The Silver Ghost by Charlotte MacLeod

conceded. “I expect, though, that Wouter was thinking in terms of a practical operation. That means the door ought to shut automatically as soon as a car’s been driven past some point or other. Like for instance this big eye he’s put smack in the middle of the wall with ‘Here’s looking at you’ scratched around it. I thought there was something peculiar about that pupil, but since I didn’t get any action when I waved my hand in front of it, I decided it must be only a glass bead he’d imbedded in the mortar. This must be Wouter’s interpretation of an electric eye.”
    Max picked up a long pole intended for opening the high windows, and waved it in front of the eye. The door swung shut. Again they faced a solid concrete wall.
    “How come they ever let that guy Wouter run around loose?” Myre demanded. “For Pete’s sake, anybody who took the trouble to read that stuff he wrote on the wall might have figured this out ages ago.”
    “Anybody who could get past the locked gate and the electrified fence,” Max agreed.
    “Meaning friends and family, right? I don’t know about you, Mr. Bittersohn, but if those had been my Rolls Royces that got stolen, I wouldn’t go after any gang of professional car thieves. I’d start wondering which of my brothers-in-law was in trouble with the bookies.”
    “Which would be a damn sight sounder premise than the one Grimpen’s working on,” said Max, “but you never know. This secret door opens up a new dimension, as you might say.”
    “I’ll say it does.”
    A bit sheepishly, Sergeant Myre swung his boot at the little heart. The door swung open. A woman screamed.
    “What did I do?” Myre started through the opening.
    Max hauled him back. “Watch it, you’ll activate the electric eye and get slammed by the door. It’s all right.”
    An electric go-cart had appeared on the bluestoned path. In it sat two women. The small one in green with the hennin was perfectly self-possessed. The tall one in the scarlet gown and the padded beige satin headdress wound with pearls was close to hysterics.
    “Was it a bomb?” cried Melisande.
    “No,” said Max. “Come on, drive the cart inside.”
    Nehemiah Billingsgate’s daughter obeyed, and the door closed behind the cart. “I don’t believe this. What did you do?”
    “Discovered one of Wouter Tolbathy’s little jokes. Didn’t any of you ever take a good look at his graffiti?”
    “I certainly didn’t.” Melisande climbed out of the cart, guarding her billows of flame-colored satin. She was a sturdily built woman of forty “Or thereabout, fair and rosy like her parents but taller than either of them. The flamboyant Renaissance costume suited her. “What did I miss?”
    “See this?” Max bent and pointed out the small heart down at the right-hand corner of the again solid wall.
    “It’s a heart. What about it?”
    “There are initials inside,” said Myre.
    “I can’t read them without my glasses. What does it say?”
    “K.I. and C.K.”
    “So what? C.K. must-be one of the Kellings, I suppose, but who’s K.I.? Can you think of anybody, Sarah?”
    “Try it without the plus sign in the middle,” Sarah suggested. “Does it actually work, Max?”
    “Watch.”
    It was so simple when one knew how. Melisande Purbody’s large blue eyes opened wide and stayed that way. “Does Daddy know?”
    “I’m sure he doesn’t,” Max replied. “Sergeant Myre here and I just discovered it.”
    Melisande turned to the policeman. “Oh, hi, Reggie. I’m glad it’s you and not old Beanhead. How come your boss isn’t here, standing around looking impressive?”
    “He was but he had to go. He’s in a bridge tournament at that fancy club he and his missus belong to. He left me to mind the body.”
    Max cocked an eyebrow at Sarah. She nodded.
    “I told Melisande on the way here. I thought she ought to know.”
    “It’s awful,” said Bill’s daughter. “Poor old Rufe! I’m keeping a stiff upper lip till