Brett, at this moment, was on his way to London.
When we returned from the lake, Brett had sent
Jenny to fetch his father from the dining room. Sir
Ralph came at once, his table napkin still in his hand.
“We’d better go to the library,” he said. “Gail, are
you here too?”
“Yes, Sir Ralph.”
Long familiar with every room at Deer’s Leap, he
walked with unhesitating steps across to the fireplace,
where a bright coal fire burned. He turned and faced
us.
“Jenny said it was something very important.”
Brett told his father everything, as briefly as such a story could be told. I had to admire Sir Ralph’s self-
control. His blind face registered his emotions—astonishment, horror, grief—but he allowed Brett to finish
without interruption. I pitied him. Years seemed to
have been added to his age in the space of a few min
utes.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before, Brett?”
he said at last in a quiet voice.
“Because we couldn’t be certain until we had some
sort of proof. It wouldn’t have been fair to worry you.”
There was an uneasy pause. Then Sir Ralph mut
tered, “You mean you were afraid I might not believe
you? Perhaps you were right, Brett. It’s an incredible
story.”
“The question is, Father, what do we do now?
Ought we to contact the Intelligence people rather
than the police? It’s possible they might want to keep
quiet about the discovery of Alexis’s body and give themselves a better chance to track down some of the people involved.”
Sir Ralph nodded. “I think you may be right. I have
contacts, of course. Do you want me to call someone
now to put things in motion?”
“It might be risky to use the phone. When you re
member how thorough the Communists are, there’s
quite a possibility the lines here are being tapped. It would explain how they got on so quickly to the fact
that Gail was going to Majorca. She rang the airport to
book her flight.”
So in the end it was decided that Brett should drive at once to London to see a man Sir Ralph had known
for many years.
Brett came and put his hands on my shoulders. “I
may be very late getting back, Gail, so try and get
some rest. I promise to come and wake you at once.”
To his father he said, “How much will you tell Cate
rina?”
Sir Ralph hesitated. “Nothing, I think—for the moment. Tomorrow I suppose I shall have to.”
For a while after the sound of Brett’s Lancia had
faded into the night, his father and I remained in the
library. We were silent, both of us deep in our thoughts.
At length Sir Ralph lifted his head, clearing his throat
huskily.
“I cannot tell you how deeply I regret the harsh things I have said and thought about your uncle in
these past days. He was my friend, and I should have
had more faith. Unfortunately, unforgivably, I allowed
myself to be deceived by appearances.” He turned his
head away for a moment, then faced me again. “Gail, my dear, you know, don’t you, that Alexis would not
have cared about death so long as the ideals he stood
for survived? And now, when the world learns the
truth, his books will be read, his teachings remem
bered. With ten times the force.” He gave a deep sigh. “Poor Madeleine—at least her sufferings are over now.
Without Alexis, life would have had no meaning for
her.”
I wanted to answer him, but I could not find my
voice. He reached out a hand to me, and I put mine
into it, feeling his fingers tighten. I knew that in his
blindness Sir Ralph too was in need of this physical
expression of sympathy.
After a long silence, he suggested that perhaps we ought to join Caterina and Elspeth. But I didn’t feel up to facing them this evening. Particularly Elspeth. So I
said I was rather tired and would prefer to return to
the west wing.
I intended telling Rudi at once about our discovery
in the lake. But he was nowhere around, not in the
Oak Room or anywhere else downstairs. Either he was
up in his bedroom, or he’d gone out to get some air.
Perhaps it was just as well, I thought with relief. I felt
utterly drained, emotionally exhausted. I went up to
my room and closed the door, thankful to be alone for
a little while.
I kept my ears tuned to the stillness and silence of
the house. When, presently, I heard the door of the
Oak Room beneath me being opened, I braced myself
to go down. I dreaded the task of breaking the news to
Rudi, but I could not shirk it.
At the turn of the stairs I paused, hearing a voice.
Not Rudi’s but Freda Aiken’s. A few steps nearer, and
I realized that she was talking on the phone. The study
door was slightly ajar, and though her voice was low,
I caught the words distinctly.
“I tell you that they know.”
I froze at the foot of the staircase. More than what
she said, it was the tone of her voice that arrested me.
There was panic in it, a sort of desperation.
She was listening now to someone who spoke at
length. I crept a few paces closer, standing behind the
door.
Freda said in a cracked whisper, “But it was noth
ing I did. The girl realized it wasn’t her uncle she saw
in Geneva. I heard her telling Rudi Bruckner. And
then tonight she and Warrender were out on the lake
in a boat. He had diving equipment and went down.
They must have found the body,”
She paused again, and above the furious thudding of
my own heartbeat, I fancied I could hear the voice at
the other end—a man’s voice, charged with anger.
“You can’t blame
me,”
exclaimed Freda suddenly.
“It was nothing
I
did.” Another pause, then hurriedly,
“Yes, Bruckner’s outside somewhere. I saw him go.
And she’s next door with the Warrenders at the mo
ment. That’s why I took the chance to phone you. But
I mustn’t be long.... Yes ... yes, I understand. I’ll
leave at once—right away.”
