The Complete Philo Vance Murder Mystery Series (Illustrated Edition) by S.S. Van Dine

Author:S.S. Van Dine [Dine, S.S. Van]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788027222889
Publisher: Musaicum Books
Published: 2017-10-08T00:00:00+00:00

The head of the cover was now eight inches in the clear, and Vance was using both hands on the lever. He had to work with great care lest the jack slip from the smooth under-surface of the granite. Nine inches . . . ten inches . . . eleven . . . twelve. . . . The rack had almost reached its limit of elevation. With one final thrust downward, Vance released the lever and tested the solidity of the extended jack.

“It’s safe, I think. . . .”

Heath had already taken out his pocket-light and flashed it into the dark recesses of the sarcophagus.

“Mother o’ God!” he gasped.

I was standing just behind him, leaning over his broad shoulders; and simultaneously with the flare of his light I saw the horrifying thing that had made him call out. In the end of the sarcophagus was a dark, huddled human body, the back hunched upward and the legs hideously cramped, as if some one had hastily shoved it through the aperture, head first.

Markham stood bending forward like a person paralyzed in the midst of an action.

Vance’s quiet but insistent voice broke the tension of our horror.

“Hold your light steady, Sergeant. And you, Markham, lend me a hand. But be careful. Don’t touch the jack. . . .”

With great caution they reached into the sarcophagus and turned the body until the head was toward the widest point of the opening. A chill ran up my spine as I watched them, for I knew that the slightest jar, or the merest touch on the jack, would bring the massive granite lid down upon them. Heath, too, realized this—I could see the glistening beads of sweat on his forehead as he watched the dangerous operation with fearful eyes.

Slowly the body emerged through the small opening, and when the feet had passed over the edge of the sarcophagus and clattered to the floor, the flash-light went out, and Heath sprawled back on his haunches with a convulsive gasp.

“Hell! I musta stumbled, Mr. Vance,” he muttered. (I liked the Sergeant even more after that episode.)

Markham stood looking down at the inert body in stupefaction.

“Scarlett! ” he exclaimed in a voice of complete incredulity.

Vance merely nodded, and bent over the prostrate figure. Scarlett’s face was cyanosed, due to insufficient oxygenation of the blood; his eyes were set in a fixed bulging stare; and there was a crust formation of blood at his nostrils. Vance put his ear on the man’s chest and took his wrist in one hand to feel the pulse. Then he drew out his gold cigarette-case and held it before Scarlett’s lips. After a glance at the case he turned excitedly to Heath.

“The ambulance. Sergeant! Hurry! Scarlett’s still alive. . . .”

Heath dashed up the stairs and disappeared into the front hall.

Markham regarded Vance intently.

“I don’t understand this,” he said huskily.

“Nor do I—entirely.” Vance’s eyes were on Scarlett. “I advised him to keep away from here. He, too, knew the danger, and yet. . .

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