Джон Пристли - Salt is Leaving

Salt paused as if he thought the other man might like to make some comment. Maggie thought she heard Jill draw a deep breath, but it was difficult to tell because she was breathing hard herself.

"You see," Salt continued, "there were two bits of evidence up in that attic room that you overlooked. I have them – at least I had them. But now they"re in a little packet I sent to a colleague of mine, together with an account of what I think happened that night. He's not in Birkden, by the way, so you can't get at him. And if he doesn't hear from me during the next twenty-four hours, I've asked him to open the packet, read what I've written inside and then get in touch with Scotland Yard."

Sir Arnold was obviously under some strain now. "I don't know what you"re talking about," was all he could manage.

"I'm talking about the possible effect on eyesight of a state of hypertension. Take another example. I'm sure you tried to be very careful matching that wallpaper exactly. Yet I saw at once that it didn't match."

"That's a lie. It matched exactly." And then Sir Arnold realized what this outburst had cost him. For the first time he looked round – rather wildly, like a trapped creature – at Maggie and the other two.

"Now you've really torn it, haven't you?" said Jill.

"So there you are in that room, covering the cavity in the wall where the body was hidden." Salt didn't sound triumphant; rather sad, if anything. "And don't tell me now you were doing it for your son. I'd be too ashamed to listen."

"Don't imagine you"re making any sense, Dr Salt. And if you've anything worth hearing to tell me-"

"Oh – drop it, man!" Salt was impatient now. "Your son never killed that girl. He was in love with her. I've read his letters to her. And don't forget I've also seen the body. Your son loved it – and her. And he was your son – and he's dead. Do we have to pretend now he was a homicidal sexual maniac – to keep you safe? I tell you I'd be too ashamed to listen." And Salt pointed an accusing finger at him.

Sir Arnold shook himself, then glanced at Alan.

"If you"re appealing to me," said Alan, "then don"t. I believe you killed her. You might as well admit it."

"Very well." He looked at Salt. "I killed her." There was no more shaking. He was a stone man now. And Maggie, though she didn't want to, suddenly found herself feeling sorry for him.

"So you killed her, did you?" said Salt very softly. "Why?"

"I'll sit down, if you don't mind," said Sir Arnold, staring about him in a curiously vague way. Salt, who was still standing, offered him an armchair. Sir Arnold sank into it, closed his eyes for a moment or two, then looked round at them all, and, after making an obvious effort, took them all into his confidence.

"I'd heard rumours of this affair," he began. "I'd heard too that they were using the old Worsley place. So I went there that night – and found them. I was deeply shocked, then very angry. I ordered Derek to get dressed and clear out, and, though he didn't want to go, I made him leave me with the girl. Then I appealed to her to let him go, even offered her money to go away. She not only refused but she taunted me, saying she was going to marry him. She was an evil little slut, flaunting her sex, lying there half dressed, jeering at me. Then something snapped. I can't tell you exactly what happened because I can't remember. But then I found myself staring at the body. What happened afterwards you seem to know, though I can't imagine what possible evidence you can have found."

"And your son?"

"By the time I'd done everything I could to hide the body and remove all traces of the girl, it was very late, nearly morning. Derek had been drinking. I tried to make him believe at first that the girl had agreed to go away, but something in my manner made him suspicious, so finally I had to tell him what had happened. He rushed out of the room. Then, before I could do anything to stop him, before I knew even where he'd gone, he shot himself. And now you know the truth, all of you."

"And I believe you," said Jill.

"So do I," said Alan.

Maggie heard herself making some sort of agreeing noise. And then Salt astonished her.

"Certainly not. We"re miles from the truth yet. But let's have a drink." He was lively, cheerful, bustling. "Sir Arnold – some whisky-"

"Thank you. I need a drink."

"Maggie, give me a hand. Oh – we must have another glass. I'll get it, for Sir Arnold. You pour out for the others." He rushed into the kitchen while Maggie, still bewildered, busied herself with the bottle and the jug of water. He was back again in a flash. "Here – I'll attend to Sir Arnold. He needs a stiff one. Neat, perhaps."

Jill spoke for Maggie. "You really are the most extraordinary man, Dr Salt. You begin talking about drinks just when I think you'll call for the police."

"Police? Police?" Salt was contemptuous. "I've nothing to do with the police. Sir Arnold's the man who hobnobs with the police. I don"t. I'm a doctor, not a detective."

"Yes – but-" And Sir Arnold, looking as bewildered as Maggie felt, left it at that.

Alan was frowning. "If the police don't come into it, then what's the point of all this?"

"I'll tell you." Salt, serious now, addressed them all. "There are two points, both equally important. The first is – the discovery of the truth. In this case, what really happened to Noreen Wilks. The second point is – having discovered the truth, to decide what best can be done. It's the sort of thing a conscientious doctor has to do all day long. I've not been amusing myself playing God, as you suggested, Jill. I've simply been applying a familiar method outside my usual field. I say I've been doing it, but of course I'm still doing it. Hard at it this very minute."

"But, Salt, you"re not doing anything," Maggie objected.

"I never have done anything very much, have I? My method doesn't involve me in scurrying around and putting cigarette ends in envelopes."

"What about those bits of evidence you said you sent to a colleague?" asked Sir Arnold. Salt made no reply. The two men stared at each other in silence for several moments. "If you were bluffing, Dr Salt," Sir Arnold said finally, "then you'll never prove a thing, you know. And if you insist, I'll keep on saying I did it."

"But you did, didn't you?" said Alan.

"Of course he didn"t," Salt told him.

Then Salt finished his whisky and water, put down his glass and went closer to Sir Arnold. "Why won't you remember I'm not a policeman, prosecutor, judge and jury – I'm a healer. And what I want to do now, Donnington, is to take you off the hook that's kept you in agony ever since September 12th. Now there could be only one reason why you were willing to let the police think your son had killed that girl. Or why, when I challenged that story, you confessed to the murder yourself. You were protecting the only person left for you to protect – your daughter, Erica. She killed Noreen Wilks."

Maggie heard herself exclaiming with the other two. Sir Arnold said nothing and put his head into his hands.

"You don't have to talk about it, Donnington," Salt went on, quite calmly. "But you'll have to listen for a minute or two. It was you who hid the body, of course, after your son came home and told you what had happened. But it was Erica, insane with jealousy, who did the strangling and mutilating. She and her brother were very close. There may have been an incestuous sexual relationship, and it was probably to cover this that she pretended to be a Lesbian – yes, Jill?"

"I was only going to say she did seem to parade it too much-"

"And it was all talk," Salt continued. "Late last night she was up in a man's room at the Beverly - Astoria -"

"Oh – 806," cried Maggie, before she could stop herself.