, +remembered that he was in a hospital and replaced it. + +“He said the coat smelled of—ether!” + +There was a moment of silence. Then I turned to O’Leary. + +“Ether! It was the same slicker! The one that I wore Friday +afternoon!” + +O’Leary nodded thoughtfully. + +“It might be. At any rate we know that no slicker was found on the +porch or about the grounds, so it is likely that the murderer of Dr. +Letheny carried it away with him. We had a strict guard on St. Ann’s +the day following the murders. It is barely possible that we can yet +trace the coat that you wore, Miss Keate.” + +“Poor Higgins,” said Jim Gainsay gravely. “I had a hard time getting +him to tell me that much. He refused to the last to tell me whose face +he saw there in Room 18.” + +“But he failed to raise an alarm even though he had reason to think +that the radium was being removed,” murmured O’Leary. “Well, that’s +all now, thank you, Gainsay.” + +Jim Gainsay paused for a moment outside the door and I saw him look +carefully up and down the dim corridor. No white uniform was in sight, +however. Thinking to facilitate his departure I took the key to the +south door from its hiding place and let him out that way. When I +returned O’Leary was standing under the green light, studying his +small notebook. He slipped it into his pocket as I approached. + +“Nothing, Miss Keate, but what you heard,” he said rather wearily. +“His explanation of the note to Miss Day and his activities during the +night of the murders are identical with what Miss Day tells us. He +sticks to the story of his telegram to his business associates that he +told at the inquest. He says he took Dr. Letheny’s car and left the +grounds of St. Ann’s very soon after you met him in the dark. And that +he was at a ‘corner about half a mile from St. Ann’s’ when the storm +broke—which does not coincide with what we know. That is, if the +lights you saw were the lights of the car he was driving, and it seems +reasonable to believe that they were.” + +“How about his presence here in St. Ann’s to-night at the time the +radium was taken from you?” + +“That got a rise out of him,” said O’Leary with an unexpected flash of +whimsical satisfaction. “He was angry in a second. Every time Miss +Day’s name came up he turned savage. If the radium had not disappeared +I should be inclined to think that he came to St. Ann’s in the hope of +seeing Miss Day, but with the radium gone again——” he stopped +abruptly, his face becoming grave again and dubious. + +The green light cast crawling shadows; the black window pane stared +impenetrably at us; far down the corridor a light went on with a +subdued click, a glass clinked thinly against something metal, and I +heard the soft pad-pad of a nurse’s rubber heels. + +Presently O’Leary stirred. His eyes, still shining with that very +lucent look, met mine intently. + +“Corole Letheny is next. Do you want to go to see her with me? Very +well, then, suppose we say at eight in the morning. You might just +happen into the Letheny cottage and I’ll come. I may be a little +delayed.” + +The remaining hours of second watch dragged a little but passed +quietly, and promptly at eight o’clock I wrapped myself in my blue, +scarlet-lined cape, adjusted the wrinkled folds of the detestable +Bishop collar, and let myself out the south door. The path was still +wet, the trees and shrubbery were veiled in heavy mist, and the whole +world very sombre and desolate. + +At the bridge I came upon Jim Gainsay. He was sitting disconsolately +on a log a little aside from the path, staring at a toad hopping +across his feet and apparently lost in his own morose thoughts. I +don’t think he had slept for he looked haggard and cold and must have +been smoking steadily for hours, for there was a little white circle +of cigarette ends around him. + +“Young man,” I said with some acerbity, “don’t you know that +cigarettes are coffin nails and you are making yourself subject to +indigestion, nervous disorders, tuberculosis and asthma?” + +He rose grudgingly and surveyed me without enthusiasm. + +“To say nothing of measles and hay fever,” he said dourly. “Say, Miss +Keate, is there any chance of seeing—her?” + +I did not ask whom. + +“I don’t know. Have you not seen her lately?” + +He glanced at me suspiciously, then motioned to a seat on the log and +I found myself seated none too comfortably, with the moisture of a +tree dripping down and completing the demoralization of my collar, and +beside me a man whom I suspected of theft and—theft, to say the least. + +“That was why I was in the hospital last night about dinner time,” he +said companionably. “I haven’t seen her for days and days. She is too +damn’ devoted to duty.” + +“Miss Day is a nice girl,” I said uncertainly. + +“Nice!” He glared at me. “Nice! Is that all you can say for her? Lord! +She can have me! The minute I saw her, I thought, ‘There she is! +There’s my girl!’ Say!” he drew a long breath—“and after I talked to +her alone, there at that kitchen window last Thursday night, I knew +Jim Gainsay’s time had come! I drove straight into town and wired the +company that I should be delayed. And here I stay until she goes with +me.” He paused and added ruefully: “It may take quite a while to +convince her that she wants to go.” + +“So that was what your message meant?” + +He looked at me quickly. No matter what O’Leary said later I do not +believe that Gainsay’s explanation was anything but spontaneous. + +“Why didn’t you explain before?” I asked tartly, thinking of the +trouble he had caused us. + +“Explain!” cried Jim Gainsay in high derision. “The woman says +‘Explain’! Explain that I’ve gone straight off my head about a girl! +Please, kind gentlemen, excuse me for hanging around just when murders +are being perpetrated and no strangers wanted on the premises. But +really, you know, I’ve just fallen in love. Explain! Hell!” + +In some dignity I rose; even justifiable ill-nature can go too far. + +“Good-morning, Mr. Gainsay,” I said coldly. But as I turned the bend +in the path, I looked backward. “I’ll ask her to take a walk this +afternoon,” I promised, being a fool of an old maid. He brightened up +at that and the last I saw of him he was casting pebbles at the frog +with the liveliest interest on the part of each. + +The porch of the Letheny cottage was still unswept and desolate, and +though I rang and rang apparently no one heard me. Finally I opened +the heavy door and walked into the hall. No one seemed to be about. +The door to the study was closed, and thinking to find Corole there if +anywhere I approached it. But with my hand actually on the brass knob, +I paused, for the door itself swung gently a few inches toward me, I +heard a low murmur of voices and realized that someone was on the +other side of the door and in the very act of emerging from it. + +“You are sure it is safe there?” said someone clearly. + +It was Dr. Hajek’s voice. + +“Quite,” said Corole, whose accents were unmistakable. + +“Then to-day is as good as any.” + +“I—suppose so.” Corole seemed reluctant. + +“Are you backing down?” I had not believed that Fred Hajek’s voice +could be so ugly. + +“No,” said Corole. “No.” + +“Then why not to-day?” The door closed sharply on the last syllable as +if propelled by a vigorous motion on the part of the speaker. + +In some perplexity I waited. I could still hear the sounds of voices, +but the words were unintelligible. All at once, however, the man’s +voice rose as if in anger, and without pausing to consider my action I +simply grasped that brass knob and flung the door open. + +I interrupted a strange tableau. + +Corole was leaning backward against the table, her lips drawn back in +a snarl and her eyes gleaming green fire. Dr. Hajek was no less moved; +his face was dark red, his fists clinched, his dark eyes glittering +unpleasantly between slitted lids. He was speaking when I opened the +door and I caught his last words. They were thick with fury. + +“. . . and now you refuse. After all I have done—_for you!_” + +“Oh, I don’t refuse,” cried Corole. + +Then they both saw me. + +Dr. Hajek’s dark face flushed a still deeper, painful red. By an +effort, apparently of will, he relaxed his hands, reached for a cap +that lay on the table, muttered something under his breath, and +wheeled toward the door. Corole recovered her self-possession more +easily; she raised her eyebrows and shrugged as if in amusement. She +wore an amazing Chinese coat, stiffly embroidered in gold and green, +dancing pumps with rhinestone heels and shabby toes, and _no +stockings_! + +“Good-morning,” she said with shameless calm. + +I think O’Leary must have met Dr. Hajek in the hall, for I heard his +voice before he entered the study. At the door he stopped. + +“You, too,” said Corole, losing her amused smile. + +“May I come in, Miss Letheny?” O’Leary asked. He looked as fresh and +well groomed as if he had had a long night’s sleep. “I rang the bell +but no one answered.” + +Corole pulled her bizarre coat tighter about her. + +“Huldah decided she no longer liked it here,” she said. “She left last +night—rather abruptly. Yes, do come in, Mr. O’Leary.” + +There followed an hour I shall not soon forget. I had never seen Lance +O’Leary so mercilessly intent. I was both fascinated and awed to note +the way he cut through Corole’s pretences and poses, her feline +evasions and her suave smiles, and by sheer strength of will forced +her to give to his inquiries answers that were direct if they were not +entirely truthful. + +He began with the revolver, but she repeated the denial of all +knowledge regarding its presence in Room 18 she had given at the +inquest. Also, to further questions as to her visit to Room 18 on the +night it had sheltered that irascible patient, Mr. Gastin, she +repeated the lame explanation she had given at the time. She admitted +coolly enough that she understood the use of a hypodermic outfit, and +as coolly, though with an evil glance at me, that she had made a trip +through the orchard immediately after hearing of Dr. Letheny’s death; +she had wished to see Dr. Hajek, she said brazenly, to discuss with +him the news of the tragedy. + +It was then that O’Leary held before her eyes the small gold sequin. + +“Enough of this, Miss Letheny,” he said coldly. “It would be better +for you to give me your fullest confidence. Why were you at the window +of Room 18 last Thursday night? This ornament was found on the window +sill. How did it get there?” + +Corole stared blankly from the gold sequin to O’Leary, but back of +those queer topaz eyes I felt that she was thinking desperately. + +“Well,” she said finally, “I _was_ near Room 18. In fact, I went as +far as the window sill. You see, I was walking in the orchard. I was +near the porch of the south wing when I heard something—a sort of +noise, there at the window of the corner room.” She stopped and ran a +quick, catlike tongue over her lips. “Room 18, that is. I was rather +curious so I crept up nearer the window. A man was opening the screen +and crawling into Room 18. He left the screen up and I slipped quietly +up to the window. I am rather tall, you know, and as I leaned for a +moment on the sill I suppose the sequin got detached from my gown.” + +“It was very dark that night. Did you see all this?” + +She moistened her lips again; they were taking on a bluish tinge. + +“I—I see in the dark better than most people.” (Which I, for one, did +not doubt.) “And anyway I could hear, you know.” + +“What could you hear? Why should you think that the noise you heard +was made by a man crawling in the window of Room 18? That is just a +little far-fetched, Miss Letheny.” + +“It is true, anyhow,” she said sulkily. “I heard the screen catch as +he pulled it up and the sort of—scrambling sound he made, and I could +see the patch of light that was his shirt front.” + +“If all that is true, why did you not rouse St. Ann’s at once?” + +“Because I knew who the man was.” + +There was a brief, electric silence. + +“Who was the man?” said O’Leary very quietly. + +“My cousin, Louis Letheny.” She brought the name out with a suggestion +of triumph. I do not know whether it was a surprise to O’Leary or not; +however, he said nothing for a full moment. His clear gray eyes were +studying Corole’s face. + +“Naturally,” went on Corole with a degree of malicious satisfaction, +“naturally I could not arouse the hospital to advertise the fact that +the head of the institution had just crawled through a window. Who was +I to know Dr. Letheny’s purpose?” + +“You are lying,” said O’Leary. “I