The Search for My Great-Uncle’s Head Read online

  I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing of which I was aware was the presence of Karl Norberg and the deputy, Jeff. They were both standing in front of me, and their faces were excited. Norberg was bending over to touch my arm.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “There’s someone in your uncle’s room,” said the tall Swede, a finger over his lips.

  “We saw a light up there,” supplemented the deputy.

  I jumped to my feet and led the way to the door of my uncle’s library. Under the crack there was a faint light! I turned to the others. “We’ll have to break the door down.”

  The deputy shook his head. “No.” He produced a key. “The sheriff left this with me.”

  “We better open it quick and all rush in at once,” said Norberg. “Then we’ll have a chance of surprising him.”

  We agreed that this was the best plan. The deputy gave the key to me and took his shotgun in both hands. Norberg had a heavy cane.

  “All right,” said the deputy.

  I turned the key and pushed open the door. They rushed into the room past me. It was pitch dark. The deputy cried, “All right, I’ve got you covered.” There was a noise of a scuffle and then a terrific explosion. The deputy had fired the shotgun. Someone tried to push past me at the door, and I said, “Here, where are you going?” Something heavy and solid hit me on the head, and I fell to the floor, my brain filled with shooting sparks and fire.

  Chapter V

  SOMEONE was putting a damp cloth on my head. The water, which smelled antiseptic, rolled down the sides of my face and along my neck. The water was cold, and my head throbbed unmercifully. I opened my eyes and saw Miss Harvey’s blonde head bending over me. Her blue eyes looked into mine.

  “You got quite a sock,” she said.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “You bumped into a blunt object.” She wrapped a piece of bandage around my head and said, “Lift up a little.” I did, and she tied a knot in back. Her hands were very gentle. “There.”

  I sat up, and for an instant the room spun dizzily.

  “Be careful,” said Miss Harvey.

  I saw that I was on the leather davenport in my uncle’s study and that the entire household had been aroused again. George Coffin, Grace Coffin and Mrs Harvey were talking by one of the windows, while by the door stood Dan Harvey and Burton Coffin. They were examining a splintered place on the wall where the bird shot from the deputy’s gun had struck. Miss Leslie was helping Dr Harvey replace bandages and a bottle of alcohol in his handbag.

  “Did the intruder get away?” I asked.

  Dr Harvey, his sharp face preoccupied, said, “We don’t know. The deputy and that chauffeur are still looking for him.” He came over to me and looked at my bandage and nodded. “That ought to hold you. It’s lucky there’s no fracture.”

  The others, hearing the conversation, grouped themselves around the davenport.

  “How did you get hit, Peter?” asked Mrs Coffin.

  I told them how the deputy and Norberg had seen the light in my uncle’s room and how we burst in on the intruder.

  “The fellow must have hit me with some sort of a weapon,” I said, “as he was coming out the door.”

  Dr Harvey said bluntly, “You’re lucky to be alive.” He thrust an iron poker at me. “Here’s what he hit you with. If it hadn’t been a glancing blow you wouldn’t be here now.”

  I took the poker from him. It was remarkably heavy. “This once I am thankful for the density of my cranium,” I said

  Miss Harvey smiled at my poor joke. “Do you think it was the nut who socked you?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t see anything.”

  “Why didn’t you hand him one?” asked Burton Coffin. “You could have nailed him as he ran out.”

  “He nailed me first,” I said.

  As usual my use of slang caused laughter. The women were still giggling when the deputy and Karl Norberg came into the room. Water dripped from their raincoats, and their feet were covered with mud from the court.

  “Couldn’t find a trace of anybody,” Karl reported.

  “He must have a hideaway in the house,” said the deputy. “We couldn’t find a window or a door open.”

  Mrs Harvey’s protruding eyes were alarmed. “You mean the madman’s in the house at this very moment?”

  “It looks that way, ma’am,” said the deputy.

