June 9, 2025 • 23 mins
Dive into Last Drive, an intriguing mystery from famed crime author Rex Stout, the mind behind the enduring Nero Wolfe detective series. This riveting tale, which inspired the inaugural Nero Wolfe novel, Fer-de-Lance, revolves around a golfer who suddenly drops dead of an apparent heart attack on the golf course. However, the plot thickens when the death is ruled a poisoning. Canby Rankin, the country clubs president, steps up to the challenge of unmasking the killer. This riveting summary is brought to you by Ben Tucker.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter two of The Last Drive by Rex Stout. The
Slebrivox recording is in the public domain read by Ben Tucker.
Chapter two. At Greenlawn, Rankin did not immediately follow the
procession to the club house. Instead, he moved across to
the spot where Colonel Phillips had lain on the ground,
(00:21):
and stood there for some time, gazing at the crushed
and trample blades of grass, with an absent expression in
his eyes and a wrinkled brow. The colonel had been
one of his dearest friends. Rankin, a man not lavish
of his affection, had sincerely loved him. But beyond a
shocked tightening of the lips, there was no indication of
deep feeling on his countenance. He was in the habit
(00:44):
of keeping his emotions sternly within, and besides, a problem
was trying to set itself in his mind. Finally, he
turned with an impatient shrug of his shoulders and strolled
off slowly in the direction of the fifth tee, casting
his eyes from side to side over the green turf.
Half curiously, probably absurd, he muttered to himself some constitutional secret,
(01:08):
no doubt. Wartley says, poison symptoms, that's all indiscreet. Still
he knew the colonel. And there's this devilish feeling I get,
as though out of the air, like a dog with
his nose full of fox smell. It's never yet played me. False,
rives me to wonder. But who the deuce would harm
(01:28):
Carson Phillips, fine young fellows like those boys. No, positively,
no one. It's absurd. I must talk with Wartley. But
for all that. When Rankin had hastened his steps somewhat
and made his way across the fairway and the ruff
to the sloping terraces along the eighteenth Teeth, he did
not go at once to the club house. Instead, he
(01:49):
sought one of the smaller buildings, set in a group
of trees off to the right, around the door of
which a number of boys in brown uniforms and yellow
caps were scattered, engaged in a general discussion with a
show of great animation and excitement. The greater part were
gathered in a circle around some central object of interest
near a corner of the building, and as Rankin approached,
(02:12):
he sighted the object of his search in the midst
of this group. It was the little caddie who had
turned the dead colonel's bag of clubs over to Harry Adams,
and later turned away from the automobile in a flood
of tears. The detective beckoned to him, come here, Jimmy.
The lad separated himself from the throng and rank and
led him over toward the terrace, out of earshot of
(02:33):
the others. What are they talking about over there? He
began abruptly abount Colonel Phillips, Sir, Replied the boy. The
excitement of his sudden elevation to supreme importance among the
other caddies had evidently somewhat submerged his grief, but the
tear stains on his cheeks made two whitish lions down
to his chin. What are they saying? The reply was
(02:58):
rather vague, mostly to the fact that they were just talking.
I see Rankin looked down at him speculatively. You know, Jimmy,
Colonel Phillips was stricken with heart disease. Doctor Wortley says,
So I want to ask you a question or two,
but you must promise not to say anything to the
(03:18):
other boys. I think I can trust you for the
Colonel's sake. Jimmy, Yes, Sir. The Lad's brown eyes flashed
up I do anything for the colonel. I won't say anything, sir.
Is he well? Is he really dead? Mister Rinklin. Jimmy's
(03:38):
lips quivered a little as he put the question, Then,
at the detective's somber affirmative nod, he closed them tight again. Yes,
I want you to know, Jimmy, if you noticed anything
at all unusual during the match this morning. The boy
thought a minute, no, sir, nothing unusual except that mister
Mawson got a three on the first whole. Ranken smiled
(04:02):
a little in spite of himself. Sure there was nothing
think hard, no, sir, not as I remember. Did they
stop at the water tank on the fourth for a drink? No, sir.
Anybody smoked After a second Jimmy replied that the two
young men had lit pipes at the second tee, not
(04:22):
the colonel. Nobody gave him a cigar, no sir, nor
mister Mawson either, and the Colonel seemed well and in
good spirits up to the time up to the fifth hole.
Jimmy's yes was quite positive, and then he added, except
that he was mad on account of his driving. He's
been slicing awful for a week. Yesterday he used his brassie,
(04:45):
and he used it today too, but it wasn't any better.
Only on the fifth hole today he took the driver
again and got a beauty. I was so glad because
I thought, And then just five minutes later Rancan nodded,
and then drives didn't matter any more. Now, Jimmy, look
back and think carefully. Was there anything peculiar about the
(05:08):
actions of any of the other three gentlemen at any time?
