The Circular Staircase - Page 16/154

"Where is Halsey?" he asked.

"Halsey!" Suddenly Gertrude's stricken face rose before me the empty

rooms up-stairs. Where was Halsey?

"He was here, wasn't he?" Mr. Jarvis persisted. "He stopped at the

club on his way over."

"I--don't know where he is," I said feebly.

One of the men from the club came in, asked for the telephone, and I

could hear him excitedly talking, saying something about coroners and

detectives. Mr. Jarvis leaned over to me.

"Why don't you trust me, Miss Innes?" he said. "If I can do anything I

will. But tell me the whole thing."

I did, finally, from the beginning, and when I told of Jack Bailey's

being in the house that night, he gave a long whistle.

"I wish they were both here," he said when I finished. "Whatever mad

prank took them away, it would look better if they were here.

Especially--"

"Especially what?"

"Especially since Jack Bailey and Arnold Armstrong were notoriously bad

friends. It was Bailey who got Arnold into trouble last

spring--something about the bank. And then, too--"

"Go on," I said. "If there is anything more, I ought to know."

"There's nothing more," he said evasively. "There's just one thing we

may bank on, Miss Innes. Any court in the country will acquit a man

who kills an intruder in his house, at night. If Halsey--"

"Why, you don't think Halsey did it!" I exclaimed. There was a queer

feeling of physical nausea coming over me.

"No, no, not at all," he said with forced cheerfulness. "Come, Miss

Innes, you're a ghost of yourself and I am going to help you up-stairs

and call your maid. This has been too much for you."

Liddy helped me back to bed, and under the impression that I was in

danger of freezing to death, put a hot-water bottle over my heart and

another at my feet. Then she left me. It was early dawn now, and from

voices under my window I surmised that Mr. Jarvis and his companions

were searching the grounds. As for me, I lay in bed, with every

faculty awake. Where had Halsey gone? How had he gone, and when?

Before the murder, no doubt, but who would believe that? If either he

or Jack Bailey had heard an intruder in the house and shot him--as they

might have been justified in doing--why had they run away? The whole

thing was unheard of, outrageous, and--impossible to ignore.

About six o'clock Gertrude came in. She was fully dressed, and I sat

up nervously.

"Poor Aunty!" she said. "What a shocking night you have had!" She came

over and sat down on the bed, and I saw she looked very tired and worn.

"Is there anything new?" I asked anxiously.

"Nothing. The car is gone, but Warner"--he is the chauffeur--"Warner

is at the lodge and knows nothing about it."