My taking the detective out to Sunnyside raised an unexpected storm of
protest from Gertrude and Halsey. I was not prepared for it, and I
scarcely knew how to account for it. To me Mr. Jamieson was far less
formidable under my eyes where I knew what he was doing, than he was of
in the city, twisting circumstances and motives to suit himself and
learning what he wished to know, about events at Sunnyside, in some
occult way. I was glad enough to have him there, when excitements
began to come thick and fast.
A new element was about to enter into affairs: Monday, or Tuesday at
the latest, would find Doctor Walker back in his green and white house
in the village, and Louise's attitude to him in the immediate future
would signify Halsey's happiness or wretchedness, as it might turn out.
Then, too, the return of her mother would mean, of course, that she
would have to leave us, and I had become greatly attached to her.
From the day Mr. Jamieson came to Sunnyside there was a subtle change
in Gertrude's manner to me. It was elusive, difficult to analyze, but
it was there. She was no longer frank with me, although I think her
affection never wavered. At the time I laid the change to the fact
that I had forbidden all communication with John Bailey, and had
refused to acknowledge any engagement between the two. Gertrude spent
much of her time wandering through the grounds, or taking long
cross-country walks. Halsey played golf at the Country Club day after
day, and after Louise left, as she did the following week, Mr. Jamieson
and I were much together. He played a fair game of cribbage, but he
cheated at solitaire.
The night the detective arrived, Saturday, I had a talk with him.
I told him of the experience Louise Armstrong had had the night before,
on the circular staircase, and about the man who had so frightened
Rosie on the drive. I saw that he thought the information was
important, and to my suggestion that we put an additional lock on the
east wing door he opposed a strong negative.
"I think it probable," he said, "that our visitor will be back again,
and the thing to do is to leave things exactly as they are, to avoid
rousing suspicion. Then I can watch for at least a part of each night
and probably Mr. Innes will help us out. I would say as little to
Thomas as possible. The old man knows more than he is willing to
admit."
I suggested that Alex, the gardener, would probably be willing to help,
and Mr. Jamieson undertook to make the arrangement. For one night,
however, Mr. Jamieson preferred to watch alone. Apparently nothing
occurred. The detective sat in absolute darkness on the lower step of
the stairs, dozing, he said afterwards, now and then. Nothing could
pass him in either direction, and the door in the morning remained as
securely fastened as it had been the night before. And yet one of the
most inexplicable occurrences of the whole affair took place that very
night.