Why mister Mawson was awfully nervous about the colonel's driving, Sir,
of course he was his partner. No, no, I mean
anything unusual, suspicious. The boy's brow wrinkled in the effort
of memory. No, sir, nothing, he replied at length. Then,
(05:30):
prompted by questions from the detective, Jimmy described in detail
the actions of the other three members of the Forsome
when the catastrophe came. It was necessarily a meager recital,
since the caddies had been a hundred yards in front
at the time, and on running back, had been sent
off immediately in search of the doctor, and boys are
not observing. In the pressure of excitement. The detective got
(05:52):
all he could out of him, then handed him a
dollar bill and left him with a final warning not
to repeat the conversation to the others. Then he turned
toward the clubhouse. The Saturday crowd was all over the place,
in the library, the bar, the dining room, the piazzas,
and of course, the one topic of conversation was the
tragic end of one of their best loved members, whose
(06:14):
body was at that moment lying in some room upstairs.
Everybody had come in from the lynx, all playing had ceased,
and the dining room members had left their luncheon to
get cold on the tables and then returned to sit
and talk in hushed tones. There was a buzz everywhere.
The mystery of the thing had grasped everybody. The word
(06:36):
poison was being whispered around, and there was a rumor
that police had been summoned from Brockton, the nearest village. Rankin,
with his eye open for Harrison Matlin, the president of
the club, was making his way from group to group
through the throng in the library, when he suddenly heard
his name called from behind, and a hand came down
on his shoulder, looking for you. Rankin, You're wanted upstairs Courtwell,
(07:00):
there's the devil to pay. It was John Waring, the
travel lecturer. Rankin followed him through to the back rooms
and up the rear staircase to the floor above. Half
Way down the long, wide hall, they stopped in front
of a door and Warring knocked lightly, wharring. I've got rykan,
he called in. An instant later, there was the sound
of a key turning in the lock, and the door
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swung open as they entered, and the door closed behind
them again. Rankin's quick glance showed him two or three
men gathered about a table in the center of the room.
Others were seated on chairs and on the bed over
against one side. Harry and Fred Adams were standing near
an open window with their backs turned, talking together in
low tones. Harrison Matlin, the president of the club, was there,
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and Bolton Cook and James Courtwell and Frasier Mawson and
doctor Wortley. The eyes of all were turned on the
door as the two newcomers entered. There's a problem here,
mister Rankin, Matlin began abruptly, and we want to put
it up to you. Doctor Wartley called us in to
show us. You tell him. Wartley just this explained the
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doctor that the examination of the body, together with what
I learned from Fred Adams of the nature of the
attack spasmodic rigidity pronounced dyspania, verifies beyond all doubt that
Colonel Phillips was poisoned. Rankin frowned. It's a certainty, then
what agent? The motor nerves were paralyzed and death resulted
from suffocation some virulent neurotic most probably cure are strycht, noose,
(08:31):
tux offera ah. Rankin's frown deepened. That must enter through
a wound. How look, here was the doctor's answer to
the unfinished question. The men about the table moved to
one side, disclosing to view a lumpy, oblong form covered
with a dark cloth, and doctor Whartley, stepping forward, removed
(08:52):
the covering from the body of Colonel Phillips. The clothing
had been cut away, leaving it nude to the waist,
and Rankin's gaze, directed by the doctor, fell on a
spot some three inches below the terminal of the breastbone.
There was a tiny puncture of the skin, which was
inflamed and slightly puffed with a greenish tinge extending over
(09:13):
a circular spot about the size of a silver half dollar.
So that was the way, breathed Rankin at length, straightening up.
But what did it? That's what we want you to
find out, replied Matlin, keeping his eyes away from the
table where doctor Wortley was readjusting the covering. Rankin was silent.
(09:34):
We don't want any scandal about it, the club president
went on, anxiously. But we feel, of course, it wouldn't
be right to try to hush the thing up, even
if it were possible. It must be investigated. But the
Lord knows. We don't want the village police here. There
are no good anyway. We feel we can trust you
to do as much as anyone could do, and there
will be no publicity. Colonel Phillips would want it that
(09:55):
way himself. Still, the detective was silent. Sudden only another
voice came, and all ears were directed at Fred Adams,
the elder of the two brothers. He had turned from
the window and was facing them with his countenance pale
and grief stricken. I only have this to say, he remarked,
quietly and distinctly, that I don't want publicity and scandal
(10:20):
any more than the rest of you. But nothing shall
be left undone to punish the man that murdered my uncle.
I tell you, Fred, we don't know he was murdered.
Harry Adams put in, and the sentiments found echo in
two or three other voices. Yes, how do you know
he was murdered? They were silenced by ranking gentlemen. For
(10:42):
my part, I agree with Fred. You've requested me to
solve this thing very well. I'll do my best, but
only on condition that it has left to my discretion
to notify the authorities at any time. Meanwhile, every one
of you must keep absolute silence on this affair. There
must be no hint of crime in your discussions with
those outside. Already the atmospheres electric all over the place.
(11:07):
Dispel it, and now you will kindly leave me here
with doctor Wartley, You, mister Mawson, and Fred and Harry
will remain also, if you please. There were mutterings as
the men began a general movement toward the door, and
Harrison Matlin stepped up to whisper in the ear of
the detective, who nodded impatiently in reply. Slowly they trooped
out with backward glances at the covered form on the table,
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and as the last of them disappeared into the hall.
