Chocolate Cobweb Read online

  CHAPTER 26.

  THONE WENT DOWN THE STAIRS AS if he were sliding. On the lowest floor he checked himself. He opened the door to Mandy’s room, in hope, but one glance told him she was not there. He did not call to her. He knew, now, that wherever she was, she would not hear.

  He bellowed back up the core of the house, “Turn on the floodlights.” He ran down the hall to the door that led outside. He knew he must follow the way she had taken until he found her. He came out into darkness, but he had not gone far when the lights came on. Now he could search the whole lit slope with his eyes. If she had fallen anywhere in the gardens he should be able to see her from this highest shelf.

  He saw no trace of her. No human heap was lying among the leaves and flowers.

  Inside the garage, then. He cursed. He had no key. Then he remembered. The door was inside out. Because it was the door to his father’s fortress, it locked in the opposite way. From inside the wall, he would need no key. And the middle door was never locked. He slipped and fell and rolled, clutching at plants that would not hold his plunging weight.

  He sobbed, “Mandy,” because he could not help it.

  A man’s voice was shouting, beyond the wall. “Who is it? Who is it?”

  “Where’s Mandy?”

  “Mandy!” He heard blows on hollow wood. The noise bounced on the canyon walls. “Can’t—get—in.” He heard running feet and then kicking and scratching on the wall.

  He picked himself up and fell against the workshop door. It opened docilely. An odor poured out.

  And there she was.

  Gene had scrambled, somehow, over the wall and was shouting frantically beside him. Thone prayed out loud. “It’s not too late. It’s not too late.”

  She was quite limp in his arms. He felt tireless. Gene had no chance. Gene’s cries in his ears were meaningless. Alone, he carried her as if she weighed nothing, well away from that place, high up to a grassy spot where the air was pure. To Gene, who stumbled, cursing, after, he said curtly, “Shut up. Get a doctor.”

  “I’ve called a doctor,” said Fanny. She was there in her black satin, with her diamonds blazing.

  Thone knelt on the ground.

  “If she’s dead, I’ll kill you,” sobbed Gene Noyes.

  “But she isn’t,” said Thone.

  The time, which had seemed so long, had not been too long, after all.

  “Thone,” said Fanny gently, in a moment, in the silence that thickened and deepened after frantic sound, “your father has had a stroke.”

  He flung up his head. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said bitterly. He picked up Mandy, brushing the other man out of his way as he did so. He carried her slowly and carefully now, and gently, up toward the house. His body was suddenly a mass of aches and pains. His foot was aflame. One arm was torn and raw. But still her weight was nothing and the pain was good. Fiercely, he welcomed it.

  Fanny stared after them, at the redheaded boy, whose coat was torn, who was dodging ahead to open the way. At Thone’s tall figure, going steadily and somehow penitently upward. At the soft mop of Mandy’s hair on his right arm, the red skirt caught up in his left, her pretty feet dangling, one slipper lost. The old actress’s eyes were tortured. Her mouth curled and trembled. Her thin hand clawed at her throat.

  CHAPTER 27.

  SIRENS SCREAMED UP THE MOUNTAIN. The ambulance came, with oxygen. Soon El Kelly’s car came screaming and pelting after. At the back, lights blazed, forgotten, over the terraces. At the front, cars parked crookedly and curious folk came out of the hills and stood in the road.

  A little later came Kate Garth in her Chevrolet. Gene had gone to the telephone, saying angrily that he trusted no one of them in that place. So Kate came in, past the cop at the door, like a wind blowing under his chin. She came for her child.

  They had taken Tobias to his own bed. An intern from the ambulance was with him. A nurse was coming. He was not conscious. He did not, for now, need even the nurse. But Thone had insisted. Thone had lashed about him with command. So Tobias lay, unconscious and professionally attended, and there was nothing for Ione to do.

  Mandy lay on the couch in the studio with her eyes open. She’d had oxygen and intravenous infusions and injections and what not. She was covered warmly now. There was no hubbub. The room was hushed to reverent quiet. Kate’s panic and anger ran slam into this artificial peace.

