Десмонд Бэгли - Landslide

I said, ‘Rifled slugs.’

His voice was even colder. ‘You have my permission to put one through her if she takes another step. Hear that, Lucy? I should have done it myself twelve years ago.’

I said, ‘I found her in your study going through the desk. I think she was looking for your will.’

‘It figures,’ said the old man sardonically. ‘I sired a brood of devils.’ He raised his hand. ‘Young woman, plug that telephone in this socket here.’

The nurse started at being addressed directly. All that had been going on was too much for her. I said, ‘Do it — and do it fast.’ She brought over the telephone and plugged it in by the bedside. As she passed on her way back I asked, ‘Have you anything to write with?’

‘A pen? Yes, I’ve got one.’

‘You’d better take notes of what’s said here. You might have to repeat it in court.’

Matterson fumbled with the telephone and gave up. He said, ‘Get Gibbons at the police-station.’ He gave me the number and I dialled it, then held the handset to his head. There was a pause before he said, ‘Gibbons, this is Matterson... my health is none of your damn’ concern. Now, listen: get up to my place fast... there’s been a killing.’ His head fell back on to the pillow and I replaced the handset.

I kept the shotgun centred on Lucy’s middle. She was white and unnaturally calm, standing there with her arms straight down by her sides. A tic convulsed her right cheek every few seconds. Presently Matterson began to talk in a very low voice and I motioned the nurse nearer so that she could hear what he said. She had a pen and a notebook and scribbled in longhand, but Bull wasn’t speaking very fast so she had time to get it all down.

‘Howard was envious of Frank,’ said the old man softly. ‘Young Frank was a good boy and he had everything — brains, strength, popularity — everything Howard lacked. He got good grades in college while Howard ploughed his tests; he got the girls who wouldn’t look at Howard, and he looked like being the guy who was going to run the business when old John and I were out of the running, while Howard knew he wouldn’t get a look-in. It wasn’t that John Trinavant would favour his son against Howard — it was a case of the best man getting the job. And Howard knew that if I got down to making a decision I’d choose Frank Trinavant, too.’

He sighed. ‘So Howard killed Frank — and not only Frank. He killed John and his wife, too. He was only twenty-one and he was a triple killer.’ He gestured vaguely. ‘I don’t think it was his idea, I think it was hers. Howard wouldn’t have the guts to do a thing like that by himself. I reckon Lucy pushed him into it.’ He turned his head and looked at her. ‘Howard was a bit like me — not much, but a bit. She took after her mother.’ He turned back to me. ‘Did you know my wife committed suicide in a lunatic asylum?’

I shook my head, feeling very sorry for him. He was speaking of his son and daughter in the past tense as though they were already dead.

‘Yes,’ he said heavily. ‘I think Lucy is mad — as crazy mad as her mother was towards the end. She saw that Howard had a problem and she solved it for him in her way — the mad way. Young Frank was an obstacle to Howard, so what could be simpler than to get rid of him? The fact that old John and his wife were killed was an incidental occurrence. John wasn’t the target — Frank was!’

I felt a chill in that big, warm, centrally-heated room — the chill of horror as I looked across at Lucy Atherton who was standing with a blank look on her face as though the matter under discussion did not concern her a whit. It must have been also ‘a minor happening of no great consequence’ that a hitch-hiker called Grant was also in the car.

Matterson sighed. ‘So Lucy talked Howard into it, and that wouldn’t be too difficult, I guess. He was always weak and rotten even as a boy. They borrowed my Buick and trailed the Trinavants on the Edmonton road, and ran them off that cliff deliberately and in cold blood. I daresay they took advantage of the fact that John knew the car and knew them.’

My lips were stiff as I asked, ‘Who was driving the car?’

‘I don’t know. Neither of them would ever say. The Buick got knocked around a bit and they couldn’t hide that from me. I put two and two together and got Howard cornered and forced it out of him. He crumpled like a wet paper bag.’

He was quiet for a long time, then he said, ‘What was I to do? These were my children!’ In his voice was a plea for understanding. ‘Can a man turn in his own children for murder? So I became their accomplice.’ There was now a deep self-contempt in his voice. ‘I covered up for them, God help me. I built a wall around them with my money.’

I said gently, ‘Was it you who sent the money to the hospital to help Grant?’

‘I was pulled two ways — torn down the middle,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want another death on my conscience. Yes, I sent the money — it was the least I could do. And I wanted to keep track of you. I knew you’d lost your memory and I was scared to death you’d get it back. I had a private investigator checking up on you but he lost you somehow. Must have been about the time you changed your name.’ His hands groped blindly on the coverlet as he looked into the black past. ‘And I was scared you’d start back-tracking in an attempt to find yourself. I had to do something about that and I did what I could. I had to get rid of the name of Trinavant — it’s an odd name and sticks in a man’s memory. John and his family were the only Trinavants left in Canada — barring Clare — and I knew if you bumped up against that name you’d get curious, so I tried to wipe it out. What put you on to it?’

‘Trinavant Park,’ I said.

‘Ah, yes,’ he chuckled. ‘I wanted to change that but I couldn’t get it past that old bitch, Davenant. She’s about the only person in Fort Farrell I couldn’t scare hell out of. Independent income,’ he explained.

‘Anyway, I went on building the company. God knows what for, but it seemed pretty important at the time. I felt lost without John — he was always the brains of the outfit — but then I got hold of Donner and we got going pretty good after that.’

There was no regret for the way he had done it. He was still a tough, ruthless sonofabitch — but an honest sonofabitch by his lights, dim though they were. I heard a sound outside — the sound of a fast-driven car braking hard on the gravel. I looked at the nurse. ‘Have you got all that?’

She looked up with misery in her face. ‘Yes,’ she said flatly. ‘And I wish I hadn’t.’

‘So do I, child,’ said Matterson. ‘I should have killed the pair of them with my own hands twelve years ago.’ His hand came out and plucked at my sleeve. ‘You must stop Howard. I know him — he’ll go on killing until he’s destroyed. He loses his head easily and makes terrible mistakes. He’ll kill and kill, thinking he’s finding a way out and not knowing he’s getting in deeper.’

I said, ‘I think we can leave that to Gibbons — he’s the professional.’ I nodded to the nurse as a faint knocking sound echoed through the house. ‘You’d better let him in. I can’t leave here with her around.’

I still kept a close watch on Lucy whose face continued to twitch spasmodically. When the nurse had gone I said, ‘All right, Lucy: where are they? Where are Clare Trinavant and McDougall?’

A chill had settled on me. I was afraid for them, afraid this crazy woman had killed them. Matterson said bleakly, ‘Good Christ! Is there more?’

I ignored him. ‘Lucy, where are they?’ I could have no pity for her and had no compunction in using any method to get the information from her. I pulled out the hunting knife. ‘If you don’t tell me, Lucy, I’ll carve you up just like I’d carve up a deer — with the difference that you’ll feel every cut.’