Lonesome Road (12 page)

How is Caroline?” said Cosmo Frith.

His knock had brought Rachel to her sitting-room door. He stood there just beyond the threshold looking more perturbed than she had ever seen him, his usual genial expression quite overcast, his voice uncertain.

“She’s better. She ought to be quiet. We’ve left her lying down. She really oughtn’t to talk.”

Rachel went on saying these things to stop herself thinking, to stop Cosmo asking her why Caroline had fainted. If only everyone would go away and leave her alone.

But Cosmo was coming in. He took her arm, closed the door, and led her to a chair. He then seated himself in a purposeful manner. Nothing could be more certain than what that purpose was. Conversation—and conversation of the most serious character. He said without any of his usual poise,

“My dear, I expect you’d rather be alone, but after what you told us just now I felt—well, I won’t worry you with what I felt, but there are things which I am bound to say to you.”

Rachel looked across at him, and her heart warmed a little. She had always been fond of Cosmo, and without taking his proposals too seriously had been assured of his affection; but to see him so visibly shaken by her danger, this did thaw some of the ice about her heart. She was touched and melted. Her eyes thanked him as she said,

“It’s over. Don’t let us think about it.”

“But, my dear, we must. Do you really mean that you won’t call in the police?”

She nodded.

“But, my dear—why? Do let me beg of you—”

She shook her head.

“No, Cosmo.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you why.”

He leaned forward. “My dear, I had better tell you that your story is being—how shall I put it—questioned. Ernest and Mabel seem to have made up their minds that the shock of your fall had led you to imagine that you were pushed. Ella agrees with them. When I came away they were exchanging stories about people who had suffered from hallucinations and loss of memory after a shock.”

Rachel’s eyes brightened becomingly.

“I am sorry to disappoint everybody, but I really did go over the cliff. Unfortunately for Ella’s theory of hallucination—I feel quite sure that it was Ella—I have a witness, a perfectly credible witness, in Gale Brandon.”

Cosmo Frith’s eyebrows drew together.

“Ah, yes—he saved your life. But it wasn’t the fall they were questioning, my dear. Honestly, Rachel, can you be absolutely certain that you were pushed?”

She said “Yes” with stiff lips. Then her composure broke. “Do you think I want to believe it? Do you think I wouldn’t thank God with all my heart if I could make myself believe that I had slipped? But I can’t, Cosmo, I can’t. I was pushed, and that stone was rolled down on me, and though I couldn’t see who did it, I felt—I felt—” Her voice stopped.

Cosmo repeated the last word.

“You felt? What did you feel?”

She covered her eyes with her hand and spoke in a whisper.

“Hatred. Someone wanting to kill me—wanting it terribly—”

His shocked voice brought back her self-control.

“Rachel! My dear, do you know what you’re saying?”

“I think so.”

“That it was someone who knows you—whom you know?”

“Yes—I think so. I felt the hatred. You don’t hate someone—you—don’t—know.”

“Rachel! Rachel!” He got to his feet with a single abrupt movement and went past her to the window. Standing there with his back to her, he said in a shocked voice, “That’s not like you. I can’t believe it. Rachel, I can’t believe it.”

“I thought I couldn’t either. That’s the horrible part— I’ve come to believe that someone wants to kill me.”

There was a silence. Then Cosmo turned round.

“You mean that soberly?”

Rachel said, “It’s true.”

“Then there’s something I ought to tell you.”

He came back and sat down again. “You know, my dear, I’m not a busybody, and I wasn’t going to say anything, because after all it isn’t any of my business, and you might have thought—well, to be quite frank, I didn’t want to meddle.”

Rachel lifted her head from her hand.

“What is all this about, Cosmo?”

His genial ruddiness was still under eclipse. She had never seen him with such a look of distress, and more than distress—embarrassment.

“Cosmo—what is it?”

He hesitated, and then said with an effort,

“My dear, you mustn’t be vexed with me. This fellow Brandon—if anyone pushed you over the cliff, well, it seems to me that no one had a better opportunity.”

“Cosmo!”

“Rachel, I beg of you to listen. You can be angry with me afterwards. Did the fellow know that you were going to see Nanny yesterday afternoon?”

“Yes, he knew.”

“And that you would take the cliff path back?”

She was silent.

“Rachel—did he know that?”

She said, “Yes.”

“He knew it. And he drove up to the cottage in his car. Louisa says that his car was there, and that he drove you home, and—”

Rachel interrupted him.

“This is nonsense. Gale Brandon saved my life.”

He looked at her with compassion.

“You don’t know very much about him, do you? You haven’t known him very long. Are you sure you even know his real name?”

“His name is Brandon.”

“Or Brent,” said Cosmo Frith. And then, as Rachel stared, “Your father had a partner by the name of Brent, hadn’t he?”

“Cosmo!”

“You have been trying to find this partner or his son, haven’t you, ever since my uncle died? The father’s name was Sterling Brent. The son was only a child when his father was your father’s partner—about five or six years old, I believe, and everyone called him Sonny, but his name was Gale—Gale Brent—Gale Brandon.”

