Patricia Wentworth - She Came Back

The tinted glasses caught the light again-just a gleam. He said,

“I wonder if you convince me. I begin to wonder too why you know so much about Philip Jocelyn. And I wonder-yes, I wonder very much whether you have been foolish enough to fall in love with him.”

“Of course not!”

As soon as the words were out she knew that she had spoken too quickly. She heard her own voice, and the tone of it was wrong. It wouldn’t convince him-it wouldn’t convince anyone.

He said, “So that is it? But you will go through with it all the same.”

“No, it isn’t that. You’re wrong. I’m telling you the truth. It won’t do you any good if I try, and fail. If he finds me out, there will be no second chance-you know that. What good is it going to do you?”

“Why should he find you out? What have you been doing- saying? What are you keeping back? If he is suspicious, what has given him these suspicions? Answer me at once!”

She was sitting up straight now, her head a little drawn back as if to put a distance between them. He had taken her by surprise. Her thoughts ran all ways at once. “Why did I say that?… I didn’t say anything… What did I say?… If he thinks that Philip suspects, he won’t risk it-he’ll let me alone… I don’t know-perhaps he won’t-perhaps-I can’t think-”

The voice which was just above a whisper came again, bleak as a crawling wind.

“He suspects you?”

Out of the turmoil of her thoughts she said,

“I don’t know.”

“Quite useless to lie to me. Something has made him suspect you.”

“I don’t know-”

The words seemed to come of themselves. She could find no others.

“I said it was useless to lie. Something has happened. You will tell me what it is!”

She thought, “If I let him beat me down now, it’s all up.”

It was a thought, not words-an instinct which dragged courage from some deep place and put a smile on her lips and a different tone in her voice.

“Please-please-you know, you are frightening me! But you are right-there has been something, and I don’t quite know. That is why I don’t want to do anything just now.”

“What has happened?”

She had herself in hand again. She went on easily.

“Nothing really-one of those little things, but-well, you can judge for yourself. A girl came in to see me last night-one of my bridesmaids-the world’s fool. She began talking about the diary.”

“What did she say?”

She told him.

“Said I put everything down in it-even the sort of things nobody would-like Pepys.” She laughed again. “She explained she didn’t mean anything against my moral character-giggled and asked Philip if I showed him what I wrote!”

“And he?”

“He looked at me-” Her voice went thin on the words.

“How?”

“I don’t know-”

“He looked as if he suspected you?”

Anger came up in her again.

“I tell you I don’t know! If you go on asking me for ever, still I don’t know! But I say this is not a good time to make any move. That girl did something. I don’t know just what she did, but I could feel that she had done something to Philip’s mind. I can feel it focussed on me again like it was at the beginning. There-you wanted the truth, and you’ve got it! Is this the time to start anything? I leave it to you.”

He said, “No-perhaps not. Why did you not tell me this at first? You wait until I drag it out of you. You say it is one of those little things-” he repeated the words-“one of those little things. You really think that, I suppose? You expect me to believe that to you it is a little thing? You hold it back for as long as you can, and then you only say it because you think it will turn me from what I have told you to do. And now I will tell you why you are using everything you have got to turn me. You find yourself very comfortable as Lady Jocelyn-you have a position, you have a great deal of money, and you have a husband who is a very rising young man. You have, in fact, got all you want. You have, in fact, no further incentive-you would like to sit back and enjoy these things. I would ask you to remember that you have not finished earning them. Those who provided you with these good things can also take them away. There is no more to be said. Now you will listen to me. You will hear no more from the police. They are now convinced that Nellie Collins met, as you have said, with an unfortunate accident. A woman who lives at Ruislip has come forward to say that she has known her for years, and that she has often invited her to come and see her. This is very satisfactory, as you will agree. The police will now be satisfied that anything Nellie Collins may have said in the train was just the result of a desire to be in the limelight, and that she was really going to see this friend of hers at Ruislip.”

She looked at him, and saw no more than a dark bulky shape, a shock of hair, the just discernible gleam from the tinted glasses. Her voice slowed down as she said,

“Do you think so?” And then, “You arranged it, I suppose.”

He said, as he had said before,

“That is not your business. Here are your orders. You will take the impression of the key as I told you. But you will not risk taking photographs unless you find the code. That must be copied or photographed-but if he has any suspicions, you will not find it. Where have you put the diary?”

“It’s safely hidden.”

“You had better put it in your bank.”

“No-I must have it.”

He did not press the point. Instead he said curtly,

“You have your orders. See you carry them out!”

There was a pause before she said,

“I can’t do it.”

She came out of the heated shop into cold, bright air. The dropping sun looked between two black clouds and washed the whole length of the street with gold. As she walked quickly away, it seemed to her that the path before her was all lit up. Her spirits were strangely high. She had held her own, and now that it was done it seemed an easy thing to do. She wondered that she had been so much afraid-that she had submitted to so much. After all, what could he do? To expose her would be to expose himself. Threats were a game that two could play. She had let him see that, and he had been quick to moderate his tone. She had come away without any orders on his side or any undertaking on hers. She had fought her battle and won it She had shown them that she was not to be used just as a tool. What she did she would do in her own time and in her own way-if she did anything at all. That would depend on Philip. Why, they must think her a fool to risk throwing away all that had been gained. She wasn’t that kind of fool, or any other. When you got what you had wanted all your life you didn’t risk it, you held it close. What she could do safely she would do. If there were a very good chance tonight, she might even get Mr. Felix his wax impression, but if she did it, it would be because she chose, and not under any orders of his.

At the corner she turned. She lost the sun, but not her lighted mood. A half-formed thought emerged and took the light. Contemplating this thought, the outline of a plan began to form. Her pace slackened. She walked slowly, her attention all turned inwards. The darkening street, the cold, thin wind which slanted across it, were no longer there. She looked at the plan, and coveted it as she might have coveted a diamond necklace or a high-powered car. Like these, it was beyond her reach. But was it-was it? If she was a tool, it wouldn’t be the first time a tool had turned in the hand that used it. She began to consider very carefully whether the plan could be used. There would be some risk of course, but she stood in danger all the time. It would be worth some risk to get free and be safe. For a moment her heart sickened. Safety seemed so desperately far away.