Rankin stepped to the door and closed it. Then he
turned to the four men who had remained behind. At
his request, Doctor Wortley stood with his hand resting on
the table. Fraser Mawson had sunk into a chair, while
the two Adams brothers still stood together near the window.
(11:51):
The faces of all were lined with gravity. You've heard
what doctor Wortley has declared to be the cause of
Colonel Phillip's death, began and abruptly, glancing from Mosson to
the two young men. A virulent neurotic poison, probably cur air.
Curre Air is an arrow poison without serious effect when
taken internally, but almost instantly fatal when introduced into the
(12:15):
blood through a wound. It was used by South American
Indians to infect the tips of arrows, tiny arrows shot
from blowpips. The abrasion of the skin on the colonel's
chest his final proof of the agent. The point is
how did it get there? It must have been done
sometime within the ten minutes immediately preceding his collapse. Who
did it and how? Silence greeted the detective's pause. Mawson
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glanced at doctor Wortley. Then at the window. The two
brothers had their eyes fixed on the detective. Nobody spoke.
Did anything unusual happen during that time? Rankin continued, Was
there any one about except you four men and the caddies?
There was a simultaneous no from the two young men,
(13:00):
and Fraser Mashon shook his head in negation. No one,
the latter declared. Nothing unusual occurred, absolutely nothing until poor
Carson suddenly cried out and fell to the ground. To me,
mister Rankin, the whole thing is incomprehensible. There was absolutely
no way it could have happened. And I can't believe
why Carson Phillips hadn't an enemy in the world. Nevertheless,
(13:23):
it did happen. The detective's tone was grim. And I
don't suppose you intend to suggest suicide, mister Mawson. Good
heavens no, the lawyer protested, I simply can't understand it.
One of the caddies was a West Indian, Fred Adams
put In. Suddenly Rankin sent him a quick glance which
(13:46):
one mine. His name's Joe. That's all I know about him.
Never had him before. Hm. Rankin didn't seem particularly interested
I'll talk to him. You can never tell, but as
a matter of fact, I expect to find nothing here.
The sooner wear away, the better, doctor. I'll ask you
to go with us. An examination should be made of
(14:07):
that wound. Telephoned to Brocton for a conveyance for the body.
It can follow. The detective paused, then turned to Fred Adams.
I'll spend the night with you at Green Lawn if
you don't mind. And doctor Wartley, very well, sir, but
I don't see how you expect to find out anything there.
The young man was plainly surprised, as were the others.
(14:29):
Perhaps I won't well look around a bit, though, will
you do that telephoning doctor? It would be best to
go down at the rear. No use running past all
those curious eyes. He turned to the others. He came
over in the Colonel's car. I suppose run it out
on the drive and wait for me there. I'll be
only a minute or two downstairs. Again. Rankin observed that
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the excitement was beginning to quiet down a little. Groups
had broken up and scattered, and when he reached the
piazza he saw several pairs and forsoms making their way
to the first tea. On the lawn, he found Harrison
Matlin and surprised the club president by informing him of
his decision to depart at once for Green Lawn, Colonel
(15:13):
Phillip's estate. Then the two men proceeded together to the
caddy house. Joe, the West Indian mentioned by Fred Adams,
proved to be one of those indolent, ignorant half breeds
who seemed to consider the process of breathing an unwarranted
tax on human energy. He had been with the club
now for more than two seasons, and the caddy master
(15:33):
declared him to be inoffensive and fairly competent. Rankin asked
him a few guarded questions, then dismissed him with a
shrug of the shoulders. Clearly there was nothing to be
suspected here. He found the motor car on the drive
near the gateway, with Fred Adams at the wheel and
Harry seated beside him with a bag of golf clubs
between his knees. To an observation of Rankin's as he
(15:55):
climbed in, the young man responded, there not minds Uncle Carson's.
I didn't want to leave them. The detective seated himself
in the tonneau. Beside Fraser, Massam and the four men
sat in silence waiting for doctor Wortley. He soon put
in an appearance with the information that conveyance would arrive
from Brockton for the body in half an hour. Rankin
(16:18):
merely nodded, sliding over on the cushions to make room
for him. All Ready, Fred the engine word and the
automobile shot forward, with two hundred pairs of curious and
sympathetic eyes gazing after it from the piazza and lawns.
Twenty minutes later they entered the gateway of Green Lawn,
nestling in a wooded valley among the Jersey Hills, down
(16:40):
a long avenue of Linden's with well kept park on
either side. The car rolled smoothly, then curved round a
large sunken garden to bring up before the main entrance
of the house. It was one of those summer castles
that have been appearing throughout the East in ever increasing
numbers in the past decade. Low and rambling of Gray's stone,
(17:00):
brought from Colorado, with extensive lawns and gardens dotted here
and there, with fountains, gravel walks in every direction, terraces,
descending at one side to a miniature lake, and a
broad driveway leading circuitously to a garage constructed of the
same material as the house in the rear. Some comment
had been excited among Colonel Philip's friends when he bought
(17:22):
the place a few years before, for what use can
an old bachelor make of a castle? He had merely
smiled good humoredly at their sly insinuations, and proceeded to
make green Lawn one of the show spots of the hills.
