ALM06 Who Killed the Husband? (23 page)

"Are there any servants on the place?"

"Sure, Matt Rennert and his wife, caretakers. Live in a cottage just inside the gates. There are also the farm employees."

"How do I get there?"

"Five miles out on the road to White Plains. Left-hand side. You can't miss it. Hell of a big brick wall all around. There's no other wall like it. Big iron gates with stone globes on top. Brick cottage just inside. What's your interest in the place, Mister?"

"I heard it was for sale."

"Gad! I wish they would sell. It would be nice for all of us to see the place occupied again. Have you a permit to view it?"

"No," said Lee.

"Then there's no manner of use you driving out there. Matt Rennert won't admit nobody without they have a permit."

"Well, I'll take a chance on it," said Lee.

He drove on out of the village. In the rolling countryside the Mount Pisgah estate was immediately recognizable by its wall. Seeing the entrance ahead, the chauffeur slowed down. The tall iron gates were chained together and padlocked. Lee could see the tracks of the station wagon where it had come out and gone in again. Smoke was issuing from the chimney of the brick cottage inside the gates, but there was nobody to be seen. The main house was not visible. They proceeded.

The wall extended for about a quarter of a mile further along the highway, then ran back at right angles. The enclosure was laid out like an English park with thick screens of trees inside the wall. Lee stopped his car.

"Somehow or other, I've got to get over that wall," he said. "I haven't exactly the right figure for it."

"I'll give you a boost, sir," said his chauffeur. "I'll go with you."

"No, you must stay with the car."

"How will you get out again, then?"

"Oh, if I can get in, I'll trust to luck to get out again. Perhaps there are other gates."

Leaving the car, they walked along by the brick wall, only to discover that it completely encircled the park. At the back, there was a pair of high wooden gates leading out to the farm fields. These looked a little easier to scale, but Lee would not try it, fearing there might be somebody on the other side. Instead, he had the chauffeur boost him to the top of the wall in a place where the woods inside looked thickest. Perched on top of the wall like Humpty-dumpty, Lee spoke down to the man:

"Go back to the car and keep driving around the roads in a circle that will bring you past the front gates every half hour or so."

He dropped to the ground inside the wall. It was not much of a drop, but it shook him up a good deal. A tangle of undergrowth and briars faced him; Lee was no woodsman, and after struggling through it for a few yards he had to stop to wipe his face and recover his breath. He discovered that his cheek was bleeding from a thorn scratch and that the front of his overcoat was liberally decorated with clinging weed seeds. This is no position for a philosopher, he thought, picking off the seeds halfheartedly. As soon as he started ahead he collected a fresh crop.

He finally came out on a bridle path winding away right and left through the trees. Turning to the right at random, he plodded on in the twilight of the arching trees until he discovered that he was coming up behind the cottage. Hastily retreating, he took another path that forked to the right, and presently the trees began to open up ahead. He could see a bit of the main driveway with a wide lawn beyond. As he cautiously stole toward the open, he heard the sound of a car coming and slipped behind a big tree. The station wagon passed in the driveway, heading back toward the cottage. Matt Rennert and Mrs. Craigin were on the front seat. The woman no longer had the green box in her lap.

After giving the car time to reach the cottage, Lee stole to the edge of the trees to get his bearings. Evidently the millionaire owners had been economizing on this place; only enough work was done on it to keep nature in check. There were some sheep pastured on the sweeping lawn. Off to the right the trees closed in and the cottage by the gates was invisible. On the left rose a great, square mansion in the Georgian style, its mellow brick walls half-hidden under ivy. The front door and the lower windows were boarded up; all the upper windows closely shuttered. It gave the house a blind and deserted look.

Lee plodded in that direction, keeping within cover of the trees as far as possible. Tracks in the drive indicated that the station wagon had come from around the north side of the house and Lee followed them. On this side, too, all the openings were boarded up. There was a service door; Lee tried it only to find it locked. He was not unduly discouraged, however, for he distinguished threads of smoke rising from two of the rear chimneys.