warned you not to lie. The man you +saw crawling through the window of Room 18 was not Dr. Letheny. You +and Dr. Hajek were together in the orchard that night and you actually +did lean at the window sill, intending to enter Room 18, but Dr. +Letheny was already in Room 18. You and Dr. Hajek discussed whether it +would be better to wait until Dr. Letheny came out of Room 18, or for +Dr. Hajek to follow him into that room.” + +In the twinkling of an eye Corole had become saffron yellow, the dabs +of orange rouge on her cheeks stood out, emphasizing her high +cheek-bones with grisly clearness; her eyes were flat and gleaming and +her lips had drawn back a little from her teeth and the garish Chinese +coat accentuated her ugly pallor. + +“Who told you that?” she whispered through those hideous lips. + +“Higgins told me,” replied O’Leary very distinctly. + +“Higgins!” cried Corole hoarsely, flinging up one brown, jewelled hand +toward her throat. “Higgins! But he is dead!” + +“Higgins told me,” repeated O’Leary. “Now then, tell me. What did you +and Dr. Hajek do?” + +“We—we met at the bridge. We walked together through the orchard.” +Corole’s desperate effort to regain her self-control was not nice to +witness. + +“Go on.” + +“Then—as I said—we heard a man in Room 18. And wanted to know what he +was doing there. That was natural, I think.” She paused. + +“Possibly,” said O’Leary. “Why did you not wait until this—this +man—came out from Eighteen?” + +“We did not wait for him. Someone came along. We never knew just who +it was, though I thought that it was Jim Gainsay. He was in the +orchard that night, too.” + +“Seems to have been a popular rendezvous,” commented O’Leary grimly. +“So this approaching person frightened you away?” + +“Not at all,” denied Corole with a flash of her normal ease. “We +just—left.” + +“Where did you go?” + +“Through the apple orchard.” + +“And having eluded this—er—unknown person, you returned to the +intriguing vicinity of Room 18?” + +“No,” said Corole flatly. “I came immediately home.” + +“And Dr. Hajek?” + +“Returned to his room at St. Ann’s.” + +“Are you sure?” + +“Yes.” + +“How do you know?” + +Corole hesitated. + +“He told me so, later,” she said lamely. + +“Why were you intending to intercept Dr. Letheny—or rather, the man +whom you thought to be Dr. Letheny?” + +Corole leaned forward. + +“Look here, I _know_ that Louis Letheny was in Room 18 that night!” + +“I know that, too,” agreed O’Leary quietly. + +She leaned back on the cushions, her eyes puzzled and her swinging +rhinestone heels catching red and green lights. + +“Why did you intend to intercept him?” repeated O’Leary. + +“Because—Dr. Hajek felt he should know the reason for Louis’s strange +actions.” + +“Dr. Hajek being an interne and Dr. Letheny the head doctor,” +commented O’Leary skeptically. + +Corole’s eyes shot a vicious, sidelong look at the detective but she +said nothing. + + + +CHAPTER 15 + +Corole Is Moved to Candour + +A silence fell in the room. O’Leary walked to the window, pulled the +heavy, mulberry-coloured drapes aside, and stood there for a moment. +The world outside was sodden and cold; the dense green shrubbery +strange and unfamiliar with its fallen leaves rotting and its heavy +branches dripping. The piano in the alcove opposite me was shrouded +with a great black velvet cover, but it seemed to me that ghostly +fingers took up the first haunting strains of the C Sharp Minor +Prelude. I stirred impatiently and O’Leary turned to face Corole, who +sat sullenly still in the davenport, her fingernails digging into an +orange pillow. + +“Come, Miss Letheny. Give up the radium and tell me the whole truth.” + +“I have not got the radium. If you don’t believe me you can search the +house.” + +“The house has already been searched. Your maid was ordered not to +tell you. It was done yesterday while you were—out.” + +“While I was out yesterday—— Tell me, Mr. O’Leary, is anyone else +honoured with a—guard? The man from the police department followed me +all day yesterday and I suppose is out there now, sitting on the porch +railing or somewhere.” + +“O’Brien, his name is,” said O’Leary amiably. “No, you are not the +only person thus watched.” + +“I thought not.” Her eyes glinted with malicious satisfaction. “I +thought not. What about Jim Gainsay? And Maida Day?” + +“Well, what about them?” + +“What about them!” To do Corole justice she did hesitate for the +barest fraction of a second before she went on: “Is it possible that +you do not know that Maida Day was the last person to talk to Louis?” + +There was a pause, during which Corole looked in vain for any change +of expression in O’Leary’s face. + +“Are you not surprised!” she cried impatiently. “Goody-goody Maida +with her fastidious, touch-me-not ways was in the orchard with Louis +after midnight last Thursday night.” + +“No,” said O’Leary. “No. I am not surprised.” + +“I heard the whole conversation,” continued Corole, as if bent on +getting some sort of more spirited reaction out of the detective. “I +was there in the shadows and heard the whole thing. Louis was wild +about Maida—I’m sure I don’t know why. Anyway, she did not hesitate to +tell him that she didn’t return his love.” Corole smiled a very cruel +little smile. “Poor Louis! They talked for some time. Louis was one of +these cold-natured men, as a rule. I was surprised to hear him. It was +better than a play.” + +“Could you see them?” inquired O’Leary drily. + +“It was black as tar. But I knew their voices. And anyway I can see in +the dark like a cat, so I could tell about where they were—could see +the outline of Maida’s uniform and Louis’s shirt front.” + +“They could see each other, of course?” asked O’Leary nonchalantly. + +“No, I shouldn’t think so. I thought I told you that I can see in the +dark better than most people. I’m sure they couldn’t see each other +for I remember that when they met and began to talk, Maida sort of +gasped and said ‘Who is it?’ and Louis answered her.” + +“How long did they talk?” + +“Not long. Perhaps ten or fifteen minutes.” + +“That was about what time?” + +Corole paused before replying, I suppose to be sure that she was +admitting nothing as to her own activities on that dark night. + +“It must have been just before one o’clock. I think it was just after +Louis had gone to Room 18 with Sarah to visit his patient there.” + +“Did Miss Day return at once to the hospital?” + +“Yes, I think so. She was in a rage. I think poor Louis managed to +kiss her and Maida is deplorably high-spirited. She struck him at the +last; I was sure of that. They parted on very unfriendly terms.” Her +eyes slanted maliciously at O’Leary, but he was engrossed in studying +the soft figures on the rug at his feet. + +“Why do you tell me all this, Miss Letheny?” he asked quietly. + +She raised her thin, plucked eyebrows at this, delicately. + +“Didn’t you ask me to tell you anything that could help you? I should +think that it would be of value to know that the last person known to +have been with Louis was quarrelling violently with him.” + +“As a matter of fact, you have done Miss Day a favour,” remarked Lance +O’Leary. “You have very kindly explained the presence of Miss Day’s +lapis cuff link in the pocket of Dr. Letheny’s dinner jacket.” + +Corole’s eyes flickered. + +“I thought you said you were not surprised to hear this—as if you +already knew it.” + +“I suspected some such affair. Miss Day made a point of saying that +the last time she _saw_ Dr. Letheny was when she left your house +Thursday night, and it was perfectly true. She did not _see_ him when +she talked to him later. But, of course, I knew that she must have had +some sort of meeting with him. Indeed,” he went on quietly, “I can +quite understand Miss Day’s reluctance to tell of the matter. Any +young woman would shrink from the headlines—can’t you see them: +‘Beautiful young nurse—Love quarrel with Doctor’—all that sort of +thing? Doubtless the cuff link got detached from the cuff and into Dr. +Letheny’s hand and he thrust it into his pocket thinking to return +it—not knowing what was to happen. Thank you for telling me this, Miss +Letheny.” He walked to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. +His face was very stern as he glanced back at Corole. “You are only +making things worse for yourself when you refuse to tell the whole +truth. Good-morning, Miss Letheny.” + +Once again on that damp path we said little. + +“It was Miss Day’s meeting with Dr. Letheny that Corole overheard, +then, and threatened to tell of; that is what Gainsay’s note to Miss +Day meant,” said O’Leary musingly as we approached the south door. +“Well, that meeting does throw a new light on things—doesn’t it? By +the way, Miss Keate, I expect to stay in St. Ann’s for a night or two. +I want no one but you to know of it.” + +“But where—in what room will you be?” + +“Room 18.” + +I could feel the colour draining from my face. + +“That—room is not safe!” + +“Nonsense.” + +“But, Mr. O’Leary—I have not told you what I heard this morning!” + +“What’s that!” + +“Corole—Corole and Dr. Hajek——” He waited in silence while I told him +of the singular dialogue that I had interrupted. + +“Thank you, Miss Keate,” he said quietly when I had finished. + +“But—aren’t you going to arrest them at once? Before they do—whatever +it is they are planning? We don’t want another murder in St. Ann’s!” + +He shook his head. + +“I don’t think it will come to that. And anyway, you know—give a man +rope enough——” He did not complete his sentence. + +I tightened my lips disapprovingly; it seemed to me that handcuffs +would be far more efficacious. + +“Can you keep a secret, Miss Keate?” said Lance O’Leary suddenly. + +I nodded. + +“Then, if all goes well, another twenty-four hours will see the end of +this affair.” And with that he was gone, leaving me to stand as if +frozen on the step and watch that slight gray figure till it vanished +around the corner of the hospital. + +Another twenty-four hours! + +I was still on the step, staring absently into the surrounding greens, +when a movement through a lane of trees caught my eyes. There, +strolling through the wet orchard, was Jim Gainsay. At his side was +Maida, her white cap distinct against that green curtain, her soft +black hair waving gently about her lovely face. The navy-blue cape she +wore was thrown back so that its scarlet lining gleamed against a fold +of her white dress and the scarlet seemed to match her cheeks and +lips. As I watched, the two suddenly faced each other. Jim caught at +Maida’s hands and held them against his face and slowly drew her +toward him. She yielded for a moment, then glanced toward St. Ann’s +windows and pulled away. He relinquished her hands and laughed and +after a second she laughed, too. Then they resumed their slow pace, +and the white cap and scarlet fold of cape and brown Stetson hat +disappeared among the dense green thickets. + +He had succeeded in seeing her, then, and I did not need to fulfil my +promise. + +The rest of the day passed quietly but none too pleasantly, for the +hospital was gloomy and dark and very hushed, the nurses uneasy and +nervous, and there was a sort of subdued terror that lurked in the +very walls of the great, old place. + +I could not sleep, as was my custom, during first watch, and it was +fortunate, as it happened, that I could not for I went down to the +south wing a little early and thus, I believe, prevented another +panic. I am sure that any other nurse seeing Corole as I saw her would +have gone completely to pieces. + +This is the way it happened. + +I found myself in the south wing a good half hour before midnight and +strolled casually along the corridor. The south door was locked as it +should be, the new key having duly arrived and hanging, very bright +and new, on the nail above the chart desk. I remember that I had just +decided to find a new and less well-known place for it, and having +selected a spot at the right of the door in question was endeavouring +to push in a nail with a glass paper weight, and not having much +success, when a sort of scratching outside the door caught my ears. I +paused to peer through the small squares of glass. + +The wind had risen again and the low branches of the trees outside +were tossing and moaning. The corridor was not sufficiently light to +enable me to see beyond the black panes of glass and they glittered +emptily, so that I felt as if eyes were looking in at me. Then, all at +once, a face pressed up against the glass. It was a face so haggard, +so wild, so fraught