The Red House Mystery (18 page)

"Never."

"No. And you can bet that Cayley knows that. Anyway, he'd bang on it,
and you wouldn't answer, and then what would he think?"

Bill was silent; crushed.

"Then I don't see how we're going to do it," he said, after deep
thought. "He'll obviously come to us just before he starts out, and that
doesn't give us time to get to the pond in front of him."

"Let's put ourselves in his place," said Antony, puffing slowly at his
pipe. "He's got the body, or whatever it is, in the passage. He won't
come up the stairs, carrying it in his arms, and look in at our doors to
see if we're awake. He'll have to make sure about us first, and then go
down for the body afterwards. So that gives us a little time."

"Y-yes," said Bill doubtfully. "We might just do it, but it'll be a bit
of a rush."

"But wait. When he's gone down to the passage and got the body, what
will he do next?"

"Come out again," said Bill helpfully.

"Yes; but which end?"

Bill sat up with a start.

"By Jove, you mean that he will go out at the far end by the
bowling-green?"

"Don't you think so? Just imagine him walking across the lawn in full
view of the house, at midnight, with a body in his arms. Think of
the awful feeling he would have in the back of the neck, wondering if
anybody, any restless sleeper, had chosen just that moment to wander
to the window and look out into the night. There's still plenty of
moonlight, Bill. Is he going to walk across the park in the moonlight,
with all those windows staring at him? Not if he can help it. But he
can get out by the bowling green, and then come to the pond without ever
being in sight of the house, at all."

"You're right. And that will just about give us time. Good. Now, what's
the next thing?"

"The next thing is to mark the exact place in the pond where he drops
whatever he drops."

"So that we can fish it out again."

"If we can see what it is, we shan't want to. The police can have a
go at it to-morrow. But if it's something we can't identify from a
distance, then we must try and get it out. To see whether it's worth
telling the police about."

"Y-yes," said Bill, wrinkling his forehead. "Of course, the trouble with
water is that one bit of it looks pretty much like the next bit. I don't
know if that had occurred to you.

"It had," smiled Antony. "Let's come and have a look at it."

They walked to the edge of the copse, and lay down there in silence,
looking at the pond beneath them.

"See anything?" said Antony at last.

"What?"

"The fence on the other side."

"What about it?"

"Well, it's rather useful, that's all."

"Said Sherlock Holmes enigmatically," added Bill. "A moment later, his
friend Watson had hurled him into the pond."

Antony laughed.

"I love being Sherlocky," he said. "It's very unfair of you not to play
up to me."

"Why is that fence useful, my dear Holmes?" said Bill obediently.

"Because you can take a bearing on it. You see—"

"Yes, you needn't stop to explain to me what a bearing is."

"I wasn't going to. But you're lying here," he looked up "underneath
this pine-tree. Cayley comes out in the old boat and drops his parcel
in. You take a line from here on to the boat, and mark it off on the
fence there. Say it's the fifth post from the end. Well, then I take a
line from my tree we'll find one for me directly and it comes on to
the twentieth post, say. And where the two lines meet, there shall
the eagles be gathered together. Q.E.D. And there, I almost forgot to
remark, will the taller eagle, Beverley by name, do his famous diving
act. As performed nightly at the Hippodrome."

Bill looked at him uneasily.

"I say, really? It's beastly dirty water, you know."

"I'm afraid so, Bill. So it is written in the book of Jasher."

"Of course I knew that one of us would have to, but I hoped, well, it's
a warm night."

"Just the night for a bathe," agreed Antony, getting up. "Well now,
let's have a look for my tree."

They walked down to the margin of the pond and then looked back. Bill's
tree stood up and took the evening, tall and unmistakable, fifty feet
nearer to heaven than its neighbours. But it had its fellow at the other
end of the copse, not quite so tall, perhaps, but equally conspicuous.

"That's where I shall be," said Antony, pointing to it. "Now, for the
Lord's sake, count your posts accurately."

