The Case of the Sleepwalker's Niece by Erle Stanley Gardner Page A
Authors: Erle Stanley Gardner
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be in order – no corpses stacked in the corners or under the bed."
"Please don't try to keep my spirits up, Mr. Mason. I've got to be brave. It's under the pillow, if it's anywhere. That's where it was the other morning. You look, I don't dare."
Mason walked to the bed, lifted the pillow. Under the pillow was a long, black-handled carving knife. The blade was discolored with sinister reddish stains.
CHAPTER IX
MASON dropped the pillow, jumped backwards and clapped his hand over Edna Hammer's mouth. "Shut up," he said, stifling the screams she had been about to emit. "Use your head. Let's find out what we're up against before we spread an alarm."
"But the knife!" she half screamed as he lowered his hand from her lips. "It's all b-b-b-bloody! You can see what's h-h-h-happened. Oh, I'm so f-f-f-frightened!"
"Forget it," Mason told her. "Having hysterics isn't going to help. Let's get busy and find out where we stand. Come on."
He strode out into the corridor, walked down to the door of his room, tried it, found it locked, banged on it, and, after a moment, heard the sound of heavy steps, the clicking of a bolt, and Dr. Kelton, his face covered with lather, a shaving brush held in his right hand, said, "I'm already up, if that's what you came for. The smell of broiling bacon filters through that window and…"
"That," Mason told him, "isn't what we came for. Get the lather off your face and come in here. You don't need to put on a shirt, just come the way you are."
Dr. Kelton stared steadily at Mason for a moment, then went to the washstand, splashed water on his face, wiped off the lather with a towel, and, still drying his face and hands, accompanied them across the corridor to Peter Kent's room. Mason raised the pillow. Dr. Kelton leaned over to stare at the bloody blade, so eloquent in its silent accusation. Kelton gave a low whistle.
"It'll be Maddox," Edna Hammer said, her voice hysterical. "You know how Uncle Pete felt toward him. He went to bed last night with that thought in his mind… Oh, hurry, let's go to his room at once! Perhaps he isn't dead – just wounded. If Uncle Pete was groping about in the dark… perhaps he…" She broke off with a quick, gasping intake of her breath.
Mason nodded, turned toward the door. "Lead the way," he ordered.
She led them down the corridor, down a flight of stairs, into a corridor on the opposite wing of the house. She paused in front of a door, raised her hand to knock and said, "Oh, no, I forgot Maddox changed rooms with Uncle Phil. Maddox is over here."
"Who's Uncle Phil?" Dr. Kelton asked.
"Philip Rease, Uncle Pete's half-brother. He's something of a crank. He thought there was a draught across his bed and asked Maddox to change rooms with him last night."
She moved down to another door, knocked gently and, when there was no answer, glanced apprehensively at Perry Mason and slowly reached for the door knob. "Wait a minute," Mason said; "perhaps I'd better do this." He pushed her gently to one side, twisted the knob and opened the door. The room was on the north side of the corridor. French doors opened onto a cemented porch some eighteen inches above the patio. Drapes were drawn across these windows so that the morning light filtered into the room, disclosing indistinctly a motionless object lying on the bed. Mason stepped forward and said over his shoulder to Dr. Kelton, "Be careful you don't touch anything, Doctor."
Edna Hammer came forward a doubtful step or two then walking rapidly to Perry Mason's side, clung to his arm. Mason bent over the bed. Abruptly the figure below him stirred. Mason jumped back. Frank Maddox, sitting up in bed, stared at them with wide eyes, then, as his surprise gave way to indignation, he demanded, "What the devil's the meaning of this?"
Mason said, "We came to call you for breakfast."
"You've got a crust," Maddox said, "invading the privacy of my room this way. What the devil are you trying to do? If you've been through any of
"Please don't try to keep my spirits up, Mr. Mason. I've got to be brave. It's under the pillow, if it's anywhere. That's where it was the other morning. You look, I don't dare."
Mason walked to the bed, lifted the pillow. Under the pillow was a long, black-handled carving knife. The blade was discolored with sinister reddish stains.
CHAPTER IX
MASON dropped the pillow, jumped backwards and clapped his hand over Edna Hammer's mouth. "Shut up," he said, stifling the screams she had been about to emit. "Use your head. Let's find out what we're up against before we spread an alarm."
"But the knife!" she half screamed as he lowered his hand from her lips. "It's all b-b-b-bloody! You can see what's h-h-h-happened. Oh, I'm so f-f-f-frightened!"
"Forget it," Mason told her. "Having hysterics isn't going to help. Let's get busy and find out where we stand. Come on."
He strode out into the corridor, walked down to the door of his room, tried it, found it locked, banged on it, and, after a moment, heard the sound of heavy steps, the clicking of a bolt, and Dr. Kelton, his face covered with lather, a shaving brush held in his right hand, said, "I'm already up, if that's what you came for. The smell of broiling bacon filters through that window and…"
"That," Mason told him, "isn't what we came for. Get the lather off your face and come in here. You don't need to put on a shirt, just come the way you are."
Dr. Kelton stared steadily at Mason for a moment, then went to the washstand, splashed water on his face, wiped off the lather with a towel, and, still drying his face and hands, accompanied them across the corridor to Peter Kent's room. Mason raised the pillow. Dr. Kelton leaned over to stare at the bloody blade, so eloquent in its silent accusation. Kelton gave a low whistle.
"It'll be Maddox," Edna Hammer said, her voice hysterical. "You know how Uncle Pete felt toward him. He went to bed last night with that thought in his mind… Oh, hurry, let's go to his room at once! Perhaps he isn't dead – just wounded. If Uncle Pete was groping about in the dark… perhaps he…" She broke off with a quick, gasping intake of her breath.
Mason nodded, turned toward the door. "Lead the way," he ordered.
She led them down the corridor, down a flight of stairs, into a corridor on the opposite wing of the house. She paused in front of a door, raised her hand to knock and said, "Oh, no, I forgot Maddox changed rooms with Uncle Phil. Maddox is over here."
"Who's Uncle Phil?" Dr. Kelton asked.
"Philip Rease, Uncle Pete's half-brother. He's something of a crank. He thought there was a draught across his bed and asked Maddox to change rooms with him last night."
She moved down to another door, knocked gently and, when there was no answer, glanced apprehensively at Perry Mason and slowly reached for the door knob. "Wait a minute," Mason said; "perhaps I'd better do this." He pushed her gently to one side, twisted the knob and opened the door. The room was on the north side of the corridor. French doors opened onto a cemented porch some eighteen inches above the patio. Drapes were drawn across these windows so that the morning light filtered into the room, disclosing indistinctly a motionless object lying on the bed. Mason stepped forward and said over his shoulder to Dr. Kelton, "Be careful you don't touch anything, Doctor."
Edna Hammer came forward a doubtful step or two then walking rapidly to Perry Mason's side, clung to his arm. Mason bent over the bed. Abruptly the figure below him stirred. Mason jumped back. Frank Maddox, sitting up in bed, stared at them with wide eyes, then, as his surprise gave way to indignation, he demanded, "What the devil's the meaning of this?"
Mason said, "We came to call you for breakfast."
"You've got a crust," Maddox said, "invading the privacy of my room this way. What the devil are you trying to do? If you've been through any of
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