Passing around to the south side of the big house, he climbed over a rough barrier erected to keep the sheep out. The gardens were laid out on this side; a wide, formal garden, now much neglected, and beyond it a private garden enclosed within thick, tall, cedar trees. Making his way through an opening between the cedars, he saw a baby carriage tucked into a sheltered corner and smiled. Glancing under the hood of the carriage, he discovered Master Alastair Yohe sleeping peacefully. The babe stirred--it was his dinnertime--and Lee hastened to take cover behind a spiraea bush. Alastair presently lifted up his voice in a lusty cry of hunger, and Lee waited, smiling and picking the seeds off his overcoat.

Chapter 19

There was a rush of feet and Charlotte came running through the hedge opening with an adorable expression of anxiety. She looked as fresh and vivid as a bride. Lifting the child, she pressed him to her breast, kissing him, murmuring: "Did he think he was forgotten, poor lamb!" Lester, taking it as a matter of course, stopped crying. Lee thought: He's too young to appreciate his good fortune. Charlotte carried him out through the opening and Lee followed, taking cover from bush to bush.

From around the corner of the tall hedge, he saw her mount the steps of a side porch and disappear behind a door. Lee followed. Since all the surrounding windows were boarded up, he had no fear of being seen from indoors. Softly trying the door, he found it unlocked. He went in, closing the door behind him noiselessly. He was in a dark passage; light was issuing through an open door ahead of him and he heard the sound of voices in there. He presented himself in the doorway.

He saw a smallish room and bare, a housekeeper's room or perhaps a servants' hall. There was a hearth with a cheerful fire burning and a table set for a meal, lighted with candles. Charlotte sat with her back to him, removing the baby's outer wraps; beyond the table, Al in his shirt was sunk in an easy chair with his slippered heels cocked on another, reading the Sunday paper. Charming scene of domesticity!

Lee said: "Well, children?"

There was a silence. Charlotte, clutching the baby to her breast, turned a face of terror; Al, dropping the paper, stared openmouthed. The baby wailed, and Lee began to feel self-conscious.

"It's no ghost," he said; "it's really me."

Al recovered himself. Springing up, he came around the table and clapped both hands on Lee's shoulders, "Mr. Mappin! What a swell surprise! You're just in time for lunch. It's a celebration! We've got champagne and fresh caviar!"

"Really!" said Lee.

Charlotte was looking past Lee toward the open door. "Are you...are you alone?" she stammered.

"Quite alone," said Lee. "Nobody has discovered your hide-out but me, and I'm not going to tell."

"The police?..."

"I warned Inspector Loasby that if I found you I would keep it to myself. If he didn't believe I meant it, that's his lookout."

"How did you get in?" demanded Al.

"Over the wall and through the briars," said Lee, exhibiting his seedy overcoat.

"What made you think you would find us inside?"

Lee described how he had followed the trail of the green box.

Al struck a fist into his hand. "I ought to have known that my gluttony would betray me!"

The worst of Charlotte's fears had subsided, but there was still a doubt in her eye. "Why did you want to find us," she asked, "if...if..."

Lee finished the question for her. "If I didn't mean to give you away? Well, I'll tell you. I wanted to consult Al about the best means of conducting his defense. I'm on his side now."

Al let out a whoop of joy and hugged Lee to his broad chest. "Didn't I tell you we were going to get a break?" he shouted at Charlotte. "I felt it coming this morning." He relieved his spirits by kicking the Sunday newspaper around the room.

Charlotte came to Lee, bringing the baby. Tears stood in her eyes. "I am so happy," she whispered. "I don't know how to thank you. Lester wants to thank you, too. Kiss him."

The solemn baby looked at Lee with dark suspicion and Lee said: "I'd rather kiss his mother."

Charlotte lifted her fresh and bloomy lips. "You're such a dear!" she whispered.

