The Vengeance of the Dead Page #4

"The Vengeance of the Dead" by Robert Barr is a gripping mystery novel that revolves around themes of justice, revenge, and the supernatural. The story unfolds as a series of strange and deadly occurrences plague a small community, leading the characters to confront their pasts and the unresolved grievances that haunt them. With compelling characters and an intricate plot, Barr weaves a tale that explores the fine line between vengeance and moral righteousness, leaving readers questioning the true nature of justice as the specters of the past come back to demand their due.

• Short story

								


"I know you thought so."

"I did; so did your own legal adviser, by the way. Well, now let me ask
why you are so bitter against me? Why not murder the judge who charged
against you, or the jury that unanimously gave a verdict in our favour?
I was merely an instrument, as were they."

"It was your devilish trickiness that won the case."

"That statement is flattering but untrue. The case was its own best
advocate. But you haven't answered the question. Why not murder judge
and jury?"

"I would gladly do so if I had them in my power. You see, I am
perfectly logical."

"Quite, quite," said the lawyer. "I am encouraged to proceed. Now of
what did my devilish trickiness rob you?"

"Of my property, and then of my life."

"I deny both allegations, but will for the sake of the argument admit
them for the moment. First, as to your property. It was a possession
that might at any moment be jeopardised by the return of Bernard
Heaton."

"By the real Bernard Heaton--yes."

"Very well then. As you are now repossessed of the property, and as you
have the outward semblance of Heaton, your rights cannot be questioned.
As far as property is concerned you are now in an unassailable position
where formerly you were in an assailable one. Do you follow me?"

"Perfectly."

"We come (second) to the question of life. You then occupied a body
frail, bent, and diseased, a body which, as events showed, gave way
under exceptional excitement. You are now in a body strong and healthy,
with apparently a long life before it. You admit the truth of all I
have said on these two points?"

"I quite admit it."

"Then to sum up, you are now in a better position--infinitely--both as
regards life and property, than the one from which my malignity--
ingenuity I think was your word--ah, yes--trickiness--thanks--removed
you. Now why cut your career short? Why murder me? Why not live
out your life, under better conditions, in luxury and health, and thus
be completely revenged on Bernard Heaton? If you are logical, now is
the time to show it."

Allen rose slowly, holding the pistol in his right hand.

"You miserable scoundrel!" he cried. "You pettifogging lawyer--tricky
to the last! How gladly you would throw over your friend to prolong
your own wretched existence! Do you think you are now talking to a
biased judge and a susceptible, brainless jury? Revenged on Heaton? I
am revenged on him already. But part of my vengeance involves
your death. Are you ready for it?"

Allen pointed the revolver at Grey, who had now also risen, his face
ashen. He kept his eyes fastened on the man he believed to be mad. His
hand crept along the wall. There was intense silence between them.
Allen did not fire. Slowly the lawyer's hand moved towards the electric
button. At last he felt the ebony rim and his fingers quickly covered
it. In the stillness, the vibrating ring of an electric bell somewhere
below was audible. Then the sharp crack of the revolver suddenly split
the silence. The lawyer dropped on one knee, holding his arm in the air
as if to ward off attack. Again the revolver rang out, and Grey plunged
forward on his face. The other five shots struck a lifeless body.

A stratum of blue smoke hung breast high in the room as if it were the
departing soul of the man who lay motionless on the floor. Outside were
excited voices, and some one flung himself ineffectually against the
stout locked door.

Allen crossed the room and, turning the key, flung open the door. "I
have murdered your master," he said, handing the revolver butt forward
to the nearest man. "I give myself up. Go and get an officer."
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