Behind That Curtain by Earl Der Biggers Page B

you do. Everybody will. I’ll show them. You’ve called the police, of course.”
    â€œNot yet,” Kirk answered.
    She sat down resolutely at the desk, and took up the telephone. “Davenport 20,” she said. “The Hall of Justice?… Captain Flannery, please … Hello—Captain? Miss Morrow of the district attorney’s office speaking. There has been a murder in Mr. Kirk’s office on the top floor of the Kirk Building. You had better come yourself … Thank you … Yes—I’ll attend to that.”
    She got up, and, going round the desk, bent over Sir Frederic. She noted the book, and her eyes strayed wonderingly to the stocking feet. Inquiringly she turned to Chan.
    â€œThe slippers of Hilary Galt,” he nodded. “Souvenir of that unhappy case, they adorned his feet when he came down. Here is Paradise—he will explain to you.”
    The butler had returned, and Miss Morrow faced him. “Tell us what you know, please,” she said.
    â€œI was busy in the pantry,” Paradise said. “I thought I heard the buzz of the burglar alarm by Mr. Kirk’s bed—the one connectedwith the windows and safe in this room. I hastened to make sure, but Sir Frederic was just behind. It was almost as though he had been expecting it. I don’t know how I got that impression—I’m odd that way—”
    â€œGo on,” said the girl. “Sir Frederic followed you into Mr. Kirk’s room?”
    â€œYes, Miss. ‘There’s someone below, sir,’ I said. ‘Someone who doesn’t belong there.’ Sir Frederic looked back into the pitch dark living-room. ‘I fancy so, Paradise,’ he said. He was smiling. ‘I will attend to it. No need to disturb Mr. Kirk or his guests.’ I followed him into his room. He tossed off his patent leather pumps. ‘The stairs are a bit soiled, I fear, sir,’ I reminded him. He laughed. ‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘But I have the very thing.’ The velvet slippers were lying near his bed. He put them on. ‘I shall walk softly in these, Paradise,’ he told me. At the head of the stairs, I stopped him. A sort of fear was in my heart—I am given to that—to having premonitions—”
    â€œYou stopped him,” Kirk cut in.
    â€œI did, sir. Respectfully, of course. ‘Are you armed, Sir Frederic?’ I made bold to inquire. He shook his head. ‘No need, Paradise,’ he answered. ‘I fancy our visitor is of the weaker sex.’ And then he went down, sir—to his death.”
    They were silent for a moment, pondering the servant’s story.
    â€œWe had better go,” said the girl, “and tell the others. Someone must stay here. If it’s not asking too much, Mr. Chan—”
    â€œI am torn with grief to disagree,” Chan answered. “Please pardon me. But for myself, I have keen eagerness to note how this news is taken in the room above.”
    â€œAh, yes. Naturally.”
    â€œI shall be glad to stay, Miss,” Paradise said.
    â€œVery well,” the girl answered. “Please let me know as soon as Captain Flannery arrives.” She led the way above, and Kirk and the little detective from Honolulu followed.
    Barry Kirk’s guests were seated, silent and expectant, in the now brightly lighted living-room. They looked up inquiringly as the three from below entered. Kirk faced them, at a loss how to begin.
    â€œI have dreadful news for you,” he said. “An accident—a terrible accident.” Chan’s eyes moved rapidly about the group and, making their choice, rested finally on the white, drawn face of Eileen Enderby. “Sir Frederic Bruce has been murdered in my office,” Kirk finished.
    There was a moment’s breathless silence, and then Mrs. Enderby got to her feet. “It’s the dark,” she cried in a harsh, shrill voice. “I knew it. I knew