The Paw in the Bottle
- Автор: Чейз Джеймс Хэдли
- Год: 1949
- Язык: английский
- Год: Jarrolds
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Paw in the Bottle». Краткое содержание книги:
She had everything that money could buy, except happiness, and her conscience gave her no peace. She began to brood about Blanche’s death and the full horror of Wesley’s crime slowly dawned on her. Although it was over a week since the murder, the fact that Wesley had killed Blanche only now meant anything to her, and once she began to think of him as a killer she became frightened of him. He had told her she held his life in her hands. If he could get rid of her no one would ever find out he had killed Blanche. She became nervous, and would wake in the night, terrified he was in the room, creeping on her to kill her. She locked herself in; she never turned her back on him; she was always watching to see he didn’t have a chance to poison her.
She had an idea that she might sell the jewellery he had lent her and with the proceeds be independent of him, but she calculated that the money wouldn’t last her for long and then she would be no better off. He had promised to settle money on her, and even though, as the days went by, she distrusted him more and more, she could not bring herself to lose the chance of being rich at last in her own right.
When Harry came up before the magistrates after the remand she was called as a witness for the prosecution. She was panic-stricken at the thought of publicly admitting she had been a police informer.
She received no sympathy from Wesley.
‘You can’t have your cake and eat it,’ he told her. ‘But please yourself what you say. If it makes you feel any better tell them I did it. I’m not going to influence you one way or the other,’ and he smiled at her, obviously amused by the furious, frustrated expression on her face.
She raged inwardly that he had so accurately judged her character. He had no misgivings that she would give him away. He was certain he was safe. Again and again, infuriated by his confidence, she was on the point of telephoning the police, but each time she changed her mind at the last moment.
When she stood in the witness-box, stared at by hundreds of eyes, she burned with shame. The sight of Harry sent a pang through her heart. She scarcely recognized him. He had lost weight, his face was lined and drawn, and there was a trapped, terrified look in his eyes. And he wouldn’t even look at her. That was the last straw. He stood in the dock, his flashy suit pathetically out of place in the drab, sordid surroundings, his hands clutching on to the dock rail, his head lowered.
The Counsel for the Prosecution led her quickly and kindly through her story. He made things easy for her, drawing for the Court a picture of a terrified, inexperienced young girl caught up in a web of circumstances over which she had no control. Julie thought he overdid it, and wished he would stop harping on her innocence. What could Harry be thinking of her? She glanced across the well of the court, but Harry still wouldn’t look at her.
But when the Counsel for the Defence began to question her the friendly atmosphere underwent a swift change. He seemed determined to spoil the good impression the Court had of her and to discredit her as much as he could. He succeeded. He asked her point-blank whether it was a fact she had been intimate with Harry. She hedged, but he kept after her until, red-faced and confused, she admitted it. So much for her innocence! Was it not a fact, he went on, that she had taken the job as Blanche’s maid willingly, knowing a robbery had been planned? She denied this so hotly she could see no one believed her. What was she doing now? And he stared down his beaky nose when she said she was looking after Mr. Wesley. As a maid? He wanted to know. As a housekeeper, she floundered.
She left the witness-box knowing she hadn’t helped Harry nor herself. The Counsel for the Defence had made her out to be a female Judas. She couldn’t bear to stay in court after that, and it was Wesley who told her later that Harry had been committed for trial at the next Old Bailey sessions.
The papers were full of the case, and she read and re-read the accounts, shrinking with shame when she read the veiled insinuations the reporters had made regarding her relations with Wesley. She realized, too, that Harry hadn’t a chance. Although no one actually saw him shoot Blanche, when the police had burst in they had seen him trying to escape. Only Julie and he were in the flat. Julie, as a police informer, had no motive for killing Blanche, but Harry had. He was, as the Counsel for the Prosecution had said, a rat in a trap. The whole thing appeared to be a foregone conclusion.
It was then that Julie really began to worry. Harry’s white, agonized face haunted her. She kept reassuring herself that he would be all right, that Wesley would give himself up, but when she realized what a hopeless trap Harry was in she began to fear that something might happen to Wesley. Suppose he was run over and killed? Then nothing could save Harry. Tormented by this idea, she went to Wesley.
‘Do you think I am utterly heartless?’ he said, laying down a sheaf of papers he was studying. ‘I thought of that weeks ago and there’s a signed statement at my bank to be opened after my death. If anything happens to me, he won’t suffer.’
‘How do I know you are speaking the truth?’
‘You should try to assess character, Julie. I don’t think you believe I’ll save Gleb. Do you?’
‘If you say so I suppose you will,’ Julie said sulkily.
One night, a week before the trial, Wesley called her as soon as he entered the flat. She hadn’t seen him for two days and she came from her room cautiously.
‘What is it?’
She stood just inside the doorway and looked suspiciously at him. He was pacing up and down, a frown on his face, his hands thrust deep into his trousers pockets.
‘I’ve seen Dawson, he tells me Dana French has come for-ward as a witness for the defence.’
‘But she will be arrested!’ Julie exclaimed; changing colour.
‘Apparently she is in love with Gleb.’
‘What do you mean?’ Julie demanded angrily.
‘She’s sacrificing herself because she thinks she can save him.’
‘But how?’
Wesley shrugged.
‘She’s willing to swear the gun belonged to Theo and that it was Theo who shot Blanche. She doesn’t realize that her evidence won’t save Gleb. But I thought it might interest you. It seems there are still a few people left who are unselfish.’
Julie clenched her fists. She was sick with envy and rage. To think that painted creature should have done that for Harry!
‘You hate me, don’t you?’ she exclaimed, facing him.
‘No, Julie, I don’t hate you. In fact, you interest me. Nothing would please me more than for you to go to the police and tell them the truth. It would prove to me that I was entirely wrong about you.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes, you do. Even now, when this girl has set you an example, you won’t risk the chance of losing your money.’
‘You’re just trying to be beastly. Harry won’t hang. You’ve promised me. Why should I give up everything for the sake of a few weeks? It’s you who are selfish and cruel. You aren’t going to let him hang?’
‘No, but it’s hard for you to believe, isn’t it? I’m beginning to think you wouldn’t sacrifice anything for him even if I did let him hang.’
‘I would! You’d better not try any tricks. It’s only because I know I can save him that I’m doing this. Why shouldn’t I have happiness and money? All my life I’ve had to do without.’
‘Happiness? Are you happy, Julie? I doubt it. And when you are on your own and have your money you still won’t be happy. A girl like you can never be happy. You’re chasing something that doesn’t exist.’