Mignon Eberhart - Wolf in Man’s Clothing

“No? You’re afraid of the police though, darling.”

“ You wouldn’t… ”

“Oh, wouldn’t I! I want half of Conrad’s money.”

“ Half !” she said scornfully.

“All right,” said Nicky. “If you won’t play, you can take what comes.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said again. “You tricked Conrad. He gave you money all year because you made him think you had induced Drue to go away with you.”

“Why not?” said Nicky softly and with the greatest good-humor. “Conrad wanted to get rid of Drue and he did. I’m always willing to be of service.”

“How exactly did you do that? I never asked; it seemed better not to know. But Drue hated you; I watched you trying to lure her away with your charm, Nicky dear; and I knew it when you failed.”

Nicky’s voice was less pleasant. “Oh, really? I tried to make love to her only to please you and Conrad. I wasn’t serious. Yes, she turned me down; she was furious, but I didn’t care. I”-a kind of complacence returned to his gentle voice-“I turned around and worked it a different way; I pretended to be her friend, sorry for her, loved her hopelessly, would do anything for her. When she left the house I took her to the train; I went in to New York with her. It worked; at least, it convinced Conrad that he had reason to be grateful to me. He could honestly tell Craig that Drue had gone away with me; and he did. That was all he wanted. Drue got in a taxi at the Grand Central station and I never saw her again till she came here. But I was of service to Conrad, and he knew it. I’ll be of service to you, too, if you pay me.”

There was all at once a small note of fear in Alexia’s voice that hadn’t been there before. “What are you going to do, Nicky?”

“I’m not going to do anything unless I have to.”

“So it is blackmail. Why don’t you try Craig? He’s got as much money as I have.”

“I already have,” said Nicky almost naively. “I thought (since we’re being frank) that I could invent a bit of evidence against Drue in the matter of Conrad’s murder. His murder, Alexia; people hang for murder…”

“ Nicky-” she said in a sharp whisper. Nicky went on cheerily, “I knew Drue had been with Conrad the night he was killed; I’d heard part of the row they had. I decided I could make what I’d heard sound pretty bad to the police…”

“That’s why you were so mysterious about not swearing to evidence against her?”

“Well, naturally. I didn’t know yet exactly what I intended to swear to. She doesn’t have any money. But I thought if Craig was still in love with her he’d pay to keep me still.”

“And is he?”

“No,” said Nicky ruefully. “He didn’t turn a hair. Even when I hinted that I was ready now to make an honest woman of her.”

Unexpectedly, Alexia laughed; there was the strangest note of pleasure and pride and, mainly, understanding. Nicky laughed, too, so for a moment they seemed to be congratulating each other’s cleverness, complacently, understanding each other.

Then the little musical, wicked laughter stopped. I could imagine them, wary again, mutually on guard, watching each other like two reflections of the same face. Nicky said, “So, my dear. I’ve got to feather my own nest, you know. As soon as I knew Conrad was dead and that source of supply was shut off I realized I had to…”

“To find out who killed him, and bleed him for the rest of his life,” broke in Alexia in sudden, low vehemence.

“Oh, now, dear! Only to turn an honest penny for myself. By bleeding her. You, darling.”

“Nicky, you wouldn’t dare! Your own sister.”

Nicky laughed a little, but this time Alexia didn’t join him. He said, “Don’t be difficult. You oblige me to put the screws on, so to speak.” His soft voice had an ugly undertone. “First, Conrad’s own medicine, all of it, a fatal quantity was put into the brandy. Digitalis is soluble in alcohol.”

“How much you know, Nicky!” There was a jeering note in her voice. “Too much, if you ask me. Be careful I don’t set the police on you.”

“Then later, after a vase, dear, had been pulled down a stairway and broken…”

Alexia interjected jeeringly again. “You really do know too much, Nicky. Did you murder him?”

“… the brandy was changed. Poisoned brandy poured out, good brandy poured in. I figured it all out. What did you do with the medicine box? Burn it?”

Alexia was still perfectly possessed and unafraid. “It may have been planted,” she said coolly. “To turn suspicion one way or another. I’m sure I wouldn’t know about that, however.”

“Planted?” said Nicky. “Where? Craig?”

“Perhaps,” said Alexia with a little laugh.

Nicky said, “It was you, of course, in the meadow, when Chivery was killed.”

“Beevens says it was you,” she said, still sure of herself “Of course, we do resemble each other.”

The ugly undertone in Nicky’s voice was more marked “Listen, Alexia, you can’t get away with that. You had time to get back to the house and put on that long green dress over the clothes you were wearing. My clothes! And don’t tell the police I killed either of them! That would be very foolish. I know too much about you.”

“I didn’t kill Conrad,” said Alexia rather slowly.

Nicky gave a soft little laugh but said nothing. Alexia said, after a moment, “I had no motive.”

“Oh, dear me, no,” said Nicky. “Rich and attractive widow marries…”

“Nicky, you killed him. You had just as much motive as I had. Money.”

“It won’t go, Alexia. I tell you that I know things.”

“But I didn’t…”

“What of the Frederic Miller checks?”

There was another silence. Then Alexia said in a kind of stifled way, “All right. But if you say a word…”

“You took them out of his desk yourself, didn’t you? So you’ve been in on the thing from the beginning.”

“Nicky, is this a guess or do you know…?”

“I know enough,” said Nicky. “Part of it is guess work but extremely effective guess work. I think I know the whole story.”

“You don’t,” said Alexia. “You can’t possibly. But if you’ll keep still…”

“I knew you’d see the light.”

“You little selfish beast,” said Alexia suddenly and low. “All you’ve ever wanted is money. Money from anyone you think you can blackmail.”

“Blackmail,” said Nicky. “It was blackmail, wasn’t it?

Never mind. It’s an agreement. It’s a good thing for you that you believe me and are a sensible girl…”

“ Will you go ?” demanded Alexia in a voice that trembled with anger.

“Right,” said Nicky.

There was another silence, then the sound of the front door opening and closing and somebody crossed the porch on tiptoe, softly. I looked out the window, but there was only the hedge and the white picket fence, growing dimmer in the dusk.

So Nicky knew, or effectively pretended to know the “whole story.” Whatever it was, it was so damning that Alexia would promise anything to silence him.

But if Maud had murdered Conrad, and Claud Chivery, why was Alexia willing to bargain with Nicky? And did Nicky really know as much as he pretended to know?

After a long time of utter silence in the cottage, I moved, stiffly, very cautiously, so I could see through the little crack between curtain and window casing.

Then I wished I hadn’t looked. For Nicky stood in the doorway; he was looking slowly around the study, and he held the long carving knife in one hand.

Only it wasn’t Nicky.

I looked closer, scrutinizing. It was Alexia in Nicky’s clothes-Nicky’s checked jacket, Nicky’s brown slacks, Nicky’s maroon scarf. It must be Alexia; Nicky had gone. All at once I understood many things. Mainly, Nugent's suggestion was right: Alexia could and obviously had worn Nicky’s clothes whenever it was convenient to do so.