The Resurrection Man (8 page)

“Please take one, Mrs. Protheroe. Cook’s feelings will be hurt if you don’t.”

“Huh. And I’m not supposed to have any feelings, is that it?” But Anora picked up one of the steaming morsels, eyed it resentfully for a second, bit off a nibble, and washed it down with a mouthful of tea. Levitan, who’d been sipping gingerly from the all-but-transparent china, put down his empty cup with a faint sigh of relief and got back to business.

“How come your husband was the first one up, Mrs. Protheroe? Were you aware that he’d gone downstairs?”

“I was aware that he hadn’t gone up. George had been sleeping down here in his study for quite a while, the stairs had got to be too much for him. It was either this or install an elevator up to his bedroom, we didn’t want all that mess and bother.”

“You don’t have one of those chair-lift things?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve seen my husband, or what’s left of him, poor soul. George could never have fit on one of those things, and I’d never have let him try. He was too fat, like me. But he did still enjoy his food, God bless him. We’d had a nice little roast of pork for dinner, with applesauce and sweet potatoes and a strawberry parfait to follow. Last thing on earth we should have been eating in this hot weather, but that was what George said he wanted and I’m glad we gave it to him, though I don’t suppose I’ll ever be able to face a roast of pork again.”

Anora groped vainly in her dressing-gown pocket. “Blast! Hand me one of those tissues, Sarah. I must look like the devil, sitting here snuffling like a pig after truffles, but I can’t help it so you’ll just have to put up with me.”

“We don’t mind, for goodness’ sake. What did you do after dinner?”

“Sat for a while and watched some idiotic television program. Then George started nodding off, you know how he always did. I shook him a little by the shoulder and told him he’d better go to bed or he’d be spending the night in his chair and wind up with a crick in his back. Once he’d got to sleep, I’d never have been able to handle him alone. Phyllis is about as much use as a butterfly. Anyway, I helped him into the study and got him settled. By that time I was ready to call it a day myself.”

“Are you still sleeping upstairs?” Sarah asked her.

“Oh yes. You know me, I like my creature comforts. I read till about midnight, then dropped off to sleep and didn’t wake up till about seven o’clock, which is pretty good for me these days. I don’t know whether George got up more than that once during the night. He generally did, his kidneys were in awful shape. Weren’t they, Jim?”

“Pretty bad,” the doctor agreed. “How could they have been anything else, considering the way he ate and drank? I told him he was eating himself into the—well, I was wrong, wasn’t I? You know, Anora, what’s happened here is a dreadful thing for us, but a quick death isn’t the worst that could have happened to a man who’d been abusing his body for eighty-five years. Sorry, I suppose that was tactless.”

The doctor’s apology actually drew a hint of a smile from Anora. “Since when have you ever bothered yourself about tact? Just tell me one thing, Jim. Did it hurt him much?”

“I should say very little. I haven’t examined him myself, you know, but the spearhead appeared to have stabbed straight into the heart, which would have caused almost instant death. George’s reflexes were so sluggish that it was very likely all over before he’d begun to feel pain. I don’t know whether there’d be any point in doing an autopsy, that will be for the medical examiner to decide. Strange as it may seem, considering the length of time I’ve been in practice, I’ve never been involved in a case like this. I don’t see how it could have been misadventure, unless George had been trying to act out one of his yarns about spearing an elephant or something.”

“Don’t be such a mealymouth, Jim Harnett. Of course it’s not misadventure. My George was murdered, you know that as well as I do. Somebody deliberately broke into this house with a spear in his hand and skewered poor George like a joint on a spit.”

“But why would anybody do such a ghastly thing?”

“Don’t ask me, unless it was a crazy Eskimo who took George for a walrus. Anything’s possible these days, the whole world’s gone crazy. A fine way for my mother’s daughter to wind up a widow, thank God mother’s not around to see this day. Sarah, you tell Max I want him to find that brute and bring him to me. After I get through with him, this fellow here can come and gather up the pieces. What did you say your name was?”

“Lieutenant Levitan, ma’am. It’s not Mr. Bittersohn’s job to find the perp—er, the criminal. It’s up to the police, that’s what people like you are paying us for.”

“Bah. Then what are you standing around here for? Why aren’t you out perping?”

