Chapter 9 Chapter nine

I found Brenda Leonides sitting where she had been sitting when I left her.As soon as I entered the door, she looked up suddenly. "Where is Inspector Taverner? Will he come back?" "Not yet." "Who are you?" I was finally asked the question I had been looking forward to being asked all morning. I answer quite factually. "I'm connected to the police, but I'm also a friend of the family." "The family! Beasts! I hate them all." She moved her mouth and looked at me.She looked gloomy, frightened, and angry. "They've been treating me badly—always. From the beginning. Why shouldn't I marry their baby daddy? What does it matter to them, they all get a bunch of money. He gave them. They don't There will be that brain that earns its own money!"

She continued: "Why can't a man remarry—even if he's a little too old? He's not old at all—he doesn't feel old. I like him very much. I like him." She looked at me defiantly. "I understand," I said. "I see." "I don't think you'd believe it—but it's true. I'm disgusted with men. I want a home—I want someone to greet me and say nice things to me. Ariel Ryder said to me Lovely words--he could make you laugh--and he's smart. He figured out all sorts of clever ways to get around those ridiculous laws. He was very, very smart. I'm not happy that he's dead. I'm sorry. "

She lay back on the sofa back.She had a somewhat wide mouth, which was tilted to the side at this time, showing a weird sleepy smile. "I've always been happy here, I've always felt safe. I go to those elegant tailors—the ones I read in the newspapers and magazines. I'm as good as anyone, and Aristide gives me some lovely things." She He stretched out his hand and looked at the ruby ​​on his finger. For a moment I saw her outstretched hand like a cat's paw, and her voice sounded to me like the purr of a contented pig.She was still smiling to herself. "What's wrong with that?" she asked. "I'm good to him, I make him happy." She leaned forward. "Do you know how I met him?"

She continued without waiting for my answer. "It was at the Woodsorrel. He ordered an egg on toast and I was crying when I brought it to him. 'Sit down,' he said, 'tell me what's the matter.' 'Oh, I can't ,' I said. 'If I did that, I'd be fired.' 'No, you won't,' he said, 'this place is mine.' I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment. He was such a queer Little old man, I thought so at first--but he's kind of majestic, and I told him everything...I think you've heard it all from them--think I'm a ring woman--but I'm not. I Raised with care. We had a shop - very classy - Art Embroidery. I was never one of those girls who had a lot of boyfriends or spoiled themselves. But Terry was different. He was Irish --and he went abroad...he never wrote letters or anything--I thought I was a fool. You know, that's how I got in trouble--like some dreadful little maid..."

There was a vulgar arrogance in her voice. "Aristides is wonderful, and he says everything will be all right. He says he's lonely. We'll be married right away, he says. It's like a dream. I found out later that he is the great Mr. Leonides. He owns a ton of shops, restaurants and nightclubs. It's almost like a fairy tale, isn't it?" "A kind of fairy tale." I said lightly. "We got married in a small church—and then went abroad." "Where's the child?" She looked at me with eyes suddenly pulled back from the distant past. "There is no child at all, I was mistaken."

She smiled a little, that crooked smile with lips turned up. "I swore to be a really good wife to him, and I did. I fed him all the things he liked to eat, dressed him in the colors he liked to look at, and did everything I could to please him. He was happy. But we Always stuck with his family, always coming out of his pocket. Old Miss de Haviland - I think she should go as soon as he gets married, I said so. But Aristide said, 'She's been here a long time It's her home now.' The truth is he likes them all here, trampled underfoot. They treat me badly, but he never seems to notice or mind. Roger hates me—you have Never met Roger? He hated me all the time, he was jealous. And Philip never talked to me. Now they're all trying to pretend I murdered him--but I didn't--I didn't!" she Leaning towards me. "Trust me, I didn't."

I found her very poor.The contempt with which the Leonides had spoken of her, the eagerness with which they believed she had committed the crime--all this now, at this moment, seemed utterly inhuman.She was alone, helpless, powerless, and surrounded by people. "And they think if it's not me, it's Lawrence," she went on. "How is Lawrence?" I asked. "I feel very sorry for Lawrence. He's too weak to go to war, not because he's a coward, but because he's too sensitive. I try to cheer him up and make him happy, he has to Teach those horrible kids. Eustace always laughed at him, and Josephine—oh, you've seen Josephine. You know what she's like."

I said I hadn't met Josephine yet. "Sometimes I think that kid is out of his mind. She's terribly sneaky, she looks weird...she gives me the creeps sometimes." I don't want to talk about Josephine.I bring the subject back to Lawrence Brown. "Who is he?" I asked. "Where does he come from?" I asked awkwardly.She blushed. "He's nothing special. He's like me... what chance do we have against all of them?" "Don't you think you're a little too hysterical?" "No, I don't think so. They want to think Lawrence did it—or I did it, and they took that cop to their side. What chance do I have?"

"You don't have to get too excited," I said. "Why couldn't it have been one of them who killed him? Or a stranger? Or one of the servants?" "Because of a lack of motivation." "Oh! Motives. What motives do I have? Or Lawrence?" I feel a little uncomfortable saying: "I think they probably think that you and - er - Lawrence - love each other - and you want to get married." She sat up abruptly. "The insinuation is evil! And it's not true! We never said that kind of thing to each other. I just felt sorry for him and wanted to cheer him up. We've been friends, that's all. You believe me , isn't it?"

