Five Fatal Words Read online

The butler came out and bent over her. "Mr. Cornwall is in there." The man's voice was husky. "He's fallen."

  "He's dead, you mean," whispered Miss Cornwall. "I know."

  "We should have a doctor, ma'am."

  "Yes," said Miss Cornwall, rousing. "Get a doctor. Melicent, call Dr. Brook in Williamsborough. Have him hurry--hurry--hurry--"

  Her voice failed and trailed off, as though she knew in her heart it was no use.

  "Shall I leave you?" asked Melicent.

  "Quick! Then come back."

  Melicent ran into Miss Cornwall's room and to the phone at which she had overheard the five words of the strange, meaningless message. Dr. Brook's phone number was on a pad beside the instrument. He was in his office and, told of the emergency, he was coming instantly.

  Melicent ran back to Miss Cornwall, who was on her feet and had looked in past the broken-down door. "No use; no use," she was saying. "He is dead, but how--how?

  How did they kill him--in there? He was alone; the door bolted. We saw how it was bolted. The window--no one could get through the window. He was alone."

  "He slipped, ma'am," repeated Hardy. "Looks like he slipped."

  "Idiot!" glared Miss Cornwall at the big, slow-witted man, and then she gathered possession of herself. "Of course he slipped, or his heart failed. He was alone; alone!

  Melicent, go down and see that no one leaves the house; no one outside leaves the grounds. No one! on any pretext. Go! Hardy, stay here; Melicent, go!"

  Melicent ran down to the knot of servants gathered at the foot of the stairs as the alarm had spread. "Mr. Cornwall fell--or fainted," she announced. "Send up Dr. Brook at once when he comes; no one leaves the house."

  She went to the door and looked about; far away beyond the lawn she saw Granger's tall figure and she thought for a moment of sending for him, but she did not.

  She knew in her heart, as had Miss Cornwall, that more help would be of no use. Instead, she spoke to a maid: "Go out and tell Mr. Granger there has been an accident and see that no one leaves the grounds. Then return to the house."

  Melicent herself reascended the stairs and sat beside Miss Cornwall in her brother's room with their backs to the broken-down door.

  The doctor came in fifteen minutes. In that time Melicent felt she had lived an eternity and that she had examined her soul as if on the day of judgment. The tragedy, if it was to be a tragedy, had shaken her into an acute consciousness of her situation. By the simple and apparently harmless business of answering an advertisement, she had thrown herself into the midst of an amazing situation. She had become part of a household where every hour the specter of horror was approaching and becoming more visible. Her job as secretary to an eccentric old lady had put her in contact with human motives, the reality of which she had never tried to conceive.

  Melicent had had no contact with violent death during her short years. Double tragedy in her own family had fallen into the category of human affairs which men call natural and it had taken place when she was very young. Here was something else. She was surprised to see how cool she could be. She was astonished to find herself wondering if in this dire circumstance she could not be of real assistance. She could still think and her mind told her that, by the very virtue of the fact that she was an outsider, she might make herself invaluable in the days and nights that lay ahead--days and nights that now seemed pregnant with disaster.

  The doctor came and she let him in the door, conscious that the curious servants were secretly watching every move now made in the house. She escorted the doctor to Everitt Cornwall's room and waited with Miss Cornwall while the physician made his examination.

  It was brief and definite; there was no doubt whatever that Everitt Cornwall was dead and had died suddenly. Dr. Brook made his report briefly and as kindly as possible to Hannah Cornwall.

  "He died," asked Miss Cornwall, "Of natural causes?"

  "That is impossible yet to say."

  "What do you think?"

  "I think he died from external causes."

  "But he was alone! Absolutely and completely alone. The door was bolted. I was present when it was broken down. No one could have got in the window; there is no other access to the bathroom."

  The physician opened his hand and exhibited in the palm a small spider beautifully shaped; it was of copper.

  "Do you know anything about that?" he asked.

  "Why should I know anything about that?"

  "It was in your brother's hand--tightly clasped."

