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Authors: Ellery Queen

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The Door Between (23 page)

BOOK: The Door Between
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Eva’s hand went out in a groping gesture; and Dr. MacClure took the paper from her fingers as they grew nerveless and slack. They read the message together, in pale silence; and then the doctor handed it futilely to Ellery.

Terry Ring scanned it eagerly over Ellery’s shoulder.

Even through the Headquarters stationery and the mechanical perfection of Inspector Queen’s deskman, some of the profound fatigue and depression of its author emerged.

 

To Whoever Finds Me:

I cannot leave this world without a word.

I have been my own judge. Now I am my own executioner. I have taken a life; I take my own.

Dear daughter, forgive me. Believe me, my darling you have given me secret happiness. It is more than I have given you. Your mother is a monster; thank God the monster was human enough to keep her shameful secret from you. Bless you, dearest.

Dear John, I have poisoned your life. I know you loved me long ago. And now that you love my sister, our lightning destiny strikes once more. I have seen it coming and I have been powerless against it. And so I have done what in my monstrous helplessness I must do … If only you had not gone away! If only you had taken her with you! For you are the only one in the world who might have saved my sister’s life. But with your leaving went her last protection against our insensate fate, her last hope.

May God have mercy on both our souls – my sister’s and mine. Good-bye, John. Take care of my sweet girl.

Bury this, you who find me, with my body.

 

Ellery felt Terry gripping his arm. “Come here!”

They moved aside. “Look,” said Terry fiercely. “Something’s all cockeyed!”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, she wrote it all right. But she never killed her sister!”

“How do you know?” Ellery was re-reading the letter.

“I tell you I know! She couldn’t have, anyway. How did she get out of Karen’s bedroom if she did? Even if she came back from Philadelphia to pull the job and then returned to take poison in that West Philly hole!”

“Well,” murmured Ellery, “Somebody killed Karen Leith, and therefore somebody got out of that room. Why not she?”

Terry stared at him. “Where do
you
stand? Your old man thinks the case is solved. Are you going to tell him about that bolted door?”

Ellery did not reply; he read the letter through a third time. Terry kept staring at him with a calculating coldness.

Then the Inspector said from behind them: “What are you crackpots jawing about?”

“Oh, we’ve been discussing this note,” said Ellery instantly. He slipped it into his pocket.

“It’s a funny thing,” said the Inspector thoughtfully. “After letting herself be shut up like a prisoner by this Leith woman for nine years, she suddenly goes haywire. Why did she wait so long? I guess she went completely crazy.”

“That’s it,” said Terry. “Something snapped all of a sudden. That’s it, pop.”

“You know,” frowned the Inspector, “I’ve been thinking over this business. You get the queerest notions. Why do you suppose this Japanese woman, Kinumé, had to bring Karen Leith a sheet of stationery from downstairs? You’d think the Leith woman would have gone up to the attic – there was plenty of writing-paper up there.”

The brown man’s face settled like hardening plaster. But he said smoothly, with a laugh: “Leave it to pop, here, to think of something fancy! What’s the difference? You’ve got your killer for the books, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know,” said the Inspector in a troubled way. “I’ve just realized it’s been bothering me … Well, its easy enough to find out. We’ll ask her.”

“Dad –” began Ellery.

But the Inspector was already on his way back to the bench. Terry said swiftly: “I’m going.”

“Where?”

“Leith house. I’ll see that Jap first. Let go of me!”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort, said Ellery. “Terry, don’t be an ass. You’re liable to stir up something that would never have come out at all.”

“Let go of me!”

“No.” They glared into each other’s eyes.

“What’s the matter with you two?” demanded the Inspector. They turned and found the old man, Eva, and Dr. MacClure behind them.

“I’ll pop this half-baked son of yours on the nose!” said Terry coldly; but he managed to grimace at Ellery. “Telling me –”

“You stop that,” said the old man with irritation. “I’m getting sick and tired of you. Come on, Ellery. The MacClures are going with us.”

“Say, don’t go, Eva,” said Terry quickly, barring her way. “You’re all in. Why don’t you amble home and –”

“No,” said Eva drearily. “I want to pick up some of my – some of my mother’s things.”

“You can do that to-morrow!”

“Ring,” said Dr. MacClure.

“But –”

“Please let me pass,” said Eva coldly.

Terry dropped his hands and shrugged.

20

The white maid, O”Mara, admitted them to the house in Washington Square. She wore her old expression of sullenness; her stupid eyes were stormy.

