101 Mystery Stories

73 A Home Away from Home Robert Bloch

The train was late, and it must have been past nine o’clock when Natalie found herself standing, all alone, on the platform before Hightower Station.

The station itself was obviously closed for the night — it was only a way-stop, really, for there was no town here — and Natalie wasn’t quite sure what to do. She had taken it for granted that Dr. Bracegirdle would be on hand to meet her. Before leaving London, she’d sent her uncle a wire giving him the time of her arrival. But since the train had been delayed, perhaps he’d come and gone.

Natalie glanced around uncertainly, then noticed the phone booth which provided her with a solution. Dr. Bracegirdle’s last letter was in her purse, and it contained both his address and his phone number. She had fumbled through her bag and found it by the time she walked over to the booth.

Ringing him up proved a bit of a problem; there seemed to be an interminable delay before the operator made the connection, and there was a great deal of buzzing on the line. A glimpse of the hills beyond the station, through the glass wall of the booth, suggested the reason for the difficulty. After all, Natalie reminded herself, this was West Country. Conditions might be a bit primitive—

“Hello, hello!”

The woman’s voice came over the line, fairly shouting above the din. There was no buzzing noise now, and the sound in the background suggested a babble of voices all intermingled. Natalie bent forward and spoke directly and distinctly into the mouthpiece.

“This is Natalie Rivers,” she said. “Is Dr. Bracegirdle there?”

“Whom did you say was calling?”

“Natalie Rivers. I’m his niece.”

“His what, Miss?”

“Niece,” Natalie repeated. “May I speak to him, please?”

“Just a moment.”

There was a pause, during which the sound of voices in the background seemed amplified, and then Natalie heard the resonant masculine tones, so much easier to separate from the indistinct murmuring.

“Dr. Bracegirdle here. My dear Natalie, this is an unexpected pleasure!”

“Unexpected? But I sent you a ’gram from London this afternoon.” Natalie checked herself as she realized the slight edge of impatience which had crept into her voice. “Didn’t it arrive?”

“I’m afraid service is not of the best around here,” Dr. Bracegirdle told her, with an apologetic chuckle. “No, your wire didn’t arrive. But apparently you did.” He chuckled again. “Where are you, my dear?”

“At Hightower Station.”

“Oh, dear. It’s in exactly the opposite direction.”

“Opposite direction?”

“From Peterby’s. They rang me up just before you called. Some silly nonsense about an appendix — probably nothing but an upset stomach. But I promised to stop round directly, just in case.”

“Don’t tell me they still call you for general practice?”

“Emergencies, my dear. There aren’t many physicians in these parts. Fortunately, there aren’t many patients either.” Dr. Bracegirdle started to chuckle, then sobered. “Look now. You say you’re at the station. I’ll just send Miss Plummer down to fetch you in the wagon. Have you much luggage?”

“Only my travel-case. The rest is coming with the household goods, by boat.”

“Boat?”

“Didn’t I mention it when I wrote?”

“Yes, that’s right, you did. Well, no matter. Miss Plummer will be along for you directly.”

“I’ll be waiting in front of the platform.”

“What was that? Speak up, I can hardly hear you.”

“I said I’ll be waiting in front of the platform.”

“Oh.” Dr. Bracegirdle chuckled again. “Bit of a party going on here.”

“Shan’t I be intruding? I mean, since you weren’t expecting me—”

“Not at all! They’ll be leaving before long. You wait for Plummer.”

The phone clicked off and Natalie returned to the platform. In a surprisingly short time, the station-wagon appeared and skidded off the road to halt at the very edge of the tracks. A tall, thin, gray-haired woman, wearing a somewhat rumpled white uniform, emerged and beckoned to Natalie.

“Come along, my dear,” she called. “Here, I’ll just pop this in back.” Scooping up the bag, she tossed it into the rear of the wagon. “Now, in with you — and off we go!”

Scarcely waiting for Natalie to close the door after her, Miss Plummer gunned the motor and the car plunged back onto the road.

The speedometer immediately shot up to seventy, and Natalie flinched. Miss Plummer noticed her agitation at once.

“Sorry,” she said. “With Doctor out on call, I can’t be away too long.”

“Oh yes, the house-guests. He told me.”

“Did he now?” Miss Plummer took a sharp turn at a crossroads and the tires screeched in protest, but to no avail. Natalie decided to drown apprehension in conversation.

“What sort of a man is my uncle?” she asked.

“Have you never met him?”

“No. My parents moved to Australia when I was quite young. This is my first trip to England. In fact, it’s the first time I’ve left Canberra.”

“Folks with you?”

“They were in a motor smashup two months ago,” Natalie said. “Didn’t the Doctor tell you?”

