Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty-Four

We are back in the nightmare again. This is what I thought as Taverner and I drove out of London, a replay of our last journey. Taverner cursed intermittently. As for me, I repeat foolishly and uselessly: "It wasn't Brenda and Lawrence, it wasn't Brenda and Lawrence." Did I really ever think so?I'm so lucky to be them.So glad to have avoided another, more sinister possibility... They fell in love with each other.They wrote silly, promiscuous, romantic love letters to each other.They were basking in the hope that Brenda's husband would die soon, peacefully and happily - but I really doubt they ever actually wanted him dead.I've always had the feeling that a hopeless, unhappy relationship would suit them just as well, or better, than a mediocre married life.I don't think Brenda is really an impulsive woman, she's too poor, too aloof, and she longs for a romance.And I also think that Lawrence is the type who prefers frustration and hazy dreams of future happiness rather than real physical satisfaction.

They fell into the trap, terrified, and did not have the wisdom to find their way out.Lawrence was incredibly dumb, and didn't even destroy Brenda's letter.Brenda must have destroyed his letter, for his love for her had not been discovered.And it wasn't Lawrence who had put that marble doorstop on the door, it was someone else whose true face was still hidden behind a mask. We arrive at the front door to park.Taverner got out of the car and I followed him.There was a plainclothes cop I didn't know in the hall, and he saluted Taverner, who pulled him aside. My attention was drawn to the pile of suitcases in the lobby, all labeled and ready to be shipped.As I watched, Clemency came down the stairs and through the open door on the ground floor.She was wearing the same red dress with a tweed coat over it and a red felt hat.

"You're just in time to say goodbye, Charlie," she said. "Are you leaving?" "We're going to London tonight. The plane leaves early tomorrow morning." She smiled calmly, but I think there was a watchful look in her eyes. "But of course you can't go now, can you?" "Why not?" Her voice was stiff. "This murder happened—" "Lanny's death has nothing to do with us." "Probably irrelevant. But—" "Why do you say 'maybe not'? It's not about us. Roger and I were upstairs the whole time, unpacking. We didn't go downstairs at all while the cup of cocoa was on the lobby table."

"Can you prove it?" "I can testify for Roger, and Roger can testify for me..." "That's all...you are husband and wife, remember." Her anger died down. "You're so hard, Charlie! Roger and I are leaving - to live our own lives. Why on earth would we want to poison a stupid old woman who never hurt us?" "Maybe it's not her that you want to poison." "Then it's even less likely that we would poison a small child." "It depends on what kind of child it is, doesn't it?" "what do you mean?"

"Josephine is not an ordinary child, she knows a lot about people, she—" I stop.Josephine emerged from the door leading into the parlour, still with the apple in her mouth, and her eyes gleamed with a cruel smugness. "Laney was poisoned," she said. "Just like grandpa. That's pretty exciting, isn't it?" "Aren't you disturbed at all?" I asked sharply. "You like her, don't you?" "I don't particularly like it. She always scolds me for this and that, she's trivial." "Do you like anyone, Josephine?" asked Clemency.

Josephine turned her cruel eyes to Clemency. "I love Aunt Edith. And I might love Eustace, only he's always been mean to me and has no interest in finding out who did it all." "You'd better not look any further, Josephine," I said. "It's very unsafe." "I don't need to look any further," said Josephine. "I see." There was a silence.Josephine's eyes were fixed on Clemency without blinking.A sound like a long sigh reached my ears.I turned around abruptly.Edith Haviland was standing halfway up the stairs--though I don't think it was she who sighed.The sigh came from behind the door Josephine had just walked out of.

I stepped over and pulled the door open, but saw no one. Yet I was deeply troubled.Someone had just stood behind that door and heard what Josephine said.I walked back and grabbed Josephine's arm.She ate the apple and stared at Clemency closely.Beneath her stern features, there was, I thought, a certain wicked elation. "Come on, Josephine," I said. "Let's go talk." I think Josephine might have wanted to fight back, but I won't let her mess around.I forced her to run back to her house.There is a small living room where I am sure we will not be disturbed.I led her in, shut the door tightly, and sat her down in a chair.I pulled up another chair and sat in front of her, face to face with her.

"Now, Josephine," I said, "let's show our cards. What the hell do you know?" "many things." "Then I don't doubt it. Your brain is probably full of irrelevant things. But you know exactly what I mean, don't you?" "Of course I know, I'm not stupid." I don't know whether her understatement hurts me or the police, but I ignore it and continue: "Do you know who puts stuff in your cocoa?" Josephine nodded. "Do you know who poisoned your grandfather?" Josephine nodded again. "Who else knocked your head out?"

