The Mystery of the Blazing Cliffs - M. V. Carey [40]
“You never take off those gloves, do you, Lieutenant?” said Jupiter. He spoke quietly, but there was a mocking certainty in his voice that made Ferrante look towards him almost in fear.
“It must be rather uncomfortable to wear gloves in this weather,” said Jupe, “but it’s very important, isn’t it?”
Ferrante made a move as if he would leave, but Jupe went on and Ferrante did not leave. He listened.
“Yours is really a most artistic crime,” said Jupe. “It required a great deal of imagination. Of course, the raw materials for the plot were already here. You had a woman who believed in friendly space voyagers, and so you constructed a spaceship. You had a man who was preparing for a disaster that would destroy our civilization, and so you fabricated a disaster. You jammed the radios. I imagine you used CB transmitters in the hills around this ranch and you broadcast noise to block the signals from the commercial stations that are usually heard in this area.
“After you jammed the radios, you cut the television cables and telephone wires and power lines. The ranch was then isolated, and the stage was set for the appearance of a company of soldiers.”
The man with the rifle stirred nervously. “Hey!” he said. “Time’s awasting!”
Ferrante made a move as if to go to the door.
“Are you going to take off your gloves, Lieutenant?” said Jupe.
Ferrante stopped. His eyes went to Jupe’s face, searching, calculating.
“You’ve given a terrific performance,” said Jupe. “You were a man frightened almost out of his wits by strange events. You pretended to be a stutterer, terrified of Charles Barron, but bravely resolved to follow orders and not to let anyone off the ranch and out on to the road.
“And wasn’t Mr. Barron obliging? He posted sentries along his fence. He warned his employees about going off the ranch. He helped create the climate of fear.
“Then the spaceship took off from the meadow after the cliffs burned, and Simon de Luca, the herder, was found unconscious with his hair singed. The spaceship must have been carefully planned and constructed. A helium-filled balloon stretched over a framework, I imagine. De Luca’s appearance on the meadow surprised your men at first, but they decided to take advantage of it. They knocked de Luca out, singed his hair with a cigarette or a match, and left him to be found, supposedly the accidental victim of rocket fire. The illusion was to be completed by the appearance on the meadow of a person in a spacesuit—the one who kept me and my friends from leaving this morning.
“You hoped that Mr. Barron would be convinced that rescuers were coming to take him away, and eventually he was. You hoped that he would try to take his gold with him, and he did not. How disappointing for you!”
The lieutenant was like a statue, a deadly cold statue. His lips were a thin line and his eyes were hard. “Gold?” he said. “What do you know about gold?”
“About as much as you do,” said Jupe. “Barron distrusts banks and the government, so he has to trust in gold, and he has to keep his gold here on the ranch. This is his fortress.
Anyone could deduce that much. But to know all of the other things about the Barrons—
those things that you have found so useful in preparing your drama—you needed a spy.
You needed someone on the inside who could study the Barrons and report to you—let you know what was going on. It was someone very close to you, wasn’t it, Lieutenant? It was someone who used the same homey expression you used—a rattlesnake in a rainstorm.
Someone who has a deformity on her hand, very much like the one you have on yours—
except you hide yours by wearing gloves. It was your sister Elsie.”
There was a surging, electric quality to the silence in the kitchen. Elsie Spratt leaned forward and glared at Jupe. “I’m going to sue you!” she said.
“No, you won’t,” said Jupe. “You won’t sue anybody. You’re going to be too busy trying to defend yourself. Of course, you won’t be alone. The lieutenant is so well informed because there