Wall of Eyes

Chapter 5

Kelsey was lying on the bed. The lamp was on and turned full on her face as if Ida had moved it to make sure she was dead.

Alice touched Kelsey’s forehead and her hand came away drenched with sweat.

“Kelsey,” she whispered. “Kelsey.”

The skin was warmed but there was no flutter of her eyelids, no movement of her breast.

She turned and saw Philip leaning against the door frame and behind him Ida, rolling her eyes.

“A mirror,” Alice said. “Fetch a mirror.”

“No!” Philip shouted. “Leave her alone. Leave Kelsey alone.”

Ida darted past his clutching hand and went to the bureau. She picked up the mirror and polished it with her apron as she walked toward the bed. Then she folded her arms over her breasts, waiting.

Alice held the mirror close to Kelsey’s face. A fine mist dulled the glass.

“What did I tell you?” Ida cried.

“She’s not dead,” Alice said quietly. “Tell Letty to...”

“This is Tuesday and Letty and Maurice went to the pictures.”

“Ida, get hot-water bottles. Philip, you’ll stay here? I must phone a doctor.”

“She is too dead!” Ida said. “I guess I seen lots of...”

She reeled back, holding her mouth where Alice had struck her.

“I’ve had enough from you,” Alice said. “Get downstairs.”

She pushed the girl out in front of her into the hall. Ida was crying now and muttering to herself as she lurched down the steps.

Alice went into the sitting room at the end of the hall and picked up the phone. She seemed calm and controlled now, she might have been phoning an old friend. Her fingers did not falter finding the numbers on the dial, Kingsley 2124.

He answered the phone himself. She recognized his voice.

“Dr. Loring? This is Alice Heath.”

“I remember,” he said. “Anything wrong?”

“Can you come out here right away? My... my sister — I think my sister is dying.”

“Dying? What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. She was all right two hours ago and now she’s like this, in a coma.”

“Coma,” he said. “Any heart history?”

“No.”

“Diabetes, catalepsy, anything like that in her history?”

“No.”

“I’ll be right out. Ten minutes.”

She hung up and went back to Kelsey’s room. Philip was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, his face pressed against one of Kelsey’s hands.

“Get up!” Her voice rasped across the room. “Haven’t you any sense? You might do her some harm.”

He turned his head slowly and looked at her, his eyes dazed. “You, Alice?”

“Get out of here,” she said harshly. “The doctor is coming in a minute.”

He didn’t move. She went over and pulled him to his feet. Her thin fingers dug into his shoulders. It gave her bitter pleasure to hurt him and see him wince.

“I’m tired of fools!” she said violently. “Go downstairs and tell John to let the doctor in when he comes. Maurice is out. And you... you’d better go out, too. Go and walk somewhere. Do you understand?”

He nodded wearily. “Walk somewhere. Yes.”

“You’ll feel better,” she said, more softly.

When he had gone she pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down to wait. Her hands were folded quietly in her lap, her back was stiff and straight. She was so intent on holding the pose that she didn’t hear Loring come into the room.

Seeing her, he thought, smiling, She’s still at it. But he was a little touched because he saw that she was smaller than he remembered her.

“Good evening.”

“Oh.” She started. “Good evening.”

She got up and gave him the chair beside the bed. He sat down with his instrument bag across his knees and took Kelsey’s wrist in his hand;

“Dr. Loring...”

Frowning, he reached over and raised one of Kelsey’s eyelids.

“What’s wrong with her, Dr. Loring?”

He didn’t answer her directly. He said, “Go and phone the General Hospital and ask for Hale, the chief pathologist. Tell him to come out here prepared to give a caffeine intravenous and a stomach wash for morphine poisoning. Got that?”

She nodded but couldn’t speak.

“Now I want blankets and hot-water bottles. Where are the servants?”

“I’ve sent for the hot-water bottles,” she said in a whisper. “There are blankets in the closet.”

“Good. Hale at the General. Tell him it’s an overdose of morphine. Please hurry.”

Alice stood in the hall for a long time. On the other side of the closed door she could hear noises, a gasp, a muffled groan, the clink of metal, a liquid gurgle, a sharp command. Then the door opened and Dr. Hale was in the hall, unruffled, cheerful.

“She’ll be all right,” he said.

Under his smile Alice could see the question flickering in his eyes. How did she get the morphine?

But he didn’t say it. He walked briskly down the steps whistling under his breath.

Alice went slowly to the door. The nurse was cleaning up the room. Loring was standing beside the bed looking down at Kelsey.

“Pupils expanding,” he said to Miss Keller.

“That’s good,” Miss Keller said. “Good night, doctor. Good night, Miss Heath.”

She went out. Loring picked up his coat from the floor and began to put it on, awkwardly, as if his muscles were stiff.

Alice said, “Doctor...”

“We’ll talk downstairs,” he said wearily. “She’s sleeping naturally and we may wake her.”

