May 16, 2025 • 18 mins
Dive into the mysterious world of the Domino Club, where a case of opium poisoning is anything but simple. Following the murder of Dr. Weathered, our protagonist is plunged into a twisted game with stakes running high - a stolen case book that threatens the entirety of London society. Guided by Zenobia Salome, the Leopardess, and a poison unknown even to renowned expert Sir Frank Tarleton, the narrative unfolds through the eyes of an unwilling participant in this deadly charade. Unravel the mystery as we delve into the darkest corners of the human heart, exposing the dreadful lengths one might go to protect their secrets. This gripping detective story, with its unique psychoanalytical perspective, will keep you on the edge of your seat, challenging even the most seasoned mystery enthusiasts.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter nineteen of the Club of Masques. This is a
LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Read by Allison, The Club of Masques by Allan Upward,
the means to do ill deeds. The pale, weak woman
had suddenly been transformed in Tarleton's eyes into a heroine.
(00:24):
He saw in her someone greater than himself. He was
the official, salaried guardian of society, called upon to run
no risks that a brave man ought to fear. But
this forlorn woman, without a friend in whom she could
confide without support from public opinion or from the law,
had taken into her trembling hands the task of delivering
her sister women from a wretch whom neither opinion nor
(00:46):
the law could reach. Missus neobard, she had surely earned
her right to be called that now thanked the doctor
for his impulsive action with a look, But it was
not a look of triumph. She proceeded with her story
in the tone of a loser rather than a victor.
Miss Sebright told me that she had felt a longing
to become a mother, which she had no hope of satisfying,
(01:07):
because she suffered from a depravity a club foot. She
had been told as a child that no man would
ever want to marry her except for her money, and
the result had been to make her distrust every man
who came near her. It was a sad story, and
I'm afraid it is true of other women. Their self
distrust robs them of the happiness within their reach, if
they only knew it. The speaker sighed, as though contrasting
(01:29):
their fate with her own opposite mistake. She told me
she had come to my husband to have the longing
driven out of her mind, instead of which she had
persuaded her to become the mother of an illegitimate child
by a man whose name was not told her. The
child was never born happily or unhappily. I daren't say which.
But she had written letters that disclosed what she had done,
(01:50):
and now the doctor was holding them over her. He
hadn't gone so far as to demand money, but he
was compelling her to come or write to him every week,
and charging her high fees. She would rather have paid
a lump sum to end it. The persecution was driving
her out of her mind. The poor thing actually offered
me a thousand pounds. It was a sickening story. Hardened
(02:10):
as he was to the ways of criminals. Charleton listened
to it with nausea. I promised to find the letters
and return them to her if I could. I had
to go to work secretly. If I had said anything
to my husband, it would have put him on his
guard and he would have placed the letters somewhere out
of my reach. I spied on him till I saw
him one day through the keyhole, going to a cupboard
(02:31):
in the wall of his dressing room, the one you
found the consultant foreboard to correct her are saying that
the discovery had been made by Inspector Charles. Of course,
it was locked, and I had no key that would
open it. So I went to an ironmonger's one day
when the doctor was away for the week end, and
asked him to send a confidential man to open it.
I pretended that my husband had lost the key while
(02:51):
he was on a holiday and wanted something in the
cupboard to be sent to him. I don't know if
they believed me, but they said nothing, and they made
me a new key. In the same quiet way. She
went on, seeming to see nothing extraordinary in the patient
contrivance by which she had outwitted the schemer, who most
probably looked down upon her as a simple piece of
domestic furniture. In the cupboard she had found a mass
(03:13):
of correspondence, by no means, all of it from women,
but in almost every case containing painful and sometimes hideous
revelations of depraved and distorted natures. The horrified woman had
been obliged to leave a good deal unread. The letters
from each correspondent were neatly kept on a separate file,
marked with the number under which he or she wrote.
(03:33):
These numbers puzzled her at first, as they puzzled Tarleton himself,
but she had only to ask Miss Sebright for the explanation.
Several numbers were missing from the series. Either the writers
must have redeemed their rash confessions, or else they had
gone abroad or died and the papers had become valueless.
The real difficulty before missus Neobard had been to keep
her promise to Miss Sebright without the doctor's knowing that
(03:56):
his cupboard had been opened. Now she saw her way.
