The Weak-Eyed Bat

Ralph raised his head. “Oh. Hello, Dr. Prye.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Lousy.”

“Want to talk?”

“No.”

Prye smiled. “You have to some time. They have a new policeman on the job and he doesn’t care if your aunt owns all Muskoka. I think he’d like to know what you and Joan were talking about yesterday afternoon.”

“It’s got nothing to do with her death.”

“I saw you going home afterward. You looked upset.”

“I was,” Ralph said. “I wanted to kill myself. I went home to do it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t have anything to do it with,” Ralph said.

“Did she give you back her ring?”

“No.”

Prye frowned. “Funny. She wasn’t wearing it when she was found.”

“She didn’t give it back.”

“Was it a good fit?”

“Of course. I had it made for her.”

“It couldn’t have slipped off?”

Ralph shook his head.

“Was it an expensive ring?” Prye asked.

“Not very. I paid about a thousand dollars for it. Why are you interested in her ring?”

“At two o’clock you were talking to Joan and she was wearing a thousand-dollar ring. She did not give it to you. She had no opportunity to pawn it. It wasn’t found in her room and she wasn’t wearing it. I’d like to know where it is.”

Ralph seemed uninterested. “Sorry. I can’t help you.”

“She kept the ring but she sent you away yesterday, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Was she angry at you or was it done in cold blood?”

Ralph looked sick. “She wasn’t angry.”

“She gave you a reason, though?”

“She said she was going away and not coming back.”

“Was she going with anyone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did she ask you for any money?”

Ralph hesitated a moment and then shook his head.

“Hattie Brown says you were in the house for half an hour. It didn’t take Joan half an hour to say what you’ve told me. She embellished her remarks, I gather?”

Ralph tugged at his collar again and the button came off and rolled along the floor. He bent over to pick it up, mumbling, “Sorry.”

Prye lit a cigarette, inhaled, and began once more. “Last night after dinner you went out. Mind telling me where?”

“I went for a walk. Aunt Emily was getting on my nerves. She kept pounding on my door. She thought I was packing to go away with Joan. So I skipped out while she was having her dinner.”

“Where did you walk?”

“I don’t remember.”

“In what direction?”

Ralph looked up, bewildered. “Why, you suspect me!”

Prye sighed. “Cheer up. Everybody suspects me.”

“But... but in the summer we all go out after dinner. It’s the best time of day.”

“That’s the trouble. A lot of people were out last night presumably taking the air, but at least one of them was doing more. Perhaps it was you. Or Susan. Or Miss Alfonse.” He emphasized the last name and Ralph started to flush. “If by any chance you were taking a walk with Miss Alfonse it would make your future look brighter in one sense at least.”

“Well, I was taking a walk with Miss Alfonse,” Ralph said hurriedly. “We wanted to discuss my aunt’s condition. After all, I’m her nephew.”

“Very touching,” Prye said. “Wang tells me that you and Miss Alfonse had another discussion a little while ago. Was that about your aunt’s condition, too?”

Ralph collapsed in a chair. “Why is everybody picking on me? I didn’t murder Joan. She didn’t give me my ring back. I don’t know anything about anything.”

“I’m convinced,” Prye said. “But perhaps when your brain has had a little nourishment knowledge will descend on you. You’d better go and have your dinner.”

“Do you really think that would help?”

“No,” Prye said.

He walked to the door slowly, hoping Ralph would call him back and reveal all. As nothing of the kind happened, he slammed the door behind him and went in search of Wang.

“The next time two people go into that library for a private discussion sneak out and listen at the window,” he told Wang.

Wang nodded sadly. “The doors are unnecessarily thick. Only Miss Bonner’s voice is sufficient to penetrate.”

“But particularly watch the big black nurse.”

“I watch incessantly inasmuch as the demons whisper as she walks.”

“Starch.”

“Some persons say so. But my ears are attuned to demons and my eyes quick to see their fingers plucking at her dress. Persons who are not me miss these manifestations.”

“I don’t suppose these demons took it into their heads to murder Joan Frost?”

“They have no heads,” Wang said solemnly.

“All right, if you say so. Has Miss Bonner had her dinner?”

“Miss Bonner has eaten hugely. She will not be pleased to see you.”

Nor was she.

“Well?” she demanded when he opened the door. She was sitting in her wheelchair. Wrapped in a blue negligee which was covered improbably with pink feathers, she was like a huge and terrifying tropical bird.

“Well?” she said again.

“I was just passing,” Prye said glibly, “and I thought I’d drop in and see how you were.”

“Passing? Where to? I’m not at all well. I have an excruciating pain in my heart. Go away.”

“I’m not surprised. The pain is gas, and the cause is overeating.”

Emily snorted. “Overeating! I merely peck at my food. What do you want, Prye? Speak and go.”

Prye settled himself in a chair without haste. “Have you seen the new policeman in charge?”

“No.”