Charlotte put Lester in his high chair and fed him while Al toasted bread before the fire. He wasn't very good at it; he talked too much. Al was in the highest spirits and talk spouted from him like water from a 'fountain. Lee was oddly moved by the scene; this is something I shall not soon forget, he thought; the bare, candlelighted room and the little family; young husband, handsome and confident, girl wife, adorable and adoring, and their lusty babe.

Al was full of great plans for the future. He said: "As soon as the cloud is lifted from my fair name, I'm going to invest my little capital in a small hotel. Not in New York, no, by God! I'm through with New York and its phony society. I thought of Washington, D. C.; a hotelkeeper's paradise, where the transient population grows like a mushroom bed. I've learned something about feeding people; I will introduce really good food in Washington..." et cetera, et cetera.

Presently they sat down to the table. The cork blew out of the champagne bottle with a report like a pistol shot, and glasses were filled. Al made outrageous jokes and Charlotte's silvery laughter was heard continually. Lee thought it one of the sweetest sounds in the world. Even young Lester became infected with the general hilarity; he made rude male noises, bounced on his fundament, and beat a spoon on his tray. Al elected himself and Charlotte members of the Popsicle; i.e., those privileged to address Lee as Pop. Lee could enter into their gaiety, but he was too old to lose himself completely in the moment like the other two. All the time in the bottom of his mind lay the anxious thought: How can I save them?

When they had finished eating, they all took a hand in clearing the table. Lester was carried out in the kitchen to keep company with his mother; Al and Lee sat down by the fire to discuss their business. Lee said:

"I see you get the newspapers. You read Jocker Stacey's so-called confession yesterday."

Al nodded. "Made out of whole cloth, Pop. I never laid eyes on Jocker Stacey nor passed a word with him in my life."

"So I supposed," said Lee, "or I shouldn't be here."

"His story was damn plausible!" said Al, scowling.

"Sure, it was plausible, because the scenes he described really took place. All he did was to substitute your name for the name of the person who actually hired him."

"How can we break his story down?"

"That's what I came to ask you about. He claimed that you spent last Monday evening with him, that is, a week after the murder, in Slater's poolroom on Grand Street."

"Suppose they bring forward habitues of Slater's who will swear they saw me there talking to Jocker?" Al asked with a sidelong look.

"They undoubtedly will," said Lee undisturbed. "It won't make any difference to me. I know Slater's and the gang that hangs out there. Where were you that Monday night?"

"At home with Charlotte and the kid. I never stirred out of the flat."

"That's good so far as it goes," said Lee. "Unfortunately, the testimony of a wife does not have much weight with a jury. A good wife is expected to lie for her husband. Jocker said he met you again on the following day at twelve noon in the Biltmore. Where were you at that hour? I know you weren't home, for at twelve on Tuesday I was watching the flat on Park Avenue."

Al considered. Suddenly he began to grin, checked it by biting his lip, and glanced queerly at Lee. "I've got a perfect alibi for Tuesday at noon, Pop, but..."

"But what?"

"I don't know how you're going to take it."

"What has it got to do with me?"

"Pop," said Al appealingly, "blame me for it if anybody has to be blamed. I could never forgive myself if the other party got into trouble with you on my account."

"What other party?" said Lee irritably. "What are you talking about?"

"Fanny Parran," said Al.

"Well, I'm damned!" said Lee. Al was gazing in his face with a ridiculous expression of anxiety. Lee started to laugh and the young man's face cleared like the sun breaking through clouds. "That's a good one on me," said Lee. "A week ago it would have made me sore, but now I don't mind. I shall have to eat crow, though, when I face Fanny, and that won't be so nice. What was the occasion of your meeting Fanny?"

"Jules Gartrey's death caught Charlotte and me short of cash," said Al. "Charlotte had been to see Fanny before Tuesday. Fanny said she knew a broker, and I conveyed five one-thousand-dollar bonds to her to be sold. The meeting was to enable her to hand over the cash for them."