If the poor victim defied him, and he went to
look for her file and found it gone. He would
probably think he had destroyed it himself by mistake. He
wasn't always sober when he came in at night, the
unfortunate wife said, in a tone that breathed of her
past sufferings. I felt sure he couldn't suspect me or
any one of taking one set of letters and leaving
(04:18):
all the rest. Anyhow, I decided to risk it. I
took Miss Sebright's letters and sent them to her by
registered post. She wrote, thanking me very gratefully, but telling
me that she was dying, and asking me to go
and see her. I went more than once. It was
the sight of her sinking into her grave under my
husband's cruelty that nerved me to go on. I should
(04:39):
have returned all the other letters now, without caring what happened,
if I had known where to send them, but it
had no key to whom the numbers stood for. You
would have found that if you had looked in doctor
Weatherd's appointment book, Sir Frank told her. The widow opened
her eyes. I never thought of that. I see you
know how to find out everything, Sir Frank, stop me
if I am telling you anything you know already, The
(05:00):
consultant waved his hand courteously for her to go on.
Her story had held one surprise for him already, and
he foresaw that others were to come. I waited. I
now went to the cupboard every day when I knew
I was safe from interruption, to read any fresh letters
that had arrived, in the hope of finding something in
them that would give me a clue to the writer's identity.
At last, I found one in which the writer had
(05:22):
put her address at the head in the usual way.
I suppose she did it in forgetfulness. Charleton breathed softly
while he waited for the name he was pretty certain
of hearing. The address was Carlyle Square, Chelsea. I looked
it up in the directory and found she was a
Missus Baker. Have you heard of her before? Missus Neobard
gave him an imploring look. I knew her brother, the
late Captain Armstrong, the specialist said, without answering the question directly,
(05:46):
Please tell me everything. Missus Neobard made an effort and
went on. I was disappointed in a sense to find
that her letters weren't worth returning to her. There was
nothing in them that any one could make use of
to harm her. As far as I could see, she
was a very foolish woman with fads. She had come
to my husband out of mere curiosity, I should think,
and he had played on her weakness. He had pretended
(06:08):
that she was secretly longing to commit a murder, and
the silly woman believed him. She seemed rather proud of
it than otherwise. I suppose it gave her a feeling
of self importance to think of herself as a possible
missus Maybrick. In one of her letters, she compared herself
with Melotti in The Three Musketeers. It was so exactly
in keeping with his own impression of the queer little
woman in Carlyle Square that Charleton gave a nod of satisfaction. Ah,
(06:32):
I see you do know her, but I suppose you
won't tell me how much you know. The physician was
obliged to shake his head. You could not trust me yourself, ma'am.
If I did, I suppose you are right, she admitted, regretfully. Well,
I went on reading this miss Baker's letters on the
chance of finding something serious in them, and at last
there was he had prompted her to think out plans
for committing a murder, and she was actually sending them
(06:55):
to him. A gasp drew Charlton's attention to Sarah Neerbard,
who had sat hitherto listening in silence. Now she seemed
roused to a sense of impending tragedy, and gazed at
her mother with dilated eyes. The widow directed a swift
glance at her and withdrew it instantly. You can understand
my terrible position, Sir Frank. My eyes had been open
to my husband's character. I don't say that he had
(07:17):
always been a bad man, but he had become one
by now. I had the proof under my eyes that
he was a criminal and a danger to society. And
here he was discussing plots of murder with a weak,
silly woman who seemed to be under his thumb. Judging
from her letters, she was quite capable of committing a
murder out of vanity, just to give herself the feeling
that she was an extraordinary person. The consultant did not
(07:39):
credit this, but he was not there to defend missus Baker,
and he did not want to interrupt. I felt that
if she did commit a crime. She would be doing
it as my husband's instrument, as much as if he
had hypnotized her, and that I must find some way
to prevent it. Then, while I was wondering how to interfere,
a letter came in in which she said she had
a bottle of poison in her possession, a poison unknown
(08:01):
to the medical profession, that her brother had brought with
him from Sumatra. But I expect you know about that.
I know the poison you speak of. Certainly the brother
sold me a quantity of it. He professed it was
all he had brought to England. He deceived you. Then
in the next letter, she described exactly where she kept
the poison and a chiffonier in her drawing room, within
reach of the first caller. She boasted that she kept
(08:23):
it under lock and key, but almost any one could
pick a lock like that, as even I could see.
Of course, I knew from that moment that the poison
was within my husband's reach, and I felt sure he
meant to take it. Why else should he have asked
about it so particularly? What did it matter to him
where it was kept unless he wanted it himself. I
quite agree with you, said the specialist, seeing that he
(08:43):
was expected to reply. Now you see where I stood.
I knew that my husband was capable of committing a
murder if he had anything to gain by it, And
now I knew that he was actually scheming to obtain
a poison that couldn't be detected. I don't think missus
Baker had an idea that her brother had parted with
some to you, she wrote, as though her bottle held
all there was, And who was it that he was
(09:05):
thinking of murdering? I couldn't see any one but myself mother.