  So she went quietly and put her strong hand over Mandy’s limp paws. A weak tear slid out of Mandy’s eye. Kate kissed her and hushed her and sat by. The doctor spoke in hushed tones to the mother. He was pleased, he said, with the action of the pulse. A fine strong girl. Kate said nothing, and although she drew her breath again more freely, her arm, braced back of Mandy’s body, was like iron.

  The canyon house was a hospital.

  Ione sat on the window seat, alone, silently. From time to time she put a dainty handkerchief to her lips and eyes.

  Fanny huddled in a chair and watched everything with brilliant, feverish eyes. Her hands twisted her bracelets, round and round.

  Thone sat, back bent in weary reaction, head in his hands. Gene had gone out of the room and walked restlessly up and down, up and down, noiselessly on the hall carpet.

  El Kelly talked with his men, with Gene, with Burt and Elsie, who came blinking into the strange hushed tumult. All these low voices hummed, softly, afar, in the dining room. Now and again there were feet on the stairs. Men prowled in the gardens. For a while the people in the road murmured. Then they drifted homeward.

  A little life crept back to the house. Mandy stirred and sat up a little higher. El Kelly came in from across the hall. “Feeling better, Miss Garth?”

  “Much, much better.”

  “I’d like to try to make a little sense out of this. How about it?” He looked to the doctor.

  “Quietly,” the doctor said. “No excitement.”

  Kelly ran his hand through his hair. “I’m going to need this girl. You tell me if she should talk now.”

  “Quietly,” the doctor said, frowning. He stood by.

  “I’ve been talking to young Noyes and the servants.” Kelly sat down, speaking conversationally. “My men have been looking around, one place and another. As far as I can see, this could have been an accident caused, in part, by the fact that you kids,” he coupled Thone and Amanda with his glance, “were all hot and bothered about a plot. The gas pipe down there is out of whack. The gardener tells me that he may have done that when he was digging at its point of entry outside, just today. All right. So, as I see it, you kids are all worked up. She—Amanda—goes down there, scared to death before she starts. Gets inside the door. Smells gas. Goes into a panic. The key comes off the case and gets kicked around. And so …” He shrugged.

  Mandy’s lips parted.

  “Don’t you talk yet,” El Kelly told her. “Lemme plow through some of the rest of this first. You listen and let nothing worry you. All that’s going to happen is, I’ll find out the truth.”

  The doctor said, “But she was drugged.”

  “Yeah?” El Kelly chewed some nonexistent gum. “Well, let’s see. Garrison, suppose you tell me what happened. Make it short.”

  “My stepmother tried to kill her.” Thone spoke through his fingers, hands still over his face. “She dosed Amanda’s drink with chloral.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw her do it. So I changed Amanda’s glass for mine. But my father changed them back.” His voice was quite monotonous. “I don’t know how she worked the rest of it.”

  From the window seat Ione gasped and straightened her back.

  “The motive?” asked Kelly calmly. “Why?”

  “Because she hated and murdered my mother,” said Thone, “six years ago. And she thought Amanda was my mother’s child.”

  “What made her think that?” Kelly’s brows went up in astonishment. Ione, on the window seat, did not move. Fanny was white-faced with shock.

  Kate said, in a moment, “Amanda
is my child.”

  “Everybody knew that,” Thone dropped his hands at last, “except Ione.” He didn’t look at her.

  Ione said, “No … no.” Her hands wrenched at the amethyst beads.

  Kelly didn’t look at her, either. “Cockeyed motive,” he mused. “So you think she fixed the doors. Locked the one. Left the other so it would open, I guess, huh, and then lock itself? How would she know the key would fall off?”

  “It wasn’t on,” said Amanda firmly. The doctor caught her wrist. She said no more.

  El Kelly looked startled. “Uh-huh,” he said. “So I’m changing my mind. We’ve got an attempted murder here. What do you know about it, Miss Austin?”

  Fanny said through chattering teeth, “I’ll tell you all I know. It’s the only way. What Thone says about his stepmother, I—I can’t speak about. I do know the girl tried to make herself out Belle’s child. It’s a funny story.” Her graceful hand turned at the wrist, despairing of telling that story now. “As for this evening, they were drinking Herbsaint. Belle’s drink. I saw Thone change his glass for hers. That’s true. I don’t know—don’t know—any more.” Fanny shook her hennaed head. Her bracelets tinkled.

