Isaac Asimov: Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Vol. 59, No. 1. Whole No. 338, January 1972

Miss Pellat shook her head. She shook it so emphatically her long jade earrings tinkled.

“I wouldn’t dream of moving,” she said. “It’s a dear little house. Full of memories of the happy times my dear brother had here. He was happy, you know.”

“I daresay he was,” said Mr. Snuggs morosely.

“He kept his health to the last. When providence delivered that final stroke I could not help thinking that it was a perfect ending. Provided—” and on the word Miss Pellat leaned forward so sharply that her earrings tinkled again — “provided that it killed him.”

“Well, it did,” said Mr. Snuggs.

“That’s not true. It was the night in the open that killed him. If I had summoned help and had him carried back to the house — taken to a hospital or nursing home — and injected with drugs, no doubt he could have been saved. And saved for what? A pitiful, half-paralyzed old age. Like a mouse, caught by its back legs in a trap. I knew my brother too well to think he’d have wanted that.”

Mr. Snuggs had got his breath back by now. He said, “Do you mean to say you were with him when it happened and you just left him there to die?”

“Death by exposure is quick and not too uncomfortable. If you read the diaries of the great Polar explorers you will find that it comes with a feeling of warmth and relaxation.”

Mr. Snuggs stared at her, horrified. “But,” he said, “you’re his sister! How could you do it? Walk off like that and leave him!”

“I didn’t walk straight off,” said Miss Pellat, and her voice sounded a clear warning.

“You didn’t, eh?”

“Because, when I’d only got as far as the edge of the wood, I heard a car coming. Your car, Mr. Snuggs.”

Mr. Snuggs stared at her, hypnotized.

“And I saw you get out and walk over and look at my brother. And I saw you walk away again.”

There was a long, long silence. At last Mr. Snuggs said, in a croaking voice, “I deny it.”

“Of course you do. And everything I told you is entirely — what do the lawyers say? — without prejudice. Such a curious expression. No, no, I am sure we can keep each other’s little secret, Mr. Snuggs.”

As he rose heavily to his feet she added, “By the way, I fear I shall have to ask you to do something about the bath. I really need a new one. And while you’re at it you might let me have a new sink as well—”