The word burst from Sara's agonized lips. If she had
retained any lingering softness for the dead man, it must
have expired in that cry. Her mother did not turn
her head. I had to defend myself. I couldn't prevent
him from taking the poison in any other way that
I could think of. I went to missus Baker's house
(09:25):
and stole the bottle. You were quite right, the physician agreed. Again.
I had no difficulty. I took a bunch of all
the keys I could find in the house, keys of
wardrobes and drawers and boxes of different sizes, and went
round to the square. I walked up and down till
I had seen a woman who looked like the mistress
of the house come out. And then I knocked and
asked to be allowed to wait upstairs. I gave some
(09:47):
common name. She put her hand to her forehead. That's strange,
I can't remember the name well. Almost the first key
I tried opened the chiffonier, and there stood the bottle,
just as she had described it. I put it into
my pocket, came away. Whatever theory Sir Frank had formed
as to the case, it had certainly not included this incident.
He had thought it possible that, after whether it had
(10:08):
carried off the bottle, his wife had found it and
taken it in turn from him. He had never conjectured
that the feeble looking woman had been brave and cool
enough to checkmate her husband in advance like this. For
the moment I felt safe, Missus Dinobard went on steadily.
But how long could I expect to be from such
a husband as mine. He was a doctor, and it
was easy for him to obtain other poisons. He would
(10:29):
have had to do that in any case, I think,
as it turned out, Missus Baker quarreled with him soon
after because he had advised her to kill a favorite cat.
She refused to have anything more to do with him,
and as her letters were more damaging to him than
to her, he had no hold on her. I soon
found that he had destroyed them. This was another new
light for the consultant, and it prepared him for what
(10:50):
was to come next. It seemed to me that my
only chance of escape was to leave him. But what
reason could I give to the world for doing so.
I had nothing to complain of as far as his
treatment of me was concerned. He was always perfectly courteous.
We were on friendly terms Outwardly. I couldn't prove that
he had been unfaithful to me. I wasn't even sure
in my own mind that he had been. Yet, although
(11:10):
the letter showed me that he was pursuing one of
his victims, what could I say? Was I to denounce
him publicly as a scoundrel and produce the letters. I
might have ruined dozens of innocent men and women, and
I might fail. I might find that the world sided
with him instead of me. I knew him well enough
to know exactly what he would do. He would say
that I had spied on his professional work, that I
(11:31):
had pried into the secrets of his patients, and that
jealousy had made me insane, and he would have found
plenty of people to believe him. A wife who portrays
her husband is not likely to be forgiven. If I
left him, I doubted if my own daughter would have
come with me. This was the first allusion the mother
had made to her daughter's unhappy infatuation, and it was
the last one. Sarah had begun to cry quietly. Now
(11:53):
missus Neobard put out her hand again and took her
child's You won't expect me to give you all my
reasons for deciding that I must act as I did,
Sir Frank. Perhaps you will think I really was insane.
I don't know. After reading some of those letters that
I found, I sometimes feel it difficult to say who
is sane and who isn't. I can only say I
thought over everything time after time, as quietly as I could,
(12:15):
and I always came to the same conclusion. I think
what stuck in my mind most of all was the
death of poor miss Sebright. There was no doubt that
he had murdered her, as surely as if he had
given her arsenic I thought he ought to die. She
said it without an effort, as though it were the
most natural conclusion in the world. It looked like a
providence to me that I had the poison ready. It
(12:35):
was his own doing. You see, he had helped me
to it through wanting it himself for his own wicked ends.
I had taken it in self defense, and there it
was ready to be used. The listener remembered Shakespeare's lines,
though he refrained from quoting them. How Oft, the sight
of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done.
The master of human nature had anticipated the excuse of
(12:56):
many King John's, and in this case the excuse seemed genuine.
In fact, the widow did not speak as though she
meant to excuse herself. She seemed to be simply explaining
the sequence of her thoughts. Then I came to a
new difficulty that I had never expected. I found I
couldn't do it. It sounded like confession. There was far
more of apology in the tone with which she said
(13:16):
this than there had been in her whole previous statement.
For the first time, there was moisture in her eyes.
I had believed in him once I had loved him.
She broke down and ceased for a few moments. Charleton
watched her with real pity. I dare say, you will
find it difficult to understand me, sir Frank, but I
think most wives would. I hadn't changed my mind. I
was still quite firm in believing that it was right
(13:38):
to put an end to my husband. But I had
to find some one else to do it. The consultant nodded.