“Say, how long you going to keep me here?” she demanded on seeing the Inspector. “You ain’t got no right to keep me here. My boy-friend says so – he works for a lawyer. And who’s going to pay my wages – huh? Answer me that!”

“You mind your tongue,” said the Inspector mildly. “It won’t be long now, if you’re civil.”

“I’ll pay the girl’s wages,” said Dr. MacClure.

“Oh, then it’s all right,” said the girl instantly, smiling at the doctor.

“Where’s Kinumé?” inquired the old man.

“Somewheres around.”

They went upstairs in silence and found Detective Ritter dozing on the sitting-room couch. “Where’s the Jap woman, Ritter?”

“Huh? Ain’t seen her, Inspector.”

“Well, go find her.”

Ritter departed yawning and Eva took a timid step towards the bedroom. The Inspector said in a kindly voice: “It’s all right, Miss MacClure. Go on up if you want to.”

“I’ll go with you!” said Terry.

“I’d rather be alone, Terry.” Eva vanished through the door leading to the attic stairs. They heard her dragging herself up to the attic, slowly, and yet with determined steps.

“Poor kid,” said the Inspector. “It’s certainly hard on her, Doctor. If there’s anything we can do –”

Dr. MacClure went to the window and looked out over the garden. “Inspector. What will be the disposition of Esther’s body?”

“There’s nothing the law wants of her any more, Doctor.”

“I want to make arrangements for her funeral.” He paused. “And for Karen’s, too, of course.”

“Certainly … Ah, come in, Kinumé.”

The Japanese woman stood timorously in the doorway, her oblique eyes luminous with apprehension. Ritter loomed majestically behind her, cutting off escape.

“One moment, Inspector.” Dr. MacClure turned around, went to Kinumé, took her wrinkled ochre hands. “Kinumé.”

Kinumé mumbled: “’Lo, Dr. MacCloo.”

“We know all about Karen, Kinumé,” he said gently. “And about Esther.”

She looked up at him, frightened. “Esther she die. Esther long time die in big water.”

“No, Kinumé. You know that isn’t true. You know Esther lived in the little room upstairs. You see, it won’t do any good to lie, Kinumé.”

“Esther die,” said Kinumé stubbornly.

“Yes, Kinumé. Esther is dead. But she died only a few days ago. The men of the police have found her body in another city, not far away. You understand?”

For a horrified instant the old woman stared up into his eyes; and then she burst into tears.

“You need not lie for anyone’s sake any longer,” said the doctor in a murmur. “Kinumé.” She kept weeping. “Only Eva is left to you, Kinumé.
Only
Eva
. Do you understand, Kinumé?
Only
Eva!”

But the old woman was too drowned in her sorrow to catch the subtleties of Occidental suggestion. She could only moan: “Missie die. Now Esther die. What becoming Kinumé?”

Terry muttered to Ellery: “It’s no use. She doesn’t get it.”

The Inspector beamed approval; he permitted Dr. MacClure to lead her to the couch and to sit her down, whereupon she began to rock to and fro in her grief.

“Don’t you worry about what will become of you, Kinumé,” said the doctor insistently. “Would you like to take care of Eva?”

Kinumé nodded suddenly through her tears. “Kinumé take care Eva’s mother. Now Kinumé take care Eva.”

“Protect her?” whispered the doctor. “Say, do nothing to bring her harm? Yes, Kinumé?”

“I take care Eva, Dr. MacCloo.”

The doctor straightened up and returned to the window. He had done all he could.

“Kinumé,” said Ellery. “It was Miss Karen who told you never to say anything about Miss Esther’s being alive in this house?”

“Missie say no tell, I no tell. Now Missie dead, Esther too!”

“Do you know who killed your Missie, Kinumé?” murmured the Inspector.

She raised her tear-stained face in bewilderment. “Kill? Who kill Missie?”

“Esther.”

Kinumé looked from one to another with her mouth slightly open; it was evident that this intelligence was too much for her. She began to weep again.

From the door Eva said faintly: “I can’t – I can’t touch a thing up there. It’s so – quiet. What’s the matter with me?”

“Come here, kid,” began Terry. “Don’t –”

But Eva went steadily to Kinumé and sat down, putting her arms around the weeping Japanese. “Don’t worry, Kinumé. We’ll take care of you.”