  Mrs Harvey took a few jerky steps toward the door. “Come Thaddeus. Come Dan.” Her plump body shook under her black silk robe. “We are leaving this place at once.”

  Dr Harvey hurried to her side. “Nonsense, my dear,” he said, grasping her arm firmly. “How could we leave in a pouring rain like this?”

  “I am going to leave.”

  Miss Harvey left my side to go to her mother and was joined by her brother on the way. They both advanced arguments against leaving, citing the weather, the impossibility of catching a train until late in the morning and the foolishness of being frightened.

  “Somebody will stay with you all the time, Mother,” said Dan Harvey. “Nothing can hurt you then.”

  “But what if this person does leap out at us?” Mrs Harvey asked the deputy.

  “We’ll catch him, ma’am.”

  “But I should die of fright. I should die right in my tracks.”

  “Now, ma’am,” said the deputy.

  Dr Harvey took a deep breath. “But, Mary, we can’t leave. The deputy won’t let us. We’re witnesses in a murder case. Isn’t that right, Deputy?”

  “I reckon the sheriff would like to talk to you all in the morning.”

  “There. That settles it.” Dr Harvey nodded as though he was pleased to be under legal restraint. “We’ll have to stay until the sheriff sees us, my dear.”

  “He’ll see us all dead,” said Mrs Harvey.

  Grace Coffin, her deep voice under perfect control, said, “We’ll all stay together in the living room, Mary, if it would make you feel better.”

  “Oh, it would.” Mrs Harvey’s round face brightened. “There’s safety in numbers.”

  “A good idea,” said Dr Harvey. “You girls can sleep on the two big davenports, and we’ll use the easy chairs. It’ll be comfortable in front of the fire.”

  George Coffin had been looking out the window, but he turned and faced the Harveys. “No need to worry about the madman,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” asked Dr Harvey.

  “Would a madman go rummaging around in this room?”

  “I don’t know.” The doctor’s small blue eyes were alert. “Would he?”

  “That’s just it.”

  The deputy had been listening with wide eyes. He turned to me. “What does he mean, Mr Coffin?”

  “I believe he means that a madman wouldn’t return to a room where he had, a few hours before, cut off someone’s head.”

  “Then he thinks someone else was in the room?”

  “Perhaps you’d better ask him.”

  The deputy swung around so that he faced George Coffin. “Do you think someone else was in the room?”

  “Like Peter,” said George Coffin, “I wouldn’t come back if I were a madman.”

  “Who do you think was in here?”

  “A horse of a different color. No idea.”

  “Well, what would anybody have wanted in here?”

  “Dr Harvey can tell you.” George Coffin’s eyes, behind the shell glasses, were pleased as they regarded the doctor’s small red face.

  “Why should I be able to tell him?” demanded Dr Harvey.

  The deputy looked at me in bewilderment. “I don’t make head or tail of this. What would anybody have wanted in here, Mr Coffin?”

  I said, “I don’t know myself. Perhaps somebody was interested in the papers on my great-uncle’s desk. Perhaps he had some money in the desk or some negotiable securities. Perhaps he had some letters someone wished to secure.”

  “I get the idea,” said the deputy.

&n
bsp; Burton Coffin, who had been perched on the arm of the chair in which Miss Leslie was seated, asked, “How did the fellow get by you?”

  “He must have been hidin’ by the door,” said the deputy. “He probably heard the key and was waiting. He waits until we come rushin’ in and then gives me a terrible shove, and my gun goes off. Then I guess he whales Mr Coffin here and slams the door on us and beats it.”

  “But how did he have time enough to get away?”

  “He had plenty.” The deputy grinned. “We got all scrambled up in the room trying to find a light, so it was a couple of minutes before we got the door opened.”

  Miss Leslie said, “I think I’ll try some sleep.” She started for the door but halted when Mrs Coffin asked, “Aren’t you afraid to sleep alone, dear?”

