“The evidence of my own eyes. She was often in his
bedroom at night.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because several times in the early hours I hap
pened to see her, just after she’d come out of his room. She looked terribly embarrassed and tried to cover up.
And once, I remember, her own bedroom door was
left wide open and no light on. I searched for her, but
she was nowhere to be seen. She must have been in
Alexis’s room then.”
“What were
you
doing up and about in the early
hours of the morning?” demanded Brett.
Rudi was frowning. “Usually I sleep soundly. But
sometimes, when I get to remembering the past, I find
I cannot sleep.”
“Alexis was the same,” I put in swiftly. “He would often be up half the night, reading.”
Brett’s eyes turned again to Rudi. “Did you see any other signs that there was something going on between them?”
“There were a hundred things. I noticed the way
Belle used to look at him, a sort of secret excitement in
her eyes. It was unmistakable. I suppose a woman
can never conceal her emotions when she looks at the
man who is her lover.”
Brett asked sharply, “And what about the way
Alexis looked at Belle?”
Rudi lifted his shoulders. “I suppose deceit comes
more easily to a man.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” said Brett. “Anything
else?”
“Isn’t that enough? If you had seen the two of them
together day after day these past months, you’d be as convinced as I am.” Rudi hesitated, then added quick
ly, “There
was
something. I remember one morning
... Alexis had gone to London soon after breakfast. I
went up to his room for some papers he’d left there,
and I saw Belle’s silver locket—you know the one I
mean, Gail. She always wore it around her neck. It
was on the bedside table in Alexis’s bedroom. Of
course, I didn’t touch it, and later, at lunchtime, Belle’s
hand went to her throat as she suddenly realized it was missing. She made some excuse to leave the table, and when she returned she was wearing it again.”
“That’s all, is it?” said Brett. “That’s what you based
your supposition on?”
“Well, yes.”
There was a moment’s pause, then Brett said, “You realize there are two possible explanations for all this. The first that Alexis and Belle were lovers, the second
that they weren’t but that Belle wanted you to
think
they were. Every single thing you’ve mentioned could have been just an act put on by Belle for your special benefit, Rudi.”
My pulse rate quickened. I dared not snatch too
quickly at an explanation I longed to believe.
“According to what you’ve told us,” Brett went on,
“there’s nothing to suggest that Alexis was the least
bit interested in Belle in that sense. It was the way
she
used to look at
him. She
who’d apparently just come
out of
his
bedroom. I noticed that you didn’t say you
actually saw her
coming
out—you just assumed she
had, because she looked so embarrassed. And she
seems to have chosen just the moments when she knew
you were around to see.
Several
times, you said.
Doesn’t that strike you as a remarkable coincidence? And that locket incident—mark that it was on a day
when Alexis had gone to London, so Belle could easily
have planted the locket after he’d left. And possibly
taken up some papers she knew you’d be needing, to
make sure you went up there and saw it.”
I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Oh yes, Brett,
I’m sure that’s it. Everything fits.”
Rudi sat with his face in his hands, and we stood
watching him. At length he lifted his head. “You’re
quite right, Brett. There wasn’t a single occasion when Alexis
showed any sign. It was always Belle. Oh God,” he
groaned, his eyes suddenly sharpened with tragedy. “I
should have realized ... You understand what this
means? They really have murdered him.”
Brett said slowly, quietly, “It’s terrible, but I know
which way the Alexis I remember would have wished
it himself. He’d rather have lost his life any day than
be dishonored, than have all that he’s worked for over
the years discredited. No, Gail is right, I’m convinced
of it.”
I squeezed his arm in gratitude, and Brett glanced
down at me with a sad little smile.
“I can’t take any of the credit, Gail. It was you, and
it puts the rest of us to shame. You were the only one
who had faith in Alexis. You never doubted him,
however black things looked.”
This wasn’t quite as true as Brett believed. There
had come a point—after that humiliating scene with
Belle, in those frantic minutes before I discovered that
the man with her was not Alexis at all—when I faced
complete disillusionment. But perhaps, in the circum
stances, I could not really be blamed.
“Alexis and I had always been so close,” I whis
pered. “He was more like a father to me than an
uncle.”
Rudi sat with his head drooped. “I looked upon
Alexis almost as a father, too, yet I was ready to think the worst of him. I shall never forgive myself, Gail.
Never.”
He jumped to his feet and began striding about
the room, a man in torment.
My heart was wrenched in pity for him. I knew how
much he had loved my uncle. Forced to flee his native
land, separated forever from his only living relatives— his sister and her family in Karlovy Vary—Rudi had,
through Alexis, found a whole new meaning for his
life. It was terrible for him to go on believing that
some negligence on his part had allowed Alexis to be
seized and killed.
“Rudi, you don’t need to blame yourself. What could
you
have done to stop this from happening?”
Leaving Brett’s side, I went to Rudi, touching his
arm in compassion. To my surprise, he jerked himself
away.
“I don’t deserve your pity, Gail,” he said in a bitter
voice.
Brett cut in, “Let’s not talk about blame. It doesn’t
get us anywhere. Our job now is to discover the truth.
It’s one thing for us three to feel certain we know what
happened, but it will be quite a different matter to con
vince other people. What we’ve got to do is find some
real, solid evidence that Alexis was murdered. So far
it’s just guesswork. Let’s start at the beginning. Exactly
how did Belle Forsyth work herself into a job here?
Did she come from an employment agency?”
We both looked at Rudi. He made an effort to pull himself together. “Yes, we’ve got to try and be practi
cal. But I’m afraid I can’t help about Belle. I’ve no
idea where she came from. Alexis merely told me one
day that he’d found the perfect nurse-companion for
Madeleine, and I was delighted.” He gave me an
apologetic shrug. “I know it sounds odd not to have
asked Alexis for any details. But I was up to my eyes
at the time—working on the indexing of the book. As you can imagine, with so many cross-references it was
a complicated job.”
“When was it Alexis told you about Belle?” asked
Brett. “What were the circumstances? For example,
had he been up to London that day? Could he some
how have met her there?”
Rudi hesitated, but in the end he made a helpless
gesture with his hands.
“I can’t remember clearly. I think we were here in
the study, and I think ... yes, I’m pretty sure that Alexis had just read a letter. Perhaps it was from
Belle.”
“If so, presumably you had to answer it, make an appointment for her to come for an interview or some
thing?”
Rudi looked from Brett to me. I could sense his
desperate anxiety to be of some help. But in the end
he could only shake his head.
“Alexis fixed it up entirely by himself. He just told
me she was coming the following week. And of course,
when she did come, she really seemed ideal. Madeleine was immensely taken with her.”
I closed my eyes, remembering bitterly how my poor
aunt had been deceived by Belle Forsyth’s treacherous
charm. Even a few hours before Madeleine’s death, when I’d talked to her in the middle of the night, she
had been wondering when her dear Belle would be
coming back.
“Did Belle have any friends?” Brett continued. “Any
contacts at all?”
Again Rudi shook his head. “The Communists will
have covered their tracks well. Any line you try to
follow about Belle Forsyth will only end in a blank
wall.” His voice cracked. “I know them. They will go
to endless trouble to achieve their aims.”
Brett said crisply, “I can understand how you feel,
Rudi, but a defeatist attitude won’t get us anywhere.
The only way I know of winning is to keep pressing on
even when things look utterly hopeless. As Gail did
from the very beginning. As I’m going to do from now
on.”
* * * *
It was very late when at last Brett persuaded me to
go up to bed. The doctor had given me a pill to take,
so at least I knew I would be able to sleep.
We parted at the foot of the staircase before Brett went through to the other wing of the house. He held
me to him briefly, kissing my forehead. Then he let
me go.
“Gail, I’ve come to a decision. I’m going to go
ahead with the film about Alexis. I’m going to finish it.
Some day—very soon, I hope—it will be needed. I
want it to make a fitting memorial to Alexis Karel.”
I heard the cheerful whistle of the newspaper boy as
I came downstairs the next morning. His bicycle
slithered to a racing stop on the gravel. The folded
copy of the
Times
appeared through the letterbox and
fell to the floor with a thud.
For a few moments I stood staring at it, as if it was
something contaminated. Then I bent and picked it
up, scanning through it quickly.
Madeleine’s death was reported with brief details.
The paragraph went on to say that Dr. Alexis Karel
had not been seen or heard of since having a short
interview with his niece, Miss Gail Fleming, at a hotel
in Geneva a few days before. That was all.
I left the paper on the console table in the hall and
went to the kitchen to get myself some coffee. A big
cupful, hot and milky, slowly brought me back to life. I even found the appetite to eat a buttered crispbread.
To my relief, Mrs. Cramp hadn’t turned up yet.
I heard Brett calling my name and went out to the
hall to meet him. He smiled at me, his eyes searching
my face.
“You look tired, darling. Did you sleep?”
“A bit too heavily. I’m not used to taking pills.”
“Let’s hope you never will be. Have you seen the
Times
yet?”
“Yes, just now. It doesn’t say much.”
“I know, but some of the popular papers have really
gone to town—as you’d expect. Look, Gail, I can’t
stop. I just came through to tell you that I’m off to London.”
“To London?”
“Yes, I must go today. You see, things have rather
piled up while we were away.”
I felt a sudden chill. I’d completely overlooked the
fact that Brett had a job to do. Foolishly, I had pic
tured him being here with me at Deer’s Leap, working together to find the answer to Alexis’s disappearance.
I said dispiritedly, “When will I see you again?”
“Oh, sometime later today. I want to restart work
on the film right away.”
I felt better at once. Brett wasn’t forsaking me.
“Caterina asked me to say she hopes you’ll join
them for lunch, Gail. You will, won’t you?”
“Yes, of course. It’s kind of her to ask me
...
in the
circumstances.”
“Gail, you mustn’t think that. My father is very up
set—naturally. But not with
you.”
“All the same, I’m part of it all. A continual re
minder.”