"Thanks very much, but I shall do it for my own sake," said Bill with
feeling. "I don't want to spend the whole night diving."

"Fix on the post in a straight line with you and the splash, and then
count backwards to the beginning of the fence."

"Right, old boy. Leave it to me. I can do this on my head."

"Well, that's how you will have to do the last part of it," said Antony
with a smile.

He looked at his watch. It was nearly time to change for dinner. They
started to walk back to the house together.

"There's one thing which worries me rather," said Antony. "Where does
Cayley sleep?"

"Next door to me. Why?"

"Well, it's just possible that he might have another look at you after
he's come back from the pond. I don't think he'd bother about it in the
ordinary way, but if he is actually passing your door, I think he might
glance in."

"I shan't be there. I shall be at the bottom of the pond, sucking up
mud."

"Yes.... Do you think you could leave something in your bed that looked
vaguely like you in the dark? A bolster with a pyjama-coat round it, and
one arm outside the blanket, and a pair of socks or something for the
head. You know the kind of thing. I think it would please him to feel
that you were still sleeping peacefully."

Bill chuckled to himself.

"Rather. I'm awfully good at that. I'll make him up something really
good. But what about you?"

"I'm at the other end of the house; he's hardly likely to bother about
me a second time. And I shall be so very fast asleep at his first visit.
Still, I may as well to be on the safe side."

They went into the house. Cayley was in the hall as they came in. He
nodded, and took out his watch.

"Time to change?" he said.

"Just about," said Bill.

"You didn't forget my letter?"

"I did not. In fact, we had tea there."

"Ah!" He looked away and said carelessly, "How were they all?"

"They sent all sorts of sympathetic messages to you, and—and all that
sort of thing."

"Oh, yes."

Bill waited for him to say something more, and then, as nothing
was coming, he turned round, said, "Come on, Tony," and led the way
upstairs.

"Got all you want?" he said at the top of the stairs.

"I think so. Come and see me before you go down."

"Righto."

Antony shut his bedroom door behind him and walked over to the window.
He pushed open a casement and looked out. His bedroom was just over
the door at the back of the house. The side wall of the office, which
projected out into the lawn beyond the rest of the house, was on his
left. He could step out on to the top of the door, and from there drop
easily to the ground. Getting back would be little more difficult. There
was a convenient water-pipe which would help.

He had just finished his dressing when Bill came in. "Final
instructions?" he asked, sitting down on the bed. "By the way, how are
we amusing ourselves after dinner? I mean immediately after dinner."

"Billiards?"

"Righto. Anything you like."

"Don't talk too loud," said Antony in a lower voice. "We're more or less
over the hall, and Cayley may be there." He led the way to the window.
"We'll go out this way to-night. Going downstairs is too risky. It's
easy enough; better put on tennis-shoes."

"Right. I say, in case I don't get another chance alone with you what do
I do when Cayley comes to tuck me up?"

"It's difficult to say. Be as natural as you can. I mean, if he just
knocks lightly and looks in, be asleep. Don't overdo the snoring. But
if he makes a hell of a noise, you'll have to wake up and rub your eyes,
and wonder what on earth he's doing in your room at all. You know the
sort of thing."

"Right. And about the dummy figure. I'll make it up directly we come
upstairs, and hide it under the bed."

"Yes.... I think we'd better go completely to bed ourselves. We shan't
take a moment dressing again, and it will give him time to get safely
into the passage. Then come into my room."

"Right.... Are you ready?"

"Yes."

They went downstairs together.

Cayley seemed very fond of them that night. After dinner was over, he
suggested a stroll outside. They walked up and down the gravel in front
of the house, saying very little to each other, until Bill could
stand it no longer. For the last twenty turns he had been slowing down
hopefully each time they came to the door, but the hint had always been
lost on his companions, and each time another turn had been taken. But
in the end he had been firm.

"What about a little billiards?" he said, shaking himself free from the
others.

"Will you play?" said Antony to Cayley.