Josephine nodded again. "Then you're going to tell what you know. You're going to tell me everything—tell me now." "Do not say." "You must speak. Every bit of information you have or detect must be given to the police." "I wouldn't tell the police anything, they're stupid. They thought it was Brenda—or Lawrence, I'm not as stupid as they are. I know very well it wasn't them, I always knew who it was Yes, then I did an experiment—now I know I was right." She finished speaking triumphantly. I prayed to God and asked patiently from the beginning.

"Listen. Josephine, maybe you're very smart—Josephine thanked me." But being smart won't do you much good if you can't live.Don't you understand, you little fool, that if you continue to keep the secret like this, you will be in great danger? " Josephine nodded in agreement. "certainly." "You've almost killed yourself twice. Once you almost killed yourself, and the other time you caused someone else to die. Don't you understand that if you continue to go around proudly and loudly proclaim that you know who the murderer is? , then the murderer will move again—either you die or someone else dies for you?"

“In some books, one person after another is killed,” Josephine told me triumphantly. "In the end you find the killer because he or she is literally the only one left." "This isn't a detective story. This is Gabled Triple House, Svenly, and you're a silly little girl who's read too much for no good, and I'll let you tell if I have to shake you until your teeth chatter. I know what you know." "I don't have to tell you the truth." "You could, but you wouldn't. Anyway, what are you waiting for?" "You don't understand," said Josephine. "Maybe I'll never say it. You know, I might—like that guy." She paused, as if to let me understand her. "And if I do say it," she continued, "I'm going to say it really well. I'm going to have everybody sitting around me, and I'm going to start at the beginning—give some clues, and then, Quite suddenly, I'd say: "And that's you...'" Just as Edith Haviland walked in, she pointed her index finger dramatically. "Throw that pip in the wastepaper bin, Josephine," Edith said. "Don't you have a handkerchief? You see your fingers are stuck. I'll take you to the car." She gave me a meaningful look and said, "She'll be safer out of here for an hour or two." Josephine protested, and Edith added, "Let's go to the Long Bridge for some soda ice cream." Josephine's eyes lit up and said, "Two copies." "Maybe," Edith said. "Go get your hat now, and put on your coat, and your dark blue scarf. It's cold outside today. You'd better go with her, Charlie, and don't leave her. I'll write a note or two." She sat down at the desk and I escorted Josephine out, clinging to her like a vampire even if Edith hadn't warned her. I firmly believe that the crisis is always around this child. While I was watching Josephine get dressed, Sophia walked in.She looked as if she was surprised to see me. "Oh, Charlie, you've become a nurse? I didn't know you were here." "I'm going to the Long Bridge with Aunt Edith," said Josephine grandly. "We're going to eat ice cream." "What, in this weather?" "Soda ice cream is always good," Josephine said. "When you get cold in your stomach, it makes you feel hotter outside." Sophia frowned, she looked worried, I was taken aback by her pale face and the blackness under her eyes. We go back to the little living room.Edith had just sealed an envelope or two when she rose briskly. "We're leaving now," she said. "I've asked Evans to bring me that Ford." She walked quickly out into the hall, and we followed her. Again my eyes were drawn to the suitcases and the blue labels on them.For some reason, they caused me a vague unease. "It's a pretty nice day today," said Edith Haviland, putting on her gloves and looking up at the sky.The Ford was parked in front of the house. "Cold--but refreshing. A real English autumn. How beautiful those bare branches are reaching up to the sky--only a golden leaf or two still hanging on them..." She was silent for a while, then turned and kissed Sophia. "Goodbye, dear," she said. "Don't worry too much, some things have to be faced and endured." Then she said, "Come on, Josephine." In the car, Josephine climbed up and sat beside her. The two of them drove away, waving at us. "I think she's probably right. It's better to let Josephine go away. But we have to let the child tell what she knows, Sophia." "She probably doesn't know anything, she's just showing off. Josephine likes to make herself look important, you know." "Not only that. Do they know what poison is in the cocoa?" "They think it's digitalis (heart tonic). Edith takes digitalis because she has a bad heart. She has a whole bottle of little pills in her room and it's empty now." "She should lock up this kind of thing." "She's locked up. I don't think the man would have any trouble finding out where she kept the key." "That person? Who?" I looked at the pile of luggage again.I suddenly said loudly: "They can't go, can't let them go." Sophia looked surprised. "Roger and Clemency? Charlie, don't you think—" "Oh, what do you think?" Sophia spread her hands helplessly. "I don't know, Charlie," she whispered. "All I know is that I'm back—back in the nightmare—" "I know. That's what I said to myself when Taverner and I drove up." "Because it's a complete nightmare. Walking in a group of people you know and looking at their faces - and all of a sudden the faces change - become people you don't know anymore - become strangers People—cruel strangers..." she exclaimed: "Go outside, Charlie—go outside. It's safer out there...I'm afraid of being inside..."