Detective and mystery stories; Trent, Philip (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
“There’s nothing much to say about what I did in the house. I spent the
time after Martin had left me in carefully thinking over the remaining
steps in my plan, while I unloaded and thoroughly cleaned the revolver
using my handkerchief and a penholder from the desk. I also placed the
packets of notes, the note-case, and the diamonds in the roll-top desk,
which I opened and relocked with Manderson’s key. When I went upstairs
it was a trying moment, for though I was safe from the eyes of Martin,
as he sat in his pantry, there was a faint possibility of somebody
being about on the bedroom floor. I had sometimes found the French maid
wandering about there when the other servants were in bed. Bunner, I
knew, was a deep sleeper. Mrs. Manderson, I had gathered from things I
had heard her say, was usually asleep by eleven; I had thought it
possible that her gift of sleep had helped her to retain all her beauty
and vitality in spite of a marriage which we all knew was an unhappy
one. Still it was uneasy work mounting the stairs, and holding myself
ready to retreat to the library again at the least sound from above.
But nothing happened.
“The first thing I did on reaching the corridor was to enter my room
and put the revolver and cartridges back in the case. Then I turned off
the light and went quietly into Manderson’s room.
“What I had to do there you know. I had to take off the shoes and put
them outside the door, leave Manderson’s jacket, waistcoat, trousers,
and black tie, after taking everything out of the pockets, select a
suit and tie and shoes for the body, and place the dental plate in the
bowl, which I moved from the washing-stand to the bedside, leaving
those ruinous finger-marks as I did so. The marks on the drawer must
have been made when I shut it after taking out the tie. Then I had to
lie down in the bed and tumble it. You know all about it—all except my
state of mind, which you couldn’t imagine and I couldn’t describe.
“The worst came when I had hardly begun my operations: the moment when
Mrs Manderson spoke from the room where I supposed her asleep. I was
prepared for it happening; it was a possibility; but I nearly lost my
nerve all the same. However....
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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