The Curse of the Pharaohs - Elizabeth Peters [115]
Weak, very weak! I could almost hear Emerson’s jeer. The truth of the matter was I wanted Lady Baskerville to be the murderer. I never liked the woman.
I gazed disconsolately at my chart, which was not working as I had hoped. With a sigh I turned to a fresh page and tried another arrangement.
THE DEATH OF LORD BASKERVILLE
Suspect: Arthur Baskerville, alias Charles Milverton.
That had a fine, professional look to it. Emboldened, I went on:
Motive: inheritance and revenge. (So far, so good.)
In fact, Arthur’s motive was particularly strong. It accounted for his imbecilic behavior in presenting himself to his uncle incognito. This was the act of a romantic young idiot. Arthur was a romantic young idiot; but if he had planned in advance to kill his uncle, he had a very good reason for taking a false name. Once Baskerville was dead (how? curse it, how?) Arthur could return to Kenya, and it was most unlikely that anyone would have connected Arthur, Lord Baskerville, with the former Charles Milverton. He would probably claim the title and estates without ever going to England, and if he did have to go, he could make excuses to avoid Lady Baskerville.
With a start I realized that my chart had taken to wandering all over the page. I took a firm grip on my wits and my pencil, and returned to the proper form.
THE DEATH OF LORD BASKERVILLE
Suspect: Cyrus Vandergelt. His motives were only too clear. Contrary to the stern warning of Scripture, he had coveted his neighbor’s wife.
It was at that point I realized I had not discussed Arthur’s means or opportunity, or explained who had struck him down if he was the original killer.
Gritting my teeth, I turned the page over and tried again.
THE MURDER OF ALAN ARMADALE
This approach was based on the assumption that Lord Baskerville’s death was a red herring—or, to put it more elegantly, that his lordship had died a natural death; that the so-called mark on his brow was a meaningless stain, misinterpreted by sensation-seekers; and that the murderer had taken advantage of the furor following his lordship’s death to commit a murder whose true motive would be obscured.
The obvious suspect here was Mr. O’Connell. He had not only taken advantage of the story of the curse, he had invented it. I did not suppose that he had murdered Armadale in cold blood; no, the killing had obviously resulted from a sudden rush of jealous passion. Once the deed was done, a clever man—which O’Connell undoubtedly was—might have seen how he could avert suspicion by making Armadale’s death seem related to that of Lord Baskerville.
The same motive—love of Mary—could apply in the case of Karl von Bork. In my opinion he was not capable of the sort of grand passion that might drive a man to violence. But still waters run deep. And once or twice Karl had displayed hidden depths of feeling and of cunning.
By this time my chart had abandoned all pretense of form, and my random jottings, embodying the thoughts I have expressed in more developed form above, were sprawling all over the page. I studied it in some exasperation. My thought processes are always orderly. The case was simply not susceptible to this means of organization. It is all very well for writers of crime fiction; they invent the crime and the solution, so they can arrange things the way they like.
I decided to abandon the outline and let my thoughts stray where they would.
Solely on the basis of opportunity one would have to eliminate all the women from suspicion. Madame Berengeria’s motive was excellent; she might not be mad in the medical sense, but she was mad enough to destroy anyone who might wish to interfere with her selfish hold on her daughter. However, she and Mary resided on the east bank. The bodies had all been discovered on the west bank. I could not visualize either Mary or her mother scampering through the dark streets of Luxor, hiring