1951 - In a Vain Shadow (24 page)

I began to move slowly towards her. She waited for me; the knife held a little in front of her; her green eyes glittering dangerously.

I started suddenly to the right and as she stabbed at me, I swerved and caught her wrist. I twisted her arm, spinning her round and drove my knee into her back. The knife fell to the floor and I kicked it away. She doubled up, pulling me forward, but I was ready for that. I fell flat on top of her, still keeping my grip on her wrist, and we both sprawled on the floor.

She kicked and struggled, but I pinned her. It was like holding down a writhing snake. I released her wrist and turned her so she was on her back, and before she could grab me I forced her arms flat and knelt on them.

She must have realized she had left it too late. I saw fear jump into her eyes and she opened her mouth to scream. I shifted my hands to her throat and nipped the cry back.

I grinned at her.

‘You won’t be lonely down there, Rita. There’s the frog and your husband. You’ll be in good company.’

Her face was blue and her tongue showed between her teeth. She wasn’t pretty anymore; I dug my fingers into her throat; my thumbs jammed into her windpipe.

There came a sudden thudding sound of footsteps on the stairs and the door burst open.

I threw myself off her towards the gun, but a foot stamped down hard on my wrist.

The cold little room was suddenly full of policemen.

We sat side by side on the settee. Two policemen stood quietly behind. A plain-clothes officer stood before the fire.

Emmie cried by the window, her fat, spotty face sodden with tears.

Neither of us had spoken a word. We were waiting for them to get him out of the well. There could be no charge against us until they had got him up. So we waited.

Minutes dragged by. No one spoke. Only the busy ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the crackling of the fire disturbed the silence.

On the table lay the dagger, and beside it were eight of the finest diamonds I had ever seen. I had killed a man for them; staked my life on them, and now I hadn’t given them a second glance.

Emmie’s quiet sobbing worried me. She had begun to cry after she had identified the coat, and she just kept on crying.

More minutes dragged by. I heard someone shouting in the garden. The plain-clothes officer moved uneasily. There was a long, heavy silence, and then the door opened quietly and a police constable came in. He looked sick and white.

‘Could you come a moment, sit?’

The plain-clothes officer followed him out of the room.

I knew then the wait was nearly over.

THE END