“Look,” said the Inspector, sitting down on the other side of the old woman. “Do you remember Monday afternoon, Kinumé? When Miss Karen sent you downstairs for some paper to write on? You remember?”

The gray head nodded; her face was hidden against Eva’s breast.

“Do you know why Miss Karen sent you for writing-paper? For surely she knew that in the attic-room there was much paper. Do you remember, Kinumé? Did she say?”

Kinumé sat up, showing her face. It looked blank and haggard in its yellow age. The three men standing held their breaths. So much depended on Kinumé. So much …

“Missie no can going Esther’s room,” said Kinumé.

So they had failed. Everything for nothing. On the couch Eva sat stonily, waiting with folded hands as a prisoner waits for sentence of death.

“She couldn’t go –” began the Inspector in a puzzled way. Then he stopped. He looked around at them. They were all so still. Terry Ring – he was actually not breathing. Dr. MacClure – so like a dead man. Ellery, so quiet and tense. Eva MacClure …
so
resigned
.

He shook the old woman’s arm with sudden violence. “What do you mean she couldn’t go to Esther’s room? Tell me, Kinumé! Why couldn’t she? The door was open, wasn’t it?”

Poor Kinumé was deaf to overtones. The thought that was beating through the air –
Yes. Say it was open. Say it was open
– did not reach her. She rocked a little more and said: “The door it stuck. We no can opening.”

“Which door? Show me!”

Kinumé rose a little eagerly, as if anxious to reveal now how cooperative she could be, and plodded into the bedroom to the open doorway leading to the attic. She pressed her wrinkled fingers against a panel; and to Eva, rooted to the couch, it was just like a finger on an electric button. This time, she thought dully, there was no possible intervention This time, she knew, was the end.

Inspector Queen quietly filled his chest with air. “Stuck, eh? This little bolt here – it would not push?”

“Stuck,” nodded Kinumé. “Missie try open – cannot. Kinumé try – no can. We try and try; no strong enough. Missie mad. She say Kinumé go down, bring liting-paper – she want lite letter. Kinumé go.”

“This was just before Miss Eva came, was it not?”

“Eva coming then. Soon as Kinumé bring up liting-paper.”

“I see,” said the Inspector, exhaling.

I see, thought Eva. He knew the truth at last. So now, no matter what Mother had written, it has finally come home to roost upon me. He saw – and to Eva it seemed that he had a thousand eyes, they were so sharp and merciless again as he studied her from the bedroom doorway.

“So you’ve taken me for a ride on the merry-go-round after all, young woman,” said the Inspector. “But it’s my last ride. And yours.”

“Listen, Inspector,” began Terry desperately. “She got it all wrong –”

“Oh, there’s something wrong, all right – very wrong indeed. Your mother couldn’t have killed Karen Leith, Miss MacClure. Just before the crime the attic door wouldn’t open. So no one
could
have come in or gone out of this bedroom through that door – Karen Leith couldn’t even have admitted anyone into this room through that door. The windows are barred – no one could have used
them
. And no one, you said yourself, passed through this sitting-room. Then how could your mother have done it? She couldn’t. Only you could. You murdered your aunt.”

“I have said it so often that it’s useless for me to say it again,” said Eva in a barely audible voice. “But for the last time – no. I did not kill Karen.”

“Yes,” said Inspector Queen. He glanced at Terry. “And now that I come to think of it, Mr. Smart-Aleck Ring, I see where you fit in. You unbolted that door after the crime, before Guilfoyle got here. If two other women couldn’t do it, the chances are Miss MacClure couldn’t have, either – so you did it, to open up a way of escape for a killer you knew didn’t exist.

You knew all along only this girl could have killed Karen Leith!”

Eva said: “Please. Oh, please. You
must
–”

“Don’t talk, Eva,” said Terry rapidly. “Don’t open your mouth. Let him rave.”

“As for this woman Esther, I see now where I went wrong. Stand still, Ring! Ritter, watch him. She was shielding her daughter – confessing to her daughter’s crime. She couldn’t have been telling the truth, because she couldn’t physically have committed the crime.

In the frozen atmosphere the telephone rang on Karen Leith’s writing-desk in the next room. It rang again. Finally the Inspector said: “Watch, Ritter,” and ducked out of sight.

“Hello? … Oh, Thomas! Where are you? … Well, so you’ve found me! What do you want?” The old man listened; he listened some more. Finally, without another word, he put the telephone down and returned to the sitting-room.

BOOK: The Door Between
13.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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