Arthur Upfield - The Devil_s Steps

Mrs. Parkes turned, and the motion of her body was not unlike that of a crane swinging a load from ship to wharf.

“I’m notdoin ’ nothing, marm-at the moment,” she said. “I have just killed a rat what must have come in through the scullery door what must have been left open by George when he went out a minute ago.”

Running feet sounded on the floorboards of the scullery, and George rushed into the kitchen, followed by Bisker. The steward’s face was dead white and his eyes were big. Bisker’s moustache and eyebrows appeared to be standing straight out. Mrs. Parkes crossed to the girl on the table whose eyes were still shut and whose mouth was still open and about to utter another shriek. Bony, who had turned slightly, was able to observe the reactions of all the others.

The brown moustache and beard of Raymond Leslie seemed to lie flat beneath his bulging eyes. The squatter was the least affected. Sleeman’s eyes were winking rapidly, and Downes was standing utterly still, and upon his face was no expression. His eyes were fixed in a wide stare, and his arms were bent, with the fingers of both hands extended like the legs of crabs. When Miss Jade again spoke, animation was resumed. She was the first to regain composure.

“Alice, stop that noise!” she commanded.

The girl, however, appeared to be wound up. Mrs. Parkes rolled over the three yards of tiled floor to the girl. She smacked her face-hard. Then she picked the girl off the table as though she were a vase and enfolded her within her arms against her prominent bust, saying:

“Now, now, dearie, hold your tongue. Here’s Miss Jade wanting to know what all the fuss is about. It’s all right! I killed theanimile. There, there, now…”

“George, did you leave the scullery door open?” demanded Miss Jade.

George began to breathe. His eyes blinked.

“No, marm,” he replied. “The door was open when I went out to ask Bisker about the luggage belonging to Mr. Grumman.”

“Bisker, did you leave the scullery door open?” demanded Miss Jade.

Bisker’s moustache twitched. Then his eyebrows twitched, and Bony wanted to laugh, for he wondered what the effect would have been had eyebrows and moustache twitched at the same moment. Like the others, he was experiencing reaction following those terrible screams.

Bisker said that he did not recall having left open the outer scullery door, and he stood like a wilted toadstool beneath Miss Jade’s withering condemnation of him, condemnation which Bony considered unjustified, as others in addition to Bisker doubtless passed in and out through that particular door. It was Mr. Sleeman who offered a suggestion which gained Bony’s approval.

“Well, all’s well that end’s well,” he broke in, the several drinks already presented to him on George’s tray that evening having mellowed him. “Miss Jade! I seek your favour. Will you be so kind as to permit me to call upon George to bring us all a dose of nerve-steadier? Our nerves have been subjected to great strain, and a little bracing fluid would restore them to normal.” Miss Jade’s anger was melting. “In view of the circumstances,” went on Mr. Sleeman, “I’d like to suggest that George wait upon all of us here that we might do honour to Mrs. Parkes. It was the most beautiful shot with a flat-iron I have ever witnessed.”

Miss Jade bent her head towards Mr. Sleeman, and George walked forward. He accepted the orders without the aid of a memo pad and departed.

“Dashed good idea of yours, Sleeman,” said Raymond Leslie. “I thought there had been another murder.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” began the girl in the mighty arms of the cook.

“Stop it, Alice, or I’ll belt you one,” Mrs. Parkes said, kindly. “Now, now, a little drop of brandy will settle you. Be quiet and sit down here with me.”

Mr. Sleeman began to relate an anecdote about his wife and a pet mouse released by his son. Mr. Downes patiently listened. Miss Jade began ordering Bisker to fumigate the wood-stack the following morning, for that was where the rat must have come from. Bisker stoutly denied the presence of rats in his wood-stack, but he was talked down. Bony crossed to look at the dead animal which, he saw, was a bush rat large even for that species. Then George came with the drinks, and Mr. Sleeman called for three cheers for Mrs. Parkes. One tiny cheer was given, as it became obvious that this frivolity did not have Miss Jade’s approval. After that, the kitchen party broke up.

In an atmosphere of anticlimax, Bony went back to the lounge for a quarter of an hour, after which he slipped away to the hall and out through the main entrance, ostensibly to take a walk, as the rain had ceased. Bisker was loading his early-momingpipe with “dottles” salvaged from the day’s smoking, when Bony entered his hut.

“The rain will have ruined the impression made by the man’s hand on the earth in the shrub tub,” he told Bisker. “To make a plaster cast now would be useless. Anyway, I have memorised the impression. Want to go to bed?”

“No, not for an hour,” Bisker replied.

“Any whisky left in the bottle?”

“A little drop I’ve been saving for a night-cap.”

“All right! I won’t keep you up long. Er -tell me, when you leave here in the mornings, how do you get into the house?”

Bisker proceeded to load the early-morning pipe with great care, and without looking up from that important task, he answered:

“Before George turns in, he locks the scullery door from the outside and he puts the key under a brick what lies ’andy. Then ’e goes round the house to the front door what he locks for the night. Of a morning, Igets the key from under the brick and goes in by that scullery door to begin the chores.”

“Did you see Miss Jade enter the house by the scullery door last night?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did she use the key left under the brick, d’you know?”

“No, she didn’t. Shemusta had a key of ’erown. I ’eard’erunlock the door, and I ’eard’erlock it again when she was inside. Me, I wassorta froze against the wood-stack. I could’ve swore she saw me, but she couldn’t ’ave.”

“Just what time was that?”

“Well, by me clock ’ere it was two minutes to ’alf-past twelve.”

“Was the house locked up at that time?”

“Oh, yes. There wasn’t a light anywhere. I made sure everyone wasabunk before I got through your winder with the blankets.”

Bony regarded Bisker’s fingers and noted with an inward shudder how the mass of “dottles” was being pressed into the pipe bowl to be smoked first thing in the morning.

“You clean all the boots and shoes, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Bisker.

“Dig into your mind and tell me if you have ever cleaned a pair of boots or shoes size twelve.”

“Size twelve!” repeated Bisker, looking up into Bony’s eyes. “That’s a mighty big boot. I take an eight boot, and you take a seven. Crummy! Size twelve! A bloke with that size in feet must be a very big man or a policeman. I remember cleaning a pair of gent’s shoes size ten-but size twelve! Why Fred, ’e takes a nine, and that’s bigger than the average.”

“Who is Fred?”

“ ’Ewas the bloke what first found Grumman in the ditch. You know, ’e was with me when you came to stand on the bank yestiddy morning.”

“What does he do?”

“Just works about, here and there, cutting wood, digging in gardens. ’E comes ’ere every week to cut the lawn.” Bisker laid aside the early-morning pipe and proceeded to cut chips from his plug for the pipe which had been dangling from his mouth. “Not a bad bloke, Fred. Been a shearer in ’is time. Me and ’im issorta cobbers. When either of us ’as a win, we shares a bottle.”