with terror that I did not recognize it at once to +be Corole’s. + +As I stared she made an imperative gesture and moved her pale lips in +words that I could not hear. The key was in my hand and I unlocked the +door. Corole slipped stealthily inside and I closed the door hastily +on the wind and rain, locking it before I turned to her. + +She was panting, her hair was flying in wet strings about her face and +her eyes had great, fiery, black pupils that caught and reflected the +light. She was wrapped in a dark silk cloak trimmed with monkey fur +that was wet and hung about her neck in long, dank wisps that added to +her wild aspect. One hand clutched the cloak across her breast and the +other carried a square, leather-covered jewel-case. + +I found my voice. + +“What are you doing here?” I whispered. + +She cast a furtive glance toward the south door. + +“Did you lock the door? Come, is there some place where we can talk? +Here——” With a swift motion she pushed open the door of Room 18, and +pulled me inside. + +“Don’t turn on the light,” she warned me in a tense whisper. And +indeed, I had no intention of so doing, for as she spoke I recalled +O’Leary’s presence in the room. I looked sharply toward the bed and +chair but could not tell if either were occupied. + +Corole took several deep, shaking breaths before she spoke. + +“I’ve been running,” she whispered presently. “I had to get rid of +O’Leary’s watchdogs.” Actually there was an undercurrent of mirth in +her whispered accents, though I was sure that she had recently had a +bad fright of some kind. + +“Did someone follow you?” I asked. + +She held her breath for a second; then she released it. + +“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know who it was. Sarah, I had to come here. +I—I am afraid to stay in the cottage alone all night. Huldah is gone, +you know. I—am afraid. Can’t I stay here?” + +“Certainly not. Don’t be foolish, Corole. St. Ann’s is not a hotel.” + +She gripped my arm and her hand was trembling. + +“I tell you I am afraid. Sarah, you must let me stay here. I’ll sleep +anywhere. I’ll sleep right here in this room.” + +“No. No. You can’t do that!” + +“I must stay in St. Ann’s. You can’t put me out bodily. I’ve got to +stay.” I felt her shiver violently. “I cannot go through that terrible +orchard again. I cannot sleep in Louis Letheny’s house to-night. There +are ghosts, Sarah, ghosts—oh, you don’t know!” + +“Ghosts! There are nothing of the kind.” I felt my scalp prickle as I +spoke. + +“Maybe not. Anyway, I must stay here.” + +“No,” I repeated but she must have felt me weakening for she renewed +her pleas, even promising to make herself eligible to a room in the +hospital by having tonsillitis, if I insisted. She said she felt it +coming on owing to her getting so wet and being bareheaded. Which was +not only silly, as I assured her, but was not even to be believed, +Corole being as sleek and healthy as a young jaguar, and about as +even-tempered. + +“But you can stay,” I relented, “if you will do as I say and keep +quiet about it.” + +“Heavens, yes!” agreed Corole fervently. “All I want to do is keep +quiet about it. Shall I just stay right here in Eighteen? I am not +afraid.” She moved toward the bed. + +I grasped her cloak and jerked her back. + +“No,” I said hastily. “No. You cannot stay in this room.” There may +have been a note of consternation in my voice and I am quite sure I +heard a sort of subdued snicker from the direction of the bed. + +Corole heard it, too. + +“What was that?” she whispered sharply, starting back against me. I +shuddered aside from contact with that dripping monkey fur. + +“Probably a cat,” I said at random. + +“A cat!” I could feel her pull her short skirt tighter around her. “I +hate cats. They remind me of—— I hate cats.” + +“Corole, stay right here for a moment or two. _Don’t move from the +door!_ I shall come back and open the door, and you go as fast as you +can through the corridor and as far as the general office door. Don’t +let anyone see you if you can help it and wait there for me.” + +She murmured something in assent and in less time than it takes to +tell, I had manufactured errands to get the nurses into the diet +kitchen and drug room, had watched Corole move with the lithe +swiftness of an animal through the long shadowy corridor and myself +had followed her. My own room was, of course, the only place where I +could let her sleep. I even loaned her a night garment; she looked at +its long sleeves and high neck dubiously but accepted it. + +I gave myself the satisfaction of locking the door and carrying the +key away; I did not know whether Corole heard the click of the key or +not but I did not intend that Corole Letheny should be allowed to +prowl at large through the dark corridors of St. Ann’s. + +It was a little after twelve when I found myself in the south wing +again. Maida was already there and Olma Flynn and the same little, +blue-striped student nurse. + +I don’t mind admitting that I slipped into the diet kitchen at my +first opportunity and brewed myself a cup of very strong, black +coffee. Corole’s advent had shaken my nerves a bit and I did not like +the way the wind was murmuring around the corners of the great old +building, stirring up forgotten drafts and rattling windows and +slapping rain against them. + +Second watch, however, passed quite as usual, save for the little air +of uncertainty and uneasiness that made itself manifest in our +fondness for each other’s company, our frequent glances into the +shadows, and one or two broken thermometers owing to the sudden +crashes of the wind. The light flickered once as if about to go out +but mercifully did not do so. I might add that the prevalence of +broken thermometers was one of the minor troubles of that week; a +thermometer is an easy thing to slip from one’s fingers, especially +when shaking it, and it is not surprising that Dr. Balman had had to +order new thermometers for every wing in St. Ann’s. + +The hours seemed very long, particularly when it occurred to me that +if Corole and Dr. Hajek expected to carry out their scheme that “day” +there were only a few hours left in which to do so. Of course, I had +Corole safely locked up and if her coming to St. Ann’s in +well-simulated terror to beg a refuge was actually, as I half +suspected, only a part of their plan, why then I had stopped any +further activity on her part. But I could not wholly believe that +Corole’s coming had been prearranged; her panic had been too genuine. + +We were not very busy, so I had plenty of time to think. More than +once I caught myself eyeing Maida as she went quietly about her +business. + +Once, when we were both at the desk, engaged in a desultory and +half-hearted conversation, footsteps padding softly along the corridor +back of us caught our attention and I turned simultaneously with +Maida. I noted that her eyes flared black as she whirled and her lips +were a quick, set line, and wondered if my own face showed such +immediate alarm. However, it was only Olma Flynn, advancing to tell me +through chattering teeth that she was sure there was _Something_ in +Room 18. I was startled for a flash, though at once I realized that it +was O’Leary, and Maida went white though she held her shoulders +straighter than ever. + +I managed to calm Olma, though she clung to her point with a firmness +that in my heart I labelled plain mule stubbornness. + +“If we are all murdered before morning, Miss Keate, it will be your +fault,” she said at last. + +“Nonsense! If it is a ghost, as you seem to believe, you need not be +alarmed. Ghosts can’t do anything but moan around the corners.” It was +unfortunate that just then the wind swept through the draughty old +corridor with a most realistic moan, upon which Olma turned green and +vanished into the diet kitchen. It was this, I think, that gave rise +to a swiftly travelling tale that Room 18 was haunted, a tale that the +south wing has never yet been able to live down. + +Thinking to warn O’Leary that he must be more circumspect in his +behaviour if he wished his presence in that ill-omened room to remain +a secret, I watched my chance to slip unobserved into Eighteen. Dawn +was creeping into the room by that time and the furniture loomed up +dark and black in the cold half-light. The room was quite empty of +human presence, though to my tired nerves it seemed that there might +be other presences. I shrugged aside the unwelcome thought. A glance +at the window showed me that the bolts had been slipped and the screen +opened. I had no doubt that O’Leary was making use of that low window +as others had done. I resisted a childish impulse to fasten the bolts +against his return and returned to the corridor. + + +With the tinny sound of the breakfast bell away down in the basement, +the straggling through the corridors of the day nurses, freshly +uniformed if a trifle gray about the eyes, the fragrant smell of +coffee floating through the halls, my vigilance relaxed a bit. The +night was past and so far as I knew nothing out of the way had +occurred. Knowing Corole to be a late sleeper I did not go immediately +to my room to release her. Instead I followed Maida and Olma and the +student nurse downstairs to the dining room. It was a sorry meal with +buckwheat cakes which I despise and which, besides, give me hives, and +Miss Dotty relating a very lurid dream and dissolving into tears under +Melvina’s interpretation. The tears dripped dismally down Miss Dotty’s +inefficient nose, Melvina enlarged upon the meaning of dreams, and I +found that I had sugared my coffee twice. I was glad when the meal was +over. + +In the intervals of Melvina’s sinister monologue I had come to the +conclusion that Corole Letheny under lock and key was not a situation +to be lightly relinquished. I sought O’Leary at once, surreptitiously +avoiding the day nurses. He was not in Room 18, so I straightened the +wrinkled counterpane on the bed and left. As I passed through the +corridor of the second charity ward I took a breakfast tray off the +dumbwaiter standing there unguarded; the disappearance of the tray +caused considerable excitement in the ward, I found later, which was +augmented by its reappearance later in the morning in the second-floor +linen closet where I had thoughtfully left it, with only the coffee +splashed a little, for Corole did not even see that breakfast tray. + +When I unlocked the door to my room it required only a glance to see +that my bird had flown, so to speak. I set the tray on the dresser and +advanced into the room. The bed was tossed and had been slept in, +though the night garment I had loaned her was still decorously folded +on a chair. The window was open, letting in gusts of rain on my +flowered voile curtains which were running in pink and green streaks +and later had to be replaced. I crossed to close it and in doing so +found the mode of her exit. St. Ann’s, as I have said, was an old +building with numerous turrets and towers and roof irregularities +which included various ledges and wide window casings. From the window +beyond mine dropped an old-fashioned, iron fire escape fastened to the +old red bricks with rusted bolts. And from my window to the next ran a +sort of ledge, narrow, to be sure, and slippery, but there was the ivy +to cling to and shrubbery below to break a fall. For a woman of +Corole’s build and propensities it was not a difficult climb and once +on the fire escape the rest was easy. I leaned out the window. Had I +still been unconvinced, there was proof of her passage, for caught on +an ivy strand there hung a dejected, wet, black wisp of monkey fur. + +So Corole was gone! I felt guilty for letting her slip through my +fingers but reflected that O’Leary had known of her presence in St. +Ann’s, and moreover, a woman cannot go far in a drenched coat and no +hat. + +This comfortable reflection lasted until I went to the wardrobe and +found that my best hat was gone. The hat was a very beautiful thing +with quantities of artificial violets on it and three yards of looped +purple ribbon, and had cost me twenty-five dollars owing to my having +it made to order to fit my bobless head. And Corole had brazenly worn +it out in the rain, which did not increase my affection for Corole. + +I set forth again to find O’Leary, feeling that he should know at once +of Corole’s flight, pausing only to leave the tray in the second-floor +linen closet. + +O’Leary turned up at last in the vast old stable, now converted into a +garage, that is out back of St. Ann’s. He