The Paw in the Bottle

‘The first year of our marriage was happy enough. A little disappointing, perhaps, but nothing that I could actually put my finger on. Blanche was always very bright and sweet; we went everywhere together, did things together, but all the time I didn’t feel that she was quite mine. She wasn’t, of course; she belonged to a dozen different men, but I only found that out later.

‘The factory was developing and I was anxious not to raise capital from public money. I wanted full control as I had certain revolutionary ideas that might or might not succeed. I was gambling, and I preferred to gamble with my own money. The factory expanded. Soon I had practically two-thirds of my money tied up in it. That didn’t worry me, as I was sure the gamble would come off. It was then that Blanche began to make trouble. Thinking about it, it is obvious that Benton told her my capital was safely tied up. She didn’t wish to give me up, but she did wish to live as she liked. Although I didn’t have available capital I did have a good income, and Blanche didn’t want to lose that if she could help it. And so she began to drink and have whoever she fancied for a lover and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t get rid of her. I couldn’t afford it. I was busy at the factory, and after a while I didn’t care what she did. By then I was blind and what I didn’t see ceased to worry me. We lived like that for a couple of years. Then Benton began pressing her to marry him. It dawned on her that she could get rid of me; she could force me to sell out and give her the settlement. The terms of the settlement were watertight. In court I wouldn’t have had a leg to stand on. It came to my knowledge she was going to force the issue and I began to think of a way out. I had nearly completed my work. Another six months would see it through. If she held off until then I could sell out in safety, but she wouldn’t.’ He stubbed out his cigarette and immediately lit another. His hand was steady as he held the flame of the lighter to his cigarette. ‘Am I boring you, Julie? I’m telling you all this because I want you to know exactly why I had to get rid of Blanche. She was a drunkard by now and a danger. She didn’t care whom she corrupted. Any young fellow who amused her was in danger. You have no idea what a beastly little animal she had degenerated into. I was at my wits’ end. Then the chance for an operation came along. I had the operation, and while I was waiting for the bandages to be taken off it crossed my mind what an excellent alibi blindness would be if I decided to murder Blanche. It was just a passing thought, but the idea stuck and I thought about it more and more. I decided that if my sight was restored I would kill her.

‘The eye surgeon had warned me that the chances of my recovering my sight was a thousand to one. When they took off the bandages I could see nothing. The operation was obviously a failure and was accepted as such. But later in the day I suddenly found that I was seeing a little light, and by the evening I could see fairly well. I said nothing. I pretended that I was still blind.

‘When I returned to the flat I was surprised to find you there in Blanche’s clothes and with Gleb. I guessed you and he were after the furs and I began to think of a way in which I could use you both to strengthen my alibi. I had every reason to get rid of Blanche. I had no mercy for her. In every conceivable way she was a menace to my activities. There was no alternative. She had to go.

‘Well, you know the rest. The plan worked out better than I thought possible. The police are a little worried why Blanche should have returned to the flat, but I don’t think that will come to anything. I was very careful. And now, Julie, I have at least three months before I need worry about Blanche’s death. In those three months my work will be completed.’

‘You... you mean you’ll tell them? You won’t let Harry hang?’

‘Of course not. When I’ve finished what I am working on I shall go to the police and give myself up. It will be at least three months before Gleb will be in any serious danger. I don’t care a great deal what happens to me after my work is finished. I wouldn’t let such a specimen as Gleb die for something I did. So there’s no need to look so tragic, Julie. He’s having a bad time now, but he is quite safe. I promise you that. And I can’t really bother about him having a bad time: he deserves nothing better.’

Julie studied him. Her heart was thumping and her hands felt dry and hot.

‘I don’t trust you,’ she said finally. ‘I don’t believe you’ll give yourself up. I’m going to tell the police now what you’ve told me. Why should Harry stiffer for you?’