The Greatest Murder Mysteries of Mary Roberts Rinehart - 25 Titles in One Edition. Mary Roberts Rinehart. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Mary Roberts Rinehart
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9788027244430
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in the mortuary," I said. "What is that?"

      "Mortuary linen closet," said Tommy. "Always kept locked, and still locked."

      "You haven't examined it?"

      "The linen room woman carries the key, and she is away over night."

      "Nobody was missing in the house?"

      "We made a tally immediately, with the guards all watching every door and window. Two internes and I made the count ourselves, not a soul was missing.'

      "He was—strangled?'

      "No. That's one of the queerest things about It. He had been squeezed —his chest is caved in, and I think the autopsy will show that a point of one of the ribs entered the heart. Death was almost instantaneous."

      "And the brown coat?" I asked. "How did it get there?"

      "God knows," said Tommy, and rapped at Miss Blake's door.

      Chapter XIV.

       Bag and Baggage

       Table of Contents

      Tish stared at me the next morning when I told her the story Tommy had told me, and laid the key of the mortuaiy linen closet on her breakfast tray.

      "The Blake girl is still out of her head," I finished up, "and I found the key, as I tell you, on her dresser, labeled as you see it. I don't want you to show it to Tommy, Tish."

      'Tommy!" said Tish scornfully, and pushed away her breakfast untasted. "I tell you, Lizzie, if I had had charge of things last night, that poor wretch would have carried in this tray this morning, with the tea slopped over everything as usual. Tommy is a nice boy, but he's stupid."

      "But I don't understand," said Aggie from the bed. "If you think, Tish Carberry, that finding the key to a linen closet is going to prove anything against that pretty little nurse, I'll tell Tommy about it myself."

      "Exactly," said Tish, coldly. "And if you do, I wash my hands of the whole affair. As far as I'm concerned in that case, she can go under suspicion the rest of her life."

      "Suspicion of what?" Aggie demanded tartly. "She didn't kill Briggs, I suppose. Even if she could have broken his ribs, as Tish says, and she's a perfectly respectable girl—you can see that in her face—she was right on the stairs here when it happened, wasn't she?"

      Tish got up and put the key of the linen closet in the lower bureau drawer.

      "Don't be any more of a fool than you can help, Aggie," she said, and shut the drawer. "I don't think Miss Blake killed Briggs, or got up on the wall and made a footprint a foot and a half long near the ceiling, or hung Johnson by the neck to a chandelier. And if my nephew chooses to be so head over ears in love with the young woman that he's no more capable of logical thought than a guinea-pig, I shall look into the thing myself."

      "Guinea-pig," said Aggie. "Now then, that's another thing, Tish. The rabbits—"

      "Lizzie," Tish said, snubbing her completely. "Will you see if Miss Durand is off duty yet? I want to talk to her. Lewis won't be back from breakfast for an hour. She can't Fletcherize and tell that story at the same time."

      The hall nurse promised me to find Miss Durand and send her to Tish's room, and started at once in the search for her. She turned to say, over her shoulder and with bated breath, that detectives were in the building now, that Tommy was with them, and that there was a story that they'd found some curious prints on the wall in the room where Johnson's body had hung.

      "A foot, and just beside it a woman's hand," she said. "I hear they are going to take impressions of all the hands in the hospital to-day!"

      I carried this to Tish, and she affected indifference. But she was visibly uneasy and at different times I caught her staring fixedly at her palm.

      At eight o'clock Miss Durand came in looking tired and white, Tish asked her to sit down and offered her a little port wine, but she refused.

      "No, thanks," she said. "I'm off to bed soon, and if I can only sleep—I didn't sleep much yesterday."

      "Too noisy, I daresay," said Tish. "Poor Briggs complained of the same thing in this very room yesterday."

      "Oh, it wasn't the noise. I—I got to thinking." She tried to smile. "There have been so many strange things happening!"

      "I should think so," said Aggie. "That poor Miss Blake! Do you think—"

      Tish fixed her with a cold eye, and Aggie's voice trailed off to nothing. She looked frightened.

      "Miss Durand," said Tish, suddenly hitching her chair forward, "I should like you to tell me why you left Johnson to die alone end why you absented yourself from your ward for fifty minutes."

      Miss Durand turned even paler, and got up. "I didn't understand that you—"

      "Sit down," said Tish. "I guess you know I'm chairman of the Ladies' Committee here, and you'd better tell me than tell the police. I don't start with the belief that half the hospital's guilty and the other half accessories to the crime, and that's what the police will do, according to my experience."

      You may ask Bates—" she began. So I may," said Tish cheerfully. "And if you are around he'll say you were away a scant ten minutes and if he's alone, he'll swear to an hour or more."

      "It was less than an hour, I'd swear to that anywhere," said Miss Durand. "It couldn't have taken so long!"

      "What couldn't have taken so long?" Tish demanded.

      Miss Durand looked around at the three of us and seemed to be thinking.

      "What do you mean by saying I'd better tell you than tell the police?" she asked.

      "Just this," Tish said briskly getting out her sheet of note-paper. "I flatter myself I can see as far through a stone wall as most people, especially if there's a crack to look through. I've been looking at this particular stone wall off and on since four o'clock this morning, and—well, I think I begin to see daylight."

      "Humph!" said Aggie. "Then the least I can say, Tish—"

      "Now, Miss Durand," Tish began, biting a point on her pencil. "We'll get at this systematically. Did Briggs have any enemies in K Ward?"

      "He wasn't popular. I guess old Johnson hated him about the most."

      "Ah!" said Tish, and put that down. "Did you know Johnson was dying when you left the ward?"

      "He'd been dying for twenty-four hours and had been unconscious for six," she defended herself. "Nobody can tell when that sort will make a clean get-away."

      "Good gracious!" Aggie ejaculated, and even Tish looked shocked. Miss Durand was clearly not in Miss Blake's class: seen in the morning light, her face looked hard as well as tired.

      "I see," said Tish, and put down "clean getaway." "Now, Miss Durand, why had Linda Smith been crying when she came to you at midnight that night?"

      "She said she had had some words with the head nurse. She had missed a lecture that evening."

      "Why did she miss the lecture?"

      "I don't know."

      "Don't know or won't tell?" asked Tish, over her note-paper.

      "Don't know," snapped Miss Durand, and for all I didn't like her, I thought she was telling the truth.

      "Now, Miss Durand," Tish observed, sitting back and fixing her lame leg on its hassock, "I'd be glad to hear why Miss Linda Smith took you away from your wards that night, and where you went."

      "She had forgotten to attend to something, and she came back to fix it."

      "What?"

      Miss Durand stared at Tish and Tish leaned back, with her pencil stuck through the knob of her hair, and stared at Miss Durand. As I have said somewhere