was apparently engaged in +sniffing at something that I did not see and that he thrust hurriedly +into his pocket at the sound of my approach. + +In as few words as possible I told him of Corole’s departure. + +His face became very sober. + +“That’s bad,” he said. “That’s bad. I figured she was safe in your +hands. So she got away across that ledge.” The place was visible from +where we stood, and he surveyed it thoughtfully through the gray +streaks of rain. + +“Well, it can’t be helped now. You say she wore your hat?” + +“Yes.” + +“She would not be apt to return to the Letheny cottage,” he mused. +“Let me see; it is barely seven o’clock—the stores will not be open +for another hour. There is plenty of time.” + +“The stores?” + +“She will go straight to buy a hat,” he explained with remarkable lack +of tact. “Corole Letheny is not going far in a hat that——” He noted my +unsympathetic countenance. “A hat that—er—does not suit her. I mean +that she did not choose herself,” he amended hastily. + +Without saying a word I turned toward the gravelled path that leads +back to St. Ann’s. + +“Wait a minute, Miss Keate,” begged O’Leary contritely, seeing perhaps +that he had offended me in a matter that no woman can freely forgive. +“Please, wait. If you’ll forgive me I’ll tell you something of +interest.” + +Being exceedingly curious I went back. He drew me into the shadow of a +big gray ambulance. + +“I want you to keep an eye on Miss Day,” he said in a low voice and +with an odd glance into the shadows of the place. + +“Miss Day!” + +“Especially if you see this fellow, Gainsay, hanging around.” + +“Why, what do you mean? Is Jim Gainsay——” + +“Jim Gainsay is the man who was following Corole last night. O’Brien +was stationed up at the cottage last night and saw him. It seems that +Corole slipped out a side door. She came out so unexpectedly that she +was into the orchard before O’Brien was after her. He was going full +tilt when he found that someone else was ahead of him, both of them +after Corole, who was having the devil’s own luck, according to +O’Brien, in avoiding tree trunks and shrubbery. O’Brien says she can +see in the dark. At the bridge O’Brien caught up with the man and can +swear it was Gainsay, but just then a low-hanging branch knocked +O’Brien down and senseless for a moment and when he got to his feet +Corole and Gainsay were both gone. O’Brien wandered about the orchard +hunting them for half the night and I ran into him about five o’clock, +soaked to the skin and his face a welt of scratches and his +disposition permanently warped.” + +“So it was Jim Gainsay who gave Corole such a fright,” I murmured. “I +wonder what he wanted.” + +“It looks bad for Gainsay,” said O’Leary thoughtfully. “Whether he +killed Dr. Letheny in a mistaken effort to defend Miss Day, or whether +he killed Jackson for the sake of the radium, or whether, thinking +that the radium is still at large he is determined to secure it for +his own use, in any case it looks bad. I hope your little friend, Miss +Day, is not going to be too much hurt.” + +“You mean if she cares for Gainsay? Maida is not one to wear her heart +on her sleeve. If we could only find that radium,” I concluded +hopelessly. + +“Oh, I have the radium,” said O’Leary simply. + + + +CHAPTER 16 + +The Red Light Above the Door + +“_You have the radium!_” + +He nodded. My mouth open I waited for him to tell me more. In the +little silence I heard a sort of rustle and I looked about me in some +alarm. O’Leary heard the rustle, too, but his face wore the most +peculiar expression of mingled satisfaction and anxiety. He made the +barest perceptible gesture against comment, and just at the moment +Morgue dropped casually down from an opening above what was formerly a +hay loft. I jumped a little at his—I mean, _her_ unexpected advent and +O’Leary spoke unconcernedly. + +“Yes, I have the radium. Or rather it is in Room 18 which is, I +believe, the safest place in the world for it, inasmuch as there is +not a soul in St. Ann’s who would willingly enter that room—save +perhaps your intrepid self.” + +“How did you find it?” + +“Corole brought it to Room 18 last night.” O’Leary’s voice had lifted +to a normal pitch and I recall thinking that he should speak lower. +“Corole brought it in her jewel case. The jewel case is there, too; +she must have doubted your—er—hospitality.” + +“Do you mean to say that she had that box of radium in her jewel +case!” I cried. “And that she left the whole thing there, in +Eighteen?” + +“Possibly she agreed with me that it was the safest place in which to +leave it. No one would suspect its being back in Room 18. No one would +voluntarily enter that room. Oh, she took the precaution to cross to +that closet and place the jewel case away back on the shelf. She did +that while you were clearing the way for her passage through the halls +to your room. She came very near sitting down on the bed to wait,” +went on O’Leary drily. “And I was endeavouring to give an imitation of +a mattress when you opportunely returned.” + +“Oh,” I said brilliantly. “Oh.” + +“It was the same closet that hid Dr. Letheny’s body,” added O’Leary +meditatively. “I will leave the radium in Room 18 until to-night; it +will be under close guard all day, Miss Keate, but I think it safer to +wait till to-night, during second watch, when the guards are gone and +the wing is quiet, to remove it. I’m not going to run the risk of +Gainsay’s knocking me senseless again. Of course, we shall have to +locate Corole and keep her out when she returns, as she will, for the +radium. Then I’ll get the stuff away while the hospital is asleep.” + +“Do you think that is wise?” I asked hesitantly. “Do you think that +will be——” + +“Ready to go back to the hospital?” interrupted O’Leary, and as we +walked along the clean white gravel path he conversed so fluently and +determinedly about the effect of the continued moisture upon the crops +that I could not get a word in edgewise. At the grade door we paused +and O’Leary said a peculiar thing. + +“See you later in the day, Miss Keate. Twelve of the twenty-four hours +I gave myself are gone, you know. And by the way, you couldn’t have +done better if you had rehearsed.” And with that he was gone, leaving +me entirely in the dark as to his meaning and feeling rather +irritated. Morgue, who had followed us along the path, brushed against +my skirts. She had already lost her air of pride and was taking on a +certain harassed appearance besides being very thin. But her yellow +eyes raised to mine were still complacent and knowing and so like +Corole’s that I thrust her impatiently aside with my foot and closed +the door sharply. + +The rain continued, steadily increasing in fervour as the dreary day +passed. All morning I remained in my room, the door locked securely, a +chair in front of the window lest Corole should take a notion to +return the way she had gone, and myself trying to sleep and succeeding +for the most part in staring at the ceiling or at the rain-smeared +window. + +At noon I rose, dashed ice water on my tired eyes, dressed and started +downstairs. The dark day made the vast old place gloomier than ever +and lights had had to be turned on all over the building which, +however, failed to dispel the lurking shadows. Apparently the nurses +were doing their duty as well as might be expected, though I noted +that they gathered in groups and that there was a noticeable lack of +smothered talk and laughter. + +In the north wing of the second floor I caught a glimpse, as I rounded +the stairs, of Dr. Hajek, clad in fresh, white duck trousers and coat +and certainly not much resembling a thief and a murderer, making his +morning rounds, and at the door of the maternity ward I met Dr. +Balman, an attendant nurse at his elbow. + +It was strange to see the everyday routine going on almost as usual, +almost as if we were not held in the cold grip of horror. No, not +quite as usual, for there was somehow about the place, emanating from +the very, white and expectant walls, an air of suspense, of breathless +waiting. + +Dr. Balman had noted it, too. + +“Even the patients are upset and restless to-day,” he said wearily, as +I stopped to ask him about Sonny, whose cast did not satisfy me. He +rubbed his hand over his high, benevolent forehead, drew it gently +over the bruise that still looked red and angry, and sighed. + +“It is the weather,” I suggested, though it was nothing of the kind. + +“Yes. Yes, it must be the weather. A constant succession of cloudy, +rainy days such as we have been having is bad for the nerves. I hope +this rain sees the end of it.” His anxious eyes went past me toward +the window at the end of the corridor. + +“One wonders where it is all coming from,” I commented. “I think, too, +that the patients feel the—er—atmosphere of the hospital. The nurses +are uneasy and nervous, jump at every sound, and there is a distinct +feeling of suspense and—breathlessness in the air.” + +Dr. Balman nodded; his eyes looked tired and sad under his thin +eyebrows. + +“I understand what you mean. There is a psychic undercurrent of unrest +and alarm that is bound to communicate itself to the sick.” + +“You aren’t looking well, Dr. Balman,” I said. “You should have that +bruise attended to.” And I thought, though I did not say it, that he +would profit by some liver pills. + +“I haven’t had time——” he began; a nurse rattling up to us in her +crisp skirts interrupted him with a question and I went on downstairs. + +A letter was waiting for me on the rack in the hall. I did not +recognize the handwriting, which was square and distinct and very +painstaking; the signature, however, caught my attention and I ran +through the note hastily, read it again more carefully, and with an +involuntary glance about me I withdrew into a secluded corner of the +hall and read it once more. It was short and to the point. + + Dear Miss: + + I think it is my dooty to tell you somthing I heerd. It is about Mr. + Gansie I liked him but he is croked. He thinks Miss C whuz name I + will not menshun has the radeyum, she said you know more than you + will tell about those murders too and he said well what if I do what + I want is the radeyum. Then she said youd better get out of here + before you land in jail and he said speak for yourself. Then the + kitchen door blew shut. You can tell that little man with the gray + eyes if you want to. + + That Gansie is a bad man he has a revolver in his pocket. + + I have left Miss C for good. + + Yours respectfully, + Huldah Hansinge. + +Aside from reading “croked” to be “croaked” and thinking for a wild +second that she was announcing Gainsay’s death, I had no difficulty in +understanding Huldah’s amazing epistle. It sounded exactly like her, +and Huldah is honest, so I did not even have the dubious satisfaction +of doubting her word. It was my duty, too, to turn the thing over to +O’Leary, and I should have done so at once had I been able to find +him. But he was not to be found and I finally went down to lunch with +a heavier heart. + +The afternoon passed as slowly as the morning. O’Leary stayed out of +sight, I heard no news about Corole or the radium, and the note from +Huldah was simply burning a hole in my pocket. I tried telephoning to +O’Leary but could not even get an answer from his servant. It was +while I was in the general office that someone telephoned for Dr. +Hajek. Miss Jones was at the telephone and asked me to call him, +saying he was in the south wing. + +“It’s a woman,” she said, winking at me. “She wouldn’t give her name +or number.” + +I found Dr. Hajek in Room 17 changing a dressing. He dropped his +forceps and pulled off his rubber gloves so hastily that they split +across one palm. + +“Pick up those forceps and sterilize them,” he directed the attendant +nurse. “I’ll be back in a moment.” + +I suppose he noted the disapproval in my face, for as we left he +murmured something about having expected an important call and +Seventeen being all right until he returned. In the corridor, tipped +back against the door of Eighteen, lounged a policeman. Dr. Hajek +regarded him speculatively but said nothing concerning his presence, +which was, to my mind, an extraordinarily stupid arrangement. It +seemed far better, to me, to remove the radium under guard to a place +of safe-keeping, but O’Leary’s business was O’Leary’s. + +It seemed a singular thing that this man Hajek was at liberty to go +about the hospital, his opinions deferred to by the nurses, his duty +to administer to the sick, and at the