An old man's whim, he said, and his nature was
incapable of guile. Together, the five men left the car
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and ascended the granite stpths of the wide, shady portico.
From the rear of the house. A chauffeur appeared, advancing inquiringly,
but Fred Adams dismissed him by a wave of the hand.
At the door of the reception room, they were met
by Missus Graves, the housekeeper, and the five men glanced
at one another. Here was an unpleasant duty, you tell them,
(18:07):
mister Mawson. Fred pleaded, and the lawyer was left behind
to call the servants together and announced the death of
their master. The others went on to the library, where
Harry Adams finally freed himself of the burden of the
colonel's golf bag, leaning it against a corner of the fireplace.
They watched him in silence, with the thought in their
eyes he has played his last game. Now, if you
(18:31):
young men will be good enough to leave me alone
with doctor Wortley, said Rankin. Abruptly, Harry turned and started
to go without a word. Fred hesitated and finally blurted out,
I know you have charge of this thing, mister Rankin,
but I must say that I don't see why you
run away from it. What can be done here at
Green Lawn. I know you're older and wiser than I am,
and I don't want to criticize, but Harry and I
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feel we have a right to know you have. Rankin
put in stopping him with a gesture, but as yet
there there's nothing to tell. I hold myself responsible. I
am doing what I think best. But of course you're
an authority here now. And if you think no, sir,
it isn't that, the young man declared hastily. I suppose
I shouldn't have said anything, but you you know how
(19:16):
we feel. I do, my boy, Fred turned and followed
his brother out of the room, closing the door behind him.
The doctor and the detective, finding themselves alone, glanced at
each other and then away again. Rankin's eye happened to
light on a large bronze clock above the mantel, and
stayed there. The hands of the clock pointed to a
quarter past two. Doctor Wortley walked to a window looking
(19:40):
out on the garden and stood there a moment, then
crossed to a chair near the table and sank down
in it, his fingers moving nervously along the arm. Neither
said a word. Of course, I know what you're thinking, Rankin,
the doctor finally observed, breaking into speech all at once.
I know why you thought there was nothing to be
done over there, But well it seems preposterous, Fred Harry Mossin.
(20:05):
Why it's preposterous? The detective turned from his contemplation of
the clock. If you know what I think, you know
more than I do, he said at last, slowly. And
you do, as a matter of fact, no more than
I do. That's why I want to talk to you.
But certain conclusions are inevitable. We know how the colonel
(20:27):
is killed. A tiny arrow or still needle cannot be
sent from any considerable distance from the fifth tee to
the spot where the colonel fell. There is no shrubbery anywhere,
nothing that could have served as a hiding place for
the murderer. That is certain. Then it is equally certain
that the murderer was not hidden. He was there, and
(20:48):
he was not hidden. The caddies are out of the question.
They were the two Simpson boys, Jimmy Marks and Joe
the West Indian. Fred spoke of absurd to suspect any
of them. That leaves only the members of the forsome First,
the colonel himself suicide must be considered, though the circumstances
render it highly improbable. You were his friend and physician
(21:10):
for thirty years. You knew him more intimately than anyone else.
Your opinion, Carson Phillips did not kill himself, declared the
doctor with conviction. There was absolutely no reason. I knew
every detail of his life, and besides, he wasn't the
man to sneak out of a thing. No, then the
other three are left. The thought is repugnant to us, admitted. Also,
(21:34):
the hypothesis is difficult. It seems impossible that the thing
could have been done without attracting notice. They all swear
nothing unusual occurred. Can they be in league? I dismissed.
That is incredible. Then it was done somehow without attracting notice,
how and by whom their motive enters. But point is,
(21:57):
how if only I had been in that force, the
blowpipe is out of the question as requiring extraordinary skill.
There was some devilish trick somewhere, you know, said the
doctor slowly. It's my opinion you're on the wrong track, Rankin.
I can't believe it's the only open track, the detective retorted,
(22:19):
no other way to turn. Disagreeable as it is, we
must follow it. There's one other thing I haven't spoken of. Hello,
what's up? As he spoke, the worrying of an engine
had made itself heard, and now through the window an automobile,
the one that had brought them to Greenlawn, was seen
to turn about on the drive outside and head for
(22:40):
the outer gate with a sudden leap forward. Fred Adams
was at the wheel. An instant later, Harry appeared on
one of the gravel paths at the edge of the garden.
Doctor Wortley, who had joined Rankin near the window through it,
opened to call to the young man, what's up, Harry,
where's Fred going down to Morton's? Came the reply. There
(23:00):
was a touch of disapproval in the tone. Said he'd
be right back in case he asked for him. The
doctor had closed the window again before Rinkinn's query came,
Martin's where's that over west a few miles, replied the doctor.
There's a girl, Dora Morton. Rather odd he should run
off there just now. Something in the tone caused the
(23:23):
other to pursue the inquiry. Why why Carson didn't approve
of her? There's been a quiet sort of row on
about it for some time. She's the daughter of Morton,
the Cheeseman, and well, Carson's ideas were somewhat aristocratic. You know,
I believe he even threatened to disinherit Fred if he
didn't give her up. Ah, I see, said the detective softly.
