The Judas Kiss (17 page)

"But why? They were hers, she gave them to me. They are mine; I give them to you. They are yours."

"I do not know that I want them." That was true. She had loved that star, but the charm was gone. "I must take them to the police," she repeated.

"I cannot prevent you."

"And that means telling them you brought them."

"I cannot prevent you," he said again. "Perhaps in the morning, and you will tell them all I have told you."

What must she do? Pearl was almost too tired to think. It was all so unbelievable; yet she believed him.

"Tell me," she said slowly, "did you do anything either by actions or by threats to bring about her death?"

"Mon Dieu! No! I swear it. At one moment I was tempted to seize her and choke the life out of her. But what good would that do? No! I said, 'Think it over, Adelaide. Your home is with me. I will wait for you.' She was well when I left her. They said she was well all the next day. She gave me the diamonds of her own free will. I did not know she had them. I did not want them. His gift! But I thought perhaps she would come back for them. Now she never will."

He stood up.

"I did not touch her and I pray that God will punish the devil who killed her. I ask for no promise; you must do as you see right. Goodbye, little friend."

He strode to the door and passed into the night. She felt utterly exhausted. What ought she to do? Should she, could she, tell or telephone anyone? It would mean more and more questioning. She could not face it. Not yet. She must try to sleep.

NEITHER Ruth nor Roger was addicted to the vice of unnecessary early rising. They liked the infant Penny to be brought to them before they got up in the morning. They played with her and her toys and heard the eight o'clock news on the radio. They tried to judge the effect on her of the various brands of music the B.B.C. put over, but were as yet unable to decide as to her preferences. Thus it happened that they had only started their breakfast when Chief Inspector Grimsby got through on the 'phone.

"Rather startling news," he said. "I thought I would let you know."

"The lipstick been analysed?" Roger asked.

"Not yet. The doctor was away yesterday but I can tell you there is enough on the mouth to make a test possible. We may, however, not need it. Things have taken a new turn. We have found Garnet Michelmore."

"Is he home?"

"He never will be. He is dead."

"Dead? How did he die?"

"Suicide. Not a doubt of it. And in my opinion that clears up the other matter too. He poisoned Adelaide and was then overcome with remorse and took his own life. Such things have happened before. It accounts for the queer way he talked when I was interrogating him. The soul that sinneth shall die, that sort of thing. Being a parson it got him down. I daresay my questions made him think a bit too."

Grimsby spoke with some complacency. He had reached a conclusion that satisfied him. Roger was deeply shocked. He had quite a liking for the young curate and was far from thinking the matter could be as simple as the detective supposed.

"Why do you think he poisoned Adelaide?" he asked.

"For the money, of course. His share would be about twenty thousand, wouldn't it? Parsons are pretty much as other men when it comes to handling the cash."

"Yet you say he killed himself immediately after, before he touched a penny."

"Remorse. He was crackers."

"Doesn't sound very convincing," Roger said. "Can you give me any details?"

"He drowned himself. There is a deep pond halfway between here and Torbury. Fender's Pool they call it. A bit off the ordinary track. Early this morning one of our men passing that way saw a bicycle leaning against a hedge, near the water. He examined the bicycle and found it belonged to the Reverend. We had a description of it. He also noticed footmarks from the bike to the water's edge."

"One set of footmarks?"

"Only one set of footmarks. Being a sensible fellow he didn't disturb anything but got help. The pond was dragged and the body pulled out. Heavy stones in the pockets to make sure!"

"No head injuries or anything like that?"

"Nothing of the sort. No marks of foul play. Just suicide."

"Any papers on him giving a reason?"

"Not a thing. Nor is there anything in his rooms. We reckon he had been in the water for the best part of forty-eight hours, but that is up to the doctor. No need to worry now about lipsticks!"

Again Grimsby sounded pleased with himself. He was probably not more callous than others of his calling but he would not be sorry to clear things up without outside help.

"I do not agree," Roger said firmly. "It may be suicide. It no doubt is if what you say is correct. He was a neurotic man and had much to upset him. There is no evidence he was a murderer. It will take a lot to convince me of that. You would have to show not only why he did it, but how. Failing the lipstick I see no other explanation. That test is more than ever necessary."

"You shall have your test," Grimsby said, not too graciously. "But it is more important to know who did it than how. I reckon this is as good as a confession."

"Knowing the man and without further evidence I definitely disagree," Roger replied.

They rang off. Having heard part of the conversation Ruth wanted to know the rest. He told her. She, too, was shocked and distressed.

"What a series of tragedies," she said. "First Mr. Michelmore, then Adelaide and now Garnet. I can believe Garnet killed himself but not that he killed anyone else."

"I feel that way too," Roger said. "What ought we to do about it? I suppose the body has been taken to the mortuary. I wonder if the family have been informed. I expect they have, as Grimsby said there had been a search in his rooms and no papers were found that threw any light on the matter."

"Poor little Pearl!" Ruth murmured.

"Yes. I am sorriest for her. It is difficult to see how we can help but I think we should go in and offer."

Ruth agreed, but before they could do anything they saw Pearl enter their garden and come to the front door. They both went to meet her. She was looking woefully pale and unhappy. She had slept little that night and the morning had brought tidings of the new tragedy. Ruth held out her arms to her.

"You have heard?" Pearl faltered.

"We have," Ruth said, as she kissed her. "We are so very sorry for you. Is there anything we can possibly do? Would you care to stay with us here for a little while?"

The girl did not answer her.

