John Carr - The Plague Court Murders

Now, Masters has his failings, but he is quick to turn every possible situation, even a bad one, to his advantage.

"Did you know he had a wife living, Miss Latimer?"

"No. Not that it was of great interest to me. I certainly never inquired."

"Just so." He switched, instantly. "Was it Mr. Darworth who suggested to you, miss, that - we'll say, that Mr. Dean Halliday's mind and future were - well, tied up at Plague Court?"

"Yes!"

"He talked about it a lot?"

"Always," she replied, jerking the word out. "Always! I-I've tried to explain to Mr. Blake how I felt about Mr. Darworth."

"I see. Did you ever suffer from headaches, miss, or nervous disturbances?"

Her eyes opened slightly. "I don't quite see.... Yes, that's true."

"Which he suggested he could cure through the proper medical use of hypnotic suggestion?" She nodded. Halliday twitched his head round, and seemed about to speak, but Masters caught his eye. "Thank you, Miss Latimer. Did he ever tell you, now, why he didn't exploit his psychic talents, say? You all believed he had great powers, for instance. But nobody ever inquired whether he was a member of the Psychical Research Society, or connected with any genuine scientific body of that nature; even whether he had any genuine associations.... I mean, miss, didn't he ever say why he hid his light under a bushel, or whatnot?"

"He said he was interested in savings souls and giving peace...."

She hesitated, and Masters lifted his hand inquiringly.

"He said that sometime his powers might be demonstrated to the world, but that he wasn't interested in that. ... He said he was more interested, if you want the truth, in setting my mind at rest about Plague Court." She spoke vacantly, but in a rapid tone. "Ugh! I say, when I remember-! He told me it would be horribly dangerous. But that he wanted my gratitude. You see I'm frank, Inspector. I-I couldn't have said all this a week ago."

She raised her eyes. Halliday's face was ugly and satirical; with an effort, he kept himself from speaking, and mouthed his cigarette as though he would jab it against his teeth like a pipe-stem.

Masters got up heavily. The room was very quiet while he drew out the end of his watch-chain, to which was attached a small, brightly polished object. He said, smiling: "It's only a new latch-key, Miss Latimer. One of those flat ones. I happened to remember it. If you don't mind, I'd like to try a sort of experiment. ..."

He went round the work-bench and picked up McDonnell's lantern. The girl flinched as he came towards her; she gripped the sides of the chair, and her eyes strained up at him. Close to her, he held the lantern high and steady over her head - a weird scene, with the shadow-barred glow streaming down over her upturned face, and Masters' bulk silhouetted against it. The key glittered a dazzling silver as he held it about three inches above the line of her eyes.

"I want you, Miss Latimer," he growled softly, "to look steadily at this key. . .

She started to get up, scraping back her chair. "No! I won't! I won't do it, I tell you, and you can't make me! Every time I look at that—“

"Ah!" said Masters, and lowered the lantern. "It's quite all right, miss. Please sit down again. I - only wanted to test something." As Halliday strode forward the inspector lumbered back to his work-bench, turned, and regarded him with a sour smile. "Steady, sir. You ought to be grateful to me. I've broken at leapt one ghost. That there's a part of Darworth's trick of making people believe him. If the patient's a good hypnotic subject....

Wheezing, he sat down. "Did he try to cure your headaches, Miss Latimer?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever make love to you?"

The question was shot out so quickly after the lazy tone of the preceding one that the girl had said, "Yes," before she seemed to realize it. Masters nodded.

"Ever ask you to marry him, Miss Latimer?"

"Not - not exactly. He said that if he succeeded in cleansing this house of evil spirits, he would ask ... I say! It-it sounds so crazy, and absurd, and-" She swallowed hard, and her eyes were hysterically amused. "I mean, when I think of it. He was like a Monte Cristo and Manfred rolled into one; gloomy and apart; like a cheap film, like- But you didn't know him, you see. That's the point."

"A rare sort of fellow, that gentleman," the inspector said dryly. "He had a different mood and character for everyone he approached.... But after all, you see, he was murdered. That's what we want to talk about now. It wasn't hypnotism or suggestion that let somebody walk through a stone wall or a bolted door and hack him to pieces. Now, Mr. Halliday! - I want to hear everything that went on in that front room from the time the lights were put out. Tell your story, and I'll ask Miss Latimer to confirm it."

"Right you are. I'll tell it exactly," nodded Halliday; "because I've been thinking of nothing else all night." He drew a deep breath, and then glanced sharply at Masters. "You spoke to the others. Did they admit hearing somebody moving around in there?"

"You're telling the story, sir," Masters reminded him, lifting his shoulders blandly. "But, um, didn't you have a conference among yourselves? All that time between witnesses, up there?"

"I don't know about the conference. We jolly well nearly had a fight. Nobody would admit what they'd told you, and Ted was a bit loony. Nobody would go home with anybody else ... they all left in separate cars. Aunt Anne wouldn't even let Featherton help her out to the street. Fine, sweet gathering. Never mind.. .

"This is what happened.

"Aunt Anne insisted on sitting round and concentrating, trying to help Darworth out. I didn't want to do it; but Marion begged me not to make a fuss, so I said all right. Also, I wanted to make up the fire - it had gone out. I didn't see any sense in sitting around in a cold room when it wasn't necessary. But Ted said the wood was green and damp, and wouldn't burn anyway, and was I a pampered little duckling to be afraid of the cold? Ha! Well! we got our chairs-"

The inevitable question followed. Both he and Marion verified the order of which he had been informed: Lady Benning on the right of the fireplace, then Halliday, Marion, Major Featherton, and Ted at the other end.

"How far were the chairs apart?"

The other hesitated. "A good distance. That's an immense fireplace in there, you know. I had to stand on tiptoe to blow out the candles on the ledge over it. I don't think any of us could have touched anyone else by stretching out a hand ... except" - he looked Masters in the eye "except Marion and myself."

The girl was staring at the floor. Halliday put his hand on her shoulder. He went on: "I'd taken good care to get my chair only a little way from hers; couldn't get too close, because Aunt Anne was watching like a hawk; and I didn't want to seem - oh, damn it, you know!

"I got hold of her hand, and we sat there. I don't know how long; and what was worse-I'll admit it-that darkness was beginning to get on my nerves. I don't care how matter-of-fact a man is" He looked at us defiantly, and Masters nodded. "Besides, somebody was whispering or mumbling, very low. The same words, over and over again, with a sort of rustling sound, and there was a noise like somebody swaying backwards and forwards in a chair. God, it was enough to make your hair stand on end!

"I don't know how long afterwards it was, but I had a feeling that somebody had got up...."

"You heard something?" demanded Masters.

"Well, it's hard to explain, but if you've ever sat at a seance you'll understand. You can feel movement; a breath, or a rustle, a sense of something moving in the dark. You can only call it a feeling of nearness. I did hear a chair scrape, a little before that; but I'm not prepared to swear it was - whoever it was that got up."