same time he was most certainly +involved somehow in the ugly, sordid tragedy that had befallen us. I +followed his white coat through the intervening corridors and, +recalling a record I had meant to look into, also into the general +office. But as I bent over the filing cabinet, though every word of +his brief conversation was audible to me, I could make nothing of it. +It consisted of three “Yes’s,” one “No,” and finished with “All +right.” Upon which he hung up the receiver and departed briskly toward +the south wing and Seventeen. Miss Jones was no wiser than I, for his +eyes had been on her as he talked and she had not dared listen in. + +“There’s one thing I know, Miss Keate,” she said as I was about to +leave. “That voice at the other end sounded for all the world like +Miss Letheny’s.” + +And some twenty minutes later I was quite sure that I saw Dr. Hajek +going unostentatiously out the grade door toward the garage, though +when the bell rang for dinner he was sitting in the general office +smoking a forbidden cigar and reading the evening papers with the +utmost composure. + +I spent most of the intervening time wandering about the halls; I was +very restless and could not settle down to anything, and altogether +the afternoon was a total loss so far as anything interesting was +concerned, so I was not in the best of humours at dinner. + +Once I caught a fragment of conversation from a little group of nurses +down at the end of the table. + +“. . . and I said, ‘What on earth is that man doing out in the +elderberry bushes in all this rain?’ and she said, ‘He is watching +Room 18.’” + +“Why are they watching Room 18?” asked Miss Ferguson, wide-eyed. + +“Don’t ask me!” The first girl shrugged her shoulders. “But there have +been a couple of men, besides that policeman in the south wing, +hanging around all day; I don’t think they are police because they +don’t wear uniforms, but they didn’t have their eyes off the windows +of Room 18 all day long.” + +“What do you suppose is the reason?” whispered someone in a tense, +shrill whisper that carried. + +“I don’t know!” + +“Mercy, I’m glad I’m not on duty in the south wing,” said someone +else, and all the eyes at the table immediately focussed on me. + +“Well, whatever it is, I wish it would be settled,” announced Miss +Ferguson vigorously. “I’m getting so nervous I drop everything I +touch. And my neck is stiff from twisting it to look back over my +shoulder.” + +Melvina Smith cleared her throat and I left the table at once. I have +nothing against Melvina, but if she had been in the south wing during +the past week she would have got her fill of horrors. + +With the gathering darkness the feeling of impending catastrophe that +had hung over us all day intensified itself. By midnight I was as +jumpy as a race horse, my heart leaping to my throat at every sound +and my hands shaking so that I could scarcely turn off my alarm clock +and adjust my cap. + +The storm had grown steadily worse and by twelve o’clock was blowing a +gale with thunder and lightning making the night hideous. The old +building seemed to tremble at each onslaught, and every window casing +rattled and every curtain flapped and the whole place seemed to quiver +and shudder as if it were alive. + +On the way down to the south wing, I don’t mind saying that I suffered +from something very near to stage fright, at least there was a rock in +the pit of my stomach and the backs of my knees felt shaky and not to +be depended upon. I very nearly shrieked when I heard footsteps back +of me on the stairs, but it was only Maida, going down to duty, and +together we walked through those deserted, creaking halls. + +I had not been on duty more than twenty minutes when I found a note +pinned to the order blank and addressed “Miss Keate”! It was sealed, +and across the paper was a single sentence splashed hurriedly: + + When the red light shines above 18 answer it. + +I wheeled to stare down the length of corridor toward that closed, +inscrutable door at its far end. The corridor lost itself in the +shadows and the door was itself indistinguishable, but it seemed to me +that the faraway panes of glass in the south door caught green glints +of light from the shade above my head. + +“When the red light shines above 18 answer it.” + +What was going on in the dark room? What did it mean? + +It was fortunate that I had plenty of assistance, for I could not +possibly have gone about my duty with this amazing thing in my mind. +In fact, I paid very little attention to the demands of the wing and +alternated my gaze between my wrist watch and that shadowy end of the +south wing corridor. + +When the red light shines above 18! + +When would it shine—what would I see upon opening that heavy gumwood +door? + +When the red light shines . . . After what seemed eons of time I +strolled casually and with attempted calm in that direction. My heart +began to pound violently as I approached that mysterious door. I +paused at the south end of the corridor, pretending to scrutinize a +thermometer that hung on the wall and listening with all my ears +toward that dully gleaming panel of gumwood. Not a sound came from it, +and though I lingered for some time in the vicinity, still I heard +nothing. + +On the way back Olma Flynn stopped me. + +“Eleven says he will not take his medicine, Miss Keate. What shall I +do?” + +I must have answered her rather vaguely and, in fact, barely heard her +question. At any rate, she gave me a strange look, whirled to follow +my gaze down the corridor south and, seeing nothing, faced me again. + +Her eyes were very wide and her mouth hung open. + +“What—what did you say, Miss Keate?” + +“I’ll see about it in the morning,” I replied, quite at random. She +retreated, eyeing me with trepidation, and later I saw her whispering +with the student nurse in the drug room and both of them regarding me +distrustfully. + +Somehow the seconds dragged along. I took up my post at the chart +desk, turning the chair so that it faced the long length of empty, +dark corridor, and the dark space above Eighteen was visible to me. + +Maida stopped at the desk now and then, and once paused to survey me +curiously. + +“What on earth is the matter with you, Sarah?” she asked. + +“Nothing,” I replied, looking for the thousandth time at my watch. It +was then a quarter of two. + +She studied me oddly for a moment. + +“What a night! The wind and rain is getting awfully on my nerves.” She +unpinned her thermometer, took off the cap and held it closer to her +eyes. “I was taking a temperature a moment ago when that loud crack of +thunder came and it startled me so that I dropped the thermometer. I +don’t think”—she paused to squint interestedly along the small glass +tube—“I don’t think I broke it. For heaven’s sake, Sarah!” she broke +off in sudden irritation. “Stop staring down the corridor. You make me +edgy. What are you looking for? What do you——” + +I did not hear the rest of the sentence. I sprang to my feet, peering +through the semi-darkness to be sure my eyes had not mistaken me. + +They had not! + +Gleaming above the door of Eighteen was a single, small red light! + + + +CHAPTER 17 + +O’Leary Tells a Story + +The next thing I remember is finding myself at the door of Room 18, my +fingers on the door knob, my breath coming in gasps and my heart +literally in my throat. + +What would the opening of that door disclose? + +I took a long, shuddering breath, pushed open the door and took a few +steps forward. + +Intense blackness met my eyes, but through it I heard scraping sounds +and heavy breathing and the impact of flesh against flesh, and the +indescribable sounds of two bodies struggling together. Instinctively +I stepped inside the room, closed the door behind me, and felt along +the wall for the electric button. + +And at that instant a vivid flash of lightning lit up the room and I +caught a glimpse of two men interlocked and swaying and I heard +O’Leary’s hoarse whisper. + +“Don’t—turn on—the lights! Don’t——” the rest was lost. + +I stood there as if frozen to the spot, longing to take a hand in +things and not daring to do so. Then all at once someone said +breathlessly: + +“O’Leary!” + +“Yes.” + +“Hell.” + +The men seemed to fall apart. + +“All right, then! Here it is!” The words were whispered in a panting +voice that I did not recognize. + +Then I felt rather than saw that the slighter of the two figures +tiptoed to the window next to the bed, peered through the dashing of +rain outside for a moment, and then tiptoed as cautiously back. + +“Into that corner! There, back of the screen! Miss Keate?” + +“Yes.” + +“Over here, quick!” + +I stumbled a little as I passed the foot of the bed, found a hand +outstretched in the darkness to guide me, and in a flash was in the +darkest corner of the room, behind the burlap screen. + +“Be quiet!” warned O’Leary sternly. + +Beside me, breathing quickly, was that other man; as I shrank back a +little I came in contact with something cold, touched it tentatively +with my fingers and drew back, chilled. It was square and hard and +pressing into the coat of the man at my side. It must be held in +O’Leary’s hand. + +And I was standing within an inch of the thing. I must have made a +sudden movement for O’Leary whispered sharply again: “_Hush!_” + +As if petrified, the three of us stood behind that burlap screen. +There was not a sound in the room. As my eyes became adjusted to the +darkness I found that the window near the bed was faintly visible +through the crack in the screen and I glued my gaze to that crack. + +Once the man at my side stirred a little and then quieted abruptly, +and I had no doubt that that menacing revolver was thrust closer into +his ribs. + +Just as I felt that my lungs were bursting I became aware that there +was a shadow, deeper than the surrounding shadows, there at the +window. I blinked and peered closer. Yes, I was sure. Silently, with +amazing lack of sound it crept from the window sill into the room, +paused for a second and then, so silently that it did not seem to be +anything human, it glided across the room and out of my little angle +of vision. + +Then I was aware that O’Leary was gone and simultaneously I heard a +sound like the creaking of a bed spring and O’Leary’s voice, cold and +hard as that vicious revolver. + +“Stand where you are! Hands up! Turn on the light, Miss Keate. Hands +up! I’ve got you!” + +Turn on the light! + +Cross that room to the door? No, here was the light above the bed! +Where was the cord! Ah! My fingers grasped it, pulled convulsively and +light flooded the room. + +There was a muffled exclamation from the closet door. A man standing +there flung his hands over his head. O’Leary was standing on the high, +narrow bed, his revolver covering the room. The man behind the screen +was still motionless. + +“All right, O’Brien,” said O’Leary very quietly, without moving his +head. + +“All right,” echoed a voice at the window. There was O’Brien’s head at +the window and along the sill gleamed the barrel of another revolver, +and then another as a stalwart policeman loomed up beside O’Brien. + +My head cleared and my eyes stopped blinking in the sudden light. + +The man at the closet door was Dr. Fred Hajek. His face was +putty-coloured. His small eyes gleamed like a frightened animal’s. His +raincoat dripped moisture in a little puddle on the floor. + +“Got him covered, O’Brien?” said O’Leary cheerfully. + +“Right!” said O’Brien. + +O’Leary leaped lightly from the bed, strode over to the burlap screen, +and pulled it back. + +Jim Gainsay stood there, his cap pulled low over his eyes, his lean +jaw set. One hand was thrust into the pocket of his coat, and the +other grasped a small, square box. At the sight of the box I gasped +something and pointed. + +“The—the radium!” + +“It’s you, is it?” said O’Leary in a strange voice. + +Hajek made a sudden movement; O’Leary whirled. + +“Stop that!” his voice cracked like a whip. Hajek, with a furious +glance at the men in the window, subsided. + +O’Leary turned again, walked to the middle of the room and paused, +looking from one man to the other with a curious expression in his +eyes. + +“Well,” he said. “I’ve got you both.” + +Gainsay started to speak and stopped as the nose of one of the +revolvers shifted restlessly. + +“Put down your hands if you want to, Hajek,” said O’Leary easily. +“Or—wait a moment.” + +He crossed to him, ran his hands quickly over Hajek’s pockets, +unheeding the fury in those little eyes, extracted a small revolver +and tossed it on