Sonnet to a Dead Contessa (33 page)

When the song was over, she got up and left with the rest of the congregation. She felt as if she had been somehow beaten, not physically, but she knew that in her heart something had taken place. As she walked away from the church, the thought came,
I must learn to behold the Lamb of God!

“Well, here you are—the newest Scotland Yard wonder!”

Dylan had entered the Scotland Yard offices and found Sandy Kenzie as he had been instructed to do. Grant was on his honeymoon, and now Dylan was ready for a new career.

“I’m glad to see you here, Dylan. You have a lot of talent we can use in this place.”

“I hope I’ll be of some use.”

“Come along. Let me introduce you to the rest of the men. Some of them are fine chaps, and some of them are not. You’ll be able to sort that out.”

Most of the inspectors were, indeed, able men and accepted Dylan’s new position eagerly since it would take some work off their shoulders. There was one, however, named William Lacey, who had sneered at him and refused to shake hands. “An actor? I don’t see what good you’d be.”

Sandy whispered, “He’s lazy and not much of an inspector. We’ll put him where he won’t do any damage.”

“I hardly know where to start, Mr. Kenzie.”

“‘Sandy’ will be fine. Let me show you the building, and then we’ll get to work.”

The two went through the entire office building, and finally in Sandy’s office they went over the list of suspects and victims and the so-called clues in the Slasher case.

“This last poem has got us all baffled. Neither Superintendent Grant nor Lady Trent can make anything out of it. Why don’t you take it and study it? Then we’ll start talking to the suspects again.

Dylan took the single piece of paper and studied the words carefully. A scowl came to his face, and he muttered, “Sounds like nonsense to me—but it means life or death to some poor woman!”

Hugh Edwards stood at the door and introduced himself. Meredith knew Edwards was a famous producer and said with regret, “I’m sorry, sir, but Dylan’s not here.”

“Sorry to hear that. By the way, I hear that you and Dylan are to marry.”

“Yes, sir, that’s true.”

“My congratulations to Dylan, and to you too, of course. You must help me persuade him to be in my new production. It’s
Henry V.
Dylan would be just perfect for the role.”

“Oh, he would be excellent in that!”

“Then you must persuade him. If anybody can, I think it would be you.”

“I’ll try, sir.”

Edwards frowned. “I can’t think why he wouldn’t want to go on. He’s doing so well in the theatre.”

“I hope he does. He gives pleasure to so many people.”

“Well, here’s my card. If you have any success, let me know at once.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.”

As soon as the door was closed, Meredith leaned back against it. “He’s got to do it! He’s just got to do it!”

The prison was much like an underground coffin, at least to Dylan. He had been there before, twice as a prisoner, other times as a visitor to his friends when he had been investigating a crime scene. Now he waited until the guard brought the inmate in. He looked up and said, “Hello, Felan, have a seat.”

Rian Felan stared at him. “Do I know you?”

“We met once, but I’m sure you wouldn’t remember it.”

“What’s your name?”

“Dylan Tremayne.”

Rian threw himself down and grinned. “I do remember you, I think. You were part of the Hanks family.”

“For a while, yes.”

“What are you doing here now? You’re not a lawyer, are you?”

“No, I’m with Scotland Yard.”

Amazement spread across Felan’s face. “But you were a criminal yourself.”

“I was only twelve years old, Felan. I didn’t even know the Hanks were thieves until they took me off the street almost starved to death.”

“Well, they made a good thief out of you. I remember the old man would shove you through windows. You were so skinny then. Like a snake,” he said. “And you would let them in and they’d strip the place.” He laughed.

“Things have changed, and I need to talk to you about these murders.”

“You mean the Slasher? I killed one woman, Dylan. She was my woman, and she cheated on me. I cut her up, and I enjoyed it. I’d do it again too.”

Dylan shook his head. “It’s a miracle you didn’t hang.”

“Well, maybe God’s looking out for me. What do you think?”

“I don’t think so. I want to ask you a few questions.”

“I bet I’ve heard them before. Superintendent Grant has asked me every question he could think of—and so did that inspector with the Scottish accent. Go ahead though. I’ll give you the truth.”

For the next hour Dylan shot question after question at Rian Felan, but by the end of that time he was convinced that Felan was not guilty. He was guilty of murdering a woman and then getting off by some form of miracle, but if he was telling anywhere near the truth, and Dylan knew he would check it out, Rian was not the Slasher.

