The Spiral Staircase (21 page)

“If you’re nervous, why don’t you stay with Nurse Barker?”

Helen shrank back as she recalled a recent incident.

“But I’m frightened of her, too,” she confessed. “She’s bullying Lady Warren. I heard her just now.”

Miss Warren opened her lips in indecision. It was not her habit to offer explanation, or confidence, to any em ployee. Some impulse, however, led her to break her rule.

“I do not usually discuss family matters with anyone outside the family,” she said stiffly: “But I suppose you heard what happened to the last nurse?”

“Yes. Lady Warren threw something at her.”

“Exactly. It has happened before. Lady Warren is of an age and temperament when she cannot restrain her actions. Purely physical, you understand.”

Helen nodded, to show her comprehension of an evil temper allied to a lady with a title.

“Unfortunately,” went on Miss Warren, “the matron of the Nursing Home has told me that her staff is unwilling to come to the Summit. So I’ve had to request her to sentd a nurse who is used to restraining her patients. Someone kind, but firm.”

“I don’t call her kind,” declared Helen. “Won’t you go also in, and see how Lady Warren is for yourself?” “Very well. We will leave on the light here,”

As they crossed the landing to the blue room, Miss Warren frowned at an object lying on the carpet.

“What is that?” she asked, peering short-sightedly.

“A chisel,” replied Helen, brightening at the sight of it.

“I wondered where it was. I was going to try to screw up your door-handle, but I forgot.”

As she stooped to pick it up, Miss Warren took it from her, and placed it on a chair inside her own room.

“It looked very untidy,” she said. “Have you ever heard of the lines:

‘Sow an act, reap a habit. Sow a habit, reap character. Sow character, reap Destiny’?”

Helen did not reply, as she realized that the question was only a reproof in disguise. She followed Miss Warren into the blue room. As no snores sounded. from the dim white fleecy mound on the bed, Helen concluded that Lady Warren was really asleep.

“I hope she’s not doped,” she thought uneasily.

The air smelt a trifle more sour, with its odors of rotten apples and rugs. It caused Miss Warren to shudder with distaste. “A repulsive atmosphere for anyone who is not trained,” she said. “I’ve had to endure it all day. It has affected my head. That is why I value Nurse Barker’s services, even if you are unable to do so.”

Helen understood the hint.

“She means she’ll back up the nurse, and I shall go to the wall,” she decided.

She was struck by the mildness of Miss Warren’s manner when she tapped at the dressingroom door.

“May we come in?” she asked.

Nurse Barker gave them permission. She was sitting, with her feet stretched across a chair, smoking a cigarette, which she laid down on the ash-tray, while she rose, in grudging respect to her employer.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” apologized Miss Warren. “I only wanted to know if you’d had any trouble with Lady Warren?”

“She was rather naughty about her sedative,” replied Nurse Barker, “but I soon persuaded her to take it.”

“Then I hope you will get a good night.”

“In this wind? What a hope. I’m staying up, like every one else.”

“Who do you mean?” asked Miss Warren. “I am going to bed. And the Professor will certainly sleep until morning. He has taken a slight overdose of a sleeping-draught.”

Nurse Barker clicked contemptuously.

“Why didn’t he ask me to measure out the right quantity?” she asked.

“The Professor would hardly ask a woman to do what he could do. better himself,” said Miss Warren stiffly. “He might have been aware of what he was doing when he insured some sleep. He knows the importance of conserving his strength, with so many dependent on him.”

Nurse Barker was not listening to the hint of the source of her own wages. A phosphorescent gleam—half of alarm, half of satisfaction—lit up her deep-set eyes.

“Odd,” she gloated. “It looks as if someone was clearing the way for himself.”

Helen saw panic leap into. Miss Warren’s eyes.

“How is that possible?” she asked. “There is a good reason for all that has happened. Take one instance alone. Mr. Rice, and my nephew and his wife all left this house because I turned out that dog.”

“No, you must go back a bit further,” declared Nurse Barker. “Did Rice know you hated dogs?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Then, do you know who first told him about a dog for sale?”

Helen listened with a chill at her heart. Did the sequence of events appear harmless because she saw only the trivial links? How far back did the chain really stretch? To what dark brain did it lead?

It was a relief when Miss Warren spoke impatiently.