I heard her replace the telephone, and I quickly slipped through the open door of the Winter Parlor,
out of sight. I heard the study light switched off, the
door closed. Swiftly, Freda crossed to the stairs and
went up, making for her bedroom.
I was too shocked and stunned to move. It hadn’t
occurred to me that anyone else in the house could be involved now that Belle Forsyth was gone. Her un
speakable job had been completed, and Alexis was
dead and discredited. What possible reason could the
Communists have for placing another agent at Deer’s Leap? What had remained still to be done?
Madeleine.
My entire body went ice-cold. I began to shake,
powerless to control the wild trembling of my legs, the sickness in my stomach, the crawling of my skin.
My aunt’s death had been the final condemnation of Alexis Karel. If anybody still doubted that he had be
haved despicably, this act of desperation on the part
of his heartbroken, invalid wife would have convinced
them. Everyone the world over must be thinking now
that he had as good as killed his wife with his own two hands.
Had such a convenient and superbly timed piece of
propaganda really been pure chance? Or had the Communists contrived that, too?
I thought about the tragedy I had witnessed from
the garden. Could it be that Madeleine had been fight
ing desperately with Freda in order to
save
her life
and not to
end
it?
I closed my eyes, seeing it all again, reliving those
horrifying moments. The flutter of white inside the
room, then Madeleine at the window, calling, calling
Alexis’s name. And Freda Aiken coming up behind her, holding her, pulling her back.
Or pushing her?
With so frail an opponent as Madeleine, it would be
easy to make the one look like the other.
If Freda had told her that Alexis was out there in
the grounds, it would have been enough to send Mad
eleine rushing impetuously to the window, calling his
name. And afterward, the discovery of the newspaper
in her room would account for her “suicide.”
If only Brett were here, I thought frantically. But
he was halfway to London by now. Sir Ralph, being
blind, could do little to help. Caterina and Elspeth
hadn’t the least idea what was going on, and it would
take too long to explain.
I had to find Rudi.
I’d heard Freda Aiken say on the phone that he was
outside somewhere. I opened the French windows and slipped out to the terrace. Swiftly, I circled the house,
then ran across to the stable. But there was no sign of
him anywhere.
I dared not call out for fear of alerting Freda. I sped
down the path to the lake, stumbling in the darkness, whispering Rudi’s name. But no answer came. In des
peration, I turned and ran back toward the house. The
light in Freda Aiken’s room, her shadow moving be
hind the curtain, seemed to draw me, making me hurry
faster.
I’ll
leave right away,
she had said. She must be
stopped.
I went back in through the French windows and
ran straight upstairs to Freda’s room. I burst open the
door.
She was standing at the wardrobe, taking down
hangers. A suitcase lay open on the bed, already half
filled. The drawers of the dressing table were open, too.
She spun around and her face went pale.
“Oh, Miss Fleming—you did startle me. I didn’t
know you were in this side of the house.” Already she
was recovering, getting back to the pose of pathetic
gratitude she had adopted since Madeleine’s death.
“Actually ... well, to tell you the truth, I was thinking about your kindness in letting me stay on, but it doesn’t
really seem fair to have asked you. I was going to move
out in the morning, find a room somewhere.”
“You ... you killed Madeleine,” I said chokily.
Her eyes narrowed, going wary. The dress she was
holding slipped through her fingers to the floor.
“Whatever are you saying, Miss Fleming? It’s dread
ful to talk like that. I admit I feel to blame for not
watching your aunt more carefully, but that doesn’t
give you the right to accuse me of—”
“You killed her,” I repeated. “You killed her be
cause that’s what you were sent here to do. I heard
what you said on the phone just now.”
“You heard?” she gasped. “Oh dear, I thought you
were safely next door with the Warrenders.”
Casually she started edging toward me. I stood my
ground, defying her. But then, before I realized what
she meant to do, she lunged forward and swiftly turned the key in the lock. Slipping it into the pocket of her
cardigan, she stood and smiled at me maliciously. “There now, we can have a cozy chat while I finish
my packing.”
I boiled with anger—at letting myself be duped by
her, at being so impotent.
“I don’t know what you hope to achieve,” I said
icily. “I’m not frail like my aunt, so you’re not going
to push me out of the window.”
She bent and picked up the dress she had dropped
and started to fold it, slowly and deliberately.
“There will be no need for such drastic measures,
Miss Fleming. I’ve got some very effective knock-out
shots that will put you out cold for a couple of hours or so and no more than a nasty headache when you
wake up again. By then I shall be well away from
here.”
“You don’t think I’m going to let you give me an in
jection of dope.”
“I was trained in a very tough school,” she said
scornfully. “There are precious few
men
who could get
the better of me.”
I believed her. I could sense a sort of brute strength
in that short, squat figure. I put on an act of false
confidence because there was nothing else I could do.
“You seem to forget there are other people in the
house. Rudi is just downstairs.”
“Is he? And have you told him about what you
heard me saying on the phone?”
“Naturally. If I’m not down again in a minute or
two, he’ll be coming up.”