3
‘Doesn’t appear to be that bad. And you don’t seem to have hit your head,’ said Poe as he treated Ellery’s right ankle.
‘A sprained ankle and some bruises and scratches. One night with a poultice should do the trick. Unbelievable how lucky you are. You could have lost your life there.’
‘I must have assumed the correct falling position on the spur of the moment.’
Ellery bit his lip.
‘But it was a real blunder on my part. I was too careless. I walked straight into his trap.’
The five had returned to the Decagon House.
Ellery was sitting with his back against the wall, his leg outstretched on the floor as Poe treated the ankle. The other three watched, too nervous to simply sit down in their chairs.
‘We’d better fasten the hall doors from the inside. And nobody should go outside, especially after dark. Someone is out there trying to get us.’
‘But Ellery, I simply can’t believe it.’
Agatha seemed confused, having been told Ellery’s theory of Nakamura Seiji being the murderer when they arrived back from the Blue Mansion.
‘Can Nakamura Seiji really still be alive?’
‘The underground room just now is enough evidence, I think. At least, it proves someone was there until recently. He guessed that we would find out about the underground room and try to enter it. That’s why he laid a trap like that on the stairs. If I hadn’t been so lucky, I’d be the “The Third Victim” by now.’
‘Okay, all done, Ellery.’
Poe tapped Ellery’s ankle lightly, having finished putting on the bandages.
‘Don’t move too much tonight.’
‘Thanks, Doctor… Where are you going?’
‘Just something I want to check.’
Poe walked across the main hall and disappeared through the doors leading to the entrance hall. He was back within a minute.
‘Precisely as I thought. Sorry,’ he said to Ellery with a grim voice.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘That thread, turns out it’s mine.’
‘Yours? What do you mean?’
‘Fishing line. My fishing gear has been in the entrance hall since the first day. A roll of my stoutest line is gone.’
‘Oh, so that’s it.’
Ellery put his left foot on the floor and put both his arms around his knee.
‘There’s no lock on the front door. So anyone, whether it’s Seiji or anyone else, can come and go whenever they want. Nothing easier than to steal a roll of fishing line.’
‘But Ellery….’
Poe sat down on a chair and lit a cigarette.
‘I don’t think you should assume that Seiji is alive and that he’s the murderer.’
‘You think I’m wrong?’
‘I don’t say your theory is completely impossible, but at the moment, I don’t think we can judge whether the murderer is someone from outside. That’s my objection to your theory.’
‘Hmm.’
Still leaning against the wall, Ellery looked up at Poe’s bearded face.
‘It seems like our Doctor Poe hopes the murderer is one of us.’
‘I don’t hope anything. But I do think that it’s more likely. That’s why, Ellery, I suggest going over all of our rooms together.’
‘An inspection of personal belongings, eh?’
‘Yes. For we know the murderer must be in possession of another set of those plates, Orczy’s left hand, some kind of knife and maybe some remaining poison.’
‘Good suggestion. But Poe, if you were the murderer, would you hide things you couldn’t afford to be found in your own room? If you wanted to hide something, there are plenty of safer places elsewhere.’
‘But still, just to be sure.’
‘Hey, Poe,’ Van said. ‘Wouldn’t it be even more dangerous if we made a search?’
‘Dangerous?’
‘Suppose the murderer is really one of us five, then he would be with us as we searched the rooms. We’d be giving the murderer an easy chance to get into the others’ rooms.’
‘Van’s right.’ Agatha spoke her thoughts.
‘I don’t want anyone to come inside my room. The murderer might hide those plates or something else in one of the rooms. Or lay some kind of trap.’
‘Leroux, what do you think?’ Poe asked with a grimace.
‘I just can’t stand this Decagon House any longer.’
Leroux stared down at the floor, shaking his head slowly.
‘It’s like someone said earlier. That their eyes hurt just from looking at the walls. It’s not just the eyes. My head gets all dizzy looking at them….’
✦ ✦ ✦
4
‘The salt? You just put it over there yourself.’
Van spoke with a slight hesitation to Agatha who, after a taste of the soup, was looking around with a small plate in her hands.
‘You keep a good eye on me.’ Agatha turned to look at him, her eyes wide open. ‘You make a good guard.’
She had replied sarcastically, but there was no strength in her voice. The bags beneath her eyes were evident.
They were in the kitchen of the Decagon House.
Dimly lit by the lamp they had brought from the hall, Agatha was busy preparing a meal, while Van watched over her every movement. The other three were in the hall, occasionally glancing at the kitchen through the open door.
Trying to get the whole business out of her head, Agatha moved around busily. But the cooking didn’t go as she had hoped. All she was doing now was searching for this and that.
‘The sugar is here, Agatha,’ said Van finally. Agatha shuddered and glared at Van with her big eyes.
‘That’s enough.’ Agatha cried, putting her hands to the scarf that tied her hair. ‘If you’re so afraid to eat what I cook, you can go eat from a can for all I care.’
‘Agatha, I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Enough!’
Agatha picked up a small plate and threw it at Van. The plate grazed his arm and hit the refrigerator behind him, breaking in pieces. The disturbance brought the other three running to the kitchen.
‘I know I’m not the murderer,’ Agatha cried, both fists clenched tight and shaking like a leaf. ‘The murderer is one of you four, I know it. But you still have someone watch me? I tell you, I’m not the murderer!’
‘Agatha!’
Ellery and Poe raised their voices simultaneously.
‘What? Even with your guard posted here, if someone dies again because of the food, you’ll all blame me anyway! You’re all here to make a murderer out of me!’
‘Calm down, Agatha,’ said Poe sternly as he took one step towards her. ‘Nobody wants to do that. Pull yourself together.’
‘Don’t come any closer.’
Agatha stepped back, her eyes flashing with fear.
‘Stay away—I get it, you’re all in this together. The four of you killed Orczy and Carr. And now it’s my turn!’
‘Agatha, come to your senses.’
‘If that’s what you want, I’ll become your murderer. Yes. If I’m “The Murderer,” I won’t become a victim. Ah, poor Orczy, wretched Carr—yes, yes, I am the murderer. I killed the two of them. And now I’ll kill the rest of you!’
It took the four of them to hold her down. Agatha had completely lost control and was swinging her arms and kicking her legs wildly. They dragged her back to the hall and put her on a chair.
‘I can’t take any more of this.’
Agatha’s shoulders sagged and she stared into space with dead eyes. Her trembling body slumped down on the table.
‘I beg of you, I want to go home. I’m tired. I—I want to go back home.’
‘Agatha.’
‘I’m going. I’m going home. I’ll swim back.…’
‘Agatha, stay calm. Take a deep breath.’ Poe put his large hand on Agatha’s back and tried to calm her.
‘Agatha, nobody is accusing you of murder. Nobody is going to kill you.’
Like an unwilling child, Agatha was still resting her head on the table. Gradually her mumbling of ‘I’m going home, I’m going home’ died away and turned into sobbing.
After a long while, she suddenly raised her head. And, in a monotonous, husky voice, she said: ‘I need to prepare dinner.’
‘That’s okay. Somebody else will do it. You go and rest.’
‘No.’ Agatha pushed Poe’s hand away. ‘I’m not the murderer.’