“Of course you could conjecture endlessly, but it is entirely futile. What sinister agency was at work when I forgot to screw the cap of the cylinder?”

Helen was on the point of giving the true explanation of the incident, where she remembered that she must not be tray Mrs. Oates’ confidence. She listened, unhappily, while Nurse Barker turned the knife again.

“Now there are only three women in the house,” she said.

“Four,” corrected Helen proudly. “I saw Mrs. Oates was only confused. So I pulled her round. She’s sober now.”

Miss Warren and the nurse stared at Helen.

“It seems to me,” said Miss Warren reflectively, “that you are capable of looking after yourself.”

“I’ve done it all my life,” Helen assured her. “I’m sure you’re equal to an emergency, Miss Capel,” she said. “All the same, if you do not intend to go to bed, I should feel easier in my mind if I knew you were with Mrs. Oates.’”

Helen, who was beginning to crumble under the combined excitement and strain, began to gulp at this unexpected sign of consideration.

Mrs. Oates was still slumped down in her chair when she returned to the kitchen; but she had climbed out of her slough of depression. Some of her old jovial humor beamed from her eyes as she shook her finger at Helen.

“Stealing about on rubber heels?” she asked. “Trying to put salt on my tail, are you. You’ll find I’m too old a bird to be caught that way.”

“The plot thickens,” Helen said dramatically. “Exit the Professor.”

Mrs. Oates listened to her story of the Professor’s mishap with little concern.’

“He’s no loss,” she said. “He does nothing but set in his study, and think.”

“That’s my point exactly,” explained Helen. “Without him, we’re a body without a head.”

Apparently, the same thought had occurred to Nurse Barker, for, a little later, she entered the kitchen with the dignity of a queen who had temporarily laid down her sceptre.

“I thought we had better have an agreement,” she said. “In the Professor’s absence, who is to assume authority?”

“The mistress, of course,” replied Mrs. Oates.

“She’s not competent,” declared Nurse Barker. “She is definitely a neurotic type. You must allow me to know my own subject.”

“I shall continue to take my orders from her,” said Helen. “she engaged me, and she pays my salary.”

“Hear, hear.” Mrs. Oates clapped her hands. “Listen to the doctor’s young lady, telling you off.”

“I didn’t know you were engaged to Dr. Parry,” said Nurse Barker.

Her thin lips were sucked together in a thin line while her sunken eyes gleamed with jealousy.

“I’m not,” said Helen hastily.

Although the subject was obviously tender Nurse Barker seemed unable to discard it.

“I suppose it’s your size,” she said. “Rum how men always choose short women. It’s a sign of their own mental inferiority. They know that your brain corresponds with your size, and they feel unable to cope with their intellectual equals.”

The speech made Helen see red, for she was sensitive on the score of her defective education.

“Perhaps they find us more attractive,” she said.

Nurse Barker lit a cigarette with fingers which shook with passion.

“You mean to insult me deliberately,” she said huskily. “Isn’t that rather unwise? Very soon you’ll be left alone with me.”

“Mrs. Oates will be here, too,” Helen reminded her.

“Will she?” Nurse Barker gave a meaning laugh. “If I were you I wouldn’t bank upon that.”

Puffing fiercely at her cigarette, she tramped out into the hall. “What did she mean?” asked Helen uneasily.

“Bilge,” commented Mrs. Oates. “All the same,” she added gloomily, “we didn’t ought to do it. She came down here for a crack and we turned her sour. I begun it, and you finished it.”

“She shouldn’t leave poor old Lady Warren so much,” said Helen defensively.

“Now, don’t go and be sorry for her,” advised Mrs, Oates. “She can take care of herself. Locking up them two is like shutting in a lion with a tiger. You wonder which will walk out in the morning.”

“I wish I could be sure that Lady Warren can defend herself,” Helen said. “I’ve got a real fear of that nurse.’”

“Don’t let her know it,” advised Mrs. Oates.

“No.” Helen glanced at the clock. “I wish I knew exactly whereabouts on the road Mr. Oates is at this minute,” she said. “The time seems to crawl. If only I can last out, till he comes.”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“I’ve a terror of one thing, which may happen to me,” confessed Helen.

“Don’t tell me,” urged Mrs. Oates. “You never know who may be listening to you.”

Helen opened the kitchen door and looked into the deserted basement hall.

