 In this cave, by the restless sea, we are met to call from out the past, stories, strange, and weird. Bellkeeper, hold the bell, so all may know we are gathered again in the weird circle. I speak again, Mary Mottle-Tale, the Night's Bridge mystery. I killed Gardner, incredible part. I killed him. It is sitting here next to me, now. Sitting in his usual chair by the fireplace here at the Old Night's Bridge, acting as if nothing unusual had happened. How can a man be dead and alive at the same time? I remember the whole thing so clearly. It was just two days ago, two short days ago. Last Saturday, to be exact. Gardner's a landowner, and had just collected his rents. The banks were closed, so he hid the money in his room here, and his room is next to mine. And it was all so easy. It was raining that day. Yes, it was raining hard enough to drown out the screams of a man being murdered. Gardner, Professor Nelson, and myself were sitting around the fire, just as we're sitting now. And I needed money. I needed it desperately. Not for myself, I don't count any more, but for my son, my boy Jack. He's 21, and a man needs money to keep his son in college. I'd done everything I could think of to raise that money. I'd even worn various disguises, wigs and makeup, and set on the steps of the bank in London to beg for farings. I imagine it. Me, Captain Cowan, being a beggar on the streets. And Gardner was rich, fat, rich, and alone. Nobody would miss him. That is, nobody but his fat, sleek cat. And I had my son, my boy Jack. I remember everything that happened that Saturday night. The three of us, Gardner, Professor Nelson, and myself, were sitting around the fireplace, and it was raining. Nasty night, isn't it, Mr Gardner? Yes, quite nasty, Professor Nelson. You know, I don't see why you scientists don't do something about the weather. Many men have thought about that very thing. Thinking. They ought to take action. Thought is idle. Action brings results. Oh, sink me if I haven't coined an epigram. Yes, they were talking about the weather, and I was thinking about killing Gardner. He had to die. That was obvious, and soon too, but how? And who would be the scapegoat to hang for the deed? Somebody would have to be, somebody, but who? I couldn't have managed to go downtown in this rain, even if the banks wasn't open today, blasted. Oh, it's confounded uncomfortable keeping large sums of money about you because of a conspiracy between the weather and the Bank of England. Surely the money is safe enough here, Mr Gardner. One would think so, but you never can tell. Nothing makes a man more jumpy than keeping a large sum of money in his top bureau drawer. Across there's always the danger of robbery. Robbery, yes. Or murder. Murder, Captain Cowan. Nobody in the Gardner family has died for generations. We, Gardners, just don't die, rather set against that sort of thing. You've made up your mind to it, eh, Gardner? Quite, quite, Professor. That should have been my first hint. He himself definitely said he couldn't die. As he said it then, but I thought he was joking. Nobody ever knew whether he was joking or not. He had a dry, soft way of joking, but I didn't realize that then. I just sat there when the door opened and the chambermaid came in to tidy up. I was hoping that everybody would remain in quiet so I could think the whole thing out. But she came toward us and... Anything I can do for you before I retire for the night, Professor Nelson? No, no, nothing, Barbara, nothing. Mr Gardner? No thanks. You get, girl, get your rest. You, Captain Cowan? Yes, as a matter of fact I've got to get on to London tonight. Tonight, Captain, in this weather? Yes, Mr Gardner, important business, sir. Sir, if it's not too much trouble, Barbara, you might tell Osler, Mr Cox, to settle my horse. I ain't going down to the stables to see Mr Cox, Captain. He ain't a man, Dan Cox, I think. He's a beast, he is. Oh, come, come, Barbara. Poor Dan Cox is no beast. He's an unfortunate victim of an accident which has reduced his mentality to about of a small child. Child, is it, Professor? He's an idiot. He'll murder a human someday, he will. It's not that bad, Barbara. Why, sure, the last person I'd expect to speak decent of him, Captain. He don't like you. He says he remembers you from somewhere. He don't remember, though. And I says to him, not to talk about a fine gentleman like you, I says. Now, there ought to be a hospital for the mentally unsound. Not only for idiots like poor Dan Cox, but for men whose minds are warped and twisted. And those people may be completely harmless, but they need medical care. What do you