“How do you know?” said Rachel. “Father looked for the Brents, and I’ve looked for them. We made sure that Sterling Brent was dead, but we went on looking for the child. How do you know that his name was Gale? Because that has been one of the difficulties—no one knew his name. My father, Nanny, Mabel—they only knew him as Sonny. And you never knew him at all. Why do you say his name was Gale?”

There was a fluctuating color in her cheek. Her eyes were bright and restless.

Cosmo nodded.

“Must seem odd. But odd things happen, my dear. I’ll tell you how this one happened. Only a month or two ago I was digging into an old trunk that I’ve had stored since the year one, and there was a packet of letters from your mother to mine. They were very fond of each other, you know. Well, I was going to consign them to the flames. No use keeping old letters. When I saw my own name—and you know how it is, that’s a thing you can’t pass—at least I can’t. So I looked to see what Aunt Emily had got to say about me, and this is what it was: ‘Mr. Brent’s little boy is with us on a visit. They call him Sonny, which I think a great pity, because it is sure to stick. His own name is Gale, which is unusual and nice. He is the same age as your Cosmo, and just about the same height.’ There, my dear—are you convinced?”

“Did you keep the letter?” He shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, but that’s what was in it. You may depend upon it this fellow Gale Brandon is Gale Brent all right. Nanny swears he is.”

“Nanny?” Rachel was really startled.

“Oh, he’s been in to see her once or twice, wanting to know when you came, and how long you would stay, and she says she could swear to him. Anyway it’s easily proved, because if he was Sonny Brent, she says his father had him tattooed—name, or initials, I’m not sure which, up on the forearm somewhere.”

Rachel sat back in her chair.

“You seem to have gone well into it with Nanny,” she said.

“Now you’re vexed,” said Cosmo in a rueful voice. “But that doesn’t matter—you can be as angry as you like. Only, my dear, you needn’t be, because it all just came out when we were talking. You know what Nanny is. And I was going to tell you, and then I thought, ‘Better not—you don’t want her to think you’ve been meddling.’ But now, my dear—now, when it’s a question of your life being in danger—now I’m bound to speak, and you’re bound to listen. Your father quarrelled with Sterling Brent, and then made a fortune out of the enterprise in which they had been partners. Don’t you think it’s possible that the man who didn’t have his share in that fortune should have felt a bitter resentment, and perhaps have handed it on to his son? You say you were aware of a bitter hatred. I can imagine that Gale Brent might hate you if he thought your father had ruined his.”

Rachel said, “He doesn’t hate me.”

“Does he tell you that? Do you believe him? Listen to me, my dear. Who knew you were going to Nanny’s, and when you would be coming away? Who was there on the cliff path when you fell?”

Rachel’s eyes brightened.

“Gale Brandon. And he pushed me over? So far, so good. But why did he pull me up again?”

Cosmo put up a deprecating hand.

“Oh, my dear, can’t you find an answer to that? I’m afraid I can. You had gone over the cliff, but you hadn’t gone the whole way down. You were still alive, and a potential danger to him. He tries to dislodge you by rolling down one of the‘ stones from the broken wall, but it’s so dark he can’t see where you are. And then perhaps something startles him—a footstep, or a light. He may have seen Louisa’s lantern. She says she stood for a time at the top of the path to see whether you were in sight. He may have seen her. He may—I don’t know, but I suppose he may have had a return to sanity. Hatred isn’t sane, you know. It carries a man off his balance, and he does what he does, and then—my dear, I don’t know, but perhaps the sight of Louisa’s lantern may have brought him back. He begins to realize what he has done, he begins to think. Anyone may have seen his car outside the cottage. If you are going to speak and say that you were pushed, he is bound to be suspected. What is he to do? Just what he does do, my dear—be the first to find you, and put himself beyond suspicion by staging a gallant rescue.”

Rachel felt a cold horror which seeped into her mind and numbed it. Amongst all the dreadful things which she had thought of, and to which she had in some horrible way become accustomed, this new thing loomed up and dwarfed them all in horror. Always afterwards she knew how there had come into being that phrase—his heart was wrung. She did actually feel as if a hand had been laid on her heart—had closed upon it—twisted it.

She did not know that every vestige of color had left her face. But Cosmo Frith showed his alarm by coming to her side. He bent over her at first with a hand upon her shoulder. Then, still holding her, he went down upon his knees by the chair.

“My dear, dear Rachel—don’t take it like that! Has he stolen so much of you that you can’t bear to know what he is? You’ve only known him for a few weeks—I’ve loved you all my life. I’ve told you so over and over—perhaps I’ve told you too often. That’s the way of the faithful lover—he’s always there, and so—well, everyone gets used to him. But now, my dear, now—now, when there’s a chance that I can do something for you at last—won’t you let me do it? Won’t you trust me and let me take you out of all this? There are wonderful things that we could do together, wonderful places to see. Forget I’m the cousin you’ve known all your life, or only remember it to think how long I’ve loved you, and to think I’m your lover now and always will be, and that if you will let me I’ll teach you—oh, my dear, I know I can teach you—to love me too.”