“Because I’m still hoping to get some help from you, Mrs. Protheroe. You say you woke up at seven o’clock this morning. Did something wake you?”

“Yes, a full bladder. Write that down so you won’t forget. Do you want the full details, or will you take my word for it that I went to the bathroom, did what I’d gone for, then came back to get my robe and slippers? I know, you’re about to ask why I didn’t put on the robe and slippers before I went. The answer is that I was in too much of a hurry. The reason I put them on when I did is that it looked like a pleasant morning. Instead of going back to bed, I decided to make myself some tea and toast and take it out to the back veranda. It’s cool then, and I like to watch the early birds catching their worms. My cook and maid can testify that this is something I often do in the summertime. We don’t normally have breakfast till nine, and I like a little something while I’m waiting. Their feelings are always hurt because I don’t wake Cook to make the tea and Phyllis to carry it out to me. Why should I? They need their rest, and I find it far less bother to wait on myself. Less bother to me, anyway. I always leave the kitchen in a mess and they have the fun of cleaning up.

“So that’s what you did this morning?”

“No, that’s what I meant to do. What I did was stumble over my husband’s body at the foot of the stairs. Don’t ask me what I did after that, because I can’t remember. I think I sat down beside him. I must have stayed like that quite some time; I was still there when Sarah came, whenever that was. I do remember thinking I ought to take the spear out. It looked so dreadfully uncomfortable, sticking up out of him. George hated being uncomfortable.”

“Did you touch the spear at all, Mrs. Protheroe?”

“No, I just couldn’t. I was afraid something vital might come with it. This was a new experience for me, you see. I’m afraid I’m not handling it very well. I’d always thought of myself as a fairly commonsensical person but one never knows, does one? Do you think I’ve got hardening of the arteries, George? I’m sorry, Jim. My grandmother used to say that if you accidentally spoke the name of an absent person, it meant that he was thinking about you. Poor George, maybe he’s thinking of me now, wherever he is. I’m going to miss him horribly, you know.”

Sarah hugged the bereft old woman a little harder. “Of course you are. But you couldn’t miss George unless you’d had him, Anora. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have someone to miss. There’s nothing the matter with her, is there, Dr. Harnett? Don’t you think what happened is that Anora went into shock? That’s a perfectly normal reaction. Wouldn’t you say so?”

“Certainly I would. No doubt you do have some hardening of the arteries, Anora, as anyone your age naturally would; but I can’t see any sign that it’s affecting your mind. Do you remember anything else about when you were sitting there with George?”

“Well, I do recall thinking that I must do something about George before Cook and Phyllis came down and went into fits. I’d managed to convince myself by then that he really was dead. He was so cold, and he hadn’t moved, and his eyes were so still. So terribly still. He seemed to be looking at me, but I could tell he wasn’t seeing me. I believe I had some thought of getting up, but I’m none too nimble at the best of times, and I felt so weak, and there was nothing handy to haul myself up by. Except the spear, and I couldn’t touch that. I felt—oh, frozen, like in one of those nightmares where something awful’s chasing you and you can’t move.”

Levitan intervened. “You’re quite sure you never touched the spear at all, Mrs. Protheroe?”

“Yes, quite sure, even if I was in a fog. It was such an alien thing, you know. I believe I was actually afraid of it. But George wouldn’t have been. He must have walked straight out when he heard whoever it was in the hall and—oh, God! How could a thing like this have happened right here in his own house?”

“That’s a good question, Mrs. Protheroe. Did your husband have any known enemies?”

“Enemies? George? Sarah, tell him.”

“I’ll try.” Sarah drew a deep breath and tried to put words together. “I was telling my husband on our way here that George was like a big old teddy bear. He just sat in his corner and you looked at him and felt comforted. George couldn’t have made enemies, he—well, he wasn’t exciting enough. He didn’t do much. Though he’d exert himself to help someone in time of need. For instance, when I was a widow without any money trying to run a boardinghouse, George persuaded an old college chum of his to be my tenant. He and Anora came and helped me get the room ready, that’s the only time he ever came to my house. Do you see what I mean? Did George ever work, Anora? I mean, have a steady job?”

