'Such as?' asked Starkwedder quietly.
Mrs Warwick regarded him steadily. 'First, I must tell you something else, Mr Starkwedder,' she said. 'I must tell you something about my son.' She went to the sofa and sat. 'I loved my son very dearly. As a child, and in his young manhood, he had many fine qualities. He was successful, resourceful, brave, sunny-tempered, a delightful companion.' She paused, and seemed to be remembering. Then she continued. 'There were, I must admit, always the defects of those qualities in him. He was impatient of controls, of restraints. He had a cruel streak in him, and he had a kind of fatal arrogance. So long as he was successful, all was well. But he did not have the kind of nature that could deal with adversity, and for some time now I have watched him slowly go downhill.'
Starkwedder quietly seated himself on the stool, facing her.
'If I say that he had become a monster,' Richard Warwick's mother continued, 'it would sound exaggerated. And yet, in some ways he was a monster - a monster of egoism, of pride, of cruelty. Because he had been hurt himself, he had an enormous desire to hurt others.' A hard note crept into her voice. 'So others began to suffer because of him. Do you understand me?'
'I think so - yes,' Starkwedder murmured softly.
Mrs Warwick's voice became gentle again as she went on. 'Now, I am very fond of my daughter-in-law. She has spirit, she is warm-hearted, and she has a very brave power of endurance. Richard swept her off her feet, but I don't know whether she was ever really in love with him. However, I will tell you this - she did everything a wife could do to make Richard's illness and inaction bearable.'
She thought for a moment, and her voice was sad as she continued, 'But he would have none of her help. He rejected it. I think at times he hated her, and perhaps that's more natural than one might suppose. So, when I tell you that the inevitable happened, I think you will understand what I mean. Laura fell in love with another man, and he with her.'
Starkwedder regarded Mrs Warwick thoughtfully. 'Why are you telling me all this?' he asked.
'Because you are a stranger,' she replied, firmly. 'These loves and hates and tribulations mean nothing to you, so you can hear about them unmoved.'
'Possibly.'
As though she had not heard him, Mrs Warwick went on speaking. 'So there came a time,' she said, 'when it seemed that only one thing would solve all the difficulties. Richard's death.'
Starkwedder continued to study her face. 'And so,' he murmured, 'conveniently, Richard died?'
'Yes,' Mrs Warwick answered.
There was a pause. Then Starkwedder rose, moved around the stool, and went to the table to stub out his cigarette. 'Excuse me putting this bluntly, Mrs Warwick,' he said, 'but are you confessing to murder?'
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Mrs Warwick was silent for a few moments. Then she said sharply, 'I will ask you a question, Mr Starkwedder. Can you understand that someone who has given life might also feel themselves entitled to take that life?'
Starkwedder paced around the room as he thought about this. Finally, 'Mothers have been known to kill their children, yes,' he admitted. 'But it's usually been for a sordid reason - insurance - or perhaps they have two or three children already and don't want to be bothered with another one.' Turning back suddenly to face her, he asked quickly, 'Does Richard's death benefit you financially?'
'No, it does not,' Mrs Warwick replied firmly.
Starkwedder made a deprecatory gesture. 'You must forgive my frankness -' he began, only to be interrupted by Mrs Warwick, who asked with more than a touch of asperity in her voice, 'Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?'
'Yes, I think I do,' he replied. 'You're telling me that it's possible for a mother to kill her son.' He walked over to the sofa and leaned across it as he continued. 'And you're telling me - specifically - that it's possible that you killed your son.' He paused, and looked at her steadily. 'Is that a theory,' he asked, 'or am I to understand it as a fact?'
'I am not confessing to anything,' Mrs Warwick answered. 'I am merely putting before you a certain point of view. An emergency might arise at a time when I was no longer here to deal with it. And in the event of such a thing happenings I want you to have this, and to make use of it.' She took an envelope from her pocket and handed it to him.
Starkwedder took the envelope, but remarked, 'That's all very well. However, I shan't be here. I'm going back to Abadan to carry on with my job.'
