“What the devil!” Phalen exclaimed.
“This is much worse than I anticipated,” said Flix.
“I’ll say. A double homicide!”
“How far along do you think she is, Doc?” Flix asked.
“I’d say about 16 weeks.”
“So, now we have an added motive,” Flix mused on the ride home.
“Poor girl. No family, and when she finds herself in a family way, who could she turn to?”
“Our own Dr. Quintland, perhaps,” Flix answered.
“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. More likely, she’d turn to a friendly co-worker. Someone she saw as a mother figure, perhaps.”
“Or another girl her own age.”
“Yes. Blast it, Cupid. I surely did not see this coming.”
“Nor I. When we saw the body on the table, exposed and naked, I did not dream she was with child.”
“No,” Phalen said. “But it would be hard to tell, I mean with a big-boned girl like that.”
“Yes,” Flix said. “She could hide her pregnancy for awhile, yet. But, inevitably?”
“I know. And the evidence we’ve collected so far points to poison. But is not wanting a child reason enough to kill?”
“Men have killed for less,” Flix said.
“So, they have. So, they have.”
“But why strangle her?” Flix said. “That’s what I don’t get. She has all the signs of arsenic poisoning – horizontal lines on her fingernails, puffiness of the eyes, dusky patterns of discoloration on her skin. This whole case just doesn’t make any sense.
You and I are both veterans,” Flix said.
“Yes. The memories are atrocious. I rarely talk of my time in service.”
“I know what you mean,” Flix said, “I feel exactly the same way. But here is a thought, Phalen, as military men, we were trained to kill, were we not?
What if, and please bear with me, I am only speculating, dear friend, what if appetites were aroused during those unbearable days that must be fed during peace time?”
“I do not follow you, Cupid.”
“I am simply saying, what if an appetite for killing was turned on during the war, and now, during peace time, it has never been turned off?”
“A hunger for murder?” Phalen mused. “My god! I suppose it’s quite possible and horrifying to contemplate, but, if that is the case, then why isn’t the world littered with corpses during these few short years since the armistice was signed?”
“I do not know,” Flix said. “I may be totally wrong. I sincerely hope that I am.
What if a monster is roaming about who likes to destroy human life for the simple pleasure it gives him?”
“If you’re right,” Phalen said, “then monster is the correct term that would describe such an evil devil. But nobody in this high-priced hotel appears to be a raving, frothing-at-the-mouth lunatic.”
“I know,” said Flix. “This place houses the elite hypochondriacs who wish to escape from the real world, from the reality of the chaotic storm called Life, over which there is very little control. Here, with the aid of beautiful surroundings, one can forget the dirt, the grime, and the unpleasantness that is on every hand.
The estate is an escape. A place to hide. And I am as guilty as all the rest of the ‘guests’ here. My uncle’s money has afforded me the opportunity to retire in style and to concentrate and focus my energies on finishing my book on the White-lined Sphinx. But, I find I cannot escape my memories. Not even in these most beautiful surroundings.”
Phalen looked pained.
“My friend, you look as if you have just swallowed one of my beloved moths.”
“There’s something we are missing. Some piece of the puzzle that I can’t quite figure out. It’s floating around in my brain, like a word I am searching for that seems to be on the very tip of my tongue.
This case is most perplexing, Cupid,” Phalen went on. “We have evidence of an obvious murder, as proven by the bruising to her neck. But why? She was merely a maid. And, as far as I can deduce, a young woman with no enemies.”
“Since no obvious pattern was left on her neck, such as hand prints or rope marks, I’d make an educated guess that murderer strangled her with something cloth, silken perhaps, like a scarf or a necktie,” said Flix.
“I agree. But, she also appears to have poisoned, too.”
“But, Phalen, why go to all the trouble of poisoning someone, only to quickly end her life in the boathouse?
I go back to the same old questions.
Was the poison not working quickly enough to suit our murderer?
Do we have two killers, one who had yet to be successful and one who was?
“I believe that scrap of paper Doc found in her fist sealed her fate.”
