The Nice and the Good (35 page)

“And you—saw him—kill his wife?”

“Yes. It was—” Biranne stared into the empty fireplace. He reached out to touch the mantelpiece with his finger, tracing a pattern in the marble. “I was rather drunk that night. I think we all three were. Claudia was in a funny state of mind. I think in a way she liked to be with both of us together. I think she’d have been pleased if we’d actually fought each other. You see she really did care for her husband, though she’d certainly fallen for me too. We’d had this sort of hysterical trio once before. You’d hardly believe it, but we actually talked the thing over, all three together. It was Radeechy’s oddness that somehow made it possible. He acted a part all the time and I think this was what Claudia wanted to see. She wanted to use me to make Radeechy suffer, and she wanted to see him suffering. He’d walk up and down and shout and wave his arms, and then
fall into a long silence and frown like a Russian actor. I couldn’t take him quite seriously during these sessions, though at the same time he almost frightened me, and this just made me go on baiting him. I wonder if you understand at all?”

“I think so,” said Ducane. “Go on.”

“Well, there’s not much more to tell. The second time we were all together like that, it was well after midnight and we’d been sort of arguing, all of us arguing and drinking and shouting for hours, it was almost as if we sort of understood each other and were enjoying it. Radeechy suddenly seized hold of Claudia by the shoulders. It was a hot night and the window was wide open. He pushed her across the room, shouting at her. Then before I could even get up he’d pushed her out of the window.”

Biranne paused. He was still intently tracing the curling pattern of the marble. “I shall never forget the extraordinary silence and the suddenness of her sheer absence from the room. She didn’t scream, she just vanished out of the window as if she’d simply flown out into the night. We didn’t hear her—reach the ground. We stood there completely paralysed. I think Radeechy was as surprised as I was. I think he really didn’t intend to do it.”

“Was she killed at once?”

“Yes, thank God. I mean, given that she was to die, thank God. We ran down and she was lying on the stone terrace with a broken neck. As you know, Radeechy’s house is fairly isolated and no one else heard or saw anything.”

“What happened then?”

“Radeechy became hysterical. I kept begging him to come inside. It came on to rain. I kept trying to make him come in. I wanted to make him think out what he was going to say to the police, but he just kept on crying. Then he told me to go away. And I decided I’d better go, and went. The next day I read in the paper about the ‘accident’.”

“Did McGrath know anything about this?”

“No, he didn’t know anything, but he guessed something. He was round the place a lot and he’s an observant man. He went to Radeechy and said that I had told him that Radeechy murdered Claudia and what about it. Unfortunately he made the mistake of coming to me at the
same time and saying that Radeechy had told him that I murdered Claudia and what about it.”

“This was when you threatened to kill McGrath?”

“Yes. And I felt murderous enough for it to be plausible. McGrath then tried to make a joke of it, and told me that he’d been threatening Radeechy too. I wrote a note to Radeechy to tell him to pay no attention to McGrath, but I don’t think he would have anyway. He was too far gone in—sorrow.”

“McGrath was already collecting off Radeechy?”

“Yes. McGrath had some pretty splendid photos of Radeechy raising chalices over breasts of naked girls. He got a small regular payment for that and for keeping quiet generally. I don’t think Radeechy minded. There was even a curious sort of friendship between him and McGrath. McGrath was really upset by his death.”

“Did you see Radeechy again?”

“No. Though I wrote him one or two discreet notes, mainly about Judy. I hesitated to talk to him in the office, and I was afraid to go to his house. Radeechy was absurd, but he could be alarming too and by this time I really was afraid of him. I thought for a while that he might kill me. When I came to his room on that last day and saw him holding a revolver I thought he was going to kill me.”

“You mean he summoned you—?”

“To see him die, yes. That was somehow characteristic. He sent me a curious note asking me to come and see him at a certain hour as he needed my help. I knew I had to go, though I was scared. Then when I had got inside the door and closed it he brought out the revolver and shot himself in front of my eyes.”

“God. Then you locked the door and searched him at once.”