(23:51):
End of chapter two
Chapter two of The Last Drive by Rex Stout. The
Slebrivox recording is in the public domain read by Ben Tucker.
Chapter two. At Greenlawn, Rankin did not immediately follow the
procession to the club house. Instead, he moved across to
the spot where Colonel Phillips had lain on the ground,
(00:21):
and stood there for some time, gazing at the crushed
and trample blades of grass, with an absent expression in
his eyes and a wrinkled brow. The colonel had been
one of his dearest friends. Rankin, a man not lavish
of his affection, had sincerely loved him. But beyond a
shocked tightening of the lips, there was no indication of
deep feeling on his countenance. He was in the habit
(00:44):
of keeping his emotions sternly within, and besides, a problem
was trying to set itself in his mind. Finally, he
turned with an impatient shrug of his shoulders and strolled
off slowly in the direction of the fifth tee, casting
his eyes from side to side over the green turf.
Half curiously, probably absurd, he muttered to himself some constitutional secret,
(01:08):
no doubt. Wartley says, poison symptoms, that's all indiscreet. Still
he knew the colonel. And there's this devilish feeling I get,
as though out of the air, like a dog with
his nose full of fox smell. It's never yet played me. False,
rives me to wonder. But who the deuce would harm
(01:28):
Carson Phillips, fine young fellows like those boys. No, positively,
no one. It's absurd. I must talk with Wartley. But
for all that. When Rankin had hastened his steps somewhat
and made his way across the fairway and the ruff
to the sloping terraces along the eighteenth Teeth, he did
not go at once to the club house. Instead, he
(01:49):
sought one of the smaller buildings, set in a group
of trees off to the right, around the door of
which a number of boys in brown uniforms and yellow
caps were scattered, engaged in a general discussion with a
show of great animation and excitement. The greater part were
gathered in a circle around some central object of interest
near a corner of the building, and as Rankin approached,
(02:12):
he sighted the object of his search in the midst
of this group. It was the little caddie who had
turned the dead colonel's bag of clubs over to Harry Adams,
and later turned away from the automobile in a flood
of tears. The detective beckoned to him, come here, Jimmy.
The lad separated himself from the throng and rank and
led him over toward the terrace, out of earshot of
(02:33):
the others. What are they talking about over there? He
began abruptly abount Colonel Phillips, Sir, Replied the boy. The
excitement of his sudden elevation to supreme importance among the
other caddies had evidently somewhat submerged his grief, but the
tear stains on his cheeks made two whitish lions down
to his chin. What are they saying? The reply was
(02:58):
rather vague, mostly to the fact that they were just talking.
I see Rankin looked down at him speculatively. You know, Jimmy,
Colonel Phillips was stricken with heart disease. Doctor Wortley says,
So I want to ask you a question or two,
but you must promise not to say anything to the
(03:18):
other boys. I think I can trust you for the
Colonel's sake. Jimmy, Yes, Sir. The Lad's brown eyes flashed
up I do anything for the colonel. I won't say anything, sir.
Is he well? Is he really dead? Mister Rinklin. Jimmy's
(03:38):
lips quivered a little as he put the question, Then,
at the detective's somber affirmative nod, he closed them tight again. Yes,
I want you to know, Jimmy, if you noticed anything
at all unusual during the match this morning. The boy
thought a minute, no, sir, nothing unusual except that mister
Mawson got a three on the first whole. Ranken smiled
(04:02):
a little in spite of himself. Sure there was nothing
think hard, no, sir, not as I remember. Did they
stop at the water tank on the fourth for a drink? No, sir.
Anybody smoked After a second Jimmy replied that the two
young men had lit pipes at the second tee, not
(04:22):
the colonel. Nobody gave him a cigar, no sir, nor
mister Mawson either, and the Colonel seemed well and in
good spirits up to the time up to the fifth hole.
Jimmy's yes was quite positive, and then he added, except
that he was mad on account of his driving. He's
been slicing awful for a week. Yesterday he used his brassie,
(04:45):
and he used it today too, but it wasn't any better.
Only on the fifth hole today he took the driver
again and got a beauty. I was so glad because
I thought, And then just five minutes later Rancan nodded,
and then drives didn't matter any more. Now, Jimmy, look
back and think carefully. Was there anything peculiar about the
(05:08):
actions of any of the other three gentlemen at any time?
Why mister Mawson was awfully nervous about the colonel's driving, Sir,
of course he was his partner. No, no, I mean
anything unusual, suspicious. The boy's brow wrinkled in the effort
of memory. No, sir, nothing, he replied at length. Then,
(05:30):
prompted by questions from the detective, Jimmy described in detail
the actions of the other three members of the Forsome
when the catastrophe came. It was necessarily a meager recital,
since the caddies had been a hundred yards in front
at the time, and on running back, had been sent
off immediately in search of the doctor, and boys are
not observing. In the pressure of excitement. The detective got
(05:52):
all he could out of him, then handed him a
dollar bill and left him with a final warning not
to repeat the conversation to the others. Then he turned
toward the clubhouse. The Saturday crowd was all over the place,
in the library, the bar, the dining room, the piazzas,
and of course, the one topic of conversation was the
tragic end of one of their best loved members, whose
(06:14):
body was at that moment lying in some room upstairs.
