WHO KILLED CHARMIAN KARSLAKE? (Murder Mystery Classic). Annie Haynes
"That is what I should have said a few minutes ago, Mademoiselle Marie. But now that I have seen you the wish has become an overmastering desire."
The maid bridled. "But my name is not Marie," she said, looking down at her little buckled shoes discreetly. "It is Celestine Dubois—Celeste, for short," raising her eyes and giving him a sudden, bewildering smile.
An answering smile appeared on the inspector's face. "Mademoiselle Celeste, then."
"Ah, yes. Dat is better."
Celeste settled herself in her chair and lowered her white eyelids discreetly. She knew the value of her smiles too well to be prodigal of them.
"Well, monsieur?"
"You have been Miss Karslake's maid since her coming to England?"
"Ah, yes, monsieur. Before dat, too, when she was acting in New York. I have been wis Mees Karslake, it is eight mons now."
"Ah, indeed!" The inspector's eyes brightened.
"Now, have you any idea whether your mistress had ever been in England before?"
Celeste wrinkled up her brows. "Now it is funny dat you should ask me dat, monsieur. For I 'ave said to myself many times since we came to London zat it is extraordinaire that Mademoiselle should know de English ways and de names of so many places. One day she take me wis her in a taxi, and wen it put us down, Mees Karslake, she just walk straight on witout stopping trough dirty little back streets to what you call a musty, fusty old church. Den she tell me to sit down in de porch and she will go in. But I will not sit down—it is all too dirty, and walk about outside. Zen a man in a black gown—a servant of ze church come along to talk to me and I talk to him and de time pass a bit more quickly, but it is long, oh, very long before Mademoiselle come out. When she do, I see zat she has been weeping; when we are in the taxi she say she have been upset because her grandfather is buried in zat church. I do not say anything, but to myself I laugh. I would not weep one little bit if I saw the place vere all my granfazers and granmozers are buried—me."
The inspector smiled. "I don't suppose you would. Do you remember the name of this church, mademoiselle?"
The maid shook her head. "I did never hear it. But I wish—I sink I would know it if I saw it."
"Ah, well, perhaps some day we will take you to see it," the inspector said quickly. "Now, mademoiselle, will you tell us all that you know of Miss Karslake's death?"
"Me! Me!" Celeste almost bounced out of her chair in her indignation. "I know nosin—nosin at all. Two days ago Mees Karslake, she tell me to pack her sings for dis ball, and I am pleased, for it is triste always in this land of fogs, when one goes out novere. But if I had known—"
"You would not have been pleased," the inspector suggested.
"No—and again no!" Celeste said emphatically. "But zen I am. And my Mademoiselle has one lovely frock for it—all gold—gold tissue, and she looks ravishing in it. It is a pleasure to dress her."
"You came down by train, I understand?"
Celeste nodded. "By de four o'clock from St. Pancras."
"Do you think that any suspicious characters may have seen Miss Karslake's jewellery—the sapphire ball, for instance—and followed her to the Abbey and possibly killed her in order to obtain it?"
"No, I do not sink," Celeste said decidedly. "I did not travel in ze same carriage with Mees Karslake, but I am in de next and I do not see suspicious people looking at her. And jewellery, she do not wear it. De sapphire ball, dat is always round her neck, but it is safe, so zat zey cannot see it even when she is in de train."
"How much did you see of Miss Karslake after your arrival at the Abbey?"
Celeste considered. "Well! Not so very much. I undress her. Zat is I tak off ze sings in which she come down and I dress her for ze evening. But she do not talk, only she say, 'You are not to sit up for me, Celeste. I will undress myself.' It was den dat I was surprised."
"Why were you surprised?" the inspector questioned.
"Because nevare—nevare have she said zat to me before. And often I have to sit up for her when she is late from the theatre."
"Then you did not see her after the ball?" the inspector said in a disappointed tone.
"Oh, but I did, monsieur." Celeste's white teeth gleamed. "I am not sleepy, I like to watch de ball. It is all very smart, like Paris, monsieur. So I wait up and go to her room when it is finished. But she is not pleased when she see me. 'Did I not tell you not to wait for me, Celeste, but to go to bed? Now please, will you go at once?'"
"I wonder why she said that," the inspector cogitated.
Celeste spread out her hands. "I do not know. But since I have been asking myself—did she expect some one dat evening in her room? I sink she did. And I sink dat dat person get in and kill her, because I see—"
"What did you see?" The inspector's tone altered sharply.
Celeste looked at him and her eyes grew brighter.
"I walk on to the end of the passage, monsieur, and zen I look round—I do not know wy—and I see some one, a man come along very softly from ze ozer end. At ze time I do not know where he went, but now I sink, I do sink that he went to Mademoiselle's room."
"Did you recognize him?" the inspector asked sharply.
"Me!" Celeste spread out her hands again and grimaced. "But I could not. You will understand, monsieur, zat ze passage is not so very light. Mooch of what you call ze power had been turned off because most of ze guests have gone to zere rooms. Also zat man he keep his head down and turn it razer towards ze wall, zen also I do not look at him much."
"Why haven't you spoken of this before?" The inspector had grown stern.
"I do not know. I suppose because I did not sink mooch of it," Celeste returned in a small voice. "I just sink it is one of ze gentlemen going to his room. I did see he had what you call evening dress. But all to-day I have sought and sought and I do sink it is at Miss Karslake's door zat he stops. Zat is all I know."
The inspector appeared to be idly tracing marks on a sheet of note-paper.
"Well, you must think again, mademoiselle, and perhaps you will remember some more."
"I do not sink so." Celeste shook her head positively. "I sink I have no more to remember."
The inspector deserted the subject. "Then that is the last you saw of Miss Karslake alive, mademoiselle?"
Celeste shuddered. "Yes, yes! But I was there when zey knock down ze door and I see her dead. Oh, nevare will I forget, nevare! She haunts me."
"Put it out of your mind, mademoiselle." There was a shade of pity in the inspector's tone. "Just one more question and I have finished. I understand that, as far as you can tell, there is nothing missing from Miss Karslake's room, except, I suppose, the ball?"
"As far as I can tell, nosing else, monsieur," Celeste said decidedly. "Dat is, no jewels. Of her money I do not know. But I hear that there is not much found. Zen I sink I see some in her little morocco case, but then Miss Karslake have her cheque book."
The inspector stood up. "Then, that is all just now, mademoiselle. I must thank you for your courtesy." Celeste got up too. "I also will tank you for yours, monsieur." She dropped him a little stage curtsy. "I bid you good-bye, monsieur," she said as she turned to the door.
The inspector opened it for her. "Not good-bye," he said politely. "Only au revoir, mademoiselle."
Chapter IV
A policeman stood before the room in which Charmian Karslake had been murdered. He saluted as the inspector and Harbord came up.
"Anyone