  "You mean--he was poisoned by it?"

  "No, no," Brook hastily reassured her. "It is metal--copper; and there is no receptacle for poison in it. I have examined it very carefully. It is merely a copper spider which I found clasped in your brother's right hand--but the palm about it was scorched."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "I mean, Miss Cornwall, that I think your brother was electrocuted. Above the bath is a lighting fixture which seems to me somewhat defective. The lighting current is not ordinarily powerful enough to kill a person, because usually only a part of the shock is received. When one is standing in water, however, one becomes perfectly 'grounded' if he touches a defective electrical connection. Such condition seemed to exist when your brother was stepping into the bath. As I see it, he had this little copper object in his hand and touched with it the lighting fixture. He got all the shock; he was not young; it instantly killed him."

  "But why would he have that spider in his hand when stepping into the bath?"

  "I do not know, but I have lived long enough to know that different people carry about with them, and even into a bath, strange amulets and charms. Perhaps this was for him a charm. Where is his valet?"

  "Why do you want his valet?"

  "He might know about this, Miss Cornwall."

  "His valet is not here. My brother left him elsewhere. He knew it is my custom to supply servants for my guests. I do not like outside servants among mine."

  "Yes," nodded Brook, "I know that." He turned to Melicent. "Perhaps you might take Miss Cornwall to her own room. You can do nothing more here. Under the circumstances, I must send at once for the coroner, who will undoubtedly want your testimony that Mr. Cornwall, when he died, was in the locked bathroom alone. There will be little other formality, I believe."

  In her own room, Hannah Cornwall sat staring. "Not a word of the messages; not a word; not a word!" she half commanded, half begged Melicent. "They can mean nothing; he was in that little room alone--we know he was alone. No one could have harmed him!"

  "Yes, Miss Cornwall."

  "See that the servants go about their duties as if nothing had happened; they are not to talk. No one is to talk!" Melicent went downstairs, where she now found Granger.

  It was not necessary to ask him a question.

  "He's dead, I hear."

  "Yes."

  "Electrocuted?"

  "Yes. He must have stood up in the bath tub to turn off the lights and that gave him the shock that killed him."

  "It happens. It's terribly dangerous to touch electric lights when you're in a bath tub. You're so well grounded."

  She paid no attention to that technical aspect of the death of Everitt Cornwall. Her mind was occupied by too many other matters.

  "There was one thing--"

  "What do you mean--one thing?" he asked.

  "A funny thing."

  "Funny?"

  Melicent assented with a slow nod. "The doctor found clutched in Everitt Cornwall's hand a copper spider. And the hand that held it was burned."

  "A copper spider? What do you mean?"

  "Just that. A little metal spider less than an inch long. It looked like a watch charm. The kind they used to wear years ago. Odd. It's all so dreadful--"

  There was a warm sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry for you, Miss Waring. It's a strange household--" He hesitated. "How is Miss Cornwall taking it?"

  "I must return to her," Melicent said.

  She went upstairs. Hannah Co
rnwall unlocked the door of her room and let Melicent enter. The old lady's face was pasty. Her eyes had a frantic, hunted look.

  "Lock that door behind you." She spoke now in an excited tone.

  Melicent locked the door. Miss Cornwall lay down on the bed and for a long time she made no motion other than a continuous trembling.

  Finally she spoke. "What do you think about the copper spider that was in Everitt's hand?"

  "I can't think," confessed Melicent.

  "Must have been some sort of amulet he wore. But the connection was made by it.

  He must have touched the light with it first." The old lady shuddered. Melicent waited for her to continue.

  "I've sent for Mr. Reece," Miss Cornwall murmured. "And there will be the coroner, of course."

  "What can I do?"

  "Just sit here by me--for the present. I'm almost out of my mind. Everitt's death will be a great sorrow to all of us."

  Melicent knew that she was not cold-hearted, but only accepting an obvious fact when she considered that Miss Cornwall's shock was due more to fear for herself than to grief over her brother. Grief made people weep, but it did not make them shake and shudder.

