The Strings of Murder (33 page)

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Authors: Oscar de Muriel

BOOK: The Strings of Murder
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Suddenly I realized that I had heard him playing that piece before … and not just on any day. That was the piece he’d been playing on the very day I had lost my position in London; that dreadful day after I had faced the prime minister at Scotland Yard. It was Paganini’s 24th Caprice, the same theme. Nevertheless it sounded somehow … different. I had to listen carefully for a moment, enraptured by my brother’s skill and enthusiastic movements. I had to transport myself back to that awful day and remember every image, every step, every word and every smell … And then it all came clear; the sound
was
different because Elgie was playing a different violin. The resonance from the strings was not quite as bright;
the echoes of the low notes were louder and deeper, and the higher notes sounded pleasantly muffled, almost dark.

‘Could it be that …?’ I did not realize that I’d muttered those last words out loud until Downs spoke to me.

‘I beg your pardon, Inspector?’

I shook my head. ‘Nothing. Just a thought …’

When Elgie finished, there was a second of bewildered silence, and then a thunderous applause resounded across the room. I could hardly imagine that the ovations could get any louder and, apparently, Ardglass was thinking the same, for he received the violin with faltering hands. For a moment he held the instrument and stared at it with his confused little eyes. Slowly, he raised his head and gave Elgie a scornful stare. Everyone noticed his sombre mood and a tense, sepulchral silence fell on the room.

Alistair then lifted the violin and placed it against his already reddened neck. The silence was so deep that every scrape and scratch against the violin’s wood seemed amplified. He inhaled and exhaled deeply and noisily, and then brought the bow to the strings, as meticulously as a surgeon about to press a scalpel against a patient’s flesh.

Sharp, acute notes came, which immediately brought to my head the shrilling sound of a sword being sharpened. They began slowly and softly, but Alistair gradually increased both speed and volume, like an eerie chuckle rising to become a piercing, cruel cackle.

He played some extravagant passages, and then, twisting his fingers at abnormal angles, he played two different themes on two strings simultaneously; something I can only describe as spine-chilling.

One string quivered like the broken voice of a terrified
soul, while the other provided a low, anguished accompaniment that brought to mind Mrs Caroli’s desperate wails. Altogether, the strings produced unimaginable echoes and harmonics – had I not seen it with my naked eyes, I would have sworn we were listening to an entire string quartet brought from Hell.

The soft voice of an old woman came to my memory: ‘It was horrible music … like poking knives … fear itself must sound like that …’

Alistair concluded with a roaring chord, literally banging the strings with the bow.

The echoes took a moment to fade and then there was no clapping, but an eerie silence that could not have been more expressive. We were all open-mouthed; it was as though we’d seen Alistair go into a momentary fit of madness, which started and ended with that fiendish melody.

I remembered McGray reading that old book of his; the things that people said about Paganini and his ‘demonic deportment’.

And then it hit me!

I thrust myself towards Ardglass, frantically pushing and elbowing people. Elgie told me later that I was panting and snorting, though I did not even notice. I snatched the violin from his hands so swiftly that one of his fingers was cut by the strings.

‘Hey! I was win–’


Shut up!
’ I howled. I lifted the violin and looked into the case through the f-hole.

Amati
,
1629
.

Those were the very characters that I was expecting to find. I immediately turned to Ardglass. His face was as red
as if it had been scalded, the most frightened sparkle in his eyes.

‘Alistair Ardglass,’ I said firmly, so that everybody could hear, ‘you are under arrest for the murders of Guilleum Fontaine and Danilo Caroli, and possibly also of Theodore Wood.’

A general gasp filled the ballroom and the coarse voice of Lady Anne travelled all the way from the farthest corner: ‘
This is outrageous!

Ardglass pulled the most miserable face. ‘I-I … can explain! It’s not what it seems!’

‘You
will
explain,’ I said. ‘You shall have plenty of time in the questioning room.’

‘No, no!’ he babbled, cowering and stepping backwards until he tripped on the music stands of the orchestra. How pathetic he looked.

‘Do not make me force you out!’ I hissed. I did not feel like running after him and dragging him away as if he were a child in a tantrum. Fortunately he did come back to his senses and, very slowly, started to make his way to the entrance. I followed him closely, for I am used to unpleasant surprises when arresting people, but Ardglass simply kept saying once and again that he could explain it all. When we reached the main hall it was almost surreal to have the butlers help us put on our overcoats. One of the old men patted his master on the shoulder and Alistair could not hold back his tears.

Finally, we walked out of the house to find that Duke Street was unusually busy, given the time. While we waited for the carriage I looked at the violin, still in my hands. The instrument had a normal scroll instead of the instantly
recognizable lion head. Looking closely, new fittings over the original wood were pretty obvious.

‘What did you do with the carved lion?’ I asked. ‘Did you truly believe that nobody would notice?’

‘I found it in my office, Inspector!’ he whimpered. ‘I swear. I
swear
!’

I chuckled. ‘How convenient! Especially hard to swallow, though, given that you
were
present when it was stolen from the Carolis.’

He grabbed me by the shoulder. ‘I want to talk to Mr McGray. He will believe me.’

I laughed. ‘
Will he?
I do not think that McGray will be too keen to defend your case.’

‘He will believe
this
! He’s seen these things.’

‘Seen what things?’

Then Ardglass shuddered visibly, pressing his stomach with both hands, his face even redder than before. At first I thought that the tension was making him sick.

‘The Devil.’

It was as though the words ripped him. Alistair’s face turned into all the wrong colours and then, exploding like a breaking dam, he threw up the most disgusting spurt of wine and half-digested canapés. He fell onto the pavement, his hands and knees splashing on the pool of vomit, and then he yelled with his mouth still dripping: ‘
The Devil came to me! Gave me the fiddle. Talked to me!

