The Madman's Room

‘Someone, the very sight of whom can terrify his victims? It must indeed be a creature of nightmare. Standing in front of the fireplace would mean anyone entering the room would see it immediately, which fits the facts. But, as far as I can recall, Sarah was looking down. And it didn’t rain that day. And there was nobody in the room, I’ll bet my life on it.’

‘I hate to say this,’ observed Howard, ‘but it was exactly the same situation just now, wasn’t it, Brian?’

Brian coughed, obviously ill at ease:

‘In any case, the windows were shut.’

‘Come to think of it, the lamp was lit and Francis certainly couldn’t have had time to do it.’

‘It was I who forgot to extinguish it,’ confessed Brian.

Meadows cleared his throat forcefully and declared:

‘It’s about time you explained to me under what circumstances you found Francis.’

Hilton spoke first. Then it was Brian’s turn, and he was at pains to explain the reason why he’d been in the study earlier. The mention of the hypothetical manuscript — and of Harvey Thorne — did nothing to relax the atmosphere.

‘Him again,’ Meadows couldn’t help saying. ‘But please go on, Brian.’

‘Mostyn announced your arrival at nine o’clock. I started to search all the bookshelves until about ten, with no result. I went back to my room discouraged and continued my research, just as Sarah had suggested. I stayed there about an hour….’

Meadows stopped him with a gesture.

‘Sarah showed me something once.’

So saying, he went over to the bookcase to the right of the fireplace, which he examined carefully.

‘I seem to remember there’s a pivoted panel leading to a storage area.’

Brian nodded and came to join him. He removed several books and slid his hand into the resulting space. Part of the shelving swung open and the three of them went into the storage area. Brian crossed the room and turned on a switch near the door leading to the corridor. There was so much furniture stacked there that the walls were almost hidden. Brian pointed to an open wardrobe with half its contents emptied in front of it, mainly books and old newspapers.

‘I was here when I heard the sound of a thud,’ he explained.

His remark didn’t seem to interest the doctor, who closed the pivoted panel. He tried in vain to reopen it.

‘It’s not possible,’ said Brian. ‘You can only activate it from the study side.’

Dr. Meadows gave Brian a thoughtful look and studied the panel again.

‘What happened next?’ he asked.

‘I was surprised, obviously, and I stood still with my ears open. I dimly heard someone call out and, ten seconds later, the call was repeated much louder and I recognised Mr. Hilton’s voice. I opened the door here and you know the rest.’

The young doctor nodded his head silently, crossed the room and opened the door. He went out into the corridor, followed by the others.

‘So the unknown visitor — whatever he or it was — only had about fifteen seconds to escape.’

‘Yes,’ replied Brian hesitantly. ‘But he must have done it on tiptoe. Apart from Mr. Hilton’s shouts, I heard absolutely nothing. And I’ve got very keen hearing.’

‘In any case,’ continued Meadows, pointing to the opening to the spiral staircase, ‘he could only have gone that way. Are we agreed?’

The others nodded and followed him down the stairs to a small tiled area, perfectly clean. Brian opened the door to the kitchen, turned on the light switch and observed that the kitchen, too, was immaculate. He went across the room to a cupboard at the other end which he opened and took out a torchlight which he handed to Meadows.

The doctor took it, unlocked the door to the outside and opened it.

The ray of the lamp swept the area around the door — which the rain had transformed into a mud bath — and the three men noted it was utterly devoid of any footprint.

‘It stopped raining at about ten o’clock,’ declared Meadows. ‘Which means that our fugitive, if he took this way out — and, as we’ve seen, there was no other choice — would unavoidably have left traces in this muck. What’s more, if he’d have tried to come in this way — even though I don’t see how he could have unlocked the door from the outside — he would just as unavoidably have left traces of his passage. Yet the floors are as clean as a whistle and there’s no mat on which he could have cleaned his muddy shoes.’

‘So, no real person,’ concluded Brian. ‘Harris should never have unsealed that room. Never….’

Far more than the damp and the cold, the tone of his voice made his companions shiver.

‘I did warn him,’ he continued, ‘and now you can see what’s happened since … That room possesses a terrible power. It killed Harvey and Harris and almost drove Sarah mad… and now Francis. It has to be sealed again, and as quickly as possible.’

There was a long silence.

‘If I understand correctly,’ declared Mike Meadows, eyeing Brian sceptically, ‘you predicted tonight’s incident as well?’

‘Correct.’

‘Just as you announced the death of your brother?’

‘As well.’