  “Not a bit,” said Miss Leslie. “I can take care of myself.”

  She went out the door, followed by Burton Coffin. The Harvey family also drifted toward the door.

  George Coffin said, “Since there is a possibility that someone is interested in these papers suppose you and I, Peter, collect them under the deputy’s eye and put them in a safe place.”

  “That’s a splendid idea, George,” said Dr Harvey from the doorway. “Provided they are still all there.” His voice was satirical. He disappeared down the hall.

  “Well, let’s do it anyway,” said George Coffin. “Then …”

  “I’ll watch ’em,” said the deputy. “I’m going to sit right in this room the rest of the night.”

  “But that’s just it,” said George Coffin. “If we put them in an envelope and give it to you, then you won’t have to sit with the body. You can go down and guard the ladies downstairs.”

  This seemed to appeal to the deputy. He nodded his head. “I’ll collect ’em in an envelope,” he said. “You can watch me.”

  “It’s all the same,” said George Coffin.

  We removed the sheet from my great-uncle’s body, and the deputy collected the mass of legal-looking documents strewn over the desk. “Looks like he was doing some business with somebody,” said the deputy.

  Grace Coffin, who had been standing by the door, took a single glance at the body. “How terrible!” she exclaimed and hurried over to the window.

  Some of the papers were stained with blood, and the deputy wiped them off with a soiled handkerchief. “It’s only a three-for-a-quarter one,” he explained in response to our surprised glances, “and, anyway, I got another.”

  George Coffin found a manila envelope, and the deputy put the papers in it and fastened the metal prongs on the back. “There! I guess nobody’ll be monkeying with these until the sheriff gets here,” he said.

  I was pulling the sheet back over the body when Grace Coffin uttered a startled cry. “There’s somebody prowling around the lawn!”

  Karl Norberg, who had been sitting in a chair by the window, jumped to her side. “By golly!” he exclaimed, his nose flat against the pane. “A feller in white.”

  The deputy was already running. “Come on, Karl,” he called over his shoulder, “let’s get him.”

  George Coffin followed Norberg toward the door.

  “George!” his wife called frantically.

  “I’ll be all right, dear,” he shouted and disappeared down the hall.

  His wife rushed out after him, calling, “George! George! George!”

  I was alone. I got up to go after them, but my head spun so I was forced to sit down again. Sharp pains ran up and down my back; my skull felt as though it was about to split. I could hear the receding voice of Mrs Coffin, still calling, “George! George! George!” I was wondering why she was so terribly alarmed when another wave of pain swept over me.

  For a moment I was unable to do anything except sit in my chair with my teeth clenched and my hands pressed to the sides of my head. Then the pain passed, and I said, “Damn it,” and leaned against the back.

  Miss Leslie was standing in the doorway, looking at me. Her face was alarmed. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  I felt my face coloring. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to have my dramatics seen. I just had a twinge, but it’s gone.”

  She watched me dubiously. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes. My aunt always says I am the worst baby, when it comes to pain, she has ever seen.”

  She had, I thought, the most remarkable face I had ever seen. It told so little. There was some kind of an expression in her large gray eyes, but I couldn’t tell whether she was alarmed for me or afraid I might, as a result of the blow, be out of my mind and therefore dangerous. I couldn’t tell whether there was sympathy in those eyes or contempt.

  She stared at me without a change in her expression for fully a minute. Then she asked, “What is all the excitement about?”

  “Mrs Coffin saw someone on the front lawn.”

  “A man?”

  I nodded, then regretted my action. The movement sent a white flash of pain through my head. I managed to control my features, however.

  She walked to the window. “Could she tell who it was?”

  “I don’t think so. Anyway, she didn’t say.”

  She stood at the window for a long time, and I examined her back. Guiltily, for I am sure no gentleman would have taken advantage of a woman in this way, I noticed that she was slender and graceful, that her bobbed hair was soft and wavy and had a definite luster, and that her neck was small and rounded. She carried herself easily, and her back was straight. She was a bit taller than the average girl.

