The Paw in the Bottle

Julie suddenly felt as if she were going to be sick.

‘You mean you won’t have any money? Then what’s to become of me? You promised to settle money on me!’

‘I know. I’m sorry, Julie, but I couldn’t foresee this, could I? There won’t be anything left of my money. Everything I owned went into the lab. But you’ll have the furs and the jewellery. They are worth a good bit. If you’re careful you’ll be all right.’

‘You’ve cheated me!’ she cried furiously. ‘After all I’ve been through; after all your rotten promises! Damn you! I might have known this would happen. All right, you won’t get any more time. I’m going to the police. I’ll make you pay for this.’

‘I’m sorry, Julie. You don’t really deserve anything, but a promise is a promise. I would have kept my word. I want you to believe that.’

‘You talk! That’s all you’re any good at — talking! You talked me into this! You and your rotten promises!’ Tears of rage ran down her face and she sat huddled up in the corner of the taxi, her hands clenched in her lap.

‘You’ll have the furs. I hope they’ll give you some happiness. You’re due for a little happiness, but somehow I don’t think you’ll get it. What will you do, Julie? Will you wait for Gleb to come out of prison? You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she said fiercely. ‘He’s worth six of you. I’ll wait for him. You can think of us while they’re hanging you!’

The taxi rattled past the White City. For a moment or so the inside of the taxi was lit up by the battery of arc lamps that had blazed up for the last race. And in the hard, glaring light they looked at each other.

‘Try not to be bitter about it, Julie. I have lost much more than you. But then, I suppose I’m a lot older than you and I’ve learned to accept disappointments. If I had more time I would begin again, but that is impossible now. It looks as if Blanche has had the last laugh after all. It was a mistake to have killed her. You see, it hasn’t done me any good.’

Julie didn’t say anything; her mind was seething with dismay and fury. After all she had endured from him and now no money!

‘I would never have believed Benton had the nerve to do such a thing,’ Wesley went on. The swiftly passing street lamps lit up his white face. He looked tired and sad. ‘They say he’s badly burned.’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Julie exclaimed, beating her fists together. She was beside herself with disappointment. ‘That’s all you’re any good at, talking and making rotten promises.’ She swung round to face him. ‘And how do I know you’ll give me the furs after all this? How do I know you won’t cheat me again?’

‘Go to my bank in the morning. They’ll have a letter for you. There’s a statement, too, for the police. I’ve put everything in order.’

‘You go. Why should I run errands for you? It’s going to be different now. I’m not going to be ordered about any more.’

‘Poor Julie,’ he said wearily. ‘I’m very sorry for you.’

The taxi began to slow down as the traffic thickened. In the distance they could see a vast red glow in the sky.

‘There it is,’ he went on quietly. ‘I said it would be an awe-inspiring sight, didn’t I?’

She noticed his hands were trembling but she felt no pity for him. At least she would have the furs. She would keep the Arctic fox and sell the others. With the money she raised on the furs and the jewellery and with the money Harry must have put by they should be all right.

As the taxi neared the factory they could see the flames and the spirals of oily, black smoke outlined against the red sky. Lines of cars were parked on either side of the road, and a big crowd was moving towards the fire. The night was full of sounds: excited voices, laughter, the shuffling of feet. Some-where in the crowd a dog was barking; a sharp sound that blended with the dry crackling of burning timber.

A policeman stopped the taxi.

‘You can’t get through,’ he said, with patient good humour. ‘The hoses are across the road.’

‘We’ll walk,’ Wesley said, and got out of the car. ‘Will you wait?’ he went on to the driver. ‘The young lady will be coming back.’

Julie followed him along the grass verge and they quickly caught up with the slow-moving crowd. Wesley caught hold of her arm and began to weave his way through the crowd, pulling her up with him. A man jostled him and knocked off his dark glasses. Julie, coming up behind, trod on them. She felt the lenses crunch under her foot. It gave her an odd physical satisfaction. He was finished, she thought. The breaking of the glasses seemed to her to be the final milestone of their association.

‘They’ve broken,’ she said to him.

‘What does it matter? Don’t you see, Julie, for me nothing matters now.’

They reached the gates of the factory. Now they could hear the hiss of water striking red-hot metal. The roar of the flames sounded near, and the air was hot and dry. Wesley spoke to one of the policemen guarding the gate. He showed him a card and the policeman let him through.

Gerridge came running out of the smoke towards them. There was a long streak of oily soot across his face and a shocked, scared look in his eyes.