Finally rising, he said, “Well, I’ll be going now.”

“When is Grant going to give up and let me out of this place?”

“Can’t say about that. Need anything?”

Rian Felan was surprised. “Yes, I do. I need some money. I could buy some food if I had it.”

Dylan had very little money, but he pulled out two pounds and handed it over. “Old times’ sake,” he said.

“You’re all right. You’d better stick with your playacting though. It pays better than this detective business.”

As soon as Dylan stepped inside the house, Meredith came to him.

“I’ve had a good day. Scotland Yard detective now.”

“Listen,” she said, ignoring his opening remark. “Hugh Edwards came here.”

“I can guess what he wanted.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s been trying for weeks to get me to star in
Henry V
.”

“You’ve
got
to do it, Dylan! He’s a rich man. We didn’t talk money, but he’d pay well.”

Dylan pulled off his coat and draped it over a chair. He turned to her and said, “I thought you understood,
Meredith. I’m not going to be an actor.”

“You’ve got to, Dylan! You have to. How are you going to take care of a family?”

“I’ve got a job. It won’t be easy, but we can do it.”

The argument went on until finally Dylan could stand it no longer. He got up and said, “Meredith, we can talk about some things, and I’m willing to listen to your ideas, but this is my decision and it’s final. I’ll never go on the stage again.” He turned and walked out, and he heard her screaming at him as he hurried away, glad to be out of her range.

TWENTY-TWO

W
ell, behold, the husband cometh.”

Matthew Grant had come into the office, a big smile on his face, and he seemed to literally glow with happiness. “Yes, I am back, Dylan. I’m an old married man now.”

Dylan smiled at his friend, pleased to see him so content. “A week doesn’t make a marriage, but I suppose it’s a good start.”

Matthew seemed to be unable to contain himself. He walked around the office, paused to look out the window, then threw his arms apart in a gesture of utter happiness. “I’m the happiest man in the world, Dylan! All my life up to this point has been wasted. I should have gotten married a long time ago.”

Dylan laughed at Grant’s exuberance. “That wouldn’t have been possible. God was getting you a bride ready.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. You think God’s not interested in whom we marry?”

“I think you’ve been reading those Calvinistic sermons too much. The next thing I know you’ll be parking your carriage on the railroad track.”

Dylan laughed. “Not so bad as that. Now, tell me about your honeymoon.”

The two men sat down in the office, and for the next twenty minutes Dylan listened as his boss told him almost every detail. “She’s the sweetest, prettiest woman that ever lived.”

“Good that you should think so.”

Grant suddenly lifted his head, and a more sober light came into his face. “What about you, Dylan? Anything new on your own marriage?”

“No. Nothing.”

There was a flat quality in Dylan’s voice, and the light of happiness seemed to have faded. Matthew watched him, thinking,
He’s miserable, but he won’t admit it.
Aloud he said, “When’s the date?”

“We haven’t set one yet. Got to find a place to live, and money’s rather scarce.”

“I wish we could pay more, but this is all the budget affords right now.”

“No, Matthew, you’ve really saved my life giving me this job. I’m perfectly content with the wages.”

“You’ll do well, I’m sure. Won’t be long before you’ll be a full-fledged inspector. Now bring me up to date on what’s been going on these last few days.”

“At the present moment it looks as if Rian Felan is the best candidate because of his past history and witnesses who can place him near the residences of two of the murders.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think he did it.”

Grant looked at Dylan with surprise. “You say that with a lot of confidence. What makes you think so?”

“Oh, a lot of things. In the first place, Felan has no motive at all. He didn’t even know any of the murder victims. But we know he killed one woman in exactly the same fashion that all these women suffered. That ought to go for something. Still, I don’t think it’ll ever get him convicted. Another thing is his attitude. I knew him a long time ago, and I can tell a little bit about him. He’s no good, but I don’t think we’re going to be able to pin this on him.”

The two men talked for fifteen more minutes, and finally Grant threw up his hands. “Everybody’s impatient. They want this case solved, and so do I, but I don’t see any light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Something will turn up, Matthew.”

“Well, I hope so.” Matthew suddenly brightened and said, “By the way, Dora is cooking a dinner tonight. Her very first for guests, and you’re invited.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Matthew hesitated, then said, “You think Meredith would like to come?”

“I’ll ask her. I’m sure she would.”

“Come along about six o’clock. We’ll have time, and the women can get better acquainted.”