  She turned around and met my eyes. “They’re certainly making a thorough search,” she said. “I can see half a dozen lights out there.”

  “I wish they’d catch him,” I said. “It is quite a strain, both on my nerves and my head, to have him running around this way.”

  “It’s a strain on everyone’s nerves,” she said. There were tiny wrinkles on her forehead when she frowned. “Do you think it was the madman who hit you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. It does seem strange that he would return to the scene of his crime, but who can tell what a madman will do?”

  Abruptly she asked, “Do you know anything about your great-uncle’s will?”

  “Nothing except there seems to be a lot of talk about it.”

  “And your uncle didn’t tell you anything about a will when he talked to you?”

  “Not a thing. He contented himself with expressing utter disapproval of my grandfather, my father and myself for our failure to become financiers. I think he was endeavoring to convey the opinion that all the brains and energy in the Coffin family had been centered in himself. He seemed ill pleased with the rest of the family (with the exception of my aunt Nineveh) and especially with me, of whom he had expected better things.”

  Miss Leslie said, “I can see how he might have felt.”

  I was trying to think of a good-humored retort when Burton Coffin appeared in the door. He was out of breath, his bathrobe was wet and streaked with mud, his face was damp.

  “Did they find him?” I asked.

  His eyes were on Miss Leslie. “No,” he said. There was a sort of negation in his look, as though he were denying something. “No,” he said again and hurried along the corridor. He did not look at me at all. I noticed, just before he passed out of sight, that his slippers were perfectly dry and clean.

  Miss Leslie’s eyes widened with surprise. She took an involuntary step after him, then glanced somewhat shamefacedly at me.

  “I guess they’ve given up the search,” I said. “It’s very futile, anyway, on a night such as this.”

  Miss Leslie was not listening to me. Her eyes were upon the doorway where Burton Coffin had just stood. Her fine brows were knit thoughtfully; her expression was puzzled.

  I did not like to sit in my chair and stare at her, but I was afraid to get up for fear I would be taken with another spell of dizziness and further alarm Miss Leslie. So I talked.

  “They say rural life is
very quiet beside the excitement of a large city,” I said, “but I don’t believe even New York could excel this evening. Do you think so, Miss Leslie?”

  “No, I don’t believe it could.”

  “This excitement is unprecedented for a college professor,” I continued. “I think my colleagues will be astounded when I return and tell them my stories of madmen, a walk through a pitch-black forest, midnight alarms, a detruncated relative, a blow on the head, searches through rain-sodden grounds and other small-hour excursions.”

  She was smiling a little.

  “Though I fear I have not played such a heroic part. But then, I am only a scholar.”

  Her face, when she smiled, lost some of its quality of brooding. “I’m sorry about this evening,” she said. “I mean, about the remarks I’ve been making. I was upset by Mrs Spotswood’s screaming, and in some way I held you responsible.”

  “Anybody would have been upset by my clumsiness. I behaved very badly.”

  “Then you’ll forget what I said?”

  “I’d already forgotten it,” I lied.

  “Thank you.” Her oval face was impersonal. “I think I’ll go back to bed.”

  I knew I should escort her to her room, but I was afraid to try my sense of balance by standing. I sat in my chair and watched her move toward the door.

  As she neared the hall George Coffin and the deputy appeared in front of her. “No luck,” said the deputy. “We found some footprints, but the guy had cleared out.”

  George Coffin peered solemnly through his horn glasses at Miss Leslie. “Been comforting the sick man?”

  “No.” Her voice was amused. “I heard the shouting and came out to see what the matter was.”

  “Oh.” My cousin peered at me, then said, “Most of the women, at least my wife and Mrs Harvey and her daughter, are going to spend the rest of the night in front of the living-room fire. Wouldn’t you like to join them, Miss Leslie?”