it.’
‘You don’t know Bill,’ she said. ‘But yes—it’s true. He wrote to his mother secretly, through the servants. He said a girl would get in touch with her, a wonderful nurse, who would soon be coming over to England. He told her to say nothing to the old man but to try to get this girl engaged to look after her; of course the girl was me, Inspector. The idea at first was simply to look after his interests, to try to get his mother’s money ensured to him, before she died. But then he got this other idea. The old man would soon be a widower; and he thought of him as a very old man, old and, he knew, in bad health. He hadn’t seen his step-father for years; to an adolescent, all adults seem far more aged than they are. He imagined an old crock far more in need of a nurse than of a wife. So—the first thing was a divorce. He beat up a man whom he accused of having an affair with me; he over-did that a bit and landed himself in prison; but even that he didn’t mind, it helped in speeding up the divorce because of the reason for the assault.’
‘Without a divorce, you couldn’t have inherited, of course. The marriage with the old man had to be water-tight.’
‘Inspector,’ she said, in anguish, ‘don’t believe for one moment that this began as a murder plot. It started from small beginnings, as I’ve said; and then in that gambler’s mind of his, it just grew and grew. Here was this golden chance. He knew that I had this—this power over men; something that I just have, I can’t help it, you’ve seen for yourself how, without any effort on my part, it works. With such an asset—how could he bear not to exploit it? A sick old man, recently widowed, a pretty little nurse already installed: how could it fail?’
‘And he was prepared to wait?’
‘He saw the thing in terms of a year or two, no longer. Meanwhile he would remain in England, we could see one another—after all, he was a member of the family. And I would provide him with money, I suppose; and he would gamble.’
‘But before this happy condition of things, you must nurse the dying mother; and then get to work succeeding in her place with the widower.’
She turned away her head. ‘I know you think it sounds terrible; put that way, it seems terrible to me too—and it always has done. But—well, of course I had only Bill’s picture of the situation, the picture of an ailing old man who would want a—a nurse rather than a wife… And when I found out differently—well, once again, you don’t know Bill. What Bill says, you have to do. And I did nurse her: she was dying, I couldn’t make any difference to that, but I did nurse her and care for her—almost her last words were of gratitude to me. When she died, I could hardly bear it. I rang up Bill in America and told him I couldn’t go through with it. But… Well, he just said—’
‘He said you must go through with it: and came over here himself, to make sure that you did?’
‘To make sure of that—and of something else?’ she said, faintly.
‘Yes,’ he said, thinking it over. ‘Of something else too. Because he’s still in love with you, Elizabeth, in his own way. And he might drive you to the altar with a horrible old man; but he would never let you get as far as the old man’s bed.’
And in that determination, he had found unexpected allies. ‘I suppose, Inspector, he may have meant to do it himself—God knows, he never to me breathed a word of such a thing. As I say, back in the States, he was visualising this old-man-and-nurse relationship. But anyway, he’s a gambler, here was this chance and nothing must stand in the way of it. Then he came over here and saw me again: and saw me with his stepfather… And then, perhaps, finding how the other two felt about it, I suppose he roped them in. Another gambler’s chance: so typical of Bill. Only this one will come off for a change, because in this way the law can’t do anything to them?’
‘How do
‘You don’t know Bill,’ she said. ‘But yes—it’s true. He wrote to his mother secretly, through the servants. He said a girl would get in touch with her, a wonderful nurse, who would soon be coming over to England. He told her to say nothing to the old man but to try to get this girl engaged to look after her; of course the girl was me, Inspector. The idea at first was simply to look after his interests, to try to get his mother’s money ensured to him, before she died. But then he got this other idea. The old man would soon be a widower; and he thought of him as a very old man, old and, he knew, in bad health. He hadn’t seen his step-father for years; to an adolescent, all adults seem far more aged than they are. He imagined an old crock far more in need of a nurse than of a wife. So—the first thing was a divorce. He beat up a man whom he accused of having an affair with me; he over-did that a bit and landed himself in prison; but even that he didn’t mind, it helped in speeding up the divorce because of the reason for the assault.’
‘Without a divorce, you couldn’t have inherited, of course. The marriage with the old man had to be water-tight.’
‘Inspector,’ she said, in anguish, ‘don’t believe for one moment that this began as a murder plot. It started from small beginnings, as I’ve said; and then in that gambler’s mind of his, it just grew and grew. Here was this golden chance. He knew that I had this—this power over men; something that I just have, I can’t help it, you’ve seen for yourself how, without any effort on my part, it works. With such an asset—how could he bear not to exploit it? A sick old man, recently widowed, a pretty little nurse already installed: how could it fail?’
‘And he was prepared to wait?’
‘He saw the thing in terms of a year or two, no longer. Meanwhile he would remain in England, we could see one another—after all, he was a member of the family. And I would provide him with money, I suppose; and he would gamble.’
‘But before this happy condition of things, you must nurse the dying mother; and then get to work succeeding in her place with the widower.’
She turned away her head. ‘I know you think it sounds terrible; put that way, it seems terrible to me too—and it always has done. But—well, of course I had only Bill’s picture of the situation, the picture of an ailing old man who would want a—a nurse rather than a wife… And when I found out differently—well, once again, you don’t know Bill. What Bill says, you have to do. And I did nurse her: she was dying, I couldn’t make any difference to that, but I did nurse her and care for her—almost her last words were of gratitude to me. When she died, I could hardly bear it. I rang up Bill in America and told him I couldn’t go through with it. But… Well, he just said—’
‘He said you must go through with it: and came over here himself, to make sure that you did?’
‘To make sure of that—and of something else?’ she said, faintly.
‘Yes,’ he said, thinking it over. ‘Of something else too. Because he’s still in love with you, Elizabeth, in his own way. And he might drive you to the altar with a horrible old man; but he would never let you get as far as the old man’s bed.’
And in that determination, he had found unexpected allies. ‘I suppose, Inspector, he may have meant to do it himself—God knows, he never to me breathed a word of such a thing. As I say, back in the States, he was visualising this old-man-and-nurse relationship. But anyway, he’s a gambler, here was this chance and nothing must stand in the way of it. Then he came over here and saw me again: and saw me with his stepfather… And then, perhaps, finding how the other two felt about it, I suppose he roped them in. Another gambler’s chance: so typical of Bill. Only this one will come off for a change, because in this way the law can’t do anything to them?’
‘How do
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