think, sir, Professor? I'm sure of it. I've conducted many interesting psychological experiments on the subject, Captain. I've even known men who think they've committed a crime. Is there anything else, gentlemen? Oh, no, no, thank you, Barbara. Good night, Barbara. Good night. Good night, Barbara. You interest me, Professor? It's a fascinating subject, Cowan. There was a man once who thought he had murdered his wife and two children. He went to the station house, confessed the murder, and then killed himself. And he hadn't committed the crime at all? No, not at all. No, not at all. Well, gentlemen, you must excuse me. If I'm going to get to London tonight, I must be off. Good night, gentlemen. Good night, Cowan. I shut the door behind me, very casually, just as if I really were going to London. I walked to the stable through the heavy rain. You see how clever I was? And they thought I was going to London. And they didn't even suspect that Gardner was going to die. The dark ring night was perfect for the murder. And Daniel Cox appeared to me to be a likely victim for the law. He was an idiot, a poor fool who would be completely helpless in my hands. And the townspeople would obviously believe anything against Dan Cox. I knocked on the stable door. Dan Cox! Dan Cox! Hello. Hello, Dan. I came down to visit you. Did you? Did you? Mind if I come in? In here with me? In the horses? Cox, you like me, don't you? I like everybody. Everybody. Everybody I like. Me in the horses. I saw you once somewhere, somewhere. But where, Captain? Where? Where? You're imagining things, Cox. I've been looking at you, Captain Cowan. Trying to remember. I've never seen you before. I came to visit you, Cox. Didn't you now? Didn't you? I wonder where you are. I came here, Cox, to argue. I came down here as a friend to ask a favor. Favor, Captain? You like this one, Cox. Barbara sent me down here to ask you to do her a favor. Barbara did? Barbara? Pretty Barbara? Yes, she is, Cox. And she likes you. She told me that she wouldn't trade all the fine gentlemen the inn for you. For me? Nobody likes me. Why, you misjudge yourself, Dan Cox. She asked me to get her a lock of your hair and a piece of your coat as a going away gift. Is Barbara going away? Yes, day after tomorrow. She's leaving the inn for good. A lock of my hair and a piece of my coat. I know. Women are funny. Hard to tell what they're thinking. Well, will you give it to me? Are you lying? Are you? Here, take my pocket knife. Here, you can snip it off yourself. Thank you, Captain. Thank you. Here's the claws in the air. Nobody ever liked me before. Just me horses. My horses. Thank you, Cox. Why do you look at me like that, Captain? I was thinking what a lucky man you are, Cox. Will you bridle my horse before you turn in for the night? I'll be leaving for London shortly. I shall all bridle Queenie right away. I walked back to the inn to say goodbye in case anyone was around. I had thought the whole plan out so carefully. Now I had evidence. The kind of evidence police officers looked for. A piece of Cox's coat was to be found on the edge of Gardner's bed and a lock of Cox's hair in the dead man's hand. That circumstantial evidence. The plan was working perfectly. I walked briskly to the door. I opened it and Professor Nelson was sitting by the fire looking into the flames. When I walked in, he started suddenly. Oh, haven't you left for London yet, Captain Coward? Not yet, Professor. Where's Mr Gardner? Oh, he took his cap with him and one of the birdies was tired. Won't you join me by the fire? This is some other time, Professor. But tonight I'd better start if I'm ever going to get there. Oh, yes, dear, yes. Oh, midnight. Oh, I must be tired. My reflexes work by the clock, sir. Definitely by the clock. I think I'd better retire myself. Oh, well, Captain. Pleasant journey. Good night. Good night. Oh, why don't you sleep here and wait till tomorrow, sir? Traveling's difficult in this weather. Sorry, I have important business in London, Professor. I stood in the living room, watching the old scholar slowly climb the stairs. He walked slowly, refusing to be hurried. And then I heard his door open and close. And I knew he was in his room. Then I waited for a short time and started to creep up the stairs to my room. I had to prepare my make-up for the change from the genius Cowan to the idiot Cox. Godin had to die. In less than a half hour had completed the transition. I stood in front of the mirror, looking at myself. I'd done a good job. That I knew that his guise was perfect. I was no longer Cowan. I was Cox, battered, bulbous nose and a raggedy coat and