  Kelly frowned at the stained carpet. His men had what they could gather up of the mess that they’d found there. “She got chloral, did she, Doctor?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, certainly. Not a dangerous dose, I believe. But I took all precautions.”

  “Chloral again.”

  “I did get it,” murmured Mandy, “after all! I passed right out.”

  Kelly was very quick. “After all, eh? You thought she was going to give it to you? But you thought he—this, uh, Thone—was going to change the glasses. That was part of the plot, eh?” He forgot to hush her.

  She said, “Yes. I thought he had.” Kate’s hands were at her shoulders to persuade her to rest.

  Kelly looked at the others. “Anybody else see the old man change them back?” No one said anything. “But you saw it, Garrison?”

  “My God, no,” said Thone. “I let her drink it!”

  Gene, sitting tensely, to Kelly’s rear, bared his teeth.

  “How do you know he changed them back, then? Did he say so? Anybody hear him say so?” No one spoke. “Guessing, eh?” said Kelly. “Can we ask the old man, Doc?”

  “Not now.” The doctor shrugged. “Maybe never.”

  There was a faint sobbing sound from Ione, where she sat apart. El Kelly turned his body in the chair. “Well, Mrs. Garrison, let’s start with the poison in the chocolate. What do you say?”

  “I beg your pardon?” She stopped grief with surprise.

  “There was poison in the chocolate,” said Gene Noyes hoarsely.

  “Can you tell us who put it there?” said Kelly without turning his head. Gene licked his lips.

  “I have no idea what you mean,” said Ione in the blankest of tones.

  El Kelly moved his shoulders. “All right. Skip that for now. Tell me your version of tonight. Go ahead.”

  Ione got up and came on her little feet, toward them. She took the edge of the armless chair, bending her little body forward a trifle, sitting alert and yet decorously. “Of course. I will try to help you, Lieutenant.” Her eyes rolled as if she gathered and organized her thoughts. She began to speak quietly but precisely. “This Amanda Garth came here with a tale of babies in a hospital. She wanted us to believe that she was the true child of my husband and his second wife.” She swept a glance around the circle and heads nodded, except Kate’s.

  “My husband, whatever he believed, at least grew quite fond of her. He asked her here. There was no reason why this should upset me, Lieutenant. But I don’t think Thone … liked it.”

  She looked at Thone. Her eyes challenged him to deny it. He was sitting with his hands on the arms of his chair, feet flat on the floor. His lips parted but he did not speak.

  The dark eyes went to Fanny. Fanny responded. “Naturally, he didn’t want Toby upset. Also, he did think, at least at first, that she was deliberately trying to take his place because—well, he has his mother’s money.”

  “Why, so he has,” drawled Ione. Very soft and thoughtful the syllables were.

  Mandy was looking at the ceiling with a little frown. Fanny said harshly, “It was just a brief notion. Later he came to believe she had some … delusion.…” She put her lips together and shook her head again.

  Kate bristled, but Kelly held his hand up. “Go on,” he said coldly to Ione.

  “The child’s very much in love with Thone, of course.” The white head trembled as if in pity. But she didn’t look at Mandy. She looked at Thone.

  He was watching her with a grave stare. He seemed to have frozen where he sat.

  Fanny said grimly, “Yes, I think so. We must all say exactly what we think. It’s the only way.” She turned her bracelet. Kate’s eyes met hers. Some signal for boldness and some faith in it passed between them.

  Kate said, deliberately, “That’s true. Mandy told me. That’s true and that’s why—”

  “Why what, Mrs. Garth?”

  “Why she came here, really. Not in the hope of money.” Kate’s scorn was deep.

  Mandy roused herself on her elbow and looked at the mask of Thone’s face. “Oh, sure. That’s true,” she said carelessly, as if her thoughts were elsewhere.

  “It seems,” said Ione, wrinkling her brow, “there was some kind of plotting going on? Between them?” she was addressing Kelly but Thone answered.

  “There was. We went to Lieutenant Kelly about it. We arranged for Gene to be in the canyon, on guard.”

  “Yeah, Mandy called me,” Gene put in nervously.