“Yes. You’ll think I’m a cold fish. Well, maybe I am. I somehow knew instantly that he must have left a statement accusing me. I thought it would be in his pockets and I lifted him up to search him but it wasn’t there. It was locked into one of the drawers of the desk. I forced the lock with a steel ruler. I was afraid someone would notice the marks, but they evidently never did.”

There was a silence. “Is that all?” said Ducane.

“That’s all. Well, you know the rest. McGrath wrecked things by selling that lunatic story to the papers and starting up all that fuss in the office. Otherwise the thing would have died down completely. Did you ever get to see that story by the way?”

“No, but I got a complete account of it eventually from someone who’d read it. There was nothing fresh in it. It made no mention of you.”

“That was another thing I was afraid of. Do you mind if I pull the curtains back? It seems terribly stifling in here.” Biranne went to the window and pulled back the heavy curtains and opened the sash as far as it would go. There was a murmur of traffic from the Earls Court Road.

After a moment Ducane said, “Why did you keep Radeechy’s confession?”

“Why? It may sound crazy, but I was afraid that if things began to come out I might be accused of having murdered him!”

“Quite, quite.” Ducane shuddered. He said, “And you’ve got Judy.”

Biranne took a number of deep breaths and then pulled the curtains back again. Still breathing with long sighs he came back to stand in the middle of the room facing Ducane. “I’ve got Judy in so far as anyone ever has.”

Ducane was silent, staring at Biranne’s long slightly twisted face. It was immobile, tired, serene, and lit with a faintly self-conscious nobility. Ducane thought, yes, you are a cold fish, you are a total bastard.

“What are you going to do with me?” said Biranne.

Ducane said slowly, beginning to fidget, move his feet about, pour more whisky into the two glasses, “You’ve put me in a difficult position.” He did not want Biranne to start play-acting. Also he was genuinely puzzled and indeed overwhelmed by the story he had just heard and the situation they were both now in.

“Go on.”

“When you came here tonight,” said Ducane, “did you intend to tell me all this?”

“Yes, no. I’m not sure. To be quite frank, I thought you knew a great deal more than you did. I thought you knew pretty well everything. I imagined you might have got it
out of McGrath. I mean that he might have told you what he suspected or even said it to you as true. Or else Judy might have told you something. And of course I was never quite sure that Radeechy hadn’t planted another confession somewhere else. I somehow got it into my head that you knew it all and were playing with me for some reason of your own. I thought this especially after you came to my house, that time you found Judy there. It all began to get terribly on my nerves. I began to have dreams about you. I know it sounds ridiculous. But after a while I began to
want
to tell you. Anyway I wanted to tell somebody. I’ve been having dreams about Radeechy too. I know you think I’ve behaved badly, but I’ve been in pretty fair hell for it. Do you think you can keep this thing quiet, I mean in so far as it concerns me?”

“I’m not sure that I can,” said Ducane. “You witnessed a murder.”

Biranne drew an upright chair forward from the wall and sat down upon it. “I shall think tomorrow that I’ve been a damn fool,” he said. “You haven’t been anything like as clever as I imagined. I came here so sure that you knew the lot and so determined to confess to you, I just didn’t give myself time to make a new plan. I ought to have left after the first half hour. Only I was somehow—fascinated. If I hadn’t told you this you might very well never have found it out at all. Were you really intending to pass on your vague suspicions and your tiny clues to the police? There’s nothing they could have done with them. I could have talked my way out of it. And did you really intend to put the screw on McGrath and risk having your two girl friends in the papers?”

“I don’t know,” said Ducane. “I really don’t know. I hadn’t quite decided what to do. But I would certainly have talked to you before deciding. If you hadn’t come to me I would have come to you.” It was on the tip of his tongue to say, you were right to tell me. But did this make any sense? There was little point in saying it. Ducane was not a judge or a schoolmaster or a priest. What Biranne chiefly felt at the moment was the relief of a particular tension, the end of a speculative anxiety, together with the suspicion that he had committed an enormous blunder. The most merciful
thing, and perhaps the only merciful thing, that Ducane could do for him was to remove, as far as possible, this latter regret. He said, “If you hadn’t told me it would certainly have come out somehow. McGrath would have talked. And given that the thing was still largely a puzzle I could hardly have made a final report on it without mentioning you.”