Everybody had come in from the lynx, all playing had ceased,
and the dining room members had left their luncheon to
get cold on the tables and then returned to sit
and talk in hushed tones. There was a buzz everywhere.
The mystery of the thing had grasped everybody. The word
(06:36):
poison was being whispered around, and there was a rumor
that police had been summoned from Brockton, the nearest village. Rankin,
with his eye open for Harrison Matlin, the president of
the club, was making his way from group to group
through the throng in the library, when he suddenly heard
his name called from behind, and a hand came down
on his shoulder, looking for you. Rankin, You're wanted upstairs Courtwell,
(07:00):
there's the devil to pay. It was John Waring, the
travel lecturer. Rankin followed him through to the back rooms
and up the rear staircase to the floor above. Half
Way down the long, wide hall, they stopped in front
of a door and Warring knocked lightly, wharring. I've got rykan,
he called in. An instant later, there was the sound
of a key turning in the lock, and the door
(07:21):
swung open as they entered, and the door closed behind
them again. Rankin's quick glance showed him two or three
men gathered about a table in the center of the room.
Others were seated on chairs and on the bed over
against one side. Harry and Fred Adams were standing near
an open window with their backs turned, talking together in
low tones. Harrison Matlin, the president of the club, was there,
(07:45):
and Bolton Cook and James Courtwell and Frasier Mawson and
doctor Wortley. The eyes of all were turned on the
door as the two newcomers entered. There's a problem here,
mister Rankin, Matlin began abruptly, and we want to put
it up to you. Doctor Wartley called us in to
show us. You tell him. Wartley just this explained the
(08:06):
doctor that the examination of the body, together with what
I learned from Fred Adams of the nature of the
attack spasmodic rigidity pronounced dyspania, verifies beyond all doubt that
Colonel Phillips was poisoned. Rankin frowned. It's a certainty, then
what agent? The motor nerves were paralyzed and death resulted
from suffocation some virulent neurotic most probably cure are strycht, noose,
(08:31):
tux offera ah. Rankin's frown deepened. That must enter through
a wound. How look, here was the doctor's answer to
the unfinished question. The men about the table moved to
one side, disclosing to view a lumpy, oblong form covered
with a dark cloth, and doctor Whartley, stepping forward, removed
(08:52):
the covering from the body of Colonel Phillips. The clothing
had been cut away, leaving it nude to the waist,
and Rankin's gaze, directed by the doctor, fell on a
spot some three inches below the terminal of the breastbone.
There was a tiny puncture of the skin, which was
inflamed and slightly puffed with a greenish tinge extending over
(09:13):
a circular spot about the size of a silver half dollar.
So that was the way, breathed Rankin at length, straightening up.
But what did it? That's what we want you to
find out, replied Matlin, keeping his eyes away from the
table where doctor Wortley was readjusting the covering. Rankin was silent.
(09:34):
We don't want any scandal about it, the club president
went on, anxiously. But we feel, of course, it wouldn't
be right to try to hush the thing up, even
if it were possible. It must be investigated. But the
Lord knows. We don't want the village police here. There
are no good anyway. We feel we can trust you
to do as much as anyone could do, and there
will be no publicity. Colonel Phillips would want it that
(09:55):
way himself. Still, the detective was silent. Sudden only another
voice came, and all ears were directed at Fred Adams,
the elder of the two brothers. He had turned from
the window and was facing them with his countenance pale
and grief stricken. I only have this to say, he remarked,
quietly and distinctly, that I don't want publicity and scandal
(10:20):
any more than the rest of you. But nothing shall
be left undone to punish the man that murdered my uncle.
I tell you, Fred, we don't know he was murdered.
Harry Adams put in, and the sentiments found echo in
two or three other voices. Yes, how do you know
he was murdered? They were silenced by ranking gentlemen. For
(10:42):
my part, I agree with Fred. You've requested me to
solve this thing very well. I'll do my best, but
only on condition that it has left to my discretion
to notify the authorities at any time. Meanwhile, every one
of you must keep absolute silence on this affair. There
must be no hint of crime in your discussions with
those outside. Already the atmospheres electric all over the place.
(11:07):
Dispel it, and now you will kindly leave me here
with doctor Wartley, You, mister Mawson, and Fred and Harry
will remain also, if you please. There were mutterings as
the men began a general movement toward the door, and
Harrison Matlin stepped up to whisper in the ear of
the detective, who nodded impatiently in reply. Slowly they trooped
out with backward glances at the covered form on the table,
(11:31):
and as the last of them disappeared into the hall.
Rankin stepped to the door and closed it. Then he
turned to the four men who had remained behind. At
his request, Doctor Wortley stood with his hand resting on
the table. Fraser Mawson had sunk into a chair, while
the two Adams brothers still stood together near the window.