"I'll watch you," he said, and he had watched them resolutely until the
game, and then another game after that; had been played.

They went into the hall and attacked the drinks.

"Well, thank heaven for bed," said Bill; putting down his glass. "Are
you coming?"

"Yes," said Antony, and finished his drink. He looked at Cayley.

"I've just got one or two little things to do," said Cayley. "I shan't
be long following you."

"Well, good night, then."

"Good night."

"Good night," called Bill from half-way up the stairs. "Good night,
Tony."

"Good night."

Bill looked at his watch. Half-past eleven. Not much chance of anything
happening for another hour. He pulled open a drawer and wondered what
to wear on their expedition. Grey flannel trousers, flannel shirt, and
a dark coat; perhaps a sweater, as they might be lying out in the copse
for some time. And good idea a towel. He would want it later on, and
meanwhile he could wear it round his waist.

Tennis-shoes.... There Everything was ready. Now then for the dummy
figure.

He looked at his watch again before getting into bed. Twelve-fifteen.
How long to wait before Cayley came up? He turned out the light, and
then, standing by the door in his pyjamas, waited for his eyes to become
accustomed to the new darkness.... He could only just make out the bed
in the corner of the room. Cayley would want more light than that if
he were to satisfy himself from the door that the bed was occupied. He
pulled the curtains a little way back. That was about right. He could
have another look later on, when he had the dummy figure in the bed.

How long would it be before Cayley came up? It wasn't that he wanted his
friends, Beverley and Gillingham, to be asleep before he started on his
business at the pond; all that he wanted was to be sure that they were
safely in their bedrooms. Cayley's business would make no noise, give
no sign, to attract the most wakeful member of the household, so long as
the household was really inside the house. But if he wished to reassure
himself about his guests, he would have to wait until they were far
enough on their way to sleep not to be disturbed by him as he came up
to reassure himself. So it amounted to the same thing, really. He would
wait until they were asleep.... until they were asleep.... asleep....

With a great effort Bill regained the mastery over his wandering
thoughts and came awake again. This would never do. It would be fatal if
he went to sleep.... if he went to sleep.... to sleep .... And then, in
an instant, he was intensely awake. Suppose Cayley never came at all!

Suppose Cayley was so unsuspicious that, as soon as they had gone
upstairs, he had dived down into the passage and set about his business.
Suppose, even now, he was at the pond, dropping into it that secret of
his. Good heavens, what fools they had been! How could Antony have taken
such a risk? Put yourself in Cayley's place, he had said. But how was
it possible? They weren't Cayley. Cayley was at the pond now. They would
never know what he had dropped into it.

Listen!.... Somebody at the door. He was asleep. Quite naturally now.
Breathe a little more loudly, perhaps. He was asleep.... The door was
opening. He could feel it opening behind him.... Good Lord, suppose
Cayley really was a murderer! Why, even now he might be—no, he mustn't
think of that. If he thought of that, he would have to turn round.
He mustn't turn round. He was asleep; just peacefully asleep. But why
didn't the door shut? Where was Cayley now? Just behind him? And in his
hand no, he mustn't think of that. He was asleep. But why didn't the
door shut?

The door was shutting. There was a sigh from the sleeper in the bed,
a sigh of relief which escaped him involuntarily. But it had a very
natural sound a deep breath from a heavy sleeper. He added another one
to it to make it seem more natural. The door was shut.

Bill counted a hundred slowly and then got up. As quickly and as
noiselessly as possible he dressed himself in the dark. He put the dummy
figure in the bed, arranged the clothes so that just enough but not
too much of it was showing, and stood by the door looking at it. For a
casual glance the room was just about light enough. Then very quietly,
very slowly he opened the door. All was still. There was no light from
beneath the door of Cayley's room. Very quietly, very carefully he crept
along the passage to Antony's room. He opened the door and went in.

Antony was still in bed. Bill walked across to wake him up, and then
stopped rigid, and his heart thumped against his ribs. There was
somebody else in the room.