“This is what I’m scared of,” she said. “Supposing I heard a child crying outside. I believe I should have to go out. Just in case, you know.”

“Now, don’t you go and be a fool,” implored Mrs. Oates. “In all the time I’ve been here there’s never been a baby parked on the doorstep. Miss Warren’s not the sort to come home with a bundle in her arms.” Helen laughed as she sprang to her feet.

“I feel so guilty,” she said. “She’ll be wanting to go to bed soon, and the handle of her door is not screwed up.”

Grateful for a job, she ran upstairs, to the first floor. Everything seemed especially safe and normal as she passed through the hall. When she reached the first floor landing she noticed that the light was shining through the transom above Miss Warren’s bedroom door.

“I hope she’s not going to bed,” she thought, as she tapped at the door.

“Yes,” called Miss Warren’s voice.

“Oh, Miss Warren,” said Helen, “I’m terribly sorry to disturb you. But could you hand me out the tools you put on your chair?”

“Certainly, Miss Capel, only don’t leave them outside again”

Helen heard Miss Warren’s step crossing the polished boards and then the handle revolved in an impotent whirl.

She watched it, in slight surprise.

“Can’t you open the door?” she asked.

“No,” was the reply. “The handle keeps turning round in my hand.”

WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH A DRUNKEN SAILOR?

Although vaguely disturbed, Helen felt mistress of the situation.

“It’s all right,” she called. “I’ll open it, this side.”

Full of confidence; she gripped the handle, only to feel it slip round in her fingers, as though it were oiled.

“It seems to have gone completely,” she cried. “You have the tools. Do you think you could manage to put it right?”

“No, the screw is missing,” was the reply. “It doesn’t matter. Oates will repair it early tomorrow.”

“But, Miss Warren,” persisted Helen, “it’s not right you should be locked in. Suppose-suppose there’s a fire?”

“Why should we suppose it? Please go, Miss Capel. I have important work to finish.”

“Is the key your side?” Helen asked.

“No. The lock is broken, so I had a bolt put instead… . Now, please leave me in peace.”

Helen turned forlornly away. As she passed the blue room, Nurse Barker, who had been attracted by the noise, poked her head around the door.

“What’s the matter now?” she asked.

When Helen explained the situation she gave a dis agreeable laugh.

“What did I tell you? She locked herself in, on purpose.”

“I can’t believe it,” declared Helen. “Why should she do that?”

“Funk. Oh, I’ve seen it coming on… . And—I’ve seen something else, which is due before very long. Your troubles are not over yet, my girl.”

Helen was impressed by the woman’s perspicacity.

“Nurse:’ she cried impulsively, “I want to apologize to you. If I’ve hurt your feelings, it was unintentional” “Rather late in the day to eat humble-pie,” sneered Nurse Barker. “The harm’s done.”

“But can’t I do something to make up?”

“You can pledge yourself to obedience.”

Helen hesitated to give her promise, as her thoughts flew to Dr. Parry. She knew that Nurse Barker would do everything in her power to block his interference. On the other hand, he was not likely to rush over to the Summit, while the woman was a formidable obstacle to any move on the part of the maniac; she had extraordinary physical strength and a mind which bit like a ferret.

She gave a military salute.

“I promise, Sergeant,” she said.

“This is no joke,” frowned Nurse Barker. “I’m not sure I can trust you. In all my experience, I’ve never been so grossly insulted as by an intoxicated char and a raw, untrained girl.”

“Oh, Nurse,” she said, “I never thought it.”

Nurse Barker clocked back to the listenin incident.

“Yes, she said it,” she remarked. “But you were licking up her words.”

“No, I had to humor her, because she was a trifle cock eyed. I never thought what she did.”

“What did she think?”

Helen understood the alleged hypnotic power of a serpent, as Nurse Barker held her with a glittering eye.

“She thought you were a man,” she admitted.

Nurse Barker swallowed convulsively.

“She’ll pay for that,” she muttered, as she turned back to the blue room.

Helen reviewed as much of the past as she could remember, on her way downstairs. She wished that her con science, was entirely clear on the score of Nurse Barker, as she hated to feel a hypocrite.

On the whole, she felt tolerably comfortable. She had discounted the razor incident, and had mentioned it to no one. When Mrs. Oates, had boasted of her conquests, she had disclaimed them. Her dislike of the nurse was her own affair.