WHO KILLED CHARMIAN KARSLAKE? (Murder Mystery Classic). Annie Haynes

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      "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

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      A policeman stood before the room in which Charmian Karslake had been murdered. He saluted as the inspector and Harbord came up.

      "Anyone been here since you came?" the inspector said, looking at the smashed door which had been pushed back on one side.

      "No, sir."

      The inspector frowned, looking into the room. It was obvious that Charmian Karslake had not yielded up her life without a struggle.

      "Some sounds surely ought to have been heard," he said. The furniture was overturned, the ornaments from the mantelpiece and the knick-knacks from the dressing-table lay about in the direst confusion.

      As was the case in most of the rooms in the Abbey, the floor was polished and beautiful old rugs were laid beside the bed, before the fire-place and the window. These were tossed aside, the silk eiderdown lay upon the floor. Quite evidently the bed had not been slept in, but in the struggle the bed-clothes had been torn off and lay half on the ground. Where Charmian Karslake had fallen the pool of blood, even now hardly dry, lay on the floor, and the rug beyond was stained at the edges.

      The inspector looked around. "Not a great deal to be learned here at first sight, eh?"

      Harbord did not answer. He was giving all his attention to the door, examining the lock with care. The panels of the door had been forced and the lock hung useless, but still locked. The bolts on the inside had not even been shot. Of the key there was no sign. Harbord was examining the door handle and the lock through his microscope. The inspector stepped past him and went over to the dressing-table. The necklace of pearls still lay there, and there were the usual accessories. After a cursory glance the inspector went to the dressing-room. Here poor Charmian Karslake's gold frock lay over the back of a chair as she had thrown it. He went across and felt it over. Harbord came in and stood beside him.

      "You won't find anything, sir. All the women have given up pockets, confound them!"

      "Yes. And the bags they carry instead they never can remember," the inspector added. "It is always—'Where is my bag?' What they do it for I can't imagine. Fancy a man having his pockets fastened up and carrying his keys and money and everything in a bag which he dangles about by the handle."

      "Some of 'em haven't got handles either," Harbord said, as his sharp eyes glanced about the room. "My sister's hasn't. She just carries it about tucked under her arm, a pochette she calls it. She told me handles had gone out of fashion, the other day."

      "So have brains, I should imagine," grumbled the inspector.

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