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Updated: June 23, 2025
"We have here some grand prospects," said the Colonel, and truly enough the view from the great, high, wide window was a very fine one. I perceived that the grounds of Cray's Folly were extensive and carefully cultivated.
For instance, I wanted to see if all lights were out at the Guest House." "And were they?" I asked, eagerly. "They were. Secondly," he continued, "I wanted to convince myself that there were no nocturnal prowlers from within or without." "What do you mean by within or without?" "Listen, Knox." He bent toward me in the dark, grasping my shoulder firmly. "One window in Cray's Folly was lighted up."
The atmosphere of Cray's Folly seemed to become charged with unrest. Of Madame de Staemer and Miss Beverley I saw nothing up to the time that I retired to dress. Having dressed I walked into Harley's room, anxious to learn if he had formed any theory to account for the singular business which had brought us to Surrey.
"These gentlemen very kindly called to advise me of the tragic occurrence at Cray's Folly," explained Colin Camber. "Won't you be seated, Inspector?" "Thanks, but I can conduct my examination better standing." He turned to Paul Harley. "Might I ask, Mr. Harley," he said, "what concern this is of yours?"
Camber had been waiting up here night after night on the off-chance that Colonel Menendez would appear in the grounds of Cray's Folly?" "No, I don't. I have got that worked out." "Indeed? You interest me." "Mr. Camber has an accomplice at Cray's Folly." "What?" exclaimed Harley, and into his keen grey eyes crept a look of real interest. "He has an accomplice," repeated the Inspector.
Higher we mounted and higher, the engine running strongly and smoothly; then, presently, we were out upon a narrow open road with the crescent of the hills sweeping away on the right and dense woods dipping valleyward to the left and behind us. The chauffeur turned, and, meeting my glance: "Cray's Folly, sir," he said.
I thought of the Colonel's covert references to a neighbour whom he feared, of his guarded statement that the devotees of Voodoo were not confined to the West Indies, of the attack upon him in Washington, of the bat wing pinned to the door of Cray's Folly.
Camber," I cried, with concern, "are you unwell?" He moistened his dry lips, and: "You are returning to Cray's Folly?" he said, speaking, it seemed, with difficulty. "I am, sir. I am staying with Colonel Menendez." "Ah!" He clutched the collar of his pyjama jacket and wrenched so strongly that the button was torn off. His passion was incredible, insane. The power of speech had almost left him.
"Of course you realize that there is one person in Cray's Folly who holds the clue to the heart of the mystery?" "Madame de Staemer?" He nodded grimly. "When the rifle cracked out, Knox, she knew! Remember, no one had told her the truth. Yet can you doubt that she knows?" "I don't doubt it." "Neither do I." He clenched his teeth tightly and beat his fists upon the coverlet.
So quickly does evil news fly that, between mid-day and the hour of Harley's return, no fewer than five reporters, I believe, presented themselves at Cray's Folly. Some of the more persistent continued to haunt the neighbourhood, and I had withdrawn to the deserted library, in order to avoid observation, when I heard a car draw up in the courtyard, and a moment later heard Harley asking for me.
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