“Umm. Blackmail? Perhaps.
I must say, Doc’s methods of breaking her fingers to retrieve that clue were shocking,” Flix said, shaking his head in disbelief.”
“Shocking, but necessary,” Phalen said. “Behind that crude façade of a country bumpkin is a very intelligent medical practitioner. I will admit, I was fooled into thinking that Quintland had sent our victim to a yokel and a quack, but when he noted that her fingers would never loosen, he was correct.
I’ve been told by city coroners that the grip loosens only upon the final stages of purification when decay allows the fingers to relax.”
“Death grip.”
“Precisely. Happens with traumatic death. And we are lucky it did, Cupid. The killer could not have pried that scrap of paper from her fingers, even if he had wished.”
Flix looked at the crumpled piece of paper in his hands.
“And there were no other signs of a struggle,” Flix said. “No torn clothing. No scratches or other bruising. She didn’t fight her attacker off. That suggests that she knew her killer, or I imagine, that the murderer caught her unaware.”
“And although she was young, her corpse suggests she was not well.”
“Again,” Flix said, “I keep coming back to why kill her, if she already has two feet in the grave?
She is being poisoned. She is pregnant.
Did the killer know she was with child?
Is the killer the father of the child?
She is a maid. Even if the killer is one of the guests, there are ways to rid women of unwanted babies. Back alley abortions are performed all the time.
And why poison?”
“This scrap of paper has to be the motive,” Phalen said. “It is a cipher of some kind, but what does it mean?”
“We will both make copies and try to solve this riddle.”
“Yes. I think that is wise.”
They were silent for a bit.
“I wish it was easier to spot murderers, Phalen.”
“As do I. People would be astounded, and frightened, to learn how many murderers get off scot free.
First off, they don’t wear signs saying, ‘I am a cold-blooded killer.’
They blend in with the rest of us.
We’d never guess in a million years that average-looking Joe has just knocked off somebody. With some people, killing seems to be as easy as eating pie. They move amongst us like other ‘normal’ people, and we rub shoulders with them, never guessing their horrible secrets.
Then, there’s the problem of witnesses.
Nobody saw or will come out and say they saw Average Joe stick the knife into the victim or shoot him or whatever. People do not want to get involved.
And fear is often stronger than a steel bear trap.
And lastly, there’s the evidence.
A lot of times, it just isn’t there. Or it’s there and is destroyed or overlooked. Without the evidence, I may know in my gut Average Joe is the killer, but knowing something, and proving it are entirely two different things.”
“What you say is true, Phalen. So many homicides are not deep mysteries. But proving who did it can be impossible. Happened to me many times as a Pinkerton.”
“And Cupid, thanks again for all your help. You will never know how glad I was to see your face that day in that room at Beastly House.”
“That’s such an odd name,” Flix said. “Beastly House.
The mansion is strange and exotic, but, I wouldn’t say there is anything beastly about it. In fact, I like it. I find it enchanting. While not your ordinary run-of-the-mill mansion, it grows on you, you know.”
“Yeah. I do understand,” Phalen said. “I remember driving up that first morning and feeling like I’d stepped into another world.”
“It is another world. Or at least, Leigh’s vision of it. But, so much has changed since his passing,” Flix said.
He sat quietly brooding for a time.
“I wonder what will happen to the place,” Flix murmured.
“Probably, what happens to most white elephants when their time has passed,” said Phalen.
“It is sad to speculate. This house has had quite a history. Two very wealthy people, falling madly in love in their twilight years, both embracing their dreams to create a magical island of serenity in a sea of confusion, only to see their dreams end as quickly as they were conceived.”
“I’ve heard stories,” Phalen said. “Leigh and his wife were famous for throwing extravagant parties, the likes of which will never be seen again.
Can you imagine just what kind of shenanigans went on inside those magnificent walls?” Flix asked.
“No. And I don’t think I wish to. A manor house left to drunken socialites. It is absurd.”
“It’s a shame,” Flix said. “The party only lasted a decade. The old man dying off like that quickly put an end to the fun. Dignitaries, heads of states, even presidents were guests of the Leighs.