He checked the contents of his bag, closed it and walked to the door. Downstairs they passed the open door of the drawing room and saw Johnny huddled in a chair in front of the fire.

Alice started to go in but Loring held her back.

“I’d prefer to talk to you alone,” he said.

“Very well,” Alice said. “Come in here.”

She switched on a light and a small, book-lined room sprang out of the darkness. But Loring didn’t look at the books, he was watching Alice. He saw the hostility in her eyes, as if the sudden glare of the lights hadn’t given her time to hide it.

He had expected the hostility. It was the regular reaction of his patients’ relatives to himself. Because he was a psychiatrist he was held responsible for the need of a psychiatrist. A case of supply creating demand, he thought grimly.

Yes, the hostility could be explained easily enough. It was Alice’s fear that puzzled him, and the wariness in her voice.

“Do you think — she took it herself?”

He sat down without haste and glanced around the room. “Has she ever talked about killing herself?”

“Not... not seriously.”

He raised his brows. “How can you be sure whether it was serious or not? A grain or more of morphine is in my opinion very serious indeed. I suppose you know this will have to be reported to the police?”

“Yes,” she whispered, “I know. They couldn’t arrest her?”

“They wouldn’t send her to jail,” Loring said. “They might have her committed to an institution.”

“Oh, no! They wouldn’t, they couldn’t!”

“Unless someone else gave it to her,” he said quietly. “Nobody gave it to her. Please, you mustn’t think that. Nobody could have given it to her.”

He stared at her. “Why not? It’s simple enough to give morphine by mouth in food or drink. Statistically I believe it’s the doctor’s favorite method of homicide. Was there a supply in the house?”

“Not recently.”

“When?”

“When my mother was sick we had some for the nurse to give her.”

“What happened to it?”

“I don’t know. You don’t think of small things like that when...”

“Nurses do, or are supposed to. What was the nurse’s name?”

“Miss Alison. Letty used to help too, but Miss Alison was in charge.”

“I want to talk to Letty,” Loring said.

“She went out. She ought to be back soon.”

“Through what doctor did you get Miss Alison?”

“Dr. Beringer in the Medical Arts.”

Loring took out an envelope and wrote the names on it. “This maid,” he said, “this girl Ida. She was with your sister, you said?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Kelsey wanted her around. I think... I think Ida reads her teacup and tells her fortune. That’s what started the friendship. No, not friendship, exactly.”

“Collusion,” Loring said.

“Yes, that’s the word.”

“May I see Ida?”

“No,” she said sharply. “It wouldn’t do any good. She’s too stupid to have noticed anything.”

“Besides, it might humiliate you, eh? You’d rather have the police question her?”

“Why do they have to?”

“Because,” Loring said, “your sister is blind. Someone gave her the morphine. Even if she took it herself someone helped her.”

She was silent for a long time. Then she raised her head and looked at him listlessly. “All right. Ring the bell.”

It was five minutes before Ida came in, blowsy and disheveled in her wrinkled uniform. When she saw Loring her mouth fell open and she stepped back into the hall.

“Come in here,” Loring said, “and close the door.”

She sidled in, twisting her apron, and stood against the wall.

“I don’t know anything,” she said sullenly. “It wasn’t my fault. I just thought she died by the hand of God.”

“You took her tray up?”

“Sure. Being she wasn’t going down she ate early, about half-past six. Some gooey stuff made out of chicken and mushrooms. The cook makes it for her special. And tea, on account of I was to read her teacup.”

“A sideline of yours?” Loring asked dryly.

She tossed her head at him. “A lot of smart people aren’t so smart about some things! My mother taught me to read teacups. She never failed. She was a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter and if she was in the dark you could see the sparks fly out of her. She couldn’t even go to school when she was a kid because spirits rapped on her desk and the teachers were scared. The teachers were scared and teachers are just about as smart as anybody.”

“You’ve been drinking,” Alice said.

“I got a toothache,” Ida cried. “I guess I got a right to get rid of a toothache, especially since I didn’t touch none of your stuff.” She turned to Loring and winked. “They got it padlocked. Can you beat it?”

Loring smiled slightly. “What did you see in Miss Heath’s teacup?”

Ida rolled her eyes. “Money. Money with a curse on it, evil money. And a trip, a long long trip, maybe the kind you never come back from. I thought of that since, it seemed to fit so good. And a man was there too, a dark man.”

“Ida!” Alice said. “Don’t lie to Dr. Loring.”

“There was too a dark man! He was standing right beside the long trip and the money was there lying all around his feet.”

“Do we have to listen to this raving?” Alice said coldly. “Stick to the facts.”

“Facts,” Ida said. “It was a fact, wasn’t it, about the rapping of the desks so my mother had to stop school which is why she never had any education and me neither. That was a fact.”

Loring said, “Did Miss Heath complain about the food or the tea?”