“I’m afraid not — you see, I haven’t been with him very long.” Miss Plummer uttered a short bark and the car swerved wildly across the road. “Motor smashup, eh? Some people have no business behind the wheel. That’s what Doctor says.”

She turned and peered at Natalie. “I take it you’ve come to stay, then?”

“Yes, of course. He wrote me when he was appointed my guardian. That’s why I was wondering what he might be like. It’s so hard to tell from letters.” The thin-faced woman nodded silently, but Natalie had an urge to confide. “To tell the truth, I’m just a little bit edgy. I mean, I’ve never met a psychiatrist before.”

“Haven’t you, now?” Miss Plummer shrugged. “You’re quite fortunate. I’ve seen a few in my time. A bit on the know-it-all side, if you ask me. Though I must say, Dr. Bracegirdle is one of the best. Permissive, you know.”

“I understand he has quite a practice.”

“There’s no lack of patients for that sort of thing,” Miss Plummer observed. “Particularly amongst the well-to-do. I’d say your uncle has done himself handsomely. The house and all — but you’ll see.” Once again the wagon whirled into a sickening swerve and sped forward between the imposing gates of a huge driveway which led towards an enormous house set amidst a grove of trees in the distance. Through the shuttered windows Natalie caught sight of a faint beam of light — just enough to help reveal the ornate facade of her uncle’s home.

“Oh, dear,” she muttered, half to herself.

“What is it?”

“The guests — and it’s Saturday night. And here I am, all mussed from travel.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Miss Plummer assured her. “There’s no formality here. That’s what Doctor told me when I came. It’s a home away from home.”

Miss Plummer barked and braked simultaneously, and the station-wagon came to an abrupt stop just behind an imposing black limousine.

“Out with you now!” With brisk efficiency, Miss Plummer lifted the bag from the rear seat and carried it up the steps, beckoning Natalie forward with a nod over her shoulder. She halted at the door and fumbled for a key.

“No sense knocking,” she said. “They’d never hear me.” As the door swung open her observation was amply confirmed. The background noise which Natalie had noted over the telephone now formed a formidable foreground. She stood there, hesitant, as Miss Plummer swept forward across the threshold.

“Come along, come along!”

Obediently, Natalie entered, and as Miss Plummer shut the door behind her, she blinked with eyes unaccustomed to the brightness of the interior.

She found herself standing in a long, somewhat bare hallway. Directly ahead of her was a large staircase; at an angle between the railing and the wall was a desk and chair. To her left was a dark panelled door — evidently leading to Dr. Bracegirdle’s private office, for a small brass plate was affixed to it, bearing his name. To her right was a huge open parlor, its windows heavily curtained and shuttered against the night. It was from here that the sounds of sociability echoed.

Natalie started down the hall toward the stairs. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of the parlor. Fully a dozen guests eddied about a large table, talking and gesturing with the animation of close acquaintance — with one another, and with the contents of the lavish array of bottles gracing the tabletop. A sudden whoop of laughter indicated that at least one guest had abused the Doctor’s hospitality.

Natalie passed the entry hastily, so as not to be observed, then glanced behind her to make sure that Miss Plummer was following with her bag. Miss Plummer was indeed following, but her hands were empty. And as Natalie reached the stairs, Miss Plummer shook her head.

“You didn’t mean to go up now, did you?” she murmured. “Come in and introduce yourself.”

“I thought I might freshen up a bit first.”

“Let me go on ahead and get your room in order. Doctor didn’t give me notice, you know.”

“Really, it’s not necessary. I could do with a wash—”

“Doctor should be back any moment now. Do wait for him.” Miss Plummer grasped Natalie’s arm, and with the same speed and expedition she had bestowed on driving, she steered the girl forward into the lighted room.

“Here’s Doctor’s niece,” she announced. “Miss Natalie Rivers, from Australia.”

Several heads turned in Natalie’s direction, though Miss Plummer’s voice had scarcely penetrated the general conversational din. A short, jolly-looking fat man bobbed toward Natalie, waving a half-empty glass.

“All the way from Australia, eh?” He extended his goblet. “You must be thirsty. Here, take this, I’ll get another.” And before Natalie could reply, he turned and plunged back into the group around the table.

“Major Hamilton,” Miss Plummer whispered. “A dear soul, really. Though I’m afraid he’s just a wee bit squiffy.”

As Miss Plummer moved away, Natalie glanced uncertainly at the glass in her hand. She was not quite sure where to dispose of it.

“Allow me.” A tall, gray-haired and quite distinguished-looking man with a black mustache moved forward and took the stemware from between her fingers.

“Thank you.”