the bed and smiled. + +“There you are, Doctor,” he said politely. “You may lower your hands, +now.” + +There was a slight commotion at the window. + +“Here’s somebody, Mr. O’Leary,” said someone. “He was in the shrubbery +and you said not to let anybody get away.” + +O’Leary peered into the little group at the window, then his eyes +lightened. + +“Oh, it’s you, Dr. Balman. You came at just the right time. I think we +have bagged our birds. Can you come through the window, Doctor?” + +It was Dr. Balman, sure enough, water running off his shoulders and +shining in the light as he crawled through the window assisted by the +policeman. + +Once inside the room Dr. Balman looked slowly about him. + +“What is this? What have you found, O’Leary?” His puzzled gaze found +the box in Gainsay’s hand. He started. “Why—why is that the radium?” + +“It may interest you to know, Dr. Balman, that we have caught the +murderer and thief.” + +“What!” cried Dr. Balman. His eyes travelled slowly around the room +and his voice broke a little as he cried: “Not—not Fred Hajek?” + +O’Leary’s keenly exultant eyes softened a little. + +“Wait,” he said. “There is another in the room.” + +Taking a key from his pocket, he crossed lightly to the closed door of +the further closet, unlocked it and swung it open. I took a step +forward and cried out involuntarily. Instantly I recognized my own +purple hat, sodden and drenched, and then, cramped in that small +space, a woman’s huddled figure. It was Corole! + +As we stared she glared back at us for a moment. Then she rose slowly, +struggling with cramped muscles. Her eyes, narrow with hate, were +fixed on Lance O’Leary. + +“I’ve been there for hours,” she said in a strange voice that was +hoarse and strained with fury. She stamped her feet to start +circulation and flexed her arms slowly. Then she pulled my hat from +her head, tossed it contemptuously out of the way and ran her brown +hands through her tossed, yellow hair. “You are going to suffer for +this,” she said. “How dare you force me into that closet, lock the +door and leave me!” She took a tigerish step or two toward O’Leary, +her nails gleaming suggestively. + +“Not so fast, my lady,” interposed O’Brien, who had slipped silently +through the window. Corole shifted her malignant gaze, regarded +O’Brien for a moment, then slowly and malevolently swept the room. + +“So you are here, too?” she said to me. “And Dr. Balman. And Jim. +Quite a family party.” + +“You are right,” agreed O’Leary smoothly. “Quite a family party. In +fact, we need only one more to make our circle complete. Miss Keate, +will you please summon Miss Day?” + +My heart leaped again as I heard the name, and I heard Jim Gainsay +mutter something that was quickly silenced. I opened the door and slid +into the corridor; there was no need to call Maida, for there she was, +standing opposite the dark door above which still gleamed that ominous +red light. She was very white but said nothing as I beckoned her +inside the room. + +At our entrance O’Leary became active. He motioned to the available +chairs. + +“Sit down, Miss Day—Miss Keate. Dr. Balman, there is a place on the +bed. We may as well make ourselves comfortable for I have a story to +tell.” + +I suppose my eyes went in some anxiety to the precious box in Jim +Gainsay’s hand that was the cause of it all, for O’Leary smiled a bit +grimly. + +“Don’t be alarmed, Miss Keate. The radium is not in that box; I took +it immediately to—a safe place. The box over there was only a bait.” + +With a disgusted exclamation Jim Gainsay dropped the box and folded +his arms. His eyes sought Maida’s but she did not return his gaze. + +“Well, Dr. Hajek,” said O’Leary. “It is too bad it has turned out this +way. I thought better of you.” + +Dr. Hajek lifted his lip in something very like a snarl but said +nothing. Corole made a sudden movement which she checked under +O’Leary’s regard. + +“Are you sure it was Dr. Hajek? Tell me about it, O’Leary.” The ring +of authority was manifest in Dr. Balman’s weary tones. + +“In my own way,” promised O’Leary with an apologetic glance toward Dr. +Balman. “In the first place, the superstition which so unpleasantly +impressed you, Miss Keate, has been fulfilled again.” He paused +dramatically, and from somewhere in the room came a sharp sigh of +suspense. “The murderer of Jackson _was_ near by when you saw blood +flowing from that small wound. But he was in—that closet.” He pointed. +The silence breathed a question that none of us dared speak. + +“Yes,” said O’Leary, answering the unspoken inquiry. “Yes. It was Dr. +Letheny.” + +“Dr. Letheny!” cried Jim Gainsay. + +“Not—not Dr. Letheny,” faltered Dr. Balman. + +“It was Dr. Letheny,” repeated O’Leary quietly. + +“I knew it!” cried Corole. “I knew it!” + +No one looked at her. Our eyes were without exception fastened upon +O’Leary’s face. + +“How do you know?” I said at last. + +O’Leary glanced about the room in indecision, then he shrugged. + +“As well here as anywhere,” he said. “How did I know that it was +Letheny? Why did not Higgins rouse the place? Because he saw the +head doctor in this room. Why was there need to hunt for the +radium? Because that man who hid the stuff was dead; Dr. Letheny, +disturbed about the ugly business, afraid of being caught with it +in his possession, hid the thing in the loud speaker, thinking +no one saw him. And only Higgins knew where it was, and Higgins, +terrified at what he had seen, was afraid to tell for he knew that +someone—_someone_ had come upon Letheny and killed him and Higgins +hoped to escape the same fate. And since there were—others desiring +the radium, a hunt was made for it. A search that was finally +successful.” His clear gray eyes went from Corole to Hajek. + +“But just as Dr. Letheny was about to leave the room another man came +upon the scene, determined to take the radium for himself. Then—I +don’t know exactly what happened but the two men struggled and in the +struggle Dr. Letheny’s head struck with such force that it killed +him—_this_”—he crossed the room to the massive, square-cornered +lavatory. “I am sure of that,” went on O’Leary, “for I examined it +before a thing in the room had been touched. The other man, frightened +perhaps, knowing that he was in desperate danger of being charged with +murder, dragged Dr. Letheny’s body into that closet, locked the door +and got rid of the key, hoping to postpone the discovery of Dr. +Letheny’s death for as long as possible and thus cover his own tracks. +But first he found that the radium was not to be found and knew that +Letheny must have hidden it somewhere in the room. He did not dare +search for it then, he would have to return. He retreated by the way +he had come, through the window, there, and—and crawled through the +window of his own room in the hospital in time to answer Miss Keate +who, by that time, was pounding on the door.” + +His eyes went to Dr. Hajek, whose face was quite ghastly. + +O’Leary forestalled the words on Dr. Hajek’s lips. + +“Not now,” he said sternly. “You will have plenty of time to +talk—later.” + +“Then—then you feel sure it was Dr. Letheny who killed Jackson?” asked +Dr. Balman incredulously. + +“Positive,” said O’Leary. “As further proof, the revolver that belongs +to Miss Letheny bears Dr. Letheny’s finger prints. Why should he bring +a revolver to a hospital if his errand was entirely peaceful? He +wanted the radium, he needed the money—I honestly believe that the man +wanted the money for research.” There was a shade of pity in O’Leary’s +voice. “And as to the mechanics of the situation, Dr. Letheny must +have made up his mind quite suddenly to secure the radium for his own +use; he came to St. Ann’s—I wonder what his feelings were when he +examined the patient whom he was soon to rob, I do not think the +murder was intentional—then, presumably he left. Outside the hospital +he accidentally came upon Miss Day and detained her for some +time—er—seizing her sleeve as she attempted to return to the wing, and +in so doing detached her cuff-link. Is that right, Miss Day?” + +Without a word Maida nodded assent but her deep, blue eyes shot a +glance of gratitude toward the young detective. + +“Then, determining to carry out his hastily formed plan for stealing +the radium, he watched his chance and while Miss Day was busy in the +kitchen and Miss Keate was detained for some fifteen minutes in—Room +11?” + +“Room 11,” I said. + +“—he must have slipped along the corridor into the drug room and +helped himself to morphine tablets and hypodermic needle and hurried +back, unseen, to Room 18. Jackson very likely never knew what +happened, but Dr. Letheny was safe because, in the first place, +Jackson was not surprised at the presence of his doctor and would have +had no occasion to object to a hypodermic injection, and furthermore, +on waking from a drugged sleep, impressions immediately preceding that +sleep are vague and confused and could scarcely be given as evidence. +I do not believe that Dr. Letheny intended to make the dose fatal; I +believe he only intended that Jackson should know nothing of the +radium being removed, but in his natural excitement Dr. Letheny either +misjudged the dose he was giving or the resistive powers of his +patient, with the result that we know. Dr. Letheny tossed the needle +through the open window, where it was later found. In the main, I +believe I am right; there may be slight discrepancies. One can’t be +absolutely sure when both—er—participants are dead.” + +There was a moment of tense silence. Then Corole spoke. + +“So it was Louis,” she said in a tone of ugly satisfaction. “I knew +it. I knew it all along for I watched——” She checked herself. + +O’Leary turned sharply. + +“Just a moment,” he said coldly. “Your skirts are not entirely clear. +There is Higgins’s death yet to explain, and the theft of the radium.” + +“I knew nothing about Higgins’s death,” cried Corole. + +“Go on, Mr. O’Leary,” begged Dr. Balman. Under the light his face +looked drawn and aged. + +“From that night on the struggle has been for the discovery and +possession of the radium. It was thought, by those who knew of Dr. +Letheny’s participation in the affair, to be still in Room 18. Hajek +was determined to find it, even going so far as to steal the key to +the south door in order to effect an entrance at any time.” + +Again Dr. Hajek made an inarticulate murmur which O’Leary silenced. + +“Becoming impatient at his continued failure to locate the radium, +Miss Letheny herself, who was in—er—in cahoots with Hajek, took a hand +in the matter. Knowing what had happened in the room and being by +nature extremely superstitious, she was intensely frightened when upon +entering Room 18 in the middle of the night in order to make a search +for the radium herself, she saw a sheeted figure on the bed. She, too, +failed to find the radium.” + +“You are perfectly right about that,” said Corole brazenly. “But you +are wrong about——” + +“Then one night Hajek grew desperate; he wanted the radium and +Corole—that is, Miss Letheny—was reproaching him for his continued +failure to find the radium. He recalled the circumstance of the +electric-light connection having been damaged by lightning on the +night of June seventh, decided that that condition was a valuable help +and, repeated, would aid him in making a thorough and prolonged search +in Room 18. So he went to the basement, disconnected the electric +current, let himself out the grade door, ran around the corner of the +hospital, entered the south wing by the unlocked south door, for the +windows were bolted, and was into Room 18 in about a minute and a half +after he pulled the light switch. Either from reflection or because he +had exhausted all the other available hiding places, he went at once +to the loud speaker, which by an odd circumstance was the original +speaker that was in Room 18 the night of the seventh. But Higgins, in +the basement, saw him and followed him. Higgins came upon him in Room +18. As I say, Hajek had at last found the radium and at the knowledge +of someone witnessing his theft he shot wildly in the dark, the bullet +killing Higgins instantly. Likely Higgins had said something, +indicated in some way that he knew what Hajek was about and what he +had taken from that loud speaker. I don’t know how it happened that +Higgins got up courage enough to follow and threaten Hajek with +exposure, but he evidently did. Hajek, frightened at the consequence +of his deed, simply acted from primitive impulse; if he were caught on +his way from