Mrs Warwick made a gesture of dismissal, clearly regarding the objection as insignificant. 'You won't be out of touch with civilization,' she reminded him. 'There are newspapers, radio and so on in Abadan, presumably.'
'Oh yes,' he agreed. 'We have all the civilized blessings.'
'Then please keep that envelope. You see whom it's addressed to?'
Starkwedder glanced at the envelope. 'The Chief Constable. Yes. But I'm not at all clear what's really in your mind,' he told Mrs Warwick. 'For a woman, you're really remarkably good at keeping a secret. Either you committed this murder yourself, or you know who did commit it. That's right, isn't it?'
She looked away from him as she replied, 'I don't propose to discuss the matter.'
Starkwedder sat in the armchair. 'And yet,' he persisted, Td like very much to know exactly what is in your mind.'
'Then I'm afraid I shan't tell you,' Mrs Warwick retorted. 'As you say, I am a woman who can keep her secrets well.'
Deciding to try a different tack, Starkwedder said, 'This valet fellow - the chap who looked after your son -' He paused as though trying to remember the valet's name.
'You mean Angell,' Mrs Warwick told him. 'Well, what about Angell?'
'Do you like him?' asked Starkwedder.
'No, I don't, as it happens,' she replied. 'But he was efficient at his job, and Richard was certainly not easy to work for.'
'I imagine not,' Starkwedder remarked. 'But Angell put up with these difficulties, did he?'
'It was made worth his while,' was Mrs Warwick's wry response.
Starkwedder again began to pace about the room. Then he turned to face Mrs Warwick and, trying to draw her out, asked, 'Did Richard have anything on him?'
The old lady looked puzzled for a moment. 'On him?' she repeated. 'What do you mean? Oh, I see. You mean, did Richard know something to Angell's discredit?'
'Yes, that's what I mean,' Starkwedder affirmed. 'Did he have a hold over Angell?'
Mrs Warwick thought for a moment before replying. Then, 'No, I don't think so,' she said.
'I was just wondering -' he began.
'You mean,' Mrs Warwick broke in, impatiently, 'did Angell shoot my son? I doubt it. I doubt that very much.'
'I see. You're not buying that one,' Starkwedder remarked. 'A pity, but there it is.'
Mrs Warwick suddenly got to her feet. 'Thank you, Mr Starkwedder,' she said. 'You have been very kind.'
She gave him her hand. Amused at her abruptness, he shook hands with her, then went to the door and opened it. After a moment she left the room. Starkwedder closed the door after her, smiling. 'Well, I'm damned!' he exclaimed to himself, as he looked again at the envelope. 'What a woman!'
Hurriedly, he put the envelope into his pocket, as Miss Bennett came into the room looking upset and preoccupied. 'What's she been saying to you?' she demanded.
Taken aback, Starkwedder played for time. 'Eh? What's that?' he responded.
'Mrs Warwick - what's she been saying?' Miss Bennett asked again.
Avoiding a direct reply, Starkwedder merely remarked, 'You seem upset.'
'Of course I'm upset,' she replied. 'I know what she's capable of.'
Starkwedder looked at the housekeeper steadily before asking, 'What is Mrs Warwick capable of? Murder?'
Miss Bennett took a step towards him. 'Is that what she's been trying to make you believe?' she asked. 'It isn't true, you know. You've got to realize that. It isn't true.'
'Well, one can't be sure. After all, it might be,' he observed judiciously.
'But I tell you it isn't,' she insisted.
'How can you possibly know that?' Starkwedder asked.
'I do know,' Miss Bennett replied. 'Do you think there's anything I don't know about the people in this house? I've been with them for years. Years, I tell you.' She sat in the armchair. 'I care for them very much, all of them.'
'Including the late Richard Warwick?' Starkwedder asked.
Miss Bennett seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then, 'I used to be fond of him - once,' she replied.
There was a pause. Starkwedder sat on the stool and regarded her steadily before murmuring, 'Go on.'
'He changed,' said Miss Bennett. 'He became -warped. His whole mentality became quite different. Sometimes he could be a devil.'
'Yes, everybody seems to agree on that,' Starkwedder observed.
