To this day, McGinity believes that when he fired that last shot, the bullet ricocheted off a stone and entered a vital spot in Mr. Zzyx's body; and that the creature was as good as dead when he plunged from the parapet. I never did believe that. For that matter, we had no means of knowing the truth, for the body was never recovered from its watery grave.
I doubt if Pat heard much of the stress and sound of battle. She insists that she did. She must have slipped off in a faint, and had had time to come out of it when McGinity burst the door open and released her. He found her crumpled up in the small closet space, like a pale flower broken in the storm. She gazed up at him dazedly, but with a faint smile.
By the time they got down to the island dock, the water seemed filled with private launches, wealthy residents living along the North Shore having been attracted to the scene by the fire. A belated fire-boat began spouting water on the smoldering ruins of the shanty as they cast off in the runabout for the mainland.
As soon as McGinity had given me a quick summary of what had happened, and Pat had enjoyed a good cry in my embrace, I advised keeping everything quiet until we could report to the proper police authorities. When we reached the castle, we were surprised to find village policemen all over the place. It seems that Jane, on being told of the fire, had ordered Schweizer to summon the village fire department, but the butler was so excited that he dialed the wrong number, and got the police station. Furthermore, he never mentioned the fire. A touch of comedy which is never far away from tragedy.
It was perhaps just as well, as everything had to come out eventually. To Chief of Police Meigs, of Sands Cliff village, I gave a clear account of the whole wretched affair, which caused even that big, grim-faced individual to shudder. McGinity was feeling pretty sick himself over the death of Mr. Zzyx. To hear him talk about it, and the way he carried on, you would think he was guilty of premeditated murder, and would have to answer to the law.
Something of his mental unrest must have reached the Chief of Police, for, just as the Chief was leaving, he put his hand gently on the reporter's shoulder, and said: "Now, you quit your worrying, son. We'll fix this up, all right."
There were more bad minutes for us both when Pat and Jane found out about Niki. It was pretty terrible to hear them go on. But an hour after the police had arrived, Niki's body had been removed to the village mortuary, and all signs of blood stealthily and carefully removed by the servants, while the furnishings of the various rooms and halls, which had sustained damage during the rampage, were replaced as far as possible, and some semblance of the former formality of things restored.
Naturally, we were again overrun by city reporters, to whom, acting as spokesman, I gave only the absolutely necessary facts. Unwittingly, McGinity had now got himself mixed up in the news, and for the first time in his brief reportorial career, publicity was the last thing on earth he wanted, or was at all interested in. I spared him as much as possible, for I quickly realized he was laboring under the delusion that to have his name linked to Pat's in his tragic encounter with Mr. Zzyx would cause her much embarrassment, if not unpleasantness. But I happened to know that Pat didn't mind in the least; in fact, that she was very proud of the association of their names, even in these most sordid and harrowing circumstances.
Henry returned from his long motor drive a little after five o'clock. I would have given a king's ransom to have avoided meeting him, and disclosing the drama of crime that had been enacted during his absence, involving the loss of two lives.
Fortunately, I was relieved of this very unpleasant duty. As it turned out, Chief of Police Meigs had met Henry on the road, recognized his car, and stopped him. So he had a rather fair idea of what had occurred. I could plainly see the news weighed on him heavily, betrayed by his white face, quivering hands, and the pathetic droop of his mouth.