The Burglar in the Library - By Lawrence Block Page 0,55
kind of silence that greeted Carolyn’s observation.
Nigel Eglantine broke it. “I say,” he said. “That’s a bit rich, isn’t it? ‘In this room.’ Why, there’s no one in this room but…”
“But us chickens,” someone said softly.
“But ourselves,” Nigel managed. “There’s only guests and…and staff…”
“A tramp,” Cissy Eglantine said. “Are we all that certain it might not be a tramp?”
“I’m afraid not,” the colonel said.
“Oh, I do so wish it could be a tramp,” she said. “It would be so much nicer for everyone.”
“It’s not a tramp,” her husband said heavily.
“But you said it couldn’t possibly be one of us, Nigel, and—”
“It can’t be,” he said, “but it must be. That’s what’s so awful. This is such a blessed spot, Cuttleford House, a haven from the cares of the world, and only truly nice people are drawn here. And nice people do not murder.” He set his jaw. “Or sugar snowblower engines, or sabotage suspension bridges, or cut telephone wires. Yet all these actions have been performed, haven’t they? Apparently by one of us.”
“That’s so dreadful, Nigel.”
“It is,” he agreed. “It’s quite insupportable, and that’s why it would be wonderful to blame it on a tramp, or the Bosnian Serbs, or the IRA.”
“I never thought of them….”
“Well, you needn’t think of them now, dear. I’m afraid Mrs. Rhodenbarr is correct. The killer is one of us.”
There was another silence, until Carolyn said, “Oh, the hell with it. It’s Ms. Kaiser.”
“But that’s remarkable,” Leona Savage said. “You mean you actually know who the murderer is? But which one of us is Ms. Kaiser?”
“I’m Ms. Kaiser,” Carolyn said.
“You mean…”
“No, for God’s sake! I wasn’t saying Ms. Kaiser was the murderer.”
“But you distinctly said, ‘It’s Ms. Kaiser.’ I’m positive that’s what you said.”
“Oh, Mummy,” Millicent said, exasperated. “Carolyn said ‘It’s Ms. Kaiser’ because she’s sick and tired of being called Mrs. Rhodenbarr. She’s not married to Bernie.”
“Well, I know that,” Leona said. “Neither of them wears a ring. I was being polite, in view of the fact that they’re here together and sharing a room.”
“I wouldn’t ordinarily mind what anybody called me,” Carolyn said, “but we’re all getting more involved than I thought we’d be, since one of us seems to be busy trying to kill the rest of us.”
“Quite right,” the colonel said. “When it’s ‘Nice day today’ and ‘Please pass the salt,’ one doesn’t much care what one’s called. But it’s a different matter when we’re thrown together to fight for our lives.”
Dakin Littlefield suggested that was a rather dramatic way of putting it. “If there’s a killer among us,” he said, “and that’s a pretty big if, all we have to do is wait him out. Yes, the phone lines are down and the bridge is out, but sooner or later someone’s going to fail to reach us and inform the authorities, and the next thing you know there’ll be a helicopter full of state troopers landing on the front lawn. How long can that take, a day or two? Three days at the most?”
No one had any idea.
“Say three days,” Littlefield went on. “I understand there’s plenty of food and water, and the bar’s not about to run out of Scotch. We came here to get away from it all and I’d have to say we’ve succeeded beyond our wildest dreams.”
“But what do we do now?”
“Whatever we please,” he said. “Play Scrabble, read a good book, sit by the fire.” He glanced at his bride, and I suppose he had the right to look at her that way, running his eyes insolently over her body. After all, he was married to her and they were on their honeymoon. All the same, I can’t say I liked it. “I’m sure we can all find something to keep us amused,” he said, and his tone made it clear what form of amusement he was thinking of for himself.
“That’s great,” Carolyn said. “The two of you can run off and make a Dakin-and-Lettice sandwich. Meanwhile the killer sees who he can knock off next.”
That brought everybody up short. Miss Hardesty wondered how long we could expect the killing to go on. Miss Dinmont admitted she was frightened, and asked if anyone could furnish her with a pistol for her own protection, as she could neither fight off nor flee from an attacker. Mr. Quilp, who had appeared to have dozed off, straightened up in his seat and demanded to know what we were to do.
Someone suggested that we had to defend ourselves. That