I do believe her.That said, I believe that she and Lawrence are, as she said, just friends.But I also believe that she is actually in love with the young man, maybe she doesn't know it. With this in mind, I went downstairs to find Sophia. As I was going into the living room, Sophia poked her head out of a doorway at the front of the hall. "Hi," she said, "I'm helping Lanny make lunch." I went, but she came out of the hall, closed the door behind her, took my arm, and walked into the living room, which was empty. "Well," she said, "have you met Brenda? What do you think of her?"

"Frankly," I said, "I feel sorry for her." Sophia looked surprised. "I understand," she said. "So she convinced you." I feel a little outraged. "The thing is," I said, "I can understand her position. Obviously you can't." "What position?" "Honestly, Sophia, has any of the family ever treated her well, or even treated her fairly, since she came here?" "No, we were never nice to her. Why should we be nice to her?" "If nothing else, just for the common goodness of Christ." "What a high moral argument you're taking, Charlie. Brenda must have played it very well." "Really, Sophia, you seem—I don't know what's wrong with you." "I'm just being honest. You know Brenda's position, you said it. Now listen to my position, I don't like young women who make up hard times to marry a rich old man. I have every right not to like this type of young woman, and I have no reason to pretend I do. And if it's the bloody truth, you wouldn't like that young woman either." "Is her story made up?" I asked. "About having a baby? I don't know. I personally think it's made up." "And you're angry that your grandfather fell for it?" "Oh, grandpa wasn't fooled." Sophia laughed out loud. "Grandfather was never fooled by anyone. He wanted Brenda, he wanted to do the trick, play the hero and save the girl, marry a slave. He knew what he was doing, and everything went perfectly according to plan. From Grandpa's From a standpoint, the marriage was a complete success—like all of his careers." "Was hiring Lawrence Brown as governess another of your grandfather's successes?" I asked sarcastically. Sophia frowned. "You know, I'm not sure if it's another success for him, he wants to keep Brenda happy and interesting. Maybe he thinks jewelry and clothes aren't enough. He maybe thinks she wants to add a little romance to her life He might have figured that someone like Lawrence Brown, a real docile man, would be of use to him. A beautiful, sentimental friendship of the spirit would keep Brenda from the outside world. I don't think Grandpa couldn't have planned that kind of thing. He's a bit of a wicked old man, you know." "He must be," I said. "Of course, he couldn't have foreseen that this would lead to murder...and that," said Sophia suddenly and violently, "is why I don't really believe that she did it, though I would like to. If she Planning to murder him—or if she and Laurence were planning it together—grandfather should have known. It may seem far-fetched to you, I'm afraid—” "I must admit it is," I said. "But you don't know grandfather. Of course he's not going to pretend he doesn't know he's being murdered! So look! I'm facing a white wall." "She's scared, Sophia," I said. "She was very scared." "Afraid of Chief Inspector Taverner and his group of entourage? Yes, maybe they are a little scary. I think Lawrence is probably in a state of hysteria?" "Indeed. He's really ugly, I think. I don't know what women think of a man like him." "Don't you get it, Charlie? Lawrence is hot, actually." "As weak as he is?" I said incredulously. "Why do men always think that savages are the only ones who are attracted to the opposite sex? Lawrence is sexy--but I don't expect you to understand that." She looked at me. "Brenda seduced you, yes." "No bullshit. She's not even really pretty, and of course she doesn't—" "Glamour? No, she just makes you feel sorry for her. She's not actually beautiful, she's not smart at all - but she has a very special character. She can make waves, she's already created a trouble." "Sophia." I exclaimed in surprise. Sophia went to the door. "Forget it, Charlie. I've got to get lunch." "I'm going to help." "No, you stay here. There's a man in the kitchen that's going to scare Laney." "Sophia." I called her as she walked out. "What's up?" "Just a question about the servants. Why don't you have a servant in an apron and a cap downstairs to open the door for us?" "Grandfather has a cook," a housemaid, a maid who serves refreshments and a valet.He likes servants.He paid them well and, of course, they were loyal to him.Clemency and Roger had only one cleaning woman who came by day.They didn't like servants—or rather, Clemency didn't.If Roger didn't eat a big meal every day in town, he'd starve to death.Clemency's so-called meals consisted of lettuce, potatoes, and raw carrots.We had servants for a while, and then Mom had a tantrum and they all went away, and then we got the day help, and then the servants again, and it went on and on.Now is the time when we hire day helpers.Lanny is a permanently stationed servant in case of emergency.Now you know it. " Sophia went out.I slumped in a large satin chair, lost in thought. I've read Brenda's side story upstairs.Now I'm here again to get Sofia's side of it.I fully understand the justice of Sophia's point of view--that may be called the view of the Leonides family.They were angry that a stranger broke into their door with what they thought was a despicable means, and they had every right to be so, as Sophia said: This fact is not comfortable... But there's also a human side -- a side I understand that they don't.They were, and always have been, rich kids.They are completely ignorant of the temptations faced by the underdog in real life.Brenda Leonides wanted wealth, beauty and security -- and a home.She declared that she had paid for all this by keeping her old husband happy.I sympathized with her, of course, when I talked to her, I sympathized with her... Do I still sympathize with her that much now? There are two sides to the question - different perspectives - which one is the real...the real perspective... I got very little sleep the night before.I got up early to come here with Taverner.Now, in the warm floral scent of Magda Leonides' living room, my body relaxed in the embrace of a large chair cushion, my eyelids drooping... Thinking of Brenda, Sophia, and the portrait of the old man, my thoughts gradually became hazy. I am asleep……