(11:51):
The faces of all were lined with gravity. You've heard
what doctor Wortley has declared to be the cause of
Colonel Phillip's death, began and abruptly, glancing from Mosson to
the two young men. A virulent neurotic poison, probably cur air.
Curre Air is an arrow poison without serious effect when
taken internally, but almost instantly fatal when introduced into the
(12:15):
blood through a wound. It was used by South American
Indians to infect the tips of arrows, tiny arrows shot
from blowpips. The abrasion of the skin on the colonel's
chest his final proof of the agent. The point is
how did it get there? It must have been done
sometime within the ten minutes immediately preceding his collapse. Who
did it and how? Silence greeted the detective's pause. Mawson
(12:39):
glanced at doctor Wortley. Then at the window. The two
brothers had their eyes fixed on the detective. Nobody spoke.
Did anything unusual happen during that time? Rankin continued, Was
there any one about except you four men and the caddies?
There was a simultaneous no from the two young men,
(13:00):
and Fraser Mashon shook his head in negation. No one,
the latter declared. Nothing unusual occurred, absolutely nothing until poor
Carson suddenly cried out and fell to the ground. To me,
mister Rankin, the whole thing is incomprehensible. There was absolutely
no way it could have happened. And I can't believe
why Carson Phillips hadn't an enemy in the world. Nevertheless,
(13:23):
it did happen. The detective's tone was grim. And I
don't suppose you intend to suggest suicide, mister Mawson. Good
heavens no, the lawyer protested, I simply can't understand it.
One of the caddies was a West Indian, Fred Adams
put In. Suddenly Rankin sent him a quick glance which
(13:46):
one mine. His name's Joe. That's all I know about him.
Never had him before. Hm. Rankin didn't seem particularly interested
I'll talk to him. You can never tell, but as
a matter of fact, I expect to find nothing here.
The sooner wear away, the better, doctor. I'll ask you
to go with us. An examination should be made of
(14:07):
that wound. Telephoned to Brocton for a conveyance for the body.
It can follow. The detective paused, then turned to Fred Adams.
I'll spend the night with you at Green Lawn if
you don't mind. And doctor Wartley, very well, sir, but
I don't see how you expect to find out anything there.
The young man was plainly surprised, as were the others.
(14:29):
Perhaps I won't well look around a bit, though, will
you do that telephoning doctor? It would be best to
go down at the rear. No use running past all
those curious eyes. He turned to the others. He came
over in the Colonel's car. I suppose run it out
on the drive and wait for me there. I'll be
only a minute or two downstairs. Again. Rankin observed that
(14:52):
the excitement was beginning to quiet down a little. Groups
had broken up and scattered, and when he reached the
piazza he saw several pairs and forsoms making their way
to the first tea. On the lawn, he found Harrison
Matlin and surprised the club president by informing him of
his decision to depart at once for Green Lawn, Colonel
(15:13):
Phillip's estate. Then the two men proceeded together to the
caddy house. Joe, the West Indian mentioned by Fred Adams,
proved to be one of those indolent, ignorant half breeds
who seemed to consider the process of breathing an unwarranted
tax on human energy. He had been with the club
now for more than two seasons, and the caddy master
(15:33):
declared him to be inoffensive and fairly competent. Rankin asked
him a few guarded questions, then dismissed him with a
shrug of the shoulders. Clearly there was nothing to be
suspected here. He found the motor car on the drive
near the gateway, with Fred Adams at the wheel and
Harry seated beside him with a bag of golf clubs
between his knees. To an observation of Rankin's as he
(15:55):
climbed in, the young man responded, there not minds Uncle Carson's.
I didn't want to leave them. The detective seated himself
in the tonneau. Beside Fraser, Massam and the four men
sat in silence waiting for doctor Wortley. He soon put
in an appearance with the information that conveyance would arrive
from Brockton for the body in half an hour. Rankin
(16:18):
merely nodded, sliding over on the cushions to make room
for him. All Ready, Fred the engine word and the
automobile shot forward, with two hundred pairs of curious and
sympathetic eyes gazing after it from the piazza and lawns.
Twenty minutes later they entered the gateway of Green Lawn,
nestling in a wooded valley among the Jersey Hills, down
(16:40):
a long avenue of Linden's with well kept park on
either side. The car rolled smoothly, then curved round a
large sunken garden to bring up before the main entrance
of the house. It was one of those summer castles
that have been appearing throughout the East in ever increasing
numbers in the past decade. Low and rambling of Gray's stone,
(17:00):
brought from Colorado, with extensive lawns and gardens dotted here
and there, with fountains, gravel walks in every direction, terraces,
descending at one side to a miniature lake, and a
broad driveway leading circuitously to a garage constructed of the
same material as the house in the rear. Some comment
had been excited among Colonel Philip's friends when he bought
(17:22):
the place a few years before, for what use can
an old bachelor make of a castle? He had merely
smiled good humoredly at their sly insinuations, and proceeded to
make green Lawn one of the show spots of the hills.
An old man's whim, he said, and his nature was
incapable of guile. Together, the five men left the car
(17:44):
and ascended the granite stpths of the wide, shady portico.