It was all plain to him. Now. His theory had
not been very far wrong. After all. I decided that
I must try to discover one of his victims, one
of the men who had confessed their secrets to him
and were suffering in consequence, and give the poison to him.
I didn't think of the appointment book. Unfortunately. The only
(13:59):
way that occurred to me of getting in touch with
the writers of the letters was to go to the
Domino Club. Charlton felt astray again for the moment. There
were more complications in the case than he had even
yet grasped. I expect you know all about the club.
My husband had started it as a means of getting
money out of his patience, but it caught on and
became quite a fashionable resort. It brought him something like
(14:20):
one thousand pounds a year. Of course his name didn't appear,
but every one knew he was to be met there regularly.
He never missed a dance. The nominal proprietor of the
club was the woman who managed it for him, Madame Banell. Yes,
I knew all that, and I know Madame Banell, missus
Neobard's face betrayed some apprehension know her as a friend.
Do you mean she ventured I know her well enough
(14:42):
to think she could be a very dangerous one. Ah,
then you do know her. I wish I had. I
went to her to buy a ticket of admission to
the club, as I wasn't a member. I didn't mean
to tell her who I was, but she knew somehow.
Madame Banell knew a good deal. Yes, I found that
out too before I had done with her. She was
all politeness. She pretended to think I was coming out
(15:03):
of curiosity and treated it as a sort of joke.
She promised, of her own accord not to let doctor
weatherid know. Promised it playfully, you understand, as if it
were of no consequence whether he did or not. What
she really thought, I can't tell, but she must have
suspected something and meant to get me in her power.
She deceived me completely. I asked her some questions about
the people who came, especially the patients. I wanted to
(15:25):
find out which of them came against their will. But
I hoped she wouldn't see what I was driving at.
A sheep might as well have tried to hoodwink a
wolf with Charleton's inward comment, but he thought he had
interrupted enough. She answered all my questions so glibly, and
seemed so anxious to oblige that I was let on
further and further. At last, she said, you can see
I am my friend, Madam, Why not trust me? I
(15:46):
see you want to know your husband's enemies, and I
am willing to help you. This club is full of them.
Every time the doctor comes here, I consider he takes
his life in his hands. I tried to draw back,
but it was too late. She refused to let me go.
She said, I must choose but to between you and
your husband, Madam. He is my employer. He pays me well,
and if anything happens to him, you may engage another
(16:06):
man address and I shall lose my daily bread if
it is your object to preserve him from danger. We
can work together. She must have guessed pretty well by
this time that I had a different object, because she
hardly waited for me to answer before I could make
up my mind what to say. She went on, on
the other hand, I have no friendship for doctor Weatherid
of late. I have sometimes wished that he were out
of the way. The club would do better without him.
(16:28):
In my opinion, he is unpopular, and always I am
afraid of some terrible esclandree, some frightful scene, or some
exposure that would ruin the club and perhaps injure my character.
In spite of the gravity of the situation, Sir Frank
Charlton relish Madame's regard for her character, though he kept
his enjoyment to himself. She meant me to feel that
she was on my side. I could see. It seemed
(16:49):
to be a pure matter of business with her. She
was ready to help me to save my husband or
to kill him, it didn't matter which, provided it was
made worth her. While at the same time she let
me see that I was in her power. It comes
to this, She said at last, that if you are
not going to trust me, I can't afford to trust you.
You may have come here to pump me to find
out if I deserve your husband's confidence. In that case,
(17:10):
I must report this conversation to him for my own protection.
I expect you to see that, Madam, it was all
so clever, as clever as the advertisement about the letters,
Charlton reflected he did not wonder that missus Neobard had
been overmatched. In the end, I had to give in
to her. I saw no way out, and it looked
as if she would be perfectly willing to help me
on her own terms. I undertook to transfer the whole
(17:32):
property in the Domino Club to her on my husband's death,
and she undertook to find one of its victims who
hated him enough to kill him if he could do
it safely and give him the secret poison. No one
was to know where she had obtained it. I took
the bottle to her the next day. The moment it
was in her hands, she said to me, I must
have more than this, Madam. I must have the letters
you have found. They are your justification for planning your
(17:55):
husband's death, and I must have them to show in
my defense if I get into trouble for assisting you.
