The Madman's Room

‘But that’s of no importance. Let’s go back to Sarah, who enters the study at a quarter past nine in the company of Dr. Meadows and Miss Blount, fully expecting to emit horrified shrieks upon discovering her husband in the place where he’s supposed to be. Sarah, who’s begun the day with a heart murmur, who’s still affected by the quarrel with her husband — whom she’s just killed accidentally almost an hour earlier — and who’s gathering all her strength to play a sensitive and difficult role. She opens the door and… horror of horrors: she doesn’t see anything! Her husband’s body, which should have been lying in front of the fireplace, has disappeared! Need I say more?’

‘No,’ mumbled Redfern. ‘Looked at from that point of view, everything seems clear.’

Hurst nodded his agreement with intense satisfaction. For once in his career, he wasn’t the one playing student to Twist’s teacher.

‘So much for the first act of the drama,’ continued Dr. Twist. ‘As the burial arrangements for Harris are being prepared, Francis’s little grey cells are working overtime. His sister’s now rich, but what does the future hold for him? Such a beautiful woman won’t remain a widow for long. And when she remarries, who knows what’ll happen? His twisted mind soon conceives a Machiavellian plan. His sister has to die before her second wedding, so that her fortune will revert to Francis and his parents — which is to say him, in practice. I won’t reveal the key to his sinister plan right now — Mr. Nolan will take care of that in a few minutes — all you need to know for the moment is that it required a small amount of preparation in the days following his brother-in-law’s death and a bit of regular maintenance afterwards.

‘The perfect crime he prepared is well worthy of such a description, for several reasons. Sarah’s death wouldn’t arouse any suspicion — as we’ve already seen. He wouldn’t run much of a risk before the fatal day, even if he were to be caught in the act. Nor afterwards, either. He might have difficulty justifying his actions, but in the eyes of the law it wouldn’t constitute a criminal offence. A perfect crime, then, but one which, curiously, isn’t enough to satisfy him. He wants to confuse the situation in a masterly fashion by arranging for his sisters’ forthcoming death to be announced by means of one of Brian’s notorious predictions. And in the meantime, he’ll amuse himself by reinforcing Brian’s reputation as a prophet. Give Francis his due: Brian’s predictions, following on those of Harvey, did muddle the case to such a degree that we didn’t know which way to turn in the face of such an avalanche of mysteries. Needless to say, he’ll also exploit the reputation of the “madman’s room,” not forgetting the detail of the wet carpet. In its way, it’s a masterpiece of misdirection, and Sarah’s death — a natural death, albeit caused by a diabolical machination — will seem perfectly understandable. She’ll be the tree hidden in the forest. The question to consider now is how Francis managed to lead Brian to make such prophecies.

‘And that takes us to the second act, which begins as soon as Francis learns that Sarah and Meadows have fallen for each other. Bound together as they are by the secret of her husband’s death, his sister hides nothing from him and so he’s fully aware of her feelings. To cut a long story short, he initiates the next phase of his plan, namely the fulfilment of two of Brian’s prophecies. The soothsayer announces that Francis will win a small fortune and also that he will suffer a small incident which will, in its own way, be a prelude to Sarah’s death. It’s quite clear by now that Francis’s fainting on the sill of the cursed room was staged, and that he deliberately hit his head on the doorframe to cause blood to flow and add a touch of realism to the proceedings. There was a row of pewter pots on the mantelpiece, one of which had been filled with water ahead of time. It was emptied onto the carpet just before the simulated fainting. I haven’t any proof of that, but it’s the only time the carpet could have been wetted.’

‘Fair enough,’ said the chief superintendent. ‘But what about winning on the horses? You’re not going to tell us it was pure luck, I hope?’

‘Obviously not. But ask yourself the question: is there any way to bet on horses to be absolutely certain to win?’

There was silence and then Patrick raised a finger:

‘There is a way. It’s very simple but very costly. You bet on all the horses.’

‘Bravo, young man, take a bow,’ replied Dr. Twist. ‘It cost him a large sum of money, but you must admit it was worth it. And he made sure there were witnesses present when he placed the bet, when he presented the winning ticket, and when he collected his prize, in case any sceptic demanded proof. He was determined to preserve Brian’s reputation as a seer of the first order.’

The chief superintendent wasn’t satisfied and regarded the criminologist with suspicion: