Some Must Watch, Ethel Lina White [crime books to read txt] 📗
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- Author: Ethel Lina White
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know how to deal with you,”
Before Mrs. Oates could retaliate, she had gone from the room.
“Well,” gasped Mrs. Oates, sniffing vigorously, “wot a nasty smell.
She’d better try no tricks on me, nor call me out of my name, or I’ll
give her a thick ear… I won’t be bullied by that.” “That’?” echoed
Helen. “Well, who’s to say if it’s a woman, or a man?”
Again Helen was gripped with the nightmare horror of the situation, as
Mrs. Oates sunk her voice to a hoarse whisper. She had drained her glass
again, in greedy gulps. It was only too clear that her guardian was
slipping away from her, leaving her to solve the enigma of the nurse.
It was true that she had still the moral support of the Professor and
his sister; but they were too negligible to help. They seemed to retreat
always to their distant horizons—aloof and invulnerable as shadows.
As a child, she had the reputation of never crying; but at this crisis
she suddenly broke down.
“Oh, don’t,” she cried piteously. “I can’t stand much more.”
As she began to cry, Mrs. Oates looked at her with puzzled eyes.
“What’s the matter, dearie?” she asked.
“I’m terrified,” confessed Helen. “You keep on drinking. Soon, you’ll be
a log, and then you’ll be in her power. You’re asking for it. I’ll do my
best, of course—but she’d make three of me, and leave scrapings. And
upstairs they won’t believe a word I say, until it’s too late.”
Helen spoke wildly, but her exaggeration had the desired effect of
sobering Mrs. Oates. In her turn she daubed lurid colors on her picture
of the future.
“It’s you she’s after,” she said. “She wants to do me in, to get at you.
Well, we’ll show her.”
Gulping with emotion, she pushed the bottle of brandy across the table.
“Put it somewhere where I can’t reach it.”
Helen took a rapid survey of the kitchen, while Mrs. Oates watched her
with painful interest. She had repented her noble resolution before the
girl started to climb up on to the tall dresser. She had to pull herself
up to the second shelf, before she was able to hoist the bottle on to
the top ledge: but directly it was out of Mrs. Oates’ reach, she felt a
sudden glow of confidence.
Scrambling from her perilous perch, she began to make a bargain. “You’ve
been wonderful,” she said. “If only you’ll go on playing the game, I
promise you shall finish that bottle, tomorrow evening, in my
sitting-room. I’ll keep Oates out, and I’ll stand any racket.”
“Swear,” said Mrs. Oates.
Helen went through the ritual of crossing her throat.
“Now, I’m going to make some strong coffee, to pull you round,” she
said.
“Cawfee,” groaned Mrs. Oates. “If ever you get a man who lifts his
elbow, Heaven help the poor bloke.”
Helen actually whistled when she was in her sitting room, for lighting
the spirit-stove revived memories of Dr. Parry. Since he had gone she had
experienced such a whirl of emotions that she had no time to think of
him. But as she passed the episode in retrospect it glowed with the dawn
of happiness.
She remembered his eyes when he prophesied her marraige, and his recent
promise to come to her aid if she were in need of him. At that moment
she re-lived her previous experience, when she had stood looking at the
refuge of the Summit, across the division of a dark spread of country.
She felt that, now, she was gazing down the length of a pitchy tunnel,
to a golden glory, which shone at its end. But, between her and the dawn
of a new day coiled the black serpent of the night.
The water boiled over and she made the coffee, filling a cup with strong
dark fluid, which she carried to Mrs. Oates.
“Here you are,” she said, “Black as night and hot as hell.”
“Hell,” repeated Mrs. Oates, as she held her nose and swallowed it in a
draught.
“Mrs. Oates,” asked Helen suddenly, “is Dr. Parry engaged?”
“Not yet, but may be soon,” replied Mrs. Oates. “I’m always asking him
when he’s going to get married and he always says he is waiting for a
young lady as he can pick up and pitch over the moon.”
Although Mrs. Oates’ remark was under suspicion of being inspired by her
audience, Helen smiled, and felt she must spread a little of her own
happiness. “I’ll take some coffee up to the nurse,” she said.. “I’m
afraid we hurt her feelings just now.”
When she reached the blue room, she knocked several times, but Nurse
Barker did not appear.
After a slight hesitation, Helen cautiously opened the Door an inch, and
peeped into the room.
It was in semi-darkness, for the electric light had been switched off;
only a faint bluish light from a shaded lamp, and the fitful glow from
the fire illumined the gloom. Stealing over the thick carpet, she could
make out the outline of Lady Warren’s fleecy jacket between the
bed-hangings of ultramarine. Apparently the old lady was asleep, for her
snores whined up and down the scale.
Afraid of waking her, Helen could not warn Nurse Barker of her approach.
The light shining through the partially-opened door of the dressing
room, told her that the nurse was inside.
Creeping closer, Helen took her unawares. She was apparently busy with
her toilet, for she stood before the glass intently examining her
reflection. As she rubbed a finger over her chin, Helen caught the gleam
of some small glittering object in her doubled-up fist.
She started violently as Helen scraped on the panel of thedoor, and
looked at the girl suspiciously.
“Well,” she said bitterly. “This is the one place where I thought I
might expect some privacy.”
“Yes, the arrangements are abominable,” agreed Helen. “I thought you
might like some coffee.”
“Thanks.”
Nurse Barker began to sip with studied refinement, which reminded Helen
of a stage performance she had witnessed.
“But the man I saw gave a more natural female-impersonation,” she
thought. She was so fascinated that she tried to find some excuse for
lingering.
“As you saw, Mrs. Oates has been drinking,” she said. “Can you tell me
of anything that will put her right?”
“Try an egg in Worcester sauce, and a hair of the dog that bit her,”
advised Nurse Barker. “What time do you go to bed?”
“About ten. But I’m not going to bed tonight.”
“Why?”
“Well, someone must sit up to let Oates in.”
Suddenly Nurse’ Barker pounced on the girl.
“So you’ve forgotten the Professor’s order already? He said you were to
admit no one.”
Helen looked the picture of guilt as she remembered Dr. Parry’s promise.
If he came, she did not intend t keep him outside.
“I did forget,” she confessed. “Please don’t tell the Pro fessor or Miss
Warren.”
“I’ll make no promises,” declared Nurse Barker. “If you are not watched
constantly, you will imperil the safety of everyone under this
roof… It’s bad enough having you here, at all—to draw him on us.
For he’s after you.”
At the reminder, Helen felt a tightening of her scalp.
“Why do you keep on trying to frighten me?” she asked.
“Because you forget.” Nurse Barker laid down her empty cup and
approached Helen. “There’s another thing I’ve been saving up to tell
you,” she added. “I’m not satisfied about that Welsh doctor.”
“Dr. Parry?” asked Helen incredulously.
“Yes, he’s a queer, excitable type—unbalanced and neurotic. He might be
a homicidal maniac.”
“Oh, don’t be a tool,” Helen said.
“You know nothing about him,” went on Nurse Barker. “These crimes are
committed by some man who inspires the confidence of his victims, and
who can move quickly from place to place… Well, think of the way
he rushes all over the country on his motor-bike—here, one minute—a
mile away, the next. And everyone trusts the doctor.”
“Of course they do,” declared Helen hotly. “I do, for one. I’d trust
Dr. Parry with my life. He’s a darling. He’s promised to come to the
Summit, in this awful storm, if I feel nervous.”
Nurse Barker took a cigarette from her case and stuck It—unlighted—in
the corner of her mouth.
“You needn’t trouble to send for him,” she sneered. “He may come without
waiting for an invitation.”
Helen turned towards the door. “I won’t disturb you any longer,” she
said. “Besides—I think you’re goofy.”
Nurse Barker gripped her arm.
“You’re afraid of me,” she said.
“I’m not.”
“What do you think of me?”
“I think you are very reliant—and clever.”
“A fool?”
“Oh, anything but that.”
“Then,” said Nurse Barker, “perhaps you will listen to me… unless
you are a fool yourself… The man who commits these crimes is
normal when the fit has passed. So you’ll have no warning: You may meet
him tonight. If you do, he’ll be the biggest surprise of your life. And
the last.”
As she listened Helen’s heart gave a sharp double-knock, and her head
swam, while Nurse Barker appeared to shoot up until she towered above
her like a white pillar. She felt that she was losing her grip upon
actuality. Everything was changing before her eyes in a hideous
transformation. She did not know whom to trust—what to believe. In the
confusion, friends masqueraded as enemies—humanity lost the common
touch.
What really’ worried her was the fact that Dr. Parry had spoken to her
in the same horrible language. She, had a vision of his face changing
before her gaze—his smile stiffening to a grimace—the red touch of
murder glowing behind his eyes.
The mist cleared from her vision as Nurse Barker lit a cigarette. All
her unwholesome dream was burned away, like withered membrane, as one
fear was killed by another. For the flame which reddened Nurse Barker’s
face revealed the shaven lip of a man.
CLEARING THE WAY
The shock had the effect of steadying Helen’s nerves. She had something
definite to fight, instead of groping in a shifting horror of a
nightmare. She had a problem for her brain to bite on, before she could
decide on any course of action. Slipping through the darkened blue room,
she went down to the hall.
Although the shaking of its one window, set high in the wall, reminded
her of, a storm at sea, it was less exposed than the sitting-rooms. It
was also a point of vantage, where she could watch the staircase and the
rest of the house. Moreover, she had the satisfaction of knowing that
both the Professor and Miss Warren were within call.
Sitting on the lowest stair—her chin cupped in her hands—she took stock
of the situation. To begin with, she knew that Nurse Barker was not the
maniac, since her alibi, at the time of the murder, was established. At
the worst, she was an impostor, who was in league with the criminal.
In that case, she must be kept under observation until they had
sufficient evidence to ring up the police. Helen felt that four
able-bodied persons should be able to cope with her—or him. The real
difficulty would be to convince the Warrens.
It Was Mrs. Oates who had started the hare of Nurse Barker’s doubtful
sex. Probably the idea was of alcoholic birth, for Helen was more
inclined to regard her as a harsh jealous woman, handicapped by
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