I had been weak enough to tell her nearly everything
I have told you, because I couldn't bear to let
her think that I was a bad woman acting from
evil motives. Now I repented too late. As usual, she
had a perfect answer to everything I could say. It
comes to this, madam, that you have given me the
means to commit a murder, and you have made these
(18:17):
letters your excuse. If you decline to produce them, I
must doubt if they exist, and as an honest woman,
I shall hand this bottle over to the police. Charleton
got out of his chair. If he did not yet
know all he wanted to know, he knew all that
this poor woman could tell him. Thank you, if I
have your permission to use this information in my own way,
Neither you nor your daughter need fear anything more. The
(18:39):
astonished woman stopped him on the way to the door,
But after Madame Bannell had got the letters, she turned
round and refused to go on with the plot. How
did my husband die? I am going to ask her
that end of chapter nineteen
Chapter nineteen of the Club of Masques. This is a
LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
Read by Allison, The Club of Masques by Allan Upward,
the means to do ill deeds. The pale, weak woman
had suddenly been transformed in Tarleton's eyes into a heroine.
(00:24):
He saw in her someone greater than himself. He was
the official, salaried guardian of society, called upon to run
no risks that a brave man ought to fear. But
this forlorn woman, without a friend in whom she could
confide without support from public opinion or from the law,
had taken into her trembling hands the task of delivering
her sister women from a wretch whom neither opinion nor
(00:46):
the law could reach. Missus neobard, she had surely earned
her right to be called that now thanked the doctor
for his impulsive action with a look, But it was
not a look of triumph. She proceeded with her story
in the tone of a loser rather than a victor.
Miss Sebright told me that she had felt a longing
to become a mother, which she had no hope of satisfying,
(01:07):
because she suffered from a depravity a club foot. She
had been told as a child that no man would
ever want to marry her except for her money, and
the result had been to make her distrust every man
who came near her. It was a sad story, and
I'm afraid it is true of other women. Their self
distrust robs them of the happiness within their reach, if
they only knew it. The speaker sighed, as though contrasting
(01:29):
their fate with her own opposite mistake. She told me
she had come to my husband to have the longing
driven out of her mind, instead of which she had
persuaded her to become the mother of an illegitimate child
by a man whose name was not told her. The
child was never born happily or unhappily. I daren't say which.
But she had written letters that disclosed what she had done,
(01:50):
and now the doctor was holding them over her. He
hadn't gone so far as to demand money, but he
was compelling her to come or write to him every week,
and charging her high fees. She would rather have paid
a lump sum to end it. The persecution was driving
her out of her mind. The poor thing actually offered
me a thousand pounds. It was a sickening story. Hardened
(02:10):
as he was to the ways of criminals. Charleton listened
to it with nausea. I promised to find the letters
and return them to her if I could. I had
to go to work secretly. If I had said anything
to my husband, it would have put him on his
guard and he would have placed the letters somewhere out
of my reach. I spied on him till I saw
him one day through the keyhole, going to a cupboard
(02:31):
in the wall of his dressing room, the one you
found the consultant foreboard to correct her are saying that
the discovery had been made by Inspector Charles. Of course,
it was locked, and I had no key that would
open it. So I went to an ironmonger's one day
when the doctor was away for the week end, and
asked him to send a confidential man to open it.
I pretended that my husband had lost the key while
(02:51):
he was on a holiday and wanted something in the
cupboard to be sent to him. I don't know if
they believed me, but they said nothing, and they made
me a new key. In the same quiet way. She
went on, seeming to see nothing extraordinary in the patient
contrivance by which she had outwitted the schemer, who most
probably looked down upon her as a simple piece of
domestic furniture. In the cupboard she had found a mass
(03:13):
of correspondence, by no means, all of it from women,
but in almost every case containing painful and sometimes hideous
revelations of depraved and distorted natures. The horrified woman had
been obliged to leave a good deal unread. The letters
from each correspondent were neatly kept on a separate file,
marked with the number under which he or she wrote.
(03:33):
These numbers puzzled her at first, as they puzzled Tarleton himself,
but she had only to ask Miss Sebright for the explanation.
Several numbers were missing from the series. Either the writers
must have redeemed their rash confessions, or else they had
gone abroad or died and the papers had become valueless.
The real difficulty before missus Neobard had been to keep
her promise to Miss Sebright without the doctor's knowing that
(03:56):
his cupboard had been opened. Now she saw her way.
If the poor victim defied him, and he went to
look for her file and found it gone. He would
probably think he had destroyed it himself by mistake. He
wasn't always sober when he came in at night, the
unfortunate wife said, in a tone that breathed of her
past sufferings. I felt sure he couldn't suspect me or
any one of taking one set of letters and leaving
(04:18):
all the rest. Anyhow, I decided to risk it. I
took Miss Sebright's letters and sent them to her by
registered post. She wrote, thanking me very gratefully, but telling
me that she was dying, and asking me to go
and see her. I went more than once. It was
the sight of her sinking into her grave under my
husband's cruelty that nerved me to go on. I should
(04:39):
have returned all the other letters now, without caring what happened,
if I had known where to send them, but it
had no key to whom the numbers stood for. You
would have found that if you had looked in doctor
Weatherd's appointment book, Sir Frank told her. The widow opened
her eyes. I never thought of that. I see you
know how to find out everything, Sir Frank, stop me
if I am telling you anything you know already, The
(05:00):
consultant waved his hand courteously for her to go on.