“Well, now that I’ve told you, are you going to mention me?”

Ducane realised that he was feeling very, very tired indeed. He wanted this interrogation to end. He wanted to be able to think about what he had learnt. He said, “I don’t think that I can conceal a murder. It’s a matter of one’s duty. It’s almost a technical point.”

“Damn your duty,” said Biranne. He got up, swinging the chair away from him in one hand. “Would I be accessory after the fact?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“It would be the end of my career.”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Biranne, I just don’t see how I can protect you. Quite apart from the fact that you saw a murder committed and have been in possession of the murderer’s confession, there’s the completeness of my own case to consider. I said I’d be prepared to conceal anything which was really irrelevant to what I’d been asked to find out. But this isn’t irrelevant. In particular this document, which I’ll keep if you don’t mind, isn’t irrelevant. My brief was to find out why Radeechy killed himself. This piece of paper is the complete answer to that question.”

“Isn’t it enough that
you
know the answer to the question? You can tell the powers that be with a clear conscience that you know there was no security point involved. Of course you won’t get so much kudos—”

“It’s not a matter of kudos,” said Ducane. “It’s a matter of doing one’s job properly. I’m sorry, Biranne, I don’t want to break you, but you must see—”

“Yes, yes, I see. Duty, one’s job. I suppose I ought to be cool about it. Or think I’m being suitably recompensed or something. But I don’t hold any theory of punishment. I’m a good civil servant and I want to go on being one. I don’t want to have to start my life again. In fact I haven’t behaved
all that badly, I’ve just been unlucky. It all seemed pretty innocuous at the start.”

“Scarcely what I’d call innocuous,” said Ducane. “And I think you ought to stop seeing Judy McGrath.”

“Why? Do you want her?”

“Of course not. It’s just that someone in your position—”

“According to you I’m not going to have a position quite soon. And then presumably I can associate with whom I please. However, it’s yours to command. You’re the boss now. You can give me any orders, you can make me any conditions—until you’ve turned me in, that is.”

“Enough, enough, enough,” said Ducane. He felt that he was beginning to be confused. There was no good reason to mention Judy. He said, “Look, you’d better go now. We’re both too tired to think. I promise you I won’t make any move for two or three days, and I won’t make any move without seeing you again. And of course I won’t mention this yet to another soul. I’ll think about it carefully. Now please go.”

Ducane opened the drawing-room door and they both emerged into the hall.

“Did you have a coat?”

“No, it’s a warm night.”

“Well—thank you for coming.”

Biranne laughed shortly. Ducane opened the front door. They both stood still in the doorway.

Ducane felt the need to touch Biranne. He put a hand upon his shoulder for a moment in a gesture which was almost shy. Biranne moved away, and then turning held out his right hand. They shook hands hastily and Biranne disappeared into the street.

Ducane, turning from the closed door with a self-conscious gesture of exhaustion, noticed that he was standing upon a letter which lay on the mat. It must have been delivered by hand sometime since Fivey’s return. It was from McGrath.

With a feeling of deep gloom Ducane carried it into the drawing room. The room was still tense and sinister. He tore open McGrath’s letter destroying the envelope with angry fingers. The missive read as follows:

Dear Sir,

as you will no doubt have ascertained by this time I have sent off one of the articles in question to the person concerned. I still have the other one and will not send it off, subject to our arrangement, as I am sure you will agree, the figures being the same, or perhaps we could talk it over. I will take the liberty of telephone you tomorrow morning.

Which has he sent? thought Ducane. Kate was still away. Jessica had not replied to his postcard. It makes no difference, he thought. He will be sending the other one in the next few days. He hesitated, and then tore up McGrath’s letter. There was no point trying to build up a case against the man, and they both knew it. He could not possibly risk exposing Jessica and Kate. The only person exposed must be himself.

Radeechy’s confession still lay upon the side table. Ducane put it into his desk and locked it in without glancing at it again. His thought shied away from the image of Radeechy writing it, Radeechy full of murderous self-destructive hate. Ducane knew that he had not the present resources to pity Radeechy and there was no point in thinking about him. I feel sick, sick, he said to himself. He turned out the drawing-room lights and began to mount the stairs.