A cold treachery - Charles Todd [72]
As he stepped inside he could smell the odor of fear and a heavier reek of burned toast. It was bitter in his nostrils.
The first thing he saw was the spattered blood on the floor. And shards of a broken teacup and saucer.
His mind flashed back to another kitchen he had seen not an hour before, and a man scrubbing the stubborn stains on the walls.
Dr. Jarvis was there, and Vera Cummins, her cheeks streaked with tears. And Elizabeth Fraser, pale and shaken, was submitting silently to the bandaging of her hand. Harry Cummins stood near the door to the passage, worry deepening the lines of fatigue, his eyes on Miss Fraser.
All looked up as Rutledge came in.
“What happened? Where's Robinson?” he asked.
“Robinson is in his bed. Under sedation,” Jarvis said grimly.
“I was coming down the passage with clean towels,” Elizabeth Fraser said, her voice trembling. “I heard a—a noise in Mr. Robinson's room. It sounded as if something heavy had fallen to the floor. I knocked, and then when there was no answer, I went in—”
She shivered, and looked up at Jarvis. The doctor was just tying off the bandage, a frown on his face.
She cleared her throat and went on. “He was on the floor. There were pieces of china all around him, and blood pouring from his wrist. He was just—staring at it. And when he saw me, he tried to slash the other wrist. I fought to stop him. Mr. Cummins heard the noise, and then Miss Ashton came running to help as well. It took all of us to subdue him—it was as if he had the strength of a dozen men. And all the while he kept calling for his children. It was horrible—I didn't think I could prevent him from— If it hadn't been for Harry, I'd have failed. We got him out here and used belts to tie him to a chair until the doctor could be sent for—”
She stopped, then said faintly, “I was frightened he'd succeed.”
Rutledge turned to the doctor. “How is he?”
“I think he's come to his senses,” Jarvis answered. “He was apologizing profusely to everyone—”
Rutledge brushed past them and walked down the passage to the guest rooms. He opened Robinson's door without ceremony. As it banged against the wall, Miss Ashton, who had been sitting beside the bed watching her former brother-in-law, started at the sound, turning to Rutledge with wide, startled eyes.
Robinson looked up at Rutledge blearily, and with an effort lifted himself to one elbow. There were bandages on his wrists and one across his chin. Blood stained the floor and the white cloth on the table that had held the yellow pitcher and bowl. They lay on the floor in bits.
“What in hell did you think you were doing?” Rutledge turned back to Robinson as Hamish, in the back of his mind, urged caution.
Hugh Robinson said, “I—I don't know—I think—I think I lost my mind—”
“It was a stupid, dangerous thing to try! You've hurt Miss Fraser, you've frightened everyone in the house, and you've wreaked havoc here and in the kitchen—and you've gained nothing!”
“You don't know what it's like—” Robinson began, tears in his eyes. “You don't know— That child is my son!”
“All the more reason to keep your head and help him when he's found.” He turned to Miss Ashton. “Is there a key to this door?”
“Yes—Miss Fraser passed them out last night, after dinner—”
“And the razor?”
“In the kitchen.”
“All right. Robinson, you're locked in until I see you've got yourself back under control. Your meals will be brought to you.”
He took the key, ushered Janet Ashton out into the passage, and shut the door.
She said, “He's grieving—”
“Nevertheless.” He turned the key and dropped it into his pocket.
She followed him back to the kitchen, still protesting.
Hamish was saying, “Ye've lost your temper because ye've wasted the morning! It isna' right to take your failure out on others.”
They reached the kitchen. The others watched him, disturbed by something they read in his face.
“Is he all right?” Mrs. Cummins asked. “He's a guest here; I can't imagine what went wrong! We've done all we can to make everyone comfortable, but it's hard, you see—”
He could smell the whiskey on her breath.