Her story had held one surprise for him already, and
he foresaw that others were to come. I waited. I
now went to the cupboard every day when I knew
I was safe from interruption, to read any fresh letters
that had arrived, in the hope of finding something in
them that would give me a clue to the writer's identity.
At last, I found one in which the writer had
(05:22):
put her address at the head in the usual way.
I suppose she did it in forgetfulness. Charleton breathed softly
while he waited for the name he was pretty certain
of hearing. The address was Carlyle Square, Chelsea. I looked
it up in the directory and found she was a
Missus Baker. Have you heard of her before? Missus Neobard
gave him an imploring look. I knew her brother, the
late Captain Armstrong, the specialist said, without answering the question directly,
(05:46):
Please tell me everything. Missus Neobard made an effort and
went on. I was disappointed in a sense to find
that her letters weren't worth returning to her. There was
nothing in them that any one could make use of
to harm her. As far as I could see, she
was a very foolish woman with fads. She had come
to my husband out of mere curiosity, I should think,
and he had played on her weakness. He had pretended
(06:08):
that she was secretly longing to commit a murder, and
the silly woman believed him. She seemed rather proud of
it than otherwise. I suppose it gave her a feeling
of self importance to think of herself as a possible
missus Maybrick. In one of her letters, she compared herself
with Melotti in The Three Musketeers. It was so exactly
in keeping with his own impression of the queer little
woman in Carlyle Square that Charleton gave a nod of satisfaction. Ah,
(06:32):
I see you do know her, but I suppose you
won't tell me how much you know. The physician was
obliged to shake his head. You could not trust me yourself, ma'am.
If I did, I suppose you are right, she admitted, regretfully. Well,
I went on reading this miss Baker's letters on the
chance of finding something serious in them, and at last
there was he had prompted her to think out plans
for committing a murder, and she was actually sending them
(06:55):
to him. A gasp drew Charlton's attention to Sarah Neerbard,
who had sat hitherto listening in silence. Now she seemed
roused to a sense of impending tragedy, and gazed at
her mother with dilated eyes. The widow directed a swift
glance at her and withdrew it instantly. You can understand
my terrible position, Sir Frank. My eyes had been open
to my husband's character. I don't say that he had
(07:17):
always been a bad man, but he had become one
by now. I had the proof under my eyes that
he was a criminal and a danger to society. And
here he was discussing plots of murder with a weak,
silly woman who seemed to be under his thumb. Judging
from her letters, she was quite capable of committing a
murder out of vanity, just to give herself the feeling
that she was an extraordinary person. The consultant did not
(07:39):
credit this, but he was not there to defend missus Baker,
and he did not want to interrupt. I felt that
if she did commit a crime. She would be doing
it as my husband's instrument, as much as if he
had hypnotized her, and that I must find some way
to prevent it. Then, while I was wondering how to interfere,
a letter came in in which she said she had
a bottle of poison in her possession, a poison unknown
(08:01):
to the medical profession, that her brother had brought with
him from Sumatra. But I expect you know about that.
I know the poison you speak of. Certainly the brother
sold me a quantity of it. He professed it was
all he had brought to England. He deceived you. Then
in the next letter, she described exactly where she kept
the poison and a chiffonier in her drawing room, within
reach of the first caller. She boasted that she kept
(08:23):
it under lock and key, but almost any one could
pick a lock like that, as even I could see.
Of course, I knew from that moment that the poison
was within my husband's reach, and I felt sure he
meant to take it. Why else should he have asked
about it so particularly? What did it matter to him
where it was kept unless he wanted it himself. I
quite agree with you, said the specialist, seeing that he
(08:43):
was expected to reply. Now you see where I stood.
I knew that my husband was capable of committing a
murder if he had anything to gain by it, And
now I knew that he was actually scheming to obtain
a poison that couldn't be detected. I don't think missus
Baker had an idea that her brother had parted with
some to you, she wrote, as though her bottle held
all there was, And who was it that he was
(09:05):
thinking of murdering? I couldn't see any one but myself mother.
The word burst from Sara's agonized lips. If she had
retained any lingering softness for the dead man, it must
have expired in that cry. Her mother did not turn
her head. I had to defend myself. I couldn't prevent
him from taking the poison in any other way that
I could think of. I went to missus Baker's house
(09:25):
and stole the bottle. You were quite right, the physician agreed. Again.
