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The Floating Press - Roberts Rinehart Mary

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147 pages

English

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Fans of golden-age mystery fiction, you're definitely in for a treat. This novel has it all: skillful writing, a drum-tight plot, and snappy, witty dialogue. The Circular Staircase is about Rachel Innes, a well-to-do woman of a certain age. Her Pittsburgh manse is in need of an overhaul, so she decides to spend some time at the country home of a friend to escape the hustle and bustle of the remodeling process. But what appears at first to be a quaint rural outpost soon reveals itself to be the epicenter of a beguiling puzzle.

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 février 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776530137
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE
* * *
MARY ROBERTS RINEHART

*
The Circular Staircase First published in 1908 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-013-7 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-014-4 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - I Take a Country House Chapter II - A Link Cuff-Button Chapter III - Mr. John Bailey Appears Chapter IV - Where is Halsey? Chapter V - Gertrude's Engagement Chapter VI - In the East Corridor Chapter VII - A Sprained Ankle Chapter VIII - The Other Half of the Line Chapter IX - Just Like a Girl Chapter X - The Traders Bank Chapter XI - Halsey Makes a Capture Chapter XII - One Mystery for Another Chapter XIII - Louise Chapter XIV - An Egg-Nog and a Telegram Chapter XV - Liddy Gives the Alarm Chapter XVI - In the Early Morning Chapter XVII - A Hint of Scandal Chapter XVIII - A Hole in the Wall Chapter XIX - Concerning Thomas Chapter XX - Doctor Walker's Warning Chapter XXI - Fourteen Elm Street Chapter XXII - A Ladder Out of Place Chapter XXIII - While the Stables Burned Chapter XXIV - Flinders Chapter XXV - A Visit from Louise Chapter XXVI - Halsey's Disappearance Chapter XXVII - Who is Nina Carrington? Chapter XXVIII - A Tramp and the Toothache Chapter XXIX - A Scrap of Paper Chapter XXX - When Churchyards Yawn Chapter XXXI - Between Two Fireplaces Chapter XXXII - Anne Watson's Story Chapter XXXIII - At the Foot of the Stairs Chapter XXXIV - The Odds and Ends
Chapter I - I Take a Country House
*
This is the story of how a middle-aged spinster lost her mind, desertedher domestic gods in the city, took a furnished house for the summerout of town, and found herself involved in one of those mysteriouscrimes that keep our newspapers and detective agencies happy andprosperous. For twenty years I had been perfectly comfortable; fortwenty years I had had the window-boxes filled in the spring, thecarpets lifted, the awnings put up and the furniture covered with brownlinen; for as many summers I had said good-by to my friends, and, afterwatching their perspiring hegira, had settled down to a delicious quietin town, where the mail comes three times a day, and the water supplydoes not depend on a tank on the roof.
And then—the madness seized me. When I look back over the months Ispent at Sunnyside, I wonder that I survived at all. As it is, I showthe wear and tear of my harrowing experiences. I have turned verygray—Liddy reminded me of it, only yesterday, by saying that a littlebluing in the rinse-water would make my hair silvery, instead of ayellowish white. I hate to be reminded of unpleasant things and Isnapped her off.
"No," I said sharply, "I'm not going to use bluing at my time of life,or starch, either."
Liddy's nerves are gone, she says, since that awful summer, but she hasenough left, goodness knows! And when she begins to go around with alump in her throat, all I have to do is to threaten to return toSunnyside, and she is frightened into a semblance ofcheerfulness,—from which you may judge that the summer there wasanything but a success.
The newspaper accounts have been so garbled and incomplete—one of themmentioned me but once, and then only as the tenant at the time thething happened—that I feel it my due to tell what I know. Mr.Jamieson, the detective, said himself he could never have done withoutme, although he gave me little enough credit, in print.
I shall have to go back several years—thirteen, to be exact—to startmy story. At that time my brother died, leaving me his two children.Halsey was eleven then, and Gertrude was seven. All theresponsibilities of maternity were thrust upon me suddenly; to perfectthe profession of motherhood requires precisely as many years as thechild has lived, like the man who started to carry the calf and endedby walking along with the bull on his shoulders. However, I did thebest I could. When Gertrude got past the hair-ribbon age, and Halseyasked for a scarf-pin and put on long trousers—and a wonderful helpthat was to the darning.—I sent them away to good schools. Afterthat, my responsibility was chiefly postal, with three months everysummer in which to replenish their wardrobes, look over their lists ofacquaintances, and generally to take my foster-motherhood out of itsnine months' retirement in camphor.