'But if you'd known him as he used to be -' she began.
He interrupted her. 'I don't believe that, you know. I don't think people change.'
'Richard did,' Miss Bennett insisted.
'Oh, no, he didn't,' Starkwedder contradicted her. He resumed his prowling about the room. 'You've got things the wrong way round, I'll bet.
'I'd say he was always a devil underneath. Pd say he was one of those people who have to be happy and successful - or else! They hide their real selves as long as it gets them what they want. But underneath, the bad streak's always there.'
He turned to face Miss Bennett. 'His cruelty, I bet, was always there. He was probably a bully at school. He was attractive to women, of course. Women are always attracted by bullies. And he took a lot of his sadism out in his big-game hunting, I dare say.' He indicated the hunting trophies on the walls.
'Richard Warwick must have been a monstrous egoist,' he continued. 'That's how he seems to me from the way all you people talk about him. He enjoyed building himself up as a good fellow, generous, successful, lovable and all the rest of it.' Starkwedder was still pacing restlessly. 'But the mean streak was there, all right. And when his accident came, it was just the fa?ade that was torn away, and you all saw him as he really was.'
Miss Bennett rose. 'I don't see that you've got any business to talk,' she exclaimed indignantly. 'You're a stranger, and you know nothing about it.'
'Perhaps not, but I've heard a great deal about it,' Starkwedder retorted. 'Everyone seems to talk to me for some reason.'
'Yes, I suppose they do. Yes, I'm talking to you now, aren't I?' she admitted, as she sat down again. 'That's because we none of us here dare talk to one another.' She looked up at him, appealingly. 'I wish you weren't going away,' she told him.
Starkwedder shook his head. 'I've done nothing to help at all, really,' he said. 'All I've done is blunder in and discover a dead body for you.'
'But it was Laura and I who discovered Richard's body,' Miss Bennett contradicted him. She paused and then suddenly added, 'Or did Laura - did you - ?' Her voice trailed off into silence.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Starkwedder looked at Miss Bennett and smiled. 'You're pretty sharp, aren't you?' he observed.
Miss Bennett stared at him fixedly. 'You helped her, didn't you?' she asked, making it sound like an accusation.
He walked away from her. 'Now you're imagining things,' he told her.
'Oh, no, I'm not,' Miss Bennett retorted. 'I want Laura to be happy. Oh, I so very much want her to be happy!'
Starkwedder turned to her, exclaiming passionately, 'Damn it, so do I!'
Miss Bennett looked at him in surprise. Then she began to speak. 'In that case I - I've got to -* she began, but was interrupted. Gesturing to her to be silent, Starkwedder murmured, 'Just a minute.' He hastened to the french windows, opened a window and called, 'What are you doing?'
Miss Bennett now caught sight of Jan out on the lawn, brandishing a gun. Rising quickly, she too went across to the french windows and called urgently, 'Jan! Jan! Give me that gun.'
Jan, however, was too quick for her. He ran off laughing, and shouting, 'Come and get it,' as he ran. Miss Bennett followed him, with urgent cries of 'Jan! Jan!'
Starkwedder looked out across the lawn, trying to see what was happening. Then he turned back, and was about to go to the door, when Laura suddenly entered the room.
'Where's the inspector?' she asked him.
Starkwedder made an ineffectual gesture. Laura shut the door behind her, and came over to him. 'Michael, you must listen to me,' she implored him. Julian didn't kill Richard.'
'Indeed?' Starkwedder replied coldly. 'He told you so, did he?'
'You don't believe me, but it's true.' Laura sounded desperate.
'You mean you believe it's true,' Starkwedder pointed out to her.
'No, I know it's true,' Laura replied. 'You see, he thought I'd killed Richard.'
Starkwedder moved back into the room, away from the french windows. 'That's not exactly surprising,' he said with an acid smile. I thought so, too, didn't I?'
Laura's voice sounded even more desperate as she insisted, 'He thought I'd shot Richard. But he couldn't cope with it. It made him feel -' She stopped, embarrassed, then continued, 'It made him feel differently towards me.'