dagger. I crept slowly to my window and opened it. Planning every move and I... It was clever. So very clever. Then I crept carefully out on the ledge. Godin's window was open and barely four feet away. I moved slowly over the ledge like a cat in the night, step by step. Then it was slippery from the rain and the night was dark. Dark. But he had Godin's heavy readings. I crept through his window to his room. He was asleep. There was no moon in the sky this night to give me away. I walked slowly to his bedside, dagger appraised. And then I moved a cat. I'd almost forgotten his fat, sleek cat. Forgotten that mewling, spewing cat. But I was clever. I worked faster. Right to Godin's bedside and then I plunged dagger. And I... I remember his last breath. It was like the sound of a dying fire or the moaning of the wind. The futile gasping. And then he was dead. Dead. You see? You see, I did kill him. I remember every single detail and I was so clever. So very clever. I remember my cleverness. I killed him. I killed him. And yet he's alive. Godin is alive. Sitting here, mixed to me. I stood by his bedside and pulled the knife out of his heart. I placed a piece of Cox's coat on the edge of the bedside and a piece of his hair in the dead man's hand. Then ruffled up the bedclothes and started my search of the room. I opened the drawers, the closets. Every single hiding place possible was combed for the money. I heard footsteps outside the door. Did I hear somebody scream out? Is anything wrong? I had to work quickly, get the money, the money. Then I remember Gardner had said it was in the top bureau drawer in the corner. Yes, in the top bureau drawer. And there, there it was. The knock on the door just told me. Mr Gardner? Mr Gardner? Did you call me? I didn't know what to do. Answer and pretend I was Gardner. I had seen logical and clever. I streamed my voice and called out. Oh, yes, Barbara. What do you want now, girl? We're in your room, Mr Gardner. No, everything's all right. Good night, girl. I had to get out of there as soon as possible, back to my room. Out of the window, over the ledge, it had stopped raining. The moon was coming out, a bright full moon. It outlined my shadow on the ledge. And I remembered my own cleverness. If I was seen, they wouldn't see me. They'd see cocks, the half-wit cocks. I climbed in my window, clutching the money. I thought for a moment, I'd seen someone on the lawn watching me. Once in my room, I didn't move my makeup. I prepared to leave. With one clean stroke, the murdering cocks had disappeared. I was cowing again. I opened the door to the hall, down the hall to the stairs. I noticed a candle burning in the parlor. The chimney made me standing there in a pool of light. Talking to Nelson. That was a hitch in my plans. Professor, I tell you, I heard someone scream out. If you're half the man you claim to be, Professor, give your dad to that stable and find out what Dan Cox is up to. It ain't no good, I'll tell you that. Go back to bed, Barbara. Whatever Cox is up to. It can't be very dangerous. Go to bed, my dear. Good night. Good night, sir. Nelson started up the stairs. I had to hide, but where? The stairway was dark. I pressed myself against the wall into the shadows. Nelson came closer. Closer, he was close enough to touch me. I could only pray he wouldn't look my way when he turned on the landing. Is somebody up here? That silly woman is getting me all a flutter. Then he continued on upstairs. The girl stood in the middle of the parlor. And I was trapped. My heart beat wildly. I crept on down the stairs to listen. Who is it? Who is it? Barbara. Pretty, pretty Barbara. You understand me, you do. You can help me. What are you doing at the inn, Dan Cox? Go on, get back to the stable. You like me, don't you? I had to see somebody that likes me. Yes, I had to, because... Get away from me. Get away from me, Cox. I ain't gonna hurt you. Not hurt pretty Barbara. Let go of my arm. Let go, Cox. Barbara, pretty Barbara. I ain't two people, am I? I ain't two people. I saw myself standing on the ledge tonight. And I know myself by my nose in my eye. Let me go, Cox. I saw on the ledge looking down at me, standing on the grass near the inn. Two people. They both can't be me. I'm not one. I'm two, yes. And it don't make sense. Let me go, Cox. Let me take your hands off my throat. You're a pretty Barbara, pretty. Barbara. Get. I must be dreaming. That's it. I'll go back to the stable and go to sleep. And when I wake up, this won't have happened. I've been dreaming all along. Else, how could I be sitting on the ledge looking down at me, sitting on the grass? I'll go back