I missed the summers with them when, somewhat later, at boarding-schooland college, the children spent much of their vacations with friends.Gradually I found that my name signed to a check was even more welcomethan when signed to a letter, though I wrote them at stated intervals.But when Halsey had finished his electrical course and Gertrude herboarding-school, and both came home to stay, things were suddenlychanged. The winter Gertrude came out was nothing but a succession ofsitting up late at night to bring her home from things, taking her tothe dressmakers between naps the next day, and discouraging ineligibleyouths with either more money than brains, or more brains than money.Also, I acquired a great many things: to say lingerie forunder-garments, "frocks" and "gowns" instead of dresses, and thatbeardless sophomores are not college boys, but college men. Halseyrequired less personal supervision, and as they both got their mother'sfortune that winter, my responsibility became purely moral. Halseybought a car, of course, and I learned how to tie over my bonnet a graybaize veil, and, after a time, never to stop to look at the dogs onehas run down. People are apt to be so unpleasant about their dogs.
The additions to my education made me a properly equipped maiden aunt,and by spring I was quite tractable. So when Halsey suggested campingin the Adirondacks and Gertrude wanted Bar Harbor, we compromised on agood country house with links near, within motor distance of town andtelephone distance of the doctor. That was how we went to Sunnyside.
We went out to inspect the property, and it seemed to deserve its name.Its cheerful appearance gave no indication whatever of anything out ofthe ordinary. Only one thing seemed unusual to me: the housekeeper,who had been left in charge, had moved from the house to the gardener'slodge, a few days before. As the lodge was far enough away from thehouse, it seemed to me that either fire or thieves could complete theirwork of destruction undisturbed. The property was an extensive one:the house on the top of a hill, which sloped away in great stretches ofgreen lawn and clipped hedges, to the road; and across the valley,perhaps a couple of miles away, was the Greenwood Club House. Gertrudeand Halsey were infatuated.
"Why, it's everything you want," Halsey said "View, air, good water andgood roads. As for the house, it's big enough for a hospital, if ithas a Queen Anne front and a Mary Anne back," which was ridiculous: itwas pure Elizabethan.
Of course we took the place; it was not my idea of comfort, being muchtoo large and sufficiently isolated to make the servant questionserious. But I give myself credit for this: whatever has happenedsince, I never blamed Halsey and Gertrude for taking me there. Andanother thing: if the series of catastrophes there did nothing else, ittaught me one thing—that somehow, somewhere, from perhaps ahalf-civilized ancestor who wore a sheepskin garment and trailed hisfood or his prey, I have in me the instinct of the chase. Were I a manI should be a trapper of criminals, trailing them as relentlessly as nodoubt my sheepskin ancestor did his wild boar. But being an unmarriedwoman, with the handicap of my sex, my first acquaintance with crimewill probably be my last. Indeed, it came near enough to being my lastacquaintance with anything.
The property was owned by Paul Armstrong, the president of the Traders'Bank, who at the time we took the house was in the west with his wifeand daughter, and a Doctor Walker, the Armstrong family physician.Halsey knew Louise Armstrong,—had been rather attentive to her thewinter before, but as Halsey was always attentive to somebody, I hadnot thought of it seriously, although she was a charming girl. I knewof Mr. Armstrong only through his connection with the bank, where thechildren's money was largely invested, and through an ugly story aboutthe son, Arnold Armstrong, who was reported to have forged his father'sname, for a considerable amount, to some bank paper. However, thestory had had no interest for me.
I cleared Halsey and Gertrude away to a house party, and moved out toSunnyside the first of May. The roads were bad, but the trees were inleaf, and there were still tulips in the borders around the house. Thearbutus was fragrant in the woods under the dead leaves, and on the wayfrom the station, a short mile, while the car stuck in the mud, I founda bank showered with tiny forget-me-nots. The birds—don't ask me whatkind; they all look alike to me, unless they have a hall mark of somebright color—the birds were chirping in the hedges, and everythingbreathed of peace. Liddy, who was born and bred on a brick pavement,got a little bit down-spirited when the crickets began to chirp, orscrape their legs together, or whatever it is they do, at twilight.
The first night passed quietly enough. I have always been grateful forthat one night's peace; it shows what the country might be, underfavorable circumstances. Never after that night did I put my head onmy pillow with any assurance how long it would be there; or on myshoulders, for that matter.
On the following morning Liddy and Mrs. Rals