  “To be on guard. For something resembling your mother’s death?” asked Ione softly. Thone’s face was stone. “Involving the automobile?”

  Kelly wished he had a man back of this Thone’s chair. He didn’t like the looks of those hands. He didn’t like the calm. “I knew about that,” he said uneasily. “But they figured wrong.”

  “Did they?” said Ione. Her hands played with the amethysts. It was as if a cold wind blew in the long room.

  “Proceed,” said Kelly.

  “I wonder …” said Ione. “You see,” she lowered her head in a ducking motion, “I know I have nothing to do with it. So perhaps I can see rather more clearly. I am not confused.”

  Thone’s hands gripped the chair arms.

  “Oh, I’m so afraidl” Her eyes, turned sideways, watched him as if she were, indeed, afraid, and yet must speak. “I’m so afraid Thone did this thing. For his father knew it.” She gasped as if emotion caught up with the mind. She clutched at her beads. “It’s frightening, Mr. Kelly. It’s quite—horrible, to me.” Her body rocked. “But, as Fanny says, we must say all we are thinking. This is the only way.”

  “Proceed,” said Thone hoarsely.

  “So Thone did it, eh?” Kelly spoke impersonally, as if he mentioned a mere puzzle. He was trying to play down the emotional side. “His motive was jealousy, like? Afraid she was getting into his place with his father? And also that she’d get the money?”

  “Yes, I suppose …” She sighed.

  “So he pretends to plot, you mean. You’re talking about a double cross.”

  “Am I?” said Ione. “I was only thinking, if he drugged his own glass and got her to agree that they be changed … That would make it so easy.”

  “I saw you,” said Thone, “in the window glass.”

  “So you say.” Dark eyes were insolent. “Although you are lying.”

  He seemed to break a little. His hands rose, trembling, in a defensive gesture. “I couldn’t have doped Mandy’s drink. Dad changed them back. That’s how she got it.”

  “So you say.” Her eyes glittered. “We can’t ask Toby, can we?”

  Kelly sat a little more upright. “Glasses and dope all mixed up,” he muttered angrily. “Who is going to say which glass was which any more now?” His eyes were hard on the man. “But lemme tell you this, Garriso
n, before you go any further. I already know that there are fragments, identifiable fragments, of your prints and Mrs. Garrison’s and the girl’s on both those little liqueur glasses. But not one trace of your father’s that we can find.”

  “He turned the table,” said Thone. He spun it, now, to demonstrate how it could revolve.

  “But you didn’t see him do that?”

  “No. I’d planned to do it that way, myself. It was bare, because I’d cleared it.”

  “Uh-huh.” Kelly grunted. “Anybody see the table turn?” No one answered. “Maybe you turned it yourself, after all,” mused Kelly, “if this is a double cross.”

  Thone didn’t seem to hear. He was back in his pose of terrifying control.

  “Well, anyhow, it looks pretty much as if either Thone Garrison or Mrs. Ione Garrison doped the drink. No other choice.” Ione opened her lips as he said this, but shut them again. It would do. It was good enough. Kelly looked at her rather oddly. “Any more?” he asked.

  Ione said, “Wasn’t there something about the workshop doors?”

  “Yeah. The middle door was locked. Gardener says it isn’t, usually. Now, I’d say it’s pretty plain somebody fixed it to lock and fixed the pipe so it was leaking, on purpose, too.”

  “Thone was down there. On the lowest terrace. This morning. With that foot of his, imagine. Oh, dear!” Ione was breathless. She rallied. She said, “I met him there as I came in. We came up together. Of course, I don’t know how long he had been there before I …”

  “That so?”

  “I didn’t go into the workshop,” said Thone with stiff lips. “She, however, came out of it.”

  “Anyone to witness that?”

  “No. Burt went around the corner. Mandy was on the phone. No, I guess not.” Thone slid his hands on the chair. He was thinking, she’ll trip herself. She’s being so clever. She’ll trip herself yet.

  Mandy lay with a lazy smile on her lips, scarcely seeming to follow all this.

  Kelly cleared his throat. He was lying low. He didn’t know. Let them fight it out.

  “Something about the key?” asked Ione brightly.