“Oh yes, when he was young. His people were importers, they’d started in the China trade ages ago, like the Kellings. George was back and forth to the Orient a number of times after he’d got out of college, and for several years while we were first married. The last time he went to India, he caught some dreadful fever. The doctors couldn’t say what ailed him, but whatever it was, George was terribly sick for a long time and never really got well.”

“I didn’t know that, Anora.”

“Not many did. He didn’t like to talk about it and he didn’t want me to. George was not a lazy man by nature. This disease, whatever it was, just sapped all his strength. He’d fall asleep in the middle of a meal. You know how he was, Sarah, you’ve seen him do it. George couldn’t possibly have kept up the business by himself. We sold out after his father died and just lived on our income. Fortunately there was enough to get by on, it hasn’t been a bad life. I ought to be thankful I’ve had him so long. That’s your doing, Jim.”

“Oh, come now, Anora. George never took his medicine and he wouldn’t stick to a diet. I’d say the credit goes to you, and to the basic fact that George had the constitution of an ox. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you now, I was due at the hospital an hour ago. Are you quite sure you don’t want something to help you sleep?”

“Thank you, Jim, but I might as well get used to being alone. What I’ve got to do is rouse myself and start making the funeral arrangements, assuming this policeman here will let me.”

“We’ll help you in every way we can, Mrs. Protheroe,” said Levitan. “If you’ll have your undertaker get in touch with us, we can handle the details with them.”

“Have you taken him away?”

“Yes, the ambulance has gone, and so have the homicide crew, while we’ve been talking. They’ve finished the photography, fingerprints, the whole bit; we won’t bother you again unless something comes up. I’m afraid there wasn’t much we could do about that hall carpet. We had to cut out a piece for evidence, you may want to call in somebody to clean and repair it. Or take it up and get rid of it. Is there anyone you could get hold of right away?”

“I have some people who do odd jobs for me, they’ll cope.”

“Good. Now, about that spear, Mrs. Protheroe. I don’t want to keep nagging you, but are you quite sure you didn’t have one kicking around anywhere? This is a big house, and you do seem to have a lot of uh, knicknacks and stuff.”

“I’ve told you before, Lieutenant Levitan, that to the best of my recollection, there is not nor ever was a spear in this house. I’m quite aware there’s a lot of stuff around. Much of it came from the Orient, and I’m willing to concede that a member of the family might at some time have brought back a spear as a souvenir. If so, it would have been tucked away in the attic along with a great many other things that were here when I moved in as a bride and have never got around to throwing out. George and I used to talk about cleaning the attic, but we never did, it was just too daunting. I haven’t been up there in ages, I’m too old and fat to climb the stairs.”

“What about your maid, or the cook?”

“Phyllis wouldn’t go up there on a bet. She’s scared to death of mice and spiders, not to mention ghosts. Cook’s domain is the kitchen, and there she stays. I further doubt that any little brown man who’d entered the house for the purpose of murdering my husband would have been content to spend much time rummaging through that mess up there for a spear to stab George with when he could perfectly well have bashed him over the head with that big poker from the drawing-room fireplace. That’s what I’d have done if I’d ever felt an overwhelming urge to kill. Which I never have, so you might as well cross me off as a possible murderess. If I think of anything that might be helpful, I’ll let you know. Sarah, it was Wasserman’s you used for Walter and Caroline, wasn’t it? And you found them satisfactory?”

“Oh yes, they’ve been burying Kellings for generations. Would you like me to call them for you?”

“If you don’t mind. Lieutenant Levitan, thank you for coming. Phyllis will show you to the door.”

“Never mind, I can find my way out. You’re a great lady, Mrs. Protheroe, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Of course I don’t, why should I? Good perping.”

“I suppose he does think I’m the culprit,” she remarked before the policeman was fairly out of earshot. “He went on and on about that spear. I suppose that’s understandable enough, he can’t have run into them often. It’s usually guns or clubs or kitchen knives, isn’t it, Max?”

“Or whatever comes handy. Levitan can’t seriously think you speared your husband. A thrust like that would have taken plenty of force. You’re just not strong enough.”

“Certainly I am. All I’d have had to do would have been to push him down on the floor, plant the spear point over his heart, and lean on the shaft. My weight would have done the rest. George would have been too stunned to stop me, or else he’d have thought I was joking. He’d never in God’s world have believed I could do him any harm. And I couldn’t have, Max, believe me.”