the hospital the possession of the radium would be a +distinctly incriminating fact, no matter how he tried to explain it +away. He had only a few seconds in which to act, and he followed Dr. +Letheny’s example, hiding the radium in the first place that came to +hand which was—a flower pot. He scooped out the dirt, thrust the box +into the aperture and the soil in his pocket and hurried from the +wing, around the hospital, in the basement door and to his room—where +we found him later. He had barely time to get to his room unobserved.” + +“I didn’t! You are lying! I didn’t!” cried Dr. Hajek, his face livid +and those glaring eyes going from one to the other of us. “I tell you +I didn’t!” + +At a motion from O’Leary, O’Brien stepped closer to Hajek, thrusting +the revolver he held close to Hajek’s ribs. + +“But—but the mud on the window casing,” I began, bewildered. “If he +used the grade door and came up by the basement——” + +O’Leary interrupted me. + +“Miss Day happened on the radium in the pot of lobelias; it was in the +corridor where Hajek had placed it in his hurry, knowing that Room 18 +would be thoroughly searched. Miss Keate in the meantime—I think we +need not go into that. Anyway it came thus to my hands for a moment or +two before Hajek knocked me senseless and took the radium. He had +managed, from his room off the general office, to hear Miss Keate’s +announcement and must have watched until she gave it to me——” + +“I’ll admit to that,” cried Dr. Hajek. “But not to that oth——” + +“There, there!” O’Brien poked him suggestively and Hajek stopped +talking. + +“But,” began Dr. Balman uncertainly, “I never dreamed it was Dr. +Hajek. Why he was right there with me when we found you, O’Leary, +there by the stairs. He seemed as astonished as I was.” Dr. Balman +reached unsteadily for his handkerchief and passed it over his +forehead. “This is terrible, O’Leary, terrible.” His voice shook. “Do +you realize that you are accusing a doctor of St. Ann’s of unspeakable +crimes? That you are——” + +“Truth is truth.” There was a queer, icy look in O’Leary’s gray eyes. +“If a doctor of St. Ann’s is guilty, he is as guilty as any other man +would be.” + +“Oh, yes. Yes, I suppose so,” agreed Dr. Balman, reluctantly. “But it +is no less—terrible.” He shuddered visibly. + +I found my tongue. + +“Then what part has Mr. Gainsay in all this?” + +O’Leary eyed me curiously before replying. Then he turned to Jim +Gainsay. + +“Gainsay,” he said slowly, “is a young man who is going to get into +serious trouble sometime through not minding his own business. He is +incurably inquisitive and has been quite sure that he and he alone +could solve this mystery.” There was a gleam of mirth back of those +clear, gray eyes. + +Jim straightened up, felt absently in his pocket and drew out a pipe, +which he held without lighting, the policeman at the window watching +him with an impassive countenance. + +Jim sighed. + +“I _am_ a fool,” he admitted abruptly. “But, Lord, it didn’t seem to +me that you were getting anywhere. I had to take a hand in it. I +thought the first thing to do was to find the radium.” + +Corole’s slitted eyes flashed green fire. + +“You nearly got it, too,” she said viciously. “But I got away from +you.” + +“Where did you hide it when Hajek turned it over to you immediately +after stealing it from me?” asked O’Leary mildly. + +Corole’s face was sullen but she replied, taking, I think, a certain +pleasure in being the centre of the stage for a moment. + +“I dug a hole under one of the trees out there,” she motioned with a +long, brown hand, on which the topaz shone, toward the orchard. “I +left it there all day yesterday—I mean, day before yesterday.” She +glanced at the window, which was beginning to show a dim, gray light. +“And then that night I got away from you,” she looked at O’Brien—“and +you”—at Jim, this time—“and got it out and brought it here in my jewel +case. I thought it would be safe in this room and Sarah was so +excited”—she cast a malicious glance toward me—“she never noticed that +I came out without my jewel case when she so thoughtfully took me to +her room and _locked me in!_ How did you find it?” + +O’Leary did not reply. + +“When Miss Letheny returned for the radium about eleven o’clock +to-night I—er—detained her.” O’Leary glanced toward the closet from +which she had emerged. “I am interested to hear that you admit to +having the radium in your possession.” + +“What can you do about it?” flashed Corole insolently. “And you are +all wrong about Dr. Hajek. I know that he did not shoot Higgins and I +know that he did not kill Louis for he was with me both times——” + +“That will do, Miss Letheny. Or rather, Mrs. Hajek.” + +Corole started. Her brown hands clutched at the wall back of her. + +“How did you know that?” + +O’Brien cleared his throat self-consciously and at the sound Corole +whirled to face him. + +“I suppose you were following us this afternoon,” she said +vindictively. + +“They were married this afternoon,” said O’Leary. “Owing to a +conversation overheard by one of us”—I daresay it was my turn to look +self-conscious—“we have reason to think that possibly the bride was a +bit reluctant, but however that was, they were actually married at the +courthouse with Mr. O’Brien—near at hand. Your own desire to perjure +yourself, Mrs. Hajek, will not be of any help in the matter, for your +husband cannot be cleared.” + +A strange silence fell; the torrents of rain seemed to be lessening +slightly and I heard a roll of thunder away off in the distance. + +I was engaged in going over and over to myself O’Leary’s explanations; +it did not seem to me that he had covered everything, and I was about +to inquire into certain matters when O’Leary spoke again. + +“Is everything clear to you, Dr. Balman?” he asked deferentially. + +Dr. Balman hesitated. + +“I don’t know,” he said with a puzzled and worried air. “I really +don’t know. This is”—he paused to pass his hand across his eyes, +rubbing the bruise on his cheekbone a little as if it itched—“this is +a terrible responsibility, Mr. O’Leary.” + +O’Leary nodded. + +“But you are head of St. Ann’s,” said O’Leary. “And while the case +belongs to the state to prosecute, still I should like to feel that +you, as head of the institution of St. Ann’s—are satisfied with our +findings.” + +“It doesn’t seem—it doesn’t seem possible,” said Dr. Balman. + +O’Leary looked obviously irritated, but said with restrained +impatience: + +“Is there anything that I have overlooked, Dr. Balman?” + +“No. No, I suppose not,” Dr. Balman replied uncertainly. + +“Perhaps I have not made myself perfectly clear,” said O’Leary, still +patiently. “Let’s begin at the beginning again, Dr. Balman, and piece +things out in their logical order. I want to be sure that it is all +clear to you.” + +“No, no! That will not be necessary.” + +“Yes,” insisted O’Leary. “You being head of St. Ann’s, Doctor, should +be given every scrap of information in my power to give.” + +“No, no!” said Dr. Balman. “It is very painful to me. And anyway, I +think I understand. Dr. Hajek got into Room 18, just after Dr. Letheny +had hidden the radium. Isn’t that it?” + +O’Leary nodded and there was a quickly subdued growl of dissent from +Dr. Hajek. + +“The two men struggled then, and Dr. Letheny was killed in the +struggle?” + +Again O’Leary nodded. + +“Yes, I think I understand. Still it doesn’t seem possible.” Dr. +Balman regarded Dr. Hajek doubtfully. + +“No,” said Lance O’Leary slowly. “It does seem strange that Miss Keate +should hear nothing of it.” + +“I believe she did hear something of it,” said Dr. Balman, his +distressed countenance turning to me. I made some gesture of assent. + +“Yes,” said O’Leary. “For don’t you remember that she came down to the +end of the corridor——” He left his sentence hanging in the air, and as +he spoke he moved his hand slightly and I was faintly surprised to see +little beads of sweat glistening on the back of it, though the night +was cool. His face was quiet and composed as usual. + +“Oh, yes,” said Dr. Balman. “I remember now. Strange she saw or heard +nothing of all this when she opened the door of Room 18 and stood +there for a moment.” + +Queer how silent the room was. No one seemed to breathe. + +Then Lance O’Leary’s voice broke the silence; it was tight and strange +and shook a little. + +“_Only the murderer could know that!_” He shot a glance at O’Brien. +“Quick!” The last word was like the sharp lash of a whip. + +I was never sure just what happened then. There was a scream as Corole +flung herself upon Dr. Hajek. There was another struggle going on +somewhere else. Figures blurred in rapid motion—there were outcries—I +found myself clutching at Maida—Jim Gainsay’s tall figure flashed +before our eyes. + +Then O’Leary’s tense voice commanded the situation. + +“Right, O’Brien!” he said sharply. + +Then the room seemed to clear; things resumed their normal dimensions. + +I stared and rubbed my eyes and stared again. + +Then my knees weakened under me and I think I screamed. + +The handcuffs glittered coldly on Dr. Balman’s wrists. + + + +CHAPTER 18 + +O’Leary Revises His Story + +It was fitting that the thing should end as it had begun, in Room 18. + +I have only a dazed and chaotic memory of them taking Dr. Balman away. +Of Corole and Fred Hajek going under guard. Of myself sitting numbly +in Room 18, with Maida beside me gripping my hand, until O’Leary +returned. Jim accompanied him. + +I think it was seeing Jim sit down on the white bed with his coat +still wet with rain, and noting the marks of muddy shoes and wet coats +on the once white counterpane, that aroused me to a sense of reality. + +It was dawn by that time. The electric light was paling and growing +sickly under the gray streaks of daybreak at the windows, and I recall +a vague little feeling of amazement when the thin rays of washed-out +sunlight began to find their way into the room. Sunlight after a week +of rain! + +O’Leary, entering the room, had closed the door and crossed to the +radiator and sunk wearily down upon it. He appeared worn and +enormously tired, with no shred of the jubilance I should have +expected. + +“Well,” my voice quavered a little as I spoke. “Well—you have +succeeded.” + +“Yes. I’ve got my man.” + +“You don’t seem to be rejoicing about it.” + +“I am not,” said Lance O’Leary flatly. “That is, don’t misunderstand +me—I am glad that I have done my duty. But I am sorry to see a man, a +brilliant scientist, a scholar, a useful surgeon—go wrong. Dr. Balman +has actually given his life—mistakenly of course, for his science. He +wanted the radium, he needed the money it would bring. For the rest he +was, as much as anything, a victim of circumstance. It is a sad +thing—yet just.” + +“Dr. Balman was a wicked man,” I said. Odd how we were speaking of him +in the past tense. + +“Yes,” agreed O’Leary. “But Dr. Letheny was equally culpable. Strange +how a man can devote his life to a woman or—a career. Well,” he broke +off, shrugging, “there’s no use philosophizing. Don’t mind my low +spirits. I should feel much lower if I had failed.” + +“I didn’t know what you were doing until Dr. Balman said: ‘When she +opened the door.’ Then I began to have a premonition, for I recalled +the request you made at the first inquest.” + +“What was that?” asked Jim. + +“I asked Miss Keate not to mention the fact that when she came down +the corridor after hearing the sound that she thought was a door +closing and was actually——” + +“Don’t!” I interrupted with a shudder. + +“—was actually something else, she came to the door of Eighteen and +opened it and stood there for a few seconds listening.” + +“Why? Did she hear something? Or see anything?” + +“No. But I reasoned that the guilty man must have still been in Room +18. It had not been a moment since the sound of the blow that—the blow +that killed Dr. Letheny, and I knew that the man who did it could not +have dragged Dr. Letheny’s body to the closet, locked the door, and +made his escape before Miss Keate got to the door of Eighteen. Hence I +knew that only the guilty man _knew what she had done_.” + +“Did you plan that far ahead? Did you know you could work him to admit +that knowledge?” cried Jim in honest amazement. + +O’Leary shook his head, smiling ruefully. + +“No. I am but human. But I plan to take every chance. Hoard every +possible bit of evidence. That was small but conclusive.” + +“Is that the only proof you have against Dr. Balman?” asked Jim. + +“No. I have others. But I wasn’t quite satisfied. You see, I let +Balman know that the radium was in this room and would be guarded +all day but not at night because I intended to remove it then. Miss +Keate helped me there. Dr. Balman was on the other side of the door +in the garage this morning—or rather yesterday morning,” explained +O’Leary to me. “Of course, I had actually removed the radium at +once and substituted a dummy box. I expected Balman would try to +secure it in the dark of night and hoped to catch him red-handed. But +instead—you, Gainsay, nearly spoiled the works for me. You have been +a good deal of trouble, one way and another,” he interpolated, with +a glance that held nothing humorous. “However, I know the reason +for your—er—meddling.” O’Leary smiled openly at Maida; it was that +extraordinary winning smile that he reserved for certain occasions and +Maida smiled, too. “I can’t say that I blame you for that. Though if +you had advised her to tell of the cuff link business in the first +place——” + +“That cuff link!” murmured Maida with contrition. “I am sorry. I +should have explained it immediately. But it—would have meant such +publicity. It was so disagreeable.” She flushed pinkly and Jim’s heart +was in his steady eyes fastened upon her. + +“But what else do you have against Dr. Balman?” I inquired hastily, +for once uninterested in matters of the tender sentiment. + +“The story that I told here to-night is, in the main part, true if you +simply change the name of Hajek to Balman. For the points against +Balman——” he checked off the items on his fingers. “First, finger +prints on that revolver of Corole’s. Dr. Letheny’s and those of Dr. +Balman were very clear. It was some time before I could get a good +print of Balman’s, though I had those of everyone else connected with +the case. Then there was the fact that he _asked_ to have this low +window bolted and the request came simultaneously with the +disappearance of the key to the south door; having provided himself +with a mode of entrance he was anxious to keep others out of the room +that held the radium. Then there was the matter of the ether that you +smelled, Miss Keate, the ether that Higgins said was somewhere about +the coat that was left there just outside the window of Eighteen, and +that you found on a handkerchief in the pocket of that yellow slicker. +I found on investigation that the only person seen to leave St. Ann’s +that Friday evening just at dinner time was Dr. Balman and that he +wore a yellow slicker. That was not conclusive, for he might have +borrowed it as Miss Keate did. But yesterday morning I found in the +side pocket of his car a small empty bottle and a sponge that still +had a lingering trace of that very clinging odour.” + +“But why ether?” said Jim. + +“He had evidently intended to anesthetize Mr. Jackson, steal the +radium while the patient was unconscious and get away. But when after +waiting about the grounds for some time until he thought the coast was +clear he finally got into Room 18, he found another man in the room, +the radium gone and his patient dead. The next thing for me to do was +to break what appeared to be an alibi. I did so when I found that +there was a freight elevator at the back of the apartment house in +which Balman lived. He knew how to operate it and must have taken +precautions to leave by way of the freight elevator and the basement +so that the night man in the front of the house never dreamed that +Balman had gone out again. He returned the same way and must have got +there just in time to answer the telephone. It was his car that left +along the lower road just as the storm broke, Miss Keate.” + +“He must have driven like mad,” I speculated. + +“Think what he left behind him,” said O’Leary grimly. “He knew, too, +that at any moment the alarm might come and his presence would be +needed at the hospital. He must be in his rooms when the call came.” + +“All put together those things are almost—positive proof,” said Jim. + +“Almost,” agreed O’Leary. “But I wanted to trap him into a final +admission. To catch him in the act of making off with the radium. And +there I failed. When you turned on the light here to-night, Miss +Keate, and I saw only Hajek and Gainsay, I was sure that I had failed. +But when Dr. Balman came on the scene I began to see my way clear. I +caused Hajek considerable anguish of soul but he deserved it. What on +earth did you come blundering around for, Gainsay?” + +Jim looked uncomfortable. + +“Why, you see, O’Leary, I saw Corole come into the south door of St. +Ann’s last night and watched through the pane of glass. I had nearly +caught her and I was convinced that she had the radium in her jewel +case. I could barely see in the hospital corridor through that door, +but I saw that she left the jewel case in Room 18. So I figured that +she likely thought Room 18 a safe place in which to leave the stuff. +Thinking it over during the day, I came to the conclusion that it +would be a fine thing to recover the radium myself.” He laughed rather +shamefacedly. “I—didn’t think much of you, O’Leary. And I was worried +about Miss Day, too. And well—I just made an ass of myself generally.” + +“You did,” said O’Leary. “You did. You had better stick to bridges +after this, Mr. Gainsay.” + +“You are right,” said Jim heartily. “But I can’t say that I regret +having been here. And I still hope that I have not failed—at one thing +I have undertaken.” His eyes were on Maida and she turned entirely +crimson and O’Leary laughed boyishly. + +I sighed; time enough for romance when this thing was all clear to me. + +“Mr. O’Leary,” I said, “can you prove all this?” + +He sobered instantly. + +“The only thing that is supposition—or rather based solely upon +reason, is Dr. Letheny’s part in the business, and even there, we know +that only certain events could have taken place. As for the rest of +it, change Hajek’s name to Balman’s and—there it is.” + +And I may as well say here and now that Dr. Balman confessed to the +whole thing, and the only point on which O’Leary was mistaken was +this: it was Dr. Hajek who took the key from its place above the chart +desk on that Sunday night when Maida and I were so frightened. He had +slipped out his window with the key, but when he heard us coming he +fled from Room 18, around St. Ann’s to his room, through the window +again, through the corridor from the main part of the hospital to the +south wing, tossed the key on the desk and hurried back to his own +room. + +“Then that arraignment of Hajek was entirely fictitious?” asked Jim. + +“Not entirely. He was actually out of the hospital and in the orchard +the night Higgins was shot and at the sound of the commotion he +hurried back to his room. But he had gone to meet Corole; they were, +of course, determined to get the radium and were conspiring together +at every opportunity. And on the night of the seventh he and Corole +were in the orchard. Their story of seeing a man crawl through the +window of Eighteen and waiting to catch him when he emerged is not +true, for only Higgins knew of Balman’s entrance and he did not know +who the man was. But Corole and Hajek knew enough of Dr. Letheny’s +entrance into St. Ann’s to make them sure that, when he was found +dead, the radium must still be in the room. For they had listened at +the window of Room 18—don’t forget the gold sequin. Oh, yes. Hajek and +Corole were determined to get that radium and it _was_ Hajek who +knocked me senseless there in the hall. That much of my story was +true. I saw that the only way to get Balman was to put him off his +guard. I was not sure that I could—pull it off; I was afraid my very +voice would betray me, that I’d be too eager, too insistent, clumsy, +blundering. The least thing would have warned Dr. Balman. I had to get +him to talking of it, and he, not yet having descended so low as to +want to send someone else to prison for his deed, was willing to +temporize, ask questions, attempt to think of something that would +clear Dr. Hajek, without at the same time incriminating himself. He +was trying to think fast of such possibilities.” O’Leary smoothed back +his hair and straightened his impeccable tie. “Those few moments were +a strain.” + +“Suppose he had just kept silent, had said nothing at all?” I +suggested curiously. + +“Oh, I knew he would talk. He had a guilty conscience, you know. It +wouldn’t have been human to refuse to talk. He knew his own guilt and +hence would try to appear innocent. He was bewildered, too, and was +never a practical, quick-thinking man. It was a chance but not a +risk.” + +There was a long silence. Away down the hall I heard the faint, +muffled sound of the breakfast bell. With that I roused myself and +thought for the first time of the wing. I rose, picked up my ruined +hat, and at the door stopped to look back on that room. + +Room 18! What it had held! What it had witnessed! + +O’Leary followed me from the room, Maida and Jim, too. Once in the +corridor I found that the small, red signal light was still gleaming +dully. I returned to Room 18, pulled the light cord, mechanically +straightened the bed, and closed the window. + +Maida and Jim had disappeared when I returned to the corridor. O’Leary +was standing at the south door, looking through the glass with an +amused twinkle in his clear gray eyes. Following his glance I saw +Maida’s white uniform and Jim’s tweed coat vanishing along the once +more sunny orchard path. + +“Young idiots,” I murmured. “And before breakfast, too.” + +The path recalled to me the Letheny cottage at its other end. + +“What about Corole and Hajek?” I asked. + +“They were after the radium,” said O’Leary hesitantly. “But after all, +I think the best thing to do is to get rid of Hajek and let them +leave.” + +“This means reorganization, new doctors, new methods—everything.” + +O’Leary nodded. + +“How true it is,” he said thoughtfully, “that even in one of the +noblest professions there are scoundrels.” + +“But the proportion is much smaller,” I said loyally. “You’ll find a +hundred defaulting bankers for one doctor who is untrue to his trust.” + +He smiled at the warmth of my defence. + +“You are recovering yourself, Miss Keate. That last remark was quite +in your normal manner.” + +And at that Olma Flynn tugged my sleeve. + +“Will you O. K. the charts, Miss Keate?” Her eyes were round with +curiosity and she cast a speculative glance toward Room 18. + +Well, that is about all. + +The staff doctors met that morning, and the board of directors, and +were most generous in their assistance. It was not long before we were +fully equipped with resident doctors and reorganized. + +Our new head doctor has a wife of Anglo-Saxon ancestry who has filled +the cottage with chintz-covered furniture and muslin curtains and +likes to head committees. She has a nosy disposition and we don’t get +along well. We have two new internes, too; fresh-cheeked boys whom +Miss Dotty pets something scandalous. + +Dr. Balman developed an infection in the bruise on his cheek and lived +only a short while. Corole and Hajek disappeared and have not been +heard of since, though lately a report came to me that a woman much +resembling Corole and dressed very beautifully had been seen at a +European pleasure resort where she made large sums of money gambling. +I judged that Corole was falling into soft spots as usual, unhampered +by a conscience. + +Maida and Jim left for Russia very soon after the events that I have +herein recorded took place. I hear from them every so often, long +letters full of news and snapshots. + +I see Lance O’Leary once in a while, too, and indeed, have given him +some slight help on a case or two. + +But for the most part I am still at St. Ann’s, going about my business +as usual, save that I miss a pair of steel-blue eyes. + +And I avoid the closed, mysterious door of Room 18. + + +The End + + + +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + +This transcription follows the text of the US Doubleday edition +published in 1929. However, the following alterations have been made +to correct what are believed to be unambiguous errors in the text: + + * “breathlessnes” has been corrected to “breathlessness” (Chapter 1); + * “unpholstered” has been corrected to “upholstered” (Chapter 6); + * “yould” has been corrected to “would” (Chapter 11); + * “ummoved” has been corrected to “unmoved” (Chapter 14); + * “into diet kitchen” has been corrected to “into the diet kitchen” + (Chapter 15); + * A sentence missing a closing parenthesis has been repaired. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75384 *** |