Patricia Wentworth - She Came Back

“To how many people will she have told this story?”

“She hadn’t told it to anyone-yesterday.”

“How do you know?”

“She said she hadn’t.” Her shoulders moved in the slightest possible shrug. “Actually she’s one of those people who tell the truth. I don’t think she could get away with a lie even if she tried to, and I don’t think she would try.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I reeled off my alibi to prove that I couldn’t have anything to do with Nellie Collins’ unfortunate accident. I said the whole thing was nonsense-she’d mistaken someone else for me. And I pitched it hot and strong about the unpleasant publicity we had already had, and just how damaging it would be for Philip if she started any gossip about Nellie Collins. She promised she wouldn’t say a word, and I really don’t think she will.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s in love with Philip.”

He took his hand off the table.

“Is he in love with her?”

“I believe so.”

“And you say that she is safe-that she will not talk?”

“She won’t do anything to hurt Philip.”

He leaned forward.

“Are you as stupid as you sound? If she tells no one else she will tell him.”

She laughed.

“Oh, no, she won’t! They don’t see each other, for one thing, except in the bosom of the family. It was all pour le bon motif, you know. Philip was on the point of proposing to her-hence his joy at my return. They suffer in silence and hope that no one notices. Also, Lyndall was one of my bridesmaids and very devoted. It is surprising, but I believe she was the only person who was genuinely glad to see me. She ran right across the room and flung her arms round my neck. At the moment, she thought about me, not Philip. Which I consider a triumph-don’t you?”

He said abruptly, “How old is she?”

“Twenty, or twenty-one-younger than that in herself.”

There was a silence. He rested his head upon his hands as if he were thinking. When he did not speak, she said,

“I think it’s safe so far. She won’t tell Philip because she used to be fond of me. And she won’t tell anyone else because she is fond of Philip. But it’s gone far enough-I won’t come here any more.”

He said, “No, it would not be safe. There must be another arrangement. You will have your instructions.”

“I said it had gone far enough. It’s too dangerous. I won’t go on with it.”

“You won’t?” The voice was the same monotone, only just above the level of a whisper, but it sent a shiver over her.

On the other side of the beam he had looked up. For a moment the lenses which screened his eyes threw back a faint menacing gleam.

She said, “It’s too dangerous.”

“That is not your business! You are to obey your orders, not to think whether they bring you into danger! In any army in the world the man who thinks like that will find himself before a firing-squad.”

She controlled herself to say, “This is England.”

The faintly foreign intonation was accentuated in his answer.

“And you think that makes a difference?”

She didn’t answer that. When the silence had lasted just long enough he said, very softly indeed.

“It did not make so much difference to Nellie Collins-did it?”

No one would have known that she was frightened. For a moment she felt quite sick with fright, but it didn’t show. She had had a lot of practice in not letting her feelings show. Years of practice-years of making herself agreeable when she was tired, when she was angry, when with all her heart she hated her necessity. The bitter apprenticeship served her now. She could say without a tremor,

“Are you threatening me?” Then, with the slightest of laughs, “There is really no need. And-it would be stupid too.”

“You are confident that I should not be stupid? Thank you, Lady Jocelyn! But you would be wiser not to say such things again. They are liable to be misunderstood, and misunderstandings are always dangerous. I am willing to believe that you mean nothing when you say that you cannot go on-”

She interrupted him, putting her hand up and leaning forward.

“Wait-I want you to listen. You did misunderstand what I said. I would like you to listen while I explain. I told you I couldn’t go on because it was too dangerous. I didn’t mean that I was afraid-I meant there’s no chance of success. I don’t know what Philip brings home, but he keeps his case locked and his keys on a chain in his pocket. If he found me meddling with his papers, it would be all up. Don’t you see, I’m on my probation. In a way he believes in me because I told him things that convinced him, but underneath he holds back-he doesn’t really believe. If I gave him the slightest reason, he would break with me. I want to play for safety- let him get used to me, make him comfortable, make him need me, give him time to get over his fancy for Lyndall. After all, I’m what he fell in love with once, and why shouldn’t he do it again? And then-I’d be some use to you. If a man’s in love, there isn’t much you can’t get out of him.”

She was aware of scrutiny, deep and prolonged. At last he said,

“Six months’ delay, shall we say?”

“Yes-yes!”

“Six months whilst you dig yourself in-whilst you make Philip Jocelyn so comfortable that he falls in love with you?”

“Yes!”

“And during this six months everything stands still and waits for you?” He made a gesture with that clumsy gloved hand, moving it from left to right upon the table as if rubbing something out, and said “Quatsch!”

The single vulgar German word was like a blow in the face. It has perhaps no equal in its gross finality. What he said was rubbish, but no other language has so rude a term for it. She knew then that she had made her throw and lost, but instead of being frightened she began to be angry. He had better not threaten her. There were things that she could do if she was put to it.

He was watching her across the table. He said,

“Let us talk sense. You will do what you are told, and you will go on doing it. The first thing you will do is this.” He pushed a little packet over to her. “You will take an impression of that key. You will be careful not to leave any of the wax sticking in the wards like the clumsy criminal of a detective story. You will do that tonight.”

“I can’t-he has the key on him.”

“He sleeps, doesn’t he? There are some tablets in that packet, as well as the wax. If you put two of them in his coffee, he will sleep very well tonight. Whilst you have the key you will open the case and photograph the papers. You have the camera. You need not be afraid-he won’t wake. Next morning you will go out shopping as soon as Jocelyn has left the flat. Half-way down the stairs you will meet a man coming up. Just before he reaches you he will stumble, missing the step and coming down on his knees. You will move to help him, and he will thank you and say, ‘It’s nothing. I’ve been hurt twice as much as that in the old 78th.’ Then you will drop your parcel with the films and the impressions and he will pick it up. You will go on and do your shopping.”

Her anger had passed into determination. He was asking her to throw everything away. Because it wouldn’t come off- she had a clear conviction that it wouldn’t come off. She said so.

“I can’t do it. It would just be throwing everything away. You don’t know Philip-I do. Under that manner he’s on a hair trigger. You can’t cover up from him. He sees things, and what he doesn’t see he feels. It isn’t enough to be careful of how you look and what you say-I have to be careful what I think. I can tell you it’s not easy when we’re there alone. If I were to go back and have all this on my mind, he’d know.”