The Deep Lake Mystery

“Partly to help along by corroborating anything I may learn or discover and partly that you may tell Mr. Moore all about it later, and save me that much work. I’ve none too much time for what I have to do.”

“Go ahead, Gray,” Keeley said. “I can’t leave the funeral, of course, but your absence will not be noticed. As neighbours, we must show proper respect, but our guests may be excused.”

“Very well, then, I’ll go,” I told March. For I felt I’d rather know exactly what he found out and so know what steps to take myself.

I was formulating in my mind a course of procedure that I hoped might free Alma from these monstrous and false suspicions.

“I’ll go,” I repeated, “but not because I foresee any new evidence against Miss Remsen. It’s too absurd to suspect her.”

“It’s too absurd not to,” March said. “The evidence is piling up. The fingerprints and footsteps and the maid’s story of seeing her that night all seem to prove she was there at the fatal hour. The strange decorations on the deathbed look like the work of a diseased mind. Posy May’s story seems to prove that Miss Remsen is afflicted with some sort of spells that transform her into a demoniac. Then, add the details of the waistcoats and Totem Pole, the fact that she is an expert swimmer and the strong motive of the approaching loss of her uncle’s fortune – ”

“You’re going too fast, Mr. March,” I interrupted him. “Posy May’s story should not be taken without some outside corroboration. She is an irresponsible child, and not fit to be a real witness. The maid, Jennie, I think, comes in the same category. I, for one, am unwilling to admit Miss Remsen the victim of any sort of malady or disease until we have a doctor’s opinion on that subject. It seems to me this is only fair to the young lady.”

“Norris is right about that,” Keeley agreed with me. “Keep these developments quiet for another twenty-four hours, March. No good can come from exploiting them.”

“No, and I don’t mean to. But no harm can come of going over to the Remsen house, even if it does no good.”

“All right as to that. Go ahead. Go with him, Gray, and keep your eyes and ears open. The two Merivales will probably be at the funeral, but there’ll doubtless be some one in charge of the place.”

It was time to start then, and we walked sedately out to the car, our funeral manner already upon us.

The two Moores and Maud went up toward the front seats, while March and I took seats in the back of the room.

The services were held at Pleasure Dome, in the great ballroom that was beneath the rooms of Sampson Tracy’s suite.

I looked out the window at the deep, dark lake. Sunless Sea was an apt name for it, as the trees grew thickly right down to the very edge of the water, and the great house also shaded it. A sombre-looking scene, yet of a certain still peacefulness that had its own appeal.

Here and there a rock lifted its jagged form up out of the water, but I realized that if a diver or swimmer were familiar with the place, he could easily avoid danger.

My heart was sick at the black clouds that seemed to be closing in round the girl I loved, and I resolved anew to devote my whole heart and soul to the task of setting her free.

I had no doubt of her innocence, no doubt but that these seemingly true counts against her were really capable of some other explanation, but even if she were guilty, even if she had killed her uncle, whether in her right mind or not, she was still the one girl in the world for me. I would comfort and help her in her adversity as I would in more joyful hours, should such ever come to us.

Then I saw her come in – saw Alma enter, her arm through that of the faithful Merry, while John Merivale stalked behind them like a bodyguard.

What a pair those Merivales were! Invincible seemed to be the only word that described them. Strong, brave, keen-witted, they looked forceful and capable enough to ward off all trouble from the girl they loved. But whether they could do so or not was the question.

Alma, white-faced but composed, walked with a steady step, and took the seat the usher offered, in the front row, her faithful henchmen on either side.

Mrs. Dallas was also in the front row, and the secretaries and Harper Ames.

In the next row sat the entire staff of the Pleasure Dome servants. Then came the neighbours and villagers. The room was quickly filled and many were turned away or relegated to other rooms in the house.

The air was heavy with the scent of hothouse flowers, for the well-meaning donors were not content to send the lovely garden flowers blooming on their own estates.

Exquisite music sounded from behind a screen of tall palms, and as the services began, March looked at me, and we silently rose and went out.

“Horrible affairs, funerals,” I said, wiping my brow with my handkerchief.

“Oh, I don’t know,” the detective responded, “I rather like them. I like that exotic effect of the flowers and music and the solemn-faced audience, and the still peaceful figure in the casket. Yes, it impresses me rather pleasantly.”

“Then you’re a ghoul,” I told him, irritably, which was unjust on the face of it.

The good-natured chap only smiled, for he realized, I think, that my nerves were on edge.

“I don’t know you very well, Mr. Norris,” he said, after a pause, “but I’m going to venture on a bit of advice. I know, of course, your regard for Miss Remsen, and I’m going to warn you that you may hinder rather than help her cause, unless you learn to control your feelings. Don’t lose your temper when you see us detectives prying into matters that seem to you sacred. These things must be done. Your objections have no weight, and it is far wiser not to raise them. Maybe I am offending you, but my intentions are good, and you can take it or leave it.”

The man’s honest countenance and kindly smile affected me more pleasantly than his words, and after a moment I said, heartily:

“I take it, Mr. March. I realize I am a blundering ass, and I’m grateful for a pull-up. But, to be frank, I never was in love before, and to find suddenly that I care for a woman with all my heart and soul, and then find her under a terrible suspicion – well, I daresay you’ll admit it is a hard position.”

“I do. Indeed, I do. And you mustn’t give up hope yet. I always keep an open mind just as long as possible. It may be some other claimant for the honour of being the criminal will turn up. I surely hope so. But in the meantime we must just dig into things and do all we can to get more light.”

“You’re going to search the house on the Island?”

“I certainly am, if I can get in any way. Maybe there’s no one there.”

“Then you’d break in, I suppose.”

“Maybe, maybe. I’d do anything to learn a few things I want to know.”

We had reached the Pleasure Dome boathouse now, and from an attendant there March commandeered a small boat, which he said he would row himself.

“I like a bit of exercise,” he told me, “and rowing is my preference.”

So we went on, past Variable Winds, on down to the Island of Whistling Reeds.

A quiet, rather grim-faced man helped us to make our landing and we went up to the house.

Before we reached it, March paused to give it a moment’s study.

We looked at its pleasant porches and its windows with light, fluttering curtains. From one window, on the second floor, a face looked out at us, a girl’s face, with dark, bobbed hair.

The head was quickly withdrawn, and we went up the steps and March rang the bell.

In a moment the door was opened by the girl whose face we had seen at the window. She now wore a bit of a frilled cap with a black velvet bow.

This she had obviously donned at the sound of the doorbell.

“We have come,” March said to her, in his pleasant way, “to look over the house.”

“It isn’t for sale,” she said, not frightened at all, but seeming a little amused.

“I know. I don’t want to buy or rent it. Are you the parlour maid?”

“I’m Miss Remsen’s personal maid – lady’s maid,” she returned, bridling a bit, as if to be a parlour maid was beneath her rank.

“Oh, I see. I thought Miss Remsen had her nurse – ”