‘Yes, indeed. Which leads us to the last act. One day, cries and moans were heard coming from Harvey’s room. He was found on the floor, on the sill of the open door, suffering from atrocious convulsions. He was rolling around on the floor, wild with rage and pain. His suffering ended just a few minutes later: he was dead. The doctors who examined the body were uncertain as to the cause of death. Heart attack? Due to a fit of anger or fear? They certified he wasn’t poisoned or victim of any other kind of foul play and that he died of a heart attack. There were no clues to be found in his room which could explain the mysterious circumstances of his death. The only peculiar thing — and, if my memory is correct, it was told to my mother by one of the maids, not my father — was that there was a wet patch on the carpet in front of the fireplace. And that’s not all: just before he died in agony Harvey had babbled out strange and disconcerting words: “Will perish… sinned… will perish by fire… will perish by fire.”’
Harris struck a match and contemplated the flame before finishing his story:
‘And, some time later, at a party given by some friends, Thomas, Stephen and Agatha all perished in a terrible fire. Only our grandmother Rosemary — Stephen’s wife — escaped. She was pregnant at the time. But before she delivered our father, she gave orders for Harvey’s room to be permanently sealed. Grandmother lived long enough to see us both born, Brian and me, but we have no personal memories of her or our father, because they both perished in a ship that went down… as the result of a fire.’
‘Well,’ sighed Sarah, ‘what a story! And you said there was nothing extraordinary about it… What’s more, you told it as if you had no doubts about its accuracy.’
‘I did get a bit carried away,’ admitted Harris, ‘but you have to try and treat the story seriously, don’t you think?’
‘Even so,’ observed Howard Hilton thoughtfully, ‘your great-uncle must have had the gift of clairvoyance. First, the death of his father, then his last words about death by fire—.’
‘Hang on, Mr. Hilton,’ cut in Harris. ‘As I said, one has to be wary of any testimony that’s not first hand. Changes can occur in the retelling: details, nuances, additions and omissions reflecting subconscious desires. In addition to which, dying words are often indistinct. Maybe Harvey only uttered the single word “fire.” As for fire being responsible for the death of some family members, that could be sheer coincidence. Unless anyone has another explanation?’
No one said a word.
‘Good,’ said Harris, stretching his arms. ‘Nevertheless, I won’t hide from you that there are several points I do find peculiar. So peculiar, I can’t imagine they could have been invented.’
‘The strange atmosphere in the room?’ asked Paula eagerly.
Harris smiled indulgently:
‘No. That’s exactly the kind of retrospective impression created by the appropriate atmosphere, evil in this case. What I was thinking of, in the first place, were the circumstances of Harvey’s death. From what we know about him, he was the quiet type. Which in and of itself, obviously, doesn’t rule out a heart attack. But how does one explain that convulsive state, and the fact that he was found on the sill of the room? That last point is what bothers me the most, because it’s not the kind of detail that’s likely to have been invented. After all, it’s hardly dramatic.’
‘So, if I understand you correctly,’ interjected Mr. Hilton, ‘the more absurd the detail, the more you are likely to believe it?’
‘Exactly. And then there’s that other detail: the damp patch on the carpet.’
‘Quite,’ agreed Mr. Hilton. ‘It seems highly unlikely anyone would graft such a detail on to the story to make it appear more sinister.’
‘Maybe there’s a simple explanation,’ suggested Francis. ‘The glass on the table and the bottles he’d brought in. He just knocked them all over during his convulsions.’
Harris shook his head:
‘My mother asked the same question of the maid, who was categorical: that explanation wasn’t possible because of the position of the table — against the wall opposite the fireplace. At least, it couldn’t have happened accidentally. Of course, one can’t rule out that Harvey deliberately splashed water on the carpet, for whatever reason… to amuse himself? But I don’t believe so. He was mad, but not to that point.’
‘Water,’ repeated Paula dreamily. ‘Water whose presence can’t be explained in two specific places: on a carpet and in a large glass. But was it really water?’
Harris, amused by his sister-in-law’s interest, shrugged off the question. Paula returned to the attack.
‘Another thing: just now you spoke of an evil spirit hiding in the shadows and the possible existence of an actual ghost.’
‘My goodness!’ exclaimed Harris with a broad smile. ‘My dear Paula, you and Brian make quite a pair. You both believe in ghosts.’
‘But so do you, by your own words.’
