Реймонд Маршалл - The Paw in the Bottle

The taxi rattled past the White City. For a moment or so the inside of the taxi was lit up by the battery of arc lamps that had blazed up for the last race. And in the hard, glaring light they looked at each other.

‘Try not to be bitter about it, Julie. I have lost much more than you. But then, I suppose I’m a lot older than you and I’ve learned to accept disappointments. If I had more time I would begin again, but that is impossible now. It looks as if Blanche has had the last laugh after all. It was a mistake to have killed her. You see, it hasn’t done me any good.’

Julie didn’t say anything; her mind was seething with dismay and fury. After all she had endured from him and now no money!

‘I would never have believed Benton had the nerve to do such a thing,’ Wesley went on. The swiftly passing street lamps lit up his white face. He looked tired and sad. ‘They say he’s badly burned.’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Julie exclaimed, beating her fists together. She was beside herself with disappointment. ‘That’s all you’re any good at, talking and making rotten promises.’ She swung round to face him. ‘And how do I know you’ll give me the furs after all this? How do I know you won’t cheat me again?’

‘Go to my bank in the morning. They’ll have a letter for you. There’s a statement, too, for the police. I’ve put everything in order.’

‘You go. Why should I run errands for you? It’s going to be different now. I’m not going to be ordered about any more.’

‘Poor Julie,’ he said wearily. ‘I’m very sorry for you.’

The taxi began to slow down as the traffic thickened. In the distance they could see a vast red glow in the sky.

‘There it is,’ he went on quietly. ‘I said it would be an awe-inspiring sight, didn’t I?’

She noticed his hands were trembling but she felt no pity for him. At least she would have the furs. She would keep the Arctic fox and sell the others. With the money she raised on the furs and the jewellery and with the money Harry must have put by they should be all right.

As the taxi neared the factory they could see the flames and the spirals of oily, black smoke outlined against the red sky. Lines of cars were parked on either side of the road, and a big crowd was moving towards the fire. The night was full of sounds: excited voices, laughter, the shuffling of feet. Some-where in the crowd a dog was barking; a sharp sound that blended with the dry crackling of burning timber.

A policeman stopped the taxi.

‘You can’t get through,’ he said, with patient good humour. ‘The hoses are across the road.’

‘We’ll walk,’ Wesley said, and got out of the car. ‘Will you wait?’ he went on to the driver. ‘The young lady will be coming back.’

Julie followed him along the grass verge and they quickly caught up with the slow-moving crowd. Wesley caught hold of her arm and began to weave his way through the crowd, pulling her up with him. A man jostled him and knocked off his dark glasses. Julie, coming up behind, trod on them. She felt the lenses crunch under her foot. It gave her an odd physical satisfaction. He was finished, she thought. The breaking of the glasses seemed to her to be the final milestone of their association.

‘They’ve broken,’ she said to him.

‘What does it matter? Don’t you see, Julie, for me nothing matters now.’

They reached the gates of the factory. Now they could hear the hiss of water striking red-hot metal. The roar of the flames sounded near, and the air was hot and dry. Wesley spoke to one of the policemen guarding the gate. He showed him a card and the policeman let him through.

Gerridge came running out of the smoke towards them. There was a long streak of oily soot across his face and a shocked, scared look in his eyes.

‘Is it bad?’ Wesley asked, gripping his arm.

Gerridge gulped. For a moment he couldn’t say anything. He clung on to Wesley’s arm while he tried to get his breath.

‘There’s nothing left,’ he burst out. ‘It’s awful. The place is a roaring furnace. They can’t save it.’

‘And Benton?’ Wesley spoke quietly.

‘He’s badly burned, but he’s alive.’ Gerridge was staring at Wesley. ‘Your eyes, sir. Are they all right? They look all right. Can you see?’

‘Yes, I can see. Take me to Benton.’

‘That’s marvellous.’ Gerridge seemed bewildered. ‘But when did it happen? Was it the operation...?’

‘Take me to Benton,’ Wesley said curtly.

Gerridge stiffened.

‘He’s in there, sir.’ He pointed to a small building near the main block of offices. ‘I must get back. We’re shifting our files in case the fire spreads.’

‘All right. You get off.’ Wesley turned to Julie. ‘Come with me.’

They had to step over long lines of hose and through big oily puddles of water that swamped the concrete before they reached the building. They found Benton lying on the floor, his head pillowed on an overcoat, a blanket thrown over him. A policeman was sitting on an office chair near him and he stood up when Wesley came in.

‘I’m Howard Wesley. May I speak to him?’

‘Yes, sir. He’s bad. Got burned about the legs. They’re moving him as soon as the ambulance arrives.’

Julie hung back as Wesley went over to the still figure.

‘Hello, Hugh,’ Wesley said, and knelt down on one knee.

Benton opened his pale eyes.

‘Who’s that?’ he asked feebly. ‘Wesley?’

‘Yes. Are you badly hurt?’

Benton frowned. His big, white teeth bit down on his lip. It was some moments before he spoke, then the words came out in a desperate little torrent of pain.

‘I wish I hadn’t done it. I wanted to get even with you, but as soon as the flames started I knew it was wrong. All that work. I tried to put it out but the flames got me in the end. I thought I was finished.’ He closed his eyes, added, ‘I wish I was.’

‘You’ll be all right. We all do things we shouldn’t do. Regretting them is the worst part. I regret things, too. I know how you feel. We’re so sure of ourselves when we’re doing wrong, and it’s only afterwards we see how stupid we have been.’

‘Yes; that’s right. I’m sorry, Wesley. I really am sorry.’

‘We had a bit of fun putting the place together, didn’t we?’ Wesley said and smiled. ‘It was as much your work as mine.’

Benton stared up at the white, tired face.

‘I didn’t expect ever to hear that from you. It’s good of you.’ A shudder ran through his thin body and he clenched his fists. ‘It feels as if my legs are still on fire.’

‘They’ll fix you up all right. The ambulance won’t be long.’

‘If it hadn’t been for Blanche we might have got on together,’ Benton said. There was sweat on his face now.

‘Yes... Blanche.’ Wesley stood up. ‘I want to take a last look at the lab. I thought I’d see you first.’

‘Something’s happened to you,’ Benton said weakly. ‘I don’t know what it is. Is it your eyes?’

‘Don’t worry about that. Don’t worry about anything. So long, Hugh.’ Wesley leaned forward and held out his hand. ‘You’ll be all right.’

Benton gripped his hand.

‘I wouldn’t have believed it. I thought you would hate me like hell. I’ve been a fool. I’m sorry. I’m damned sorry.’

‘So long,’ Wesley said quietly, and withdrew his hand. He turned to the door. ‘Julie...’

She went to him.

The police officer looked at them curiously.

‘Come with me, Julie.’

There was a great crash outside as one of the walls of the laboratory collapsed. They stood for a moment in the smoke and the heat, side by side, looking at each other.

‘Go back to the flat. The taxi is waiting,’ Wesley said. ‘See Dawson to-morrow and give him the statement. That’ll get Gleb out of trouble. Be carefull how you sell the furs. You should be all right. I hope you’ll find happiness, Julie.’