  When some one knocked on the door Miss Cornwall fairly leaped from the bed.

  Her voice broke when she called, "Who is it?"

  "Dr. Brook."

  "Oh!" There was a welter of relief in the syllable. "Let him in, Miss Waring."

  The doctor was brief. "I'm going now. The coroner and the undertaker are here."

  "Thank you, Dr. Brook."

  "The verdict of the coroner undoubtedly will be that your brother touched the light fixture with the copper spider which he must have been holding in his hand. The voltage and the ground furnished by the water and tub combined to electrocute him. The coroner has examined the room and talked with Hardy and is satisfied as to what happened. However, he must ask you and Miss Waring some merely formal questions."

  "Yes," Miss Cornwall whispered.

  Brook brought in the coroner, who made his questions as brief as possible. Then he and the doctor were gone and the body of Everitt Cornwall was taken from the house.

  For a long time Hannah Cornwall lay on the bed without a word. At last Melicent heard her repeat quietly, "Don't ever alter these horoscopes."

  It was mid-afternoon when Miss Cornwall asked her to depart. "I'd like to be alone. And I think--I think I am all right here."

  When Melicent reached the hall the front door opened, although there had been neither a ring nor a knock. Simultaneously she saw a man in the doorway and behind him, in the drive outside, a long, low yellow colored roadster. The man saw her at the same time, dropped a heavy suitcase which he was carrying, and exclaimed quickly, "By all my holy ancestors and the holy ancestors of their holy ancestors! Who are you?" At the same time he closed the door.

  Closing the door shut out the bright light of day and she could perceive more than a silhouette of the intruder. He was tall and lean and red-headed. He had blue eyes and big hands. But the most unusual feature about him was that he was tanned a dark brown, a condition so uncommon in red-headed people that it startled Melicent. She did not answer at once and he occupied the interlude by grinning. He had a jaw that jutted out above his collar and if his grin had not been so ample one might have thought he was a person of not only great determination but of extreme severity of character.

  "Who are you?" he repeated.

  Melicent wondered for a moment if this was the Prof. Coleman of whom Miss Cornwall had spoken and then she knew who it was. She knew because the clarity and aspect of his eyes and the roundness of his forehead reminded her vaguely of Everitt Cornwall, and because the chin was the same indomitable chin that distinguished the features of her employer. She did not answer his question. Instead she said, "You're Donald Cornwall."

  He gave his head an immense nod. "Excellent. I am Donald Cornwall. Who are you, may I repeat?"

  "I am your aunt's secretary."

  He came a step closer to her, as if she were a small and distant object requiring close scrutiny. "Have you a name?"

  "Yes," Melicent answered. She did not tell him her name, however. His manner was so self-assured, so domineering, that she was instantly piqued by it. He seemed to understand the reason for her refusal to give her name; he bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Auntie--Hey!"

  At that moment the new butler came and inquired somewhat awkwardly if the doorbell had been rung. He was apologetic for his failure to appear and reassured when he learned that it was not his fault. He began to carry Donald's luggage upstairs when Miss Cornwall arrived.

  She had obviously been agitated by the voices in the hall, but Donald, seeing her at the head of the stairs, hailed her. "Hello, auntie? Just your little Donald popping in.

  Tell Hawkins, or Hopkins, or Hastings, or whatever his name is, where to put my duffle."

  Miss Cornwall did so, as the butler passed her on the stairs and she joined them in the hall. She took her nephew's hand. "Donald! I--"

  He interrupted her: "I drove up from New York. I came in from France last week."

  His aunt was leading them all toward the living room downstairs. She spoke from what must have been a confusion of thoughts. "Why didn't you come here immediately?"

  "There were some little things I wanted to do first."

  "Oh!"

  "One was buying an automobile. Down where father and I lived there weren't

  "many good roads and they weren't very long. We had an old Ford, that's all. I haven't driven a car since I was at school in France and England, but the one I have outside is a beaut. I suppose it's an extravagance for a poor relation of the Cornwall family, but anyway there it is. By the way, I'd like to have your permission to take Miss Waring out in it any and every night--"

  "Donald!"