From the rear of the house. A chauffeur appeared, advancing inquiringly,
but Fred Adams dismissed him by a wave of the hand.
At the door of the reception room, they were met
by Missus Graves, the housekeeper, and the five men glanced
at one another. Here was an unpleasant duty, you tell them,
(18:07):
mister Mawson. Fred pleaded, and the lawyer was left behind
to call the servants together and announced the death of
their master. The others went on to the library, where
Harry Adams finally freed himself of the burden of the
colonel's golf bag, leaning it against a corner of the fireplace.
They watched him in silence, with the thought in their
eyes he has played his last game. Now, if you
(18:31):
young men will be good enough to leave me alone
with doctor Wortley, said Rankin. Abruptly, Harry turned and started
to go without a word. Fred hesitated and finally blurted out,
I know you have charge of this thing, mister Rankin,
but I must say that I don't see why you
run away from it. What can be done here at
Green Lawn. I know you're older and wiser than I am,
and I don't want to criticize, but Harry and I
(18:53):
feel we have a right to know you have. Rankin
put in stopping him with a gesture, but as yet
there there's nothing to tell. I hold myself responsible. I
am doing what I think best. But of course you're
an authority here now. And if you think no, sir,
it isn't that, the young man declared hastily. I suppose
I shouldn't have said anything, but you you know how
(19:16):
we feel. I do, my boy, Fred turned and followed
his brother out of the room, closing the door behind him.
The doctor and the detective, finding themselves alone, glanced at
each other and then away again. Rankin's eye happened to
light on a large bronze clock above the mantel, and
stayed there. The hands of the clock pointed to a
quarter past two. Doctor Wortley walked to a window looking
(19:40):
out on the garden and stood there a moment, then
crossed to a chair near the table and sank down
in it, his fingers moving nervously along the arm. Neither
said a word. Of course, I know what you're thinking, Rankin,
the doctor finally observed, breaking into speech all at once.
I know why you thought there was nothing to be
done over there, But well it seems preposterous, Fred Harry Mossin.
(20:05):
Why it's preposterous? The detective turned from his contemplation of
the clock. If you know what I think, you know
more than I do, he said at last, slowly. And
you do, as a matter of fact, no more than
I do. That's why I want to talk to you.
But certain conclusions are inevitable. We know how the colonel
(20:27):
is killed. A tiny arrow or still needle cannot be
sent from any considerable distance from the fifth tee to
the spot where the colonel fell. There is no shrubbery anywhere,
nothing that could have served as a hiding place for
the murderer. That is certain. Then it is equally certain
that the murderer was not hidden. He was there, and
(20:48):
he was not hidden. The caddies are out of the question.
They were the two Simpson boys, Jimmy Marks and Joe
the West Indian. Fred spoke of absurd to suspect any
of them. That leaves only the members of the forsome First,
the colonel himself suicide must be considered, though the circumstances
render it highly improbable. You were his friend and physician
(21:10):
for thirty years. You knew him more intimately than anyone else.
Your opinion, Carson Phillips did not kill himself, declared the
doctor with conviction. There was absolutely no reason. I knew
every detail of his life, and besides, he wasn't the
man to sneak out of a thing. No, then the
other three are left. The thought is repugnant to us, admitted. Also,
(21:34):
the hypothesis is difficult. It seems impossible that the thing
could have been done without attracting notice. They all swear
nothing unusual occurred. Can they be in league? I dismissed.
That is incredible. Then it was done somehow without attracting notice,
how and by whom their motive enters. But point is,
(21:57):
how if only I had been in that force, the
blowpipe is out of the question as requiring extraordinary skill.
There was some devilish trick somewhere, you know, said the
doctor slowly. It's my opinion you're on the wrong track, Rankin.
I can't believe it's the only open track, the detective retorted,
(22:19):
no other way to turn. Disagreeable as it is, we
must follow it. There's one other thing I haven't spoken of. Hello,
what's up? As he spoke, the worrying of an engine
had made itself heard, and now through the window an automobile,
the one that had brought them to Greenlawn, was seen
to turn about on the drive outside and head for
(22:40):
the outer gate with a sudden leap forward. Fred Adams
was at the wheel. An instant later, Harry appeared on
one of the gravel paths at the edge of the garden.
Doctor Wortley, who had joined Rankin near the window through it,
opened to call to the young man, what's up, Harry,
where's Fred going down to Morton's? Came the reply. There
(23:00):
was a touch of disapproval in the tone. Said he'd
be right back in case he asked for him. The
doctor had closed the window again before Rinkinn's query came,
Martin's where's that over west a few miles, replied the doctor.
There's a girl, Dora Morton. Rather odd he should run
off there just now. Something in the tone caused the
(23:23):
other to pursue the inquiry. Why why Carson didn't approve
of her? There's been a quiet sort of row on
about it for some time. She's the daughter of Morton,
the Cheeseman, and well, Carson's ideas were somewhat aristocratic. You know,
I believe he even threatened to disinherit Fred if he
didn't give her up. Ah, I see, said the detective softly.
(23:51):
End of chapter two
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