Beastly House is a magnificent showpiece, Phalen.
But, like everything else, after you see your dream fulfilled, you must keep paying and paying to keep it alive. A dream on the scale of Beastly House would easily empty the coffers of Croesus faster than a candle dies when it burns at both ends.”
“Yes,” Phalen said. “You’re right. The upkeep for that house is unimaginable! The expense of the staff. The guests. Those gardens and greenhouses alone must have taken a bushel of cabbage to keep them in top shape.”
“The expense would eat up any fortune like cancer,” Flix said. “I have heard rumors of over a million dollars a year just to keep the cobwebs at bay and the grounds beautiful.”
“My word! I would never have dreamed it was that much.”
“Yes,” Flix said. “When you build such extravagance on a monumental scale, it takes a mountain of money to keep it polished and shiny.”
“No wonder his widow had to put the property up for sale.”
“Yes,” Flix said. “It is a pity. Leigh was brilliant with money. He came from nothing and, over time, worked his way up to partner at one to the premier financial houses on Wall Street.”
“Making money with money. That is the American way!”
“But I hear that Leigh left his widow with barely enough to take up residence in their estate in Georgia,” Flix said. “No one can figure out just how a man worth so much could have depleted his resources so quickly. Gone in a little over a decade.”
“Well, it was his money to spend as he wished, I guess.”
“What about their daughter?” Flix asked.
“Oh, that was his wife’s child by her first marriage. Mr. Leigh had no children.”
“I see. Pity,” Flix said. “A son might have taken the reins of the estate and kept it in the family.”
“I doubt it. Well, perhaps if he were some kind of magician. You have to have oats in the bin if the horse is going to thrive through winter.”
“You’re right,” Flix said.
“But, how on earth can Quintland keep such a gargantuan estate running as a sanitarium for the wealthy? I mean, from the short time I’ve been here, this place must be running at only a tenth of capacity.”
“He can’t,” Flix said. “Not the way the tides are shifting. Think about it, the eighteenth amendment makes alcoholic beverage consumption illegal. The country is weary of war. Although we were not in the conflict as long as our European neighbors, we suffered greatly.
Americans are ready to remove the temptation from the sinner, and without the sin, the sinner becomes the saint. Well, something along that line. The logic escapes me, but Americans are ready to throw out the baby with the bath water.
Places like this are not going to be allowed to operate for long. Mark my words. The opinions of the general public are shifting. Why throw good money down the drain for such treatments as are given here to rich neurotics, when so many of our young war heroes are suffering?
That is why it was imperative for me to gain access to the greenhouses. Even if I gained access to them by presenting myself in a less than honest light.
I feigned a malady to get the chance to see the wonders in Leigh’s greenhouses. And, it’s been worth the small measure of guilt I suffer about lying to get into the sanitarium. That one little lie gained me entrance into a lost Eden.”
“Well,” Phalen said, “I for one cannot get excited about exotic vegetation. That’s your waltz, not mine. But I do think you’re right, Cupid, about the feasibility of operating a place like this. I think these grand estates are doomed to extinction, eventually.
“Beastly House will be no exception, I fear,” Flix said. “And now, especially, with the scandal of murder at his doorstep, Quintland may be forced to close this place down much sooner than expected.”
“Who would buy it?” Phalen asked.
“I don’t know. Perhaps, some other titan of industry, but I think not. This was their dream, Leigh’s and his wife. They built this place for parties and for show. If someone else comes along with a bank account that fat, I am sure he will build his own monument to himself rather than buy someone else’s hand-me-downs.”
“You’re probably right,” Phalen said. “Nothing says ‘big me, little you’ like a brand new palace plunked down on hundreds of acres of land.”
“Ah, yes. Nothing at all. Though you and I will never have such an experience.”
“You, perhaps. But me, never. Not on my salary!” Phalen said.
“I suppose this will all crumble and go back to nature if Quintland is forced to close.”
“It is the way of the world, Cupid. The way of the world.”