"I have a letter from Garnie," she said to Roger, finding it difficult to control her sobs. "He asks me to show it to you."

She produced a letter bearing a Norwich postmark and handed it to him.

"Does Inspector Grimsby know of it?" he enquired as he took it.

"No. He had gone before the postman came and Garnie does not say anything about letting him see it."

"Let us go in," Ruth said. "I do not believe you have had any breakfast. Some hot coffee will do you good."

They went back to the breakfast table. Pearl would not eat anything but she did drink some of the fragrant coffee. Roger opened and read the letter. It was dated two days before.

'You will probably know what has happened to me before you get this,'
it began abruptly
. 'I am sending it a friend to post to delay it for a day or two. I write it to you, little sister, as I think you are the only one who will understand. You knew my hopes and ambitions, though ambitions is perhaps the wrong word as I sought to attain them in all humility. I thought I was chosen to be God's instrument, to do good work for Him. But I was wrong and I cannot go on. It would be impossible for me to tell, others how to live when I am a thing of evil myself. In sin did my mother conceive me. Can I preach to others when I myself should be a castaway? The wages of sin is death. How true that is! First our father, then Adelaide. When lust hath conceived it bringeth forth sin and sin when it is finished bringeth forth death. These are the words of Holy Scripture and we are told the iniquity of the fathers may be visited upon the children.

'At first I thought I might continue my work, but how could such a one as I teach morality and godliness to others? The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear? It is better that I should see my Maker face to face and He in His mercy may set me a task not beyond my strength, perhaps in some other happier world.

'Do not think I blame others, but there is a curse on me. I am sorry to add to your sorrow, little Pearl. My last words shall be a prayer for your happiness. Show this to Major Bennion and if you think well tell him all our story. He may understand. I have written to Mr. Watson with my Will. Half of what I possess or shall possess I leave to the Church where I worked, that someone else may perhaps reap where I tried to sow. The other half I give to you.

'Your loving brother,

'G.'

Roger read the strange letter through twice. Was it the raving of a madman? Hardly that. It was the coherent writing of a man obsessed with a wrong idea. An apt pupil of the Bible could give text for text to show how wrong he was. Garnet had seen things only from a distorted angle. The balance of his mind was upset, there was no doubt of that.

"You have read this?" he asked Pearl.

"Yes," she said.

"Do you understand it?"

"I think I do," and the tears again began to flow.

"He says you may tell me all the story." Roger spoke very gently. "Perhaps you would rather leave it to some other time. We know how distressed he was when he knew your father and Adelaide were not married, and then there was the shock of her death. He was a man unusually sensitive and the strain of it was too much for him. It calls for our deepest sympathy, both for him and for you. That sympathy you have."

"But, but it was not that," she whispered.

Roger did not reply. If she had more to tell it must come from her voluntarily. Ruth thought the same.

"Tell us later, dear," she said, "when you are feeling better."

"I, I must tell you now, because there is something, something I want to ask you."

Neither of them replied. In a few moments there came the secret she had hoped to keep, the secret which had weighed so heavily on her brother and which, in part at least, explained his letter. But first Ruth said: "Would you rather I went away and you told Roger?"

"No, please stay. It is the same if I tell you both."

"Not entirely. We do not always tell one another everything, do we, Roger?"

"Not where other people may be concerned," he said.

"It, it is just this. Daddy and Mummy were never married either. That is what Garnet means."

The words were only just audible. For some moments no one spoke. It seemed hardly credible, yet she would not have said it unless convinced of its truth.

Then Roger asked: "How long have you known this, about your father and mother?"

"Only a few days. When Jasper told us about Daddy and Adelaide we said some unkind things to her. Garnie said he could not live in, in a house of sin. She was very angry and told us we were worse than she as we were, were illegitimate. Daddy had told her so."

"Do you believe it?"

Pearl nodded. "We knew nothing about their marriage. We never thought about it. We supposed they were like everyone else. But that was why Jasper went to London, to search the records. There was no record of a marriage but he did find something else. She had assumed his name. Daddy had settled money on each of us to make us safe. Adelaide told me afterwards he did not marry because his sister had, and it broke her heart. But Daddy was good; Mummy was almost perfect. Which is more important, love and loyalty or a church service?"

"The church service is the best way we know to ensure love and loyalty," Ruth said softly.

"But is Garnie right? Is there a curse on the children if, if their parents are not married? Is it wrong to live together in love and unity without marriage, but right to marry and change husband and wives every few years as some people do?"

She was speaking more easily now that her secret was told and she could reveal her heart-searchings. Ruth glanced meaningly at Roger. She was thinking of what Adelaide had told her of Pearl's own problem: of her two suitors, one of whom was married. Roger understood; he had not been entirely unobservant.

"Those are not easy questions to answer," he said. "Marriage is ordained both by the law of God and man. But I think you are chiefly concerned with Garnet's idea of a curse on the children of unmarried parents. Are they more likely to go astray than others?"

Pearl nodded. "Would it matter if they did? Might it not be expected of them?"

"A lot would depend on how they had been brought up, and how and when they knew the truth. A psychiatrist might give a better answer than I can. I believe it was your mother's wish that Garnet should go into the Church?"

"Yes, she wished it very much."

"We do not know a lot about pre-natal influences, but I can imagine that a woman like your mother would grieve, perhaps secretly, that her baby should be born out of wedlock. That grieving might have an influence on the child. I imagine her desire that he should go into the Church was in a way an act of expiation on her part. There is little doubt that Garnet was morally more sensitive than most people and that undoubtedly led to his unhappy end."