They carried Pete into the passage and laid him face down on the floor. Conrad knelt astride him and began giving him artificial respiration.
Pete’s personal guards had come out of Pete’s bedroom and were standing, watching.
O’Brien leaned against the wall. The strength had gone out of his legs, and it was as much as he could do to stand upright.
Conrad worked steadily.
No one moved or spoke. Thunder continued to roll and rumble in the distance. The rain was falling less heavily now.
At the end of a quarter of an hour, Conrad sat back on his heels. His finger touched the artery in Pete’s neck. He shook his head.
“I’m afraid he’s gone. Here, Wilson, you take over. Keep at it. You other two relieve him.”
The guard came over and knelt astride Pete’s lifeless body. He continued the rhythmic pressure on Pete’s back.
Conrad went into the bathroom. O’Brien came to the door and watched him.
Conrad began a systematic search of the bathroom.
“There’s blood on the taps,” he said. “He must have slipped and caught his head, lost consciousness and went under.”
“Yeah,” O’Brien said. “The water was too hot.”
Conrad straightened and stared up at the window. The puzzled, searching expression in his eyes sent a chill up O’Brien’s spine.
“What are you looking at?” he demanded.
“I was wondering if he did faint in his bath. He might have been got at.”
“For Pete’s sake! How?”
“Yes — how?” Conrad said, and ran his fingers through his hair. “There was no one hiding in here. If someone tried to get through the window Weiner would have had time to yell.” He turned quickly and stared at O’Brien. “I did think I heard him call out.”
“I didn’t; besides, no one could get through the window. It’s too small. Even a dwarf would have to struggle, and Weiner would have had time to come out.”
“Yes, I guess that’s right,” Conrad said after a moment’s thought. He went out into the passage again. “Any sign of life?” he asked Wilson, who shook his head.
“He’s gone, sir. The hot water in his lungs would have finished him quicker than anything.”
One of the guards brought a blanket and spread it over Pete’s body.
“Well, that’s that,” Conrad said in disgust. “After all the trouble we’ve taken to keep him safe from Maurer, he has to die accidentally.”
He heard a sound behind him and looked over his shoulder.
Frances’s door was open and she was standing in the doorway looking down at Pete.
“Is he dead?” she asked as Conrad went quickly to her.
“Yes, he’s dead. Go back to your room, please. There’s nothing you can do.”
There was an expression of stricken horror in her eyes that frightened Conrad. Every scrap of colour had left her face.
“How did it happen?”
“He fainted in his bath. The water was too hot.”
“Fainted in his bath?” she repeated slowly. “Are you trying to tell me it was an accident?”
“It was an accident all right. Now please go into your room.”
Madge came to the door and put her hand on Frances’s arm, but Frances stepped away from her. She continued to look at Conrad, her eyes glittering. ,
“That man murdered him! Pete said he would do it, and he’s done it! Pete knew he was going to die. He said one of you would sell him out! That’s how they got at him! He knew it was going to happen! He knew it!” She began to cry, tears running down her white face. “He said even you could sell him out!”
“You mustn’t talk like that!” Conrad said sharply. “It was an accident. No one could have got at him. Sergeant O’Brien and I were outside the door the whole time. No one could get in through the window. The water was too hot, he fainted and hit his head on the taps.”
She stared at him, her lips trembling.
“Do you really believe that?”
“That’s how it happened.”
“But it didn’t! He was murdered! You’re not going to let this man get away with it, are you? You can’t let him get away with it!”
“What man are you talking about?” Conrad said, a creepy sensation going up his spine.
“Maurer! Maurer did this! Pete said he was going to do it, and he’s done it!”
“Maurer didn’t kill Werner,” Conrad said patiently. “You’re just guessing. It was an accident.”
“But he did do it!”
“Now look, please go and lie down. You’re upset, and I understand that. You must leave this to us to handle. No one could possibly have got at Weiner. I’m sure of that.”
Frances stood for a long moment staring at Conrad, her fists clenched, and as he watched her, she seemed to grow older before his eyes, and her face hardened until he scarcely recognized her.
“I’m going to tell you something,” she said in a quiet fierce voice. “Maurer must pay for this. I don’t care now what happens to me. I’ll give the evidence you want. I did see Maurer at Dead End! He did murder June Arnot! I saw him do it!”
IV
Charles Forest and Captain McCann got out of the police car and ran up the steps to the verandah of the hunting lodge, their shoulders hunched against the rain.
Conrad came out to meet them.
The three men walked into the big lounge, and as McCann pulled off his raincoat, Conrad said. “She’s going to talk! We’ve got Maurer where we want him at last! She actually saw him do the job!”
McCann paused, his arm half in and half out of his coat, and he glared at Conrad. His fleshy face turned purple and his small eyes gleamed redly.
“Then why the hell hasn’t she talked before?” he snarled.
“It’s quite a story,” Conrad returned. “Before we go up, you’d better hear it.”
McCann threw his coat into an armchair and walked with a slow heavy tread to the fireplace. If this was true, he thought, then Maurer was finished. McCann didn’t kid himself that Maurer would go to the chair without blowing the lid off the organization, nor would he keep quiet about the money he had paid McCann in the past.
McCann was alarmed, and he had difficulty not to show it.
“Are you sure she isn’t lying?” he said, clenching his fists behind his back.
“Yes, I’m sure of that,” Conrad returned, “but you can judge for yourself when you hear what she has to say.”
Forest sat down and took out his cigar-case.
“Tell me about Weiner first,” he said.
“There’s not much to tell,” Conrad said. “It was damned bad luck. He had a bath tonight. O’Brien and I took him to the bathroom, and O’Brien thoroughly searched the room before Weiner went in. We waited outside. After twenty minutes I called Weiner to come out, but he didn’t answer. We found the door locked. We broke it down and found him drowned in the bath. The Doc said he had a superficial injury at the back of his head. He thinks Weiner got into the bath, came over faint, tipped back and banged his head on the taps.”
“People usually face the taps when they take a bath,” Forest pointed out.
“Yes, but apparently Weiner didn’t. Anyway, he was dead by the time we got him out, and there was nothing we could do for him.”
“Are you quite sure no one could have got at him, Paul? It seems odd to me that the door was locked.”
“It seems odd to me, too, but I’m certain no one could have got into the bathroom while he was in it. The window is much too small. It would take a dwarf a good ten minutes to wriggle through, and in that time Weiner could have raised the alarm. No, I’m positive it was an accident.”
“Hmm, this has shot a big hole in our case,” Forest said. “We needed corroboration, and Weiner could have given it to us.”