to the stable and wake up. The idiot had fallen into my trap and I was pleased. So pleased. And very carefully, very slowly creeping to the parlor, and I stopped. I looked at the still body of the girl had the deathlike quality of her face and knew Cox would hang for a double murder. It's a double murder. That was fortunate for me. I opened the door and the moon shone fully upon me. I headed across the gravel path to the stable. My only thought was to get to London, to get to my boy, to my son, to Jack. I knocked on the door and called. Cox. Dan Cox. Do I look asleep, Captain? You look as if you might have been sleeping, Cox. Come, man, where's my horse? Hirosh. What horse? Queenie. Is Queenie saddled? I must be dreaming. I am asleep, ain't I, Captain? Because if I was awake, I couldn't be on the legend on the grass at the same time. Do I have to get my horse myself, Cox? I killed a woman, Captain. I killed her. Why are my two people? I killed her and it's your fault, Captain. It's all your fault. I hate you. I hate you. What are you talking about, Cox? You don't know, do you? No, you don't know. You told me she liked me. You said she wouldn't trade me for all the fine gentlemen in the inn. You said in your lies. Because she hates me. Are you insane, Cox? Do you think anyone would believe that story? The story of an idiot? Idiot, I'm not an idiot. I had an accident a long time ago. A funny accident. And sometimes I can't remember. Sometimes I... Stop it, Cox, and get my horse for me. Sometimes I can remember clear. Like sometimes I can remember who you are. And then again I can't. And you made me killer. And it's all your fault. Fool, I'll teach you a lesson. You'll never forget. Get out of my way. I'll settle my horse myself. I rode off leaving Cox sobbing like a baby in the corner. I went to London to my son. I paid his bills, gave him his allowance for the year and hid the rest of the money on my person. And then, this morning, I returned to the inn and found this. These men sitting here at the Old Knight's bridge in Chattingale. Barbara was serving them tea as if nothing happened. Nelson and Gardner asked me to join them at a fire. I sat down here, puzzled and confused. I know I killed him. I saw him die. And they started to talk. They've been talking for half an hour like this and I can't stand it anymore just sitting here waiting. I wasn't the matter with you anyway, Captain Gile. You've been quiet as can be ever since you came back from London. Yes, hasn't he? Amazing, isn't he? I took a trip to London myself Monday morning, but I didn't come back in a sad mood. London cheered me. Yes, I had got rid of that confounded pack of money I was carrying around. It had me blasted nervous. I can well imagine it did, Mr Gardner. I hear you're in for congratulations, Captain Cowan. Congratulations? Yes, we heard you'd want a packet of money in the Irish sweepstakes, almost £500. I didn't win money in the sweepstakes. I didn't. Oh, nonsense, Captain. Don't try to keep that from us. What are you trying to do to me? Drive me crazy? Drive me insane? I didn't win money in the sweepstakes. You're supposed to be dead, Gardner. Dead, you understand? I went through a lot of trouble to kill you. Yes, and I killed you with my own hands and stole the money. And Barbara was dead too. Cox killed her. You've got to believe me. I disguised myself to look like Cox and I killed Gardner. Yes, I killed him. You're dead, Gardner, and the dead can't rise from the grave. They can't. They can't. Answer me. Don't stand there looking at me. Answer me. Professor. Professor, tell me the truth. Yes, Captain Cowan. I'll tell you the truth. Barbara was not killed that night. She was merely frightened and fainted. But you murdered Mr Gardner in your own confession. You'd planned a perfect crime. A crime so perfect that Cox might have hung for Gardner's death if it hadn't been my little experiment. Experiment? What experiment? A psychological experiment, Captain. You see, I looked up your record and found out that you were an old border-bill actor and specialized in character parts. That's where Cox remembered you from. You were on the stage that he had his accident, so I played your own trick back on you. There's no way we could get you to admit your crime with the bring Gardner back to life. This gentleman is not Mr Gardner. He's just an actor, cleverer at makeup than you ever were. No, Captain Cowan. I wouldn't try to escape. Your confession has been taken down and the inn is surrounded by the police. From the time worn pages of the past, we have recalled the Night's Bridge mystery. Bell keepers, hold the battle.