“Not at all. I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse the major. The party spirit, you know.” He nodded, indicating a woman in extreme décolletage chattering animatedly to a group of three laughing men. “But since it’s by way of being a farewell celebration—”

“Ah, there you are!” The short man whom Miss Plummer had identified as Major Hamilton bounced back into orbit around Natalie, a fresh drink in his hand and a fresh smile on his ruddy face. “I’m back again,” he announced. “Just like a boomerang, eh?”

He laughed explosively, then paused. “I say, you do have boomerangs in Australia? Saw quite a bit of you Aussies at Gallipoli. Of course that was some time ago, before your time, I daresay—”

“Please, Major.” The tall man smiled at Natalie. There was something reassuring about his presence, and something oddly familiar too. Natalie wondered where she might have seen him before. She watched while he moved over to the Major and removed the drink from his hand.

“Now see here—” the major sputtered.

“You’ve had enough, old boy. And it’s almost time for you to go.”

“One for the road—” The Major glanced around, his hands waving in appeal. “Everyone else is drinking!” He made a lunge for his glass, but the tall man evaded him. Smiling at Natalie over his shoulder, he drew the Major to one side and began to mutter to him earnestly in low tones. The Major nodded exaggeratedly, drunkenly.

Natalie looked around the room. Nobody was paying the least attention to her except one elderly woman who sat quite alone on a stool before the piano. She regarded Natalie with a fixed stare that made her feel like an intruder on a gala scene. Natalie turned away hastily and again caught sight of the woman in décolletage. She suddenly remembered her own desire to change her clothing and peered at the doorway, seeking Miss Plummer. But Miss Plummer was nowhere to be seen.

Walking back into the hall, she peered up the staircase.

“Miss Plummer!” she called.

There was no response.

Then from out of the corner of her eye, she noted that the door of the room across the hallway was ajar. In fact, it was opening now, quite rapidly, and as Natalie stared, Miss Plummer came backing out of the room, carrying a pair of scissors in her hand. Before Natalie could call out again and attract her attention, Miss Plummer had scurried off in the other direction.

The people here, Natalie told herself, certainly seemed odd. But wasn’t that always the case with people at parties? She crossed before the stairs, meaning to follow Miss Plummer, but found herself halting before the open doorway.

She gazed in curiously at what was obviously her uncle’s consultation room. It was a cozy, book-lined study with heavy, leather-covered furniture grouped before the shelves. The psychiatric couch rested in one corner near the wall and near it was a large mahogany desk. The top of the desk was quite bare, save for a cradle telephone, and a thin brown loop snaking out from it.

Something about the loop disturbed Natalie and before she was conscious of her movement she was inside the room looking down at the desk-top and the brown cord from the phone.

And then she realized what had bothered her. The end of the cord had been neatly severed from its connection in the wall.

“Miss Plummer!” Natalie murmured, remembering the pair of scissors she’d seen her holding. But why would she have cut the phone cord?

Natalie turned just in time to observe the tall, distinguished-looking man enter the doorway behind her.

“The phone won’t be needed,” he said, as if he’d read her thoughts. “After all, I did tell you it was a farewell celebration.” And he gave a little chuckle.

Again Natalie sensed something strangely familiar about him, and this time it came to her. She’d heard the same chuckle over the phone, when she’d called from the station.

“You must be playing a joke!” she exclaimed. “You’re Dr. Bracegirdle, aren’t you?”

“No, my dear.” He shook his head as he moved past her across the room. “It’s just that no one expected you. We were about to leave when your call came. So we had to say something.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, “Where is my uncle?” Natalie asked at last.

“Over here.”

Natalie found herself standing beside the tall man, gazing down at what lay in a space between the couch and the wall. An instant was all she could bear.

“Messy,” the tall man nodded. “Of course it was all so sudden, the opportunity, I mean. And then they would get into the liquor—”

His voice echoed hollowly in the room and Natalie realized the sounds of the party had died away. She glanced up to see them all standing there in the doorway, watching.

Then their ranks parted and Miss Plummer came quickly into the room, wearing an incongruous fur wrap over the rumpled, ill-fitting uniform.

“Oh, my!” she gasped. “So you found him!”

Natalie nodded and took a step forward. “You’ve got to do something,” she said. “Please!”

“Of course, you didn’t see the others,” Miss Plummer said, “since they’re upstairs. The Doctor’s staff. Gruesome sight.”

The men and women had crowded into the room behind Miss Plummer, staring silently.

Natalie turned to them in appeal. “Why, it’s the work of a madman!” she cried. “He belongs in an asylum!”

“My dear child,” murmured Miss Plummer, as she quickly closed and locked the door and the silent starers moved forward. “This is an asylum...”