I leaned over him. ‘Ardglass, do not speak, we’ll take you to a doctor …’

Ardglass did not seem to hear; his crazed eyes flickered about while he kept mumbling and spitting. I turned for a second, looking for someone to help me lift him up, but
that second was enough for him to leap to his feet and sprint towards the road.

He was a gruesome thing to behold: howling like a demented wretch, his arms flailing madly and his feet sliding on the mud.

Just as I started towards him, Ardglass ran across the path of a dray cart loaded with barrels. The two horses pulling it neighed loudly and the driver roared as he pulled the reins, but the road was so slippery that they could not stop. In an instant the beasts ran directly over poor Alistair: I had a full view of their hooves stomping on his chest and torso, and then the front wheel of the cart rolling over his legs. He did not even have time to scream.

As soon as the cart halted I ran towards Ardglass, not even aware of the small crowd of screaming people gathering around us. I had to crawl under the cart, where he lay in an awkward position, only to find what I already knew.

Alistair Ardglass was dead.

       
I want to tear my heart to rags; spoon my eyes out!

       
It is doomed, my perfect plan! All falls apart!

       
Pox on my bad luck! Pox on my cursed life!

       
These thoughts are venom. Venom! The mind poisons itself …

       
I must not despair, not despair. I must act quickly. I can still fix it quickly!

28

McGray stormed into the questioning room in his ever imposing manner. He took off his overcoat and tousled his soaked hair heartily, splattering tiny drops of water all over my face.

‘Who’s snuffed it now?’

I produced my handkerchief and wiped my face carefully before replying.

‘Oh, come on, Frey! The one moment I need ye to talk!’

‘Alistair Ardglass.’


What!
’ McGray looked at the cart driver I had detained. The chap was not yet twenty, and was so scruffy one could easily scrape filth flakes off his face. Trickles of sweat were running on his temples, and just like Ardglass barely an hour earlier, he looked as though he was about to wet himself.

‘Did this laddie kill him?’ McGray asked, arching an eyebrow.

I told him briefly how things had occurred, including Ardglass going mad and mentioning the Devil, and showed him the Amati violin, which lay on the room’s dusty table.

‘ ’Twasn’t my fault, sir!’ the chap moaned amidst tears. ‘The man ran into the street right in front of me! Ye were there! Ye saw him!’

‘Ye did say that Ardglass was goin’ all mad …’ McGray murmured, his eyes fixed on the violin.

‘I did, and I did see Ardglass running across the road out of control. However, I have found that this man has some interesting connections.’

‘Connections?’

‘Indeed. He happens to be employed by none other than your –’

Someone slammed the door open and the first thing to enter was the large, protruding breasts of Madame Katerina.


Where the Hell’s my lad?
’ she roared, her fake eyelashes framing an infuriated stare.

‘Your “lad”,’ I snapped back, ‘has run over one of our main suspects!’

McNair came panting behind her. ‘I’m so sorry, sirs! I told her to wait but she pushed me and –’

‘ ’Tis all right,’ McGray said. ‘The lady here’s got some questions to ask.’ He looked at me. ‘By
the lady
I meant
ye
, Frey!’

I pointed at the driver, whose tears could not be distinguished among his copious sweating. ‘Since Mr …’

‘McCloud,’ Katerina said.

‘Since Mr McCloud is unable to put two sensible sentences together, I must ask
you
to answer my queries.’

‘Go ahead,’ she answered challengingly.

‘What was this man doing on Dublin Street at such a late hour? He was not on a business errand, was he?’

‘Well, he was! On his way to Leith Harbour to deliver some barrels of ale that were s’posed to sail off tonight!
Thanks to you my clients in Dunbar won’t be getting’ their booze and I’ll lose –’


I do not give a damn about your business!
’ I roared.

McGray had to stand between us; Katerina’s abnormally long nails were getting too close to my face.

‘All right, ye’ve said enough. McNair, take these two outside. I need to talk to Frey.’

McNair led Katerina and her drayman out of the questioning room. The woman kept glaring at me, but a second before crossing the threshold there was a shift in her eyes. She gasped and halted, and then staggered as if stricken by a sudden nausea. McNair was going to help her but Katerina refused; she walked towards me slowly, waving her claw-like hands mysteriously. A strange glow in her eyes made it impossible for me to look away.

‘Oh God …
oh God
…’ she sighed as if the words were a physical pain. ‘You’re about to lose your most beloved one!’

We all looked at her in puzzlement. There was a moment of eerie silence … and then …


Oh, get her blazing arse out of here!
’ I yelled.

Once they were gone McGray sat on the table and examined the violin. ‘So ye think Madame Katerina’s involved? I thought ye smarter than that!’

‘It is too much of a coincidence,’ I said. ‘Besides, I remember you giving away confidential information when we first met her, and God knows what you told her today when she was helping you make a fool of yourself all around the New Town!’

Nine-Nails gnashed his teeth, a hellish fire in his blue
eyes. ‘I ken ye believe I’m an idiot and I can live with that, but don’t keep messin’ with the people I trust.’


The people you trust!
’ My voice came out piercingly high-pitched, and McGray took one step forward, as if about to punch the life out of me. He restrained himself and took a deep breath.

‘Believe it or not,’ he said, ‘she helped me get very useful information. Come on, I’ll tell ye in the library. Ye need to see what we found.’

Right before we left the City Chambers, Katerina approached McGray and gave him a thick leather bag, claiming that she’d almost forgotten.

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