  Miss Cornwall's intonation was one of deep reproach.

  "Yes, Aunt Hannah?"

  Miss Cornwall looked at Melicent for an instant. "Didn't you tell him?"

  She shook her head. "I was just going to when you came down."

  "Tell me what?" Donald Cornwall had caught the note in the voices of the two women.

  "Your Uncle Everitt arrived here at noon to-day," she said. "He went upstairs to take a bath just now and he was electrocuted when he reached up to turn off the lights."

  "What!" Melicent watched the young man closely. Every vestige of his glib good nature--good nature that had been gruesome under the circumstances--deserted him. His color fled. The tan on his face became a sallow and unhealthy shade.

  "Your uncle is dead." Donald Cornwall came closer to his aunt. "Did you get my letter?"

  She frowned at him in caution. He glanced at Melicent and then took Miss Cornwall's ann. "Come upstairs with me, auntie, and tell me about it."

  Melicent did not see Donald Cornwall until much later in the day. She waited in an agony of apprehension for some one to send for her, but apparently Miss Cornwall and her nephew had forgotten that she was in the house.

  She did not know just what time it was when Mr. Reece arrived. He drove up in a huge car that skidded to a stop at the door and she answered his ring before Hardy could come from the kitchen.

  Mr. Reece was calm. He spoke quietly to her and told Hardy when he appeared to inform Miss Cornwall of his arrival. Meanwhile he talked to Melicent.

  "When did it happen?"

  "After noon."

  "And how?"

  "I don't understand it exactly," she said. "But he was taking a bath. He reached up to turn out the lights and got a shock which killed him."

  "I see."

  "He apparently had some sort of an ornament in his hand because they found him still clutching it--and it had burned his fingers."

  "What was it?"

  "A spider made of copper."

  She could see that this small, gruesome detail shocked him as it had her. But his only voluntary response was a nod. "You're all right, Miss Waring?"

  "Yes. "


  "Granger's about, I suppose?"

  "Yes. In the garage, I think."

  "I'll see him later." He paused. "I had an expectation that you would be subjected to this sort of—ah--accident, Miss Waring. Forty years and nothing happened. Forty years--and now--I'm very sorry. But one thing I'd intended to tell you was that if the eccentricities of the Cornwall family ever become hard to bear, you may have confidence in Granger. I--" She had a momentary impression that he was going to add something to those words, but he did not say the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

  Instead, she could see him making the mental gesture of compromise. "What I mean is that I have investigated everyone in Miss Cornwall's employment and the facts I have found about Granger are especially to his credit."

  "I see." Melicent remembered the arrival of Donald Cornwall. "Did you know that Miss Cornwall's nephew had arrived since the accident?"

  "No! Which nephew?"

  "Donald. "

  "That's Daniel's son. When did he come?"

  "Right after--right after--"

  "I see."

  Melicent thought a moment. "He's with his aunt now."

  Mr. Reece nodded vacantly and went upstairs.

  Much later Donald Cornwall descended and found her. He was grave and polite.

  "I'm sorry about my rude entrance this afternoon. I had no idea--"

  "It's all right."

  "I was wondering if you'd care to come and have a little something to eat. I know the state your emotions must be in, but you'd be better if you ate something--"

  "Well--"

  He took her arm and led her toward the dining room. "Uncle Everitt never had a real home. He preferred to rough it all his life. He liked to live on ships and in hotels. I have talked to my aunt and his funeral will be at this house. I am trying to persuade my aunt to go away afterward and I think she may do so. If she did, you wouldn't have any objections to accompanying her, would you?"

  Melicent had not thought of that. She realized that she would be glad to leave the shadows of Blackcroft. She wondered if Donald Cornwall would also accompany his aunt. She said, "No. One of the conditions required to fill this position was that the person should have no ties and I have none."

  "I see." He drew out a chair at the dining room table and sat down beside her.