Rachel was very deeply moved. This was not the Cosmo with whom she had shared a cousinly past. There was a warmth and an emotion which he had never shown her before. The thought that it was her danger which had evoked it could not fail to call up her own warmest feelings. After the long strain, the imminent terror, the chill of inevitable suspicion, this sense of kinship, kindness and protection was astonishingly grateful. If there had been no Gale Brandon, the moment might have brought Cosmo all he dreamed of. Even twenty-four hours ago he might have had his chance, but the water had gone down stream under yesterday’s bridge since then, and that flow once past returns no more.

Rachel let herself rest against his arm for a moment. Then she drew back and said very kindly indeed,

“Oh, Cosmo dear, I never knew you cared—like that. But—” She felt the jerk of his arm at the word.

“Rachel!”

“Oh, Cosmo dear, I can’t. It isn’t any good. You’re like my brother—you always have been—and I just can’t think of you in any other way.”

He drew back, got up, and walked away.

“Is that your last word?”

“I’m afraid so.”

There was a horrid strained pause. Then the telephone bell rang. Rachel had never been so glad to hear it in all her life. As she went to the writing-table and took up the receiver, Cosmo stopped for a moment beside her and laid his hand upon her arm. He said quite low,

“It’s all right, my dear.”

She felt his lips just touch her wrist. The he went quickly out of the room and shut the door.

With mingled sadness and relief Rachel turned to listen to what her bank manager had to say.

Miss Silver came along the passage from her room and stopped at Caroline Ponsonby’s door. She turned the handle noiselessly, and was aware of a curtained dusk, and silence. These were expected. She pushed the door an inch or two and listened for the sound of measured breathing. But it was a very different sound which broke the silence. Miss Silver’s hand closed hard upon the knob, for what she heard was Richard Treherne speaking in a tone of agony.

“Caroline! Caroline! Caroline!”

Miss Silver stood where she was for a moment. Then she pushed the door a little wider and looked around it. Caroline lay on her bed with her face half hidden in the pillow, whilst Richard, on his knees beside her, buried his face in his hands and groaned.

As a gentlewoman, the thought of eavesdropping was extremely repugnant to Miss Silver. As a detective engaged upon a case of attempted murder, she treated her scruples with exemplary firmness. She heard Caroline give a heartbroken sob, and hoped very much that she would be permitted to hear something rather more articulate.

Her hope was fulfilled. Richard’s head came up with a jerk.

“Oh, my darling—don’t! You’re tearing my heart out. I tell you I can’t bear it. You turn away from me, you refuse me, you look at me as if I was a stranger, you faint—and you won’t tell me why. Do you think it’s any use pretending with me? Oh, my darling, you know it isn’t. What is it all about? You’ve got to tell me. You can’t go on like this. You’re breaking your heart, and you won’t say why.”

Caroline spoke in a muffled voice against her pillow.

“I can’t go on. I can’t say why. I don’t need to—you know.”

“I know?”

“You know—I know—I can’t go on.” She raised her head suddenly. “Richard, will you go away—right away and never come back? Will you swear that you will never come back?”

“Caroline!”

She caught his wrist and pulled herself up.

“You must! I tell you I know. You’ve got to go away. It’s killing me.”

“Caroline!”

She pushed back the hair from her eyes, and staring over his shoulder, she saw Miss Silver peering round the door. The neatly netted front disappeared a fraction of a second too late. There was a discreet knock.

When Miss Silver entered, Caroline’s face was hidden again. Mr. Richard Treherne was on his feet. If anyone was embarrassed, it was not the visitor.

“I thought I heard voices,” she said brightly. She addressed a glowering young man. “I hope Miss Caroline is feeling better—but I only came to inquire, not to disturb her. I feel sure she needs quiet and should on no account be disturbed, but I thought I might just inquire.”

Richard strode to the door and out of the room. For a moment Miss Silver looked after him with a peculiar expression on her face. Then she approached the bed.

“Miss Caroline,” she said, “I am a stranger, but my business in this house is to help Miss Treherne who brought me here. I think you need help too. You are in great trouble—you know something which you are afraid to tell. Believe me, the truth is always best. Sometimes it is easier to speak to a stranger than to someone in the same family. If you will tell me what is troubling you, I will do my best to help you. I have no connection with the police, and this affair is not as yet in their hands. It is still possible for me to help you. But if you will not speak to me, let me urge you very strongly to cross that passage and go to Miss Treherne. She loves you dearly. There is nothing that you could not tell her. If you remain silent, great harm may come of it.”

There was a pause. Then Caroline raised herself upon her elbow. Her eyes were wide and blank with misery, her features pinched and drawn, her color ghastly. Miss Silver looked at her with compassion. She spoke in a gentle voice.

“I heard what you said just now. You told Mr. Richard that you knew. What is it that you know? It would be better for everyone if you would say.”

Caroline stared at her. She said rather wildly,

“I can’t think—I’m ill—I want to think. Oh, won’t you please go away?”

Miss Silver nodded.

“Very well, I will go away and leave you to think over what I have said. I do not wish to hurry you, but it will be better for everyone if you will make up your mind as quickly as possible.”

She went out of the room and shut the door. As she did so she saw the girl sink back again and hide her face.