I had no difficulty. I took a bunch of all
the keys I could find in the house, keys of
wardrobes and drawers and boxes of different sizes, and went
round to the square. I walked up and down till
I had seen a woman who looked like the mistress
of the house come out. And then I knocked and
asked to be allowed to wait upstairs. I gave some
(09:47):
common name. She put her hand to her forehead. That's strange,
I can't remember the name well. Almost the first key
I tried opened the chiffonier, and there stood the bottle,
just as she had described it. I put it into
my pocket, came away. Whatever theory Sir Frank had formed
as to the case, it had certainly not included this incident.
He had thought it possible that, after whether it had
(10:08):
carried off the bottle, his wife had found it and
taken it in turn from him. He had never conjectured
that the feeble looking woman had been brave and cool
enough to checkmate her husband in advance like this. For
the moment I felt safe, Missus Dinobard went on steadily.
But how long could I expect to be from such
a husband as mine. He was a doctor, and it
was easy for him to obtain other poisons. He would
(10:29):
have had to do that in any case, I think,
as it turned out, Missus Baker quarreled with him soon
after because he had advised her to kill a favorite cat.
She refused to have anything more to do with him,
and as her letters were more damaging to him than
to her, he had no hold on her. I soon
found that he had destroyed them. This was another new
light for the consultant, and it prepared him for what
(10:50):
was to come next. It seemed to me that my
only chance of escape was to leave him. But what
reason could I give to the world for doing so.
I had nothing to complain of as far as his
treatment of me was concerned. He was always perfectly courteous.
We were on friendly terms Outwardly. I couldn't prove that
he had been unfaithful to me. I wasn't even sure
in my own mind that he had been. Yet, although
(11:10):
the letter showed me that he was pursuing one of
his victims, what could I say? Was I to denounce
him publicly as a scoundrel and produce the letters. I
might have ruined dozens of innocent men and women, and
I might fail. I might find that the world sided
with him instead of me. I knew him well enough
to know exactly what he would do. He would say
that I had spied on his professional work, that I
(11:31):
had pried into the secrets of his patients, and that
jealousy had made me insane, and he would have found
plenty of people to believe him. A wife who portrays
her husband is not likely to be forgiven. If I
left him, I doubted if my own daughter would have
come with me. This was the first allusion the mother
had made to her daughter's unhappy infatuation, and it was
the last one. Sarah had begun to cry quietly. Now
(11:53):
missus Neobard put out her hand again and took her
child's You won't expect me to give you all my
reasons for deciding that I must act as I did,
Sir Frank. Perhaps you will think I really was insane.
I don't know. After reading some of those letters that
I found, I sometimes feel it difficult to say who
is sane and who isn't. I can only say I
thought over everything time after time, as quietly as I could,
(12:15):
and I always came to the same conclusion. I think
what stuck in my mind most of all was the
death of poor miss Sebright. There was no doubt that
he had murdered her, as surely as if he had
given her arsenic I thought he ought to die. She
said it without an effort, as though it were the
most natural conclusion in the world. It looked like a
providence to me that I had the poison ready. It
(12:35):
was his own doing. You see, he had helped me
to it through wanting it himself for his own wicked ends.
I had taken it in self defense, and there it
was ready to be used. The listener remembered Shakespeare's lines,
though he refrained from quoting them. How Oft, the sight
of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done.
The master of human nature had anticipated the excuse of
(12:56):
many King John's, and in this case the excuse seemed genuine.
In fact, the widow did not speak as though she
meant to excuse herself. She seemed to be simply explaining
the sequence of her thoughts. Then I came to a
new difficulty that I had never expected. I found I
couldn't do it. It sounded like confession. There was far
more of apology in the tone with which she said
(13:16):
this than there had been in her whole previous statement.
For the first time, there was moisture in her eyes.
I had believed in him once I had loved him.
She broke down and ceased for a few moments. Charleton
watched her with real pity. I dare say, you will
find it difficult to understand me, sir Frank, but I
think most wives would. I hadn't changed my mind. I
was still quite firm in believing that it was right
(13:38):
to put an end to my husband. But I had
to find some one else to do it. The consultant nodded.
It was all plain to him. Now. His theory had
not been very far wrong. After all. I decided that
I must try to discover one of his victims, one
of the men who had confessed their secrets to him
and were suffering in consequence, and give the poison to him.
I didn't think of the appointment book. Unfortunately. The only
(13:59):
way that occurred to me of getting in touch with
the writers of the letters was to go to the
Domino Club. Charlton felt astray again for the moment. There
were more complications in the case than he had even
yet grasped. I expect you know all about the club.
