The Madman's Room

‘I see that your passion for mysteries hasn’t waned.’

‘No, because it’s also my profession. I’ve just opened a detective agency near Piccadilly, together with a colleague. Our door hasn’t exactly been beaten down so far, but we haven’t lost hope.’

‘But that’s wonderful!’ exclaimed Paula. ‘In any case, I never imagined you as anything else: detective — official or private — writer of detective stories, or… criminal!’

‘That’s true,’ admitted Patrick. ‘I’ve always been fascinated by anything involving mysteries, tragedies or strange situations.’

He stopped when he realised that Paula was looking at him curiously. She replied with a mischievous smile:

‘Mysteries or strange situations, you said?’

Patrick stood still and took White Camellia’s hand.

‘Let’s leave it at that, for now, and go back to your story. Obviously, the predictions are mysterious enough, but….’

‘But?’

‘It’s Harvey’s death which intrigues me the most. What with that damp patch in the carpet and the water in the glass as well….’

‘Wait to hear what comes next,’ said Paula with a sigh. ‘I saw that glass of water myself….’

Patrick opened his mouth to speak but Paula cut him off.

‘It must have been around two o’clock in the morning. Everyone was asleep. At least, that’s what I thought as I left my room. I’d just woken from a nightmare and my throat was dry. I was making my way to the bathroom when I saw a light under Brian’s door.’

‘And, curious as you are by nature, you looked through the keyhole!’

‘Yes, and guess what I saw. Brian, seated at his desk, staring at a large glass in front of him, filled to the brim with water!’

8

‘Obviously,’ continued Paula, ‘I can’t be sure it was water, but that’s what it looked like.’

‘Strange,’ murmured Blue Reed.

‘Up until then, things had been going relatively well,’ said Paula, her voice changed. ‘About a fortnight ago, at dinner, Harris announced his intention to open Harvey’s old room and turn it into a study.’

Patrick thought for a moment.

‘And I imagine Brian didn’t exactly bless the project?’

‘You should have seen him, he went as white as a sheet. He stood up and gave Harris a look which put fear into all of us. In a deathly silence, he pointed a trembling finger at his brother: “Don’t do it Harris, don’t ever do it, or you’ll bring misfortune down on you.” At the time, Harris didn’t flinch. It was obvious that he must have remembered the sinister prophecies of his great-uncle, however, because after his deafening outburst of laughter he made a curious remark: “And even if I did die, Brian, that wouldn’t necessarily mean that I was dead.”

‘In any case, he moved into his new study a few days later without making any modifications, other than the door, of course, to replace the sealed panel. The Mindens spent two days airing it, cleaning it, and removing the cobwebs.’

Paula paused and pulled a face.

‘And since that day, everything’s gone to pieces at Hatton Manor. Nothing specific, but you can sense everyone’s on edge. Sarah and Harris can’t stop quarrelling, to the point that Francis almost intervened one night. No, it’s not what you think. Harris isn’t a tyrant. He has a strong character which clashes with Sarah’s: impulsive, jealous for no good reason… but he’s a decent man, sensitive, warm and even funny. This morning Sarah was taken ill — apparently she’s always had a heart murmur — so Francis left for Coventry by himself. Dr. Meadows confirmed that there was nothing to worry about: that she needed rest, but it was above all the extreme heat which had affected her. Harris was beside himself, convinced that he was responsible for his wife’s condition. But by lunchtime all was well and Sarah was her usual smiling self.’

There was a silence, except for the birds twittering.

‘Hm!’ exclaimed Patrick. ‘That’s not much help. I don’t know how to begin to formulate any kind of hypothesis about the presence of that mysterious glass of water. How long did you watch Brian through the keyhole?’

‘Twenty or thirty seconds, maybe.’

‘And what was he doing? Can you describe how he looked at it?’

‘He sat completely still and looked at it… how to put it? With great intensity, as if there was something vitally important to see there.’

Patrick though for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.

Whereupon White Camellia and Blue Reed changed the subject.

An hour later they arranged one final meeting for the following night at eight o’clock, after which Patrick, who had taken a room for two nights at the village inn, was due to return to London.

The next day, Saturday, was humid and stormy. The evening meal was over by half past seven and Paula was the first to leave the table. At eight o’clock sharp, Mostyn announced Bessie Blount and Mike Meadows, who had been invited for a game of bridge, and led them into the salon. Twenty minutes later Francis was looking for his wife. On the upstairs floor he ran into Brian in the corridor, which echoed with the sound of loud voices being raised.