“Oh, sure, she always did. She said the tea tasted bitter. So I said, well naturally, what can you expect with that man Hitler sinking everything. I said, you’re lucky to have any tea, which she is too, because the cook gives up her coupons to Miss Kelsey every week. So Miss Kelsey gets twenty-four cups every week instead of twelve and a half, which I read them all, no, twenty-five.”

“Did you take the tray directly from the kitchen?”

“No,” Ida said scornfully. “I always take it for a walk around the block first to give it some fresh air”

“Then no one had access to the tray except the cook and yourself and Miss Heath?”

“And God.” Ida moved closer to Loring and he got a strong whiff of brandy. “Yeah, I know you people what they call smart don’t believe in God. But if you could ever of seen them sparks!”

Alice turned to Loring. “She’s drunk, you can see that. It’s quite useless going on with this farce. Couldn’t you come back tomorrow?”

“Drunk, am I,” Ida lurched across the room and stuck her face into Alice’s. “Well, why am I drunk, besides the toothache I mean? Because I got things inside me like my mother had, only not sparks. It’s just a knowing. When she closed her eyes up there tonight I knew she was for it, I knew she was going to die. A long trip, a long long trip.”

“That’s enough,” Loring said curtly. “If I can’t get any information from you, the police can and will. She was poisoned.”

“Poisoned!” Ida stretched out her hands to him. “I never did anything to her, mister! I never did it. She’s my only friend in this house!”

“Sit down.” He pushed her into a chair and towered over her. “Did she ask you to bring her anything, any pills that she’d hidden, perhaps?”

“No, no, I never did! No!”

“Did she ask you to?”

“No!”

“Did she tell you she was feeling ill?”

“Sleepy, she said. She said she was sleepy. And then she laid there like someone had turned out the lights in her and I knew she was dead.”

“Don’t let her talk like that!” Alice cried. “Kelsey isn’t dead. She’s all right, you said she was going to be all right!”

Loring went over and took her hand. “Go upstairs and stay with her if you’re worried.”

“Shouldn’t ought to leave her alone anyway,” Ida said aggressively. “My only friend in this house which the others in it look down their noses...”

Alice closed the door. She had to stand in the hall a minute until her legs stopped shaking and her tears were forced back behind her eyes.

The police were going to come, as they had come the other time.

Mr. Heath, tell the court where you first met the deceased, Geraldine Smith.

Had there been any liquor consumed, Mr. Heath?

You and Miss Smith were riding in the rumbleseat, Mr. Heath. Go on.

Mr. James, you tell the court...

The court extends its sympathy...

She walked across the hall into the drawing room. Johnny was still huddled in the chair and when he looked up she knew by the glassiness of his eyes that he had been drinking steadily.

He’s remembering too, Alice thought, he’s thinking of Geraldine.

“Where’s Father?” she asked.

“I went up to tell him,” Johnny said. “He wasn’t in his room. Is she all right?”

“She will be.”

“How much did she take?”

“Over a grain.”

“Where did she get it for God’s sake? And why would she want to kill herself for God’s sake?”

“Better stop drinking now, John,” Alice said.

“Going to send me out for a walk, too?” he said in a hard voice.

“I sent Philip out because he was upset. I thought he would feel better if he had some fresh air. You could do with some too. Might sober you up.”

“I’m not...”

“I’m going upstairs to sit with Kelsey. Don’t come up.”

In Kelsey’s room she sat beside the bed for a long time, not thinking at all. Already her mind was closing over the fresh wounds, sewing the edges together, so that there was only a dull ache which spread over her whole body and seemed to have no source.

Kelsey was breathing naturally and evenly. Once she moved her hand on the covers and sighed and turned her head toward the light, as if to remind Alice: See me, how young, how pretty; see the curve of my shoulder, the firm breast, the flushed cheek. These are nothing to me, I want to die...

The clock in the hall struck twelve. Kelsey stirred again.

Alice bent over her. “Kelsey?”

“Aaah,” Kelsey sighed, the sound of her father, the infinitely tired sound that was almost a groan. “Aaah...”

“It’s me, it’s Alice.”

“Alice.” Her voice was soft and tattered like torn chiffon. It brushed against Alice and she felt it but didn’t hear it.

“How do you feel, Kelsey?”

“Philip...”

“Oh, Philip’s all right,” Alice said eagerly. “He won’t be leaving. He’s going to stay. Is that why you did it?”

“No... no.”

“What? I didn’t hear you, Kelsey.”

“Dead.”

“But you’re not dead, darling! You’re going to be all right again!”

“Came back.”

“Of course, of course you came back! Mustn’t talk now. You’re tired.”

Kelsey’s hands plucked at the covers. Alice caught them in her own. “Please. Be quiet. Try and rest.”

“I know — what to do.”

A voice, a thin thread like a spider’s web spun from a long way off, broken by a breeze. “Aaaah...”