My husband had started it as a means of getting
money out of his patience, but it caught on and
became quite a fashionable resort. It brought him something like
(14:20):
one thousand pounds a year. Of course his name didn't appear,
but every one knew he was to be met there regularly.
He never missed a dance. The nominal proprietor of the
club was the woman who managed it for him, Madame Banell. Yes,
I knew all that, and I know Madame Banell, missus
Neobard's face betrayed some apprehension know her as a friend.
Do you mean she ventured I know her well enough
(14:42):
to think she could be a very dangerous one. Ah,
then you do know her. I wish I had. I
went to her to buy a ticket of admission to
the club, as I wasn't a member. I didn't mean
to tell her who I was, but she knew somehow.
Madame Banell knew a good deal. Yes, I found that
out too before I had done with her. She was
all politeness. She pretended to think I was coming out
(15:03):
of curiosity and treated it as a sort of joke.
She promised, of her own accord not to let doctor
weatherid know. Promised it playfully, you understand, as if it
were of no consequence whether he did or not. What
she really thought, I can't tell, but she must have
suspected something and meant to get me in her power.
She deceived me completely. I asked her some questions about
the people who came, especially the patients. I wanted to
(15:25):
find out which of them came against their will. But
I hoped she wouldn't see what I was driving at.
A sheep might as well have tried to hoodwink a
wolf with Charleton's inward comment, but he thought he had
interrupted enough. She answered all my questions so glibly, and
seemed so anxious to oblige that I was let on
further and further. At last, she said, you can see
I am my friend, Madam, Why not trust me? I
(15:46):
see you want to know your husband's enemies, and I
am willing to help you. This club is full of them.
Every time the doctor comes here, I consider he takes
his life in his hands. I tried to draw back,
but it was too late. She refused to let me go.
She said, I must choose but to between you and
your husband, Madam. He is my employer. He pays me well,
and if anything happens to him, you may engage another
(16:06):
man address and I shall lose my daily bread if
it is your object to preserve him from danger. We
can work together. She must have guessed pretty well by
this time that I had a different object, because she
hardly waited for me to answer before I could make
up my mind what to say. She went on, on
the other hand, I have no friendship for doctor Weatherid
of late. I have sometimes wished that he were out
of the way. The club would do better without him.
(16:28):
In my opinion, he is unpopular, and always I am
afraid of some terrible esclandree, some frightful scene, or some
exposure that would ruin the club and perhaps injure my character.
In spite of the gravity of the situation, Sir Frank
Charlton relish Madame's regard for her character, though he kept
his enjoyment to himself. She meant me to feel that
she was on my side. I could see. It seemed
(16:49):
to be a pure matter of business with her. She
was ready to help me to save my husband or
to kill him, it didn't matter which, provided it was
made worth her. While at the same time she let
me see that I was in her power. It comes
to this, She said at last, that if you are
not going to trust me, I can't afford to trust you.
You may have come here to pump me to find
out if I deserve your husband's confidence. In that case,
(17:10):
I must report this conversation to him for my own protection.
I expect you to see that, Madam, it was all
so clever, as clever as the advertisement about the letters,
Charlton reflected he did not wonder that missus Neobard had
been overmatched. In the end, I had to give in
to her. I saw no way out, and it looked
as if she would be perfectly willing to help me
on her own terms. I undertook to transfer the whole
(17:32):
property in the Domino Club to her on my husband's death,
and she undertook to find one of its victims who
hated him enough to kill him if he could do
it safely and give him the secret poison. No one
was to know where she had obtained it. I took
the bottle to her the next day. The moment it
was in her hands, she said to me, I must
have more than this, Madam. I must have the letters
you have found. They are your justification for planning your
(17:55):
husband's death, and I must have them to show in
my defense if I get into trouble for assisting you.
I had been weak enough to tell her nearly everything
I have told you, because I couldn't bear to let
her think that I was a bad woman acting from
evil motives. Now I repented too late. As usual, she
had a perfect answer to everything I could say. It
comes to this, madam, that you have given me the
means to commit a murder, and you have made these
(18:17):
letters your excuse. If you decline to produce them, I
must doubt if they exist, and as an honest woman,
I shall hand this bottle over to the police. Charleton
got out of his chair. If he did not yet
know all he wanted to know, he knew all that
this poor woman could tell him. Thank you, if I
have your permission to use this information in my own way,
Neither you nor your daughter need fear anything more. The
(18:39):
astonished woman stopped him on the way to the door,
But after Madame Bannell had got the letters, she turned
round and refused to go on with the plot. How
did my husband die? I am going to ask her
that end of chapter nineteen
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