The Secret Woman (37 page)

So I rid us of Beddoes and got you into the Castle. Anna, I
am
fond of you. I intended no harm to come to you. I saved you before, didn't I? And I was determined to save you whatever happened. But I needed you, Anna. Your friendship, I wanted that, yes…but you were part of my plan.

Now this is where I have to tell you something which will hurt you. It hurts me too. I thought I was hard and strong. And you are what shall I say…conventional. Right is right and wrong is wrong, black is black and white white. That is your creed. You won't understand this and like a fool I'm putting off telling you till the last minute, although I know there is not much time.

I have to tell you why Valerie Stretton was being blackmailed. She was not the only one. Rex was being blackmailed too. Rex is not exactly an honest man, but he hasn't got the criminal instincts. He's too frightened. So far and no farther for Rex. I always knew he was weak. Gareth Glenning was blackmailing Rex. That was why the Glennings were taking the trip. They wanted to keep Rex under supervision. They weren't going to lose sight of him. He was their chief source of income.

And Valerie Stretton's secret? It is this: Her son was a few days old when Lady Crediton's was born. Lady Crediton was very ill, so that she knew there was a very good chance of her plan working. Valerie wanted
her
son to inherit the Crediton empire. Why not? Sir Edward was his father. It was merely a matter of marriage lines. Lady C. had them, Valerie hadn't. It was not so difficult. She was in the house. She knew when the nurse was resting, when the baby was asleep in his cot. You can guess what happened. She changed the babies and Rex is her son and Redvers Lady Crediton's. That's how it all started. But she did not get away with it. There was someone in the house who knew the difference between the babies, young as they were. It was the nurse. She knew what Valerie had done.

She hated Lady Crediton; she was fond of Valerie. In fact she may have helped her in the exchange, very probably did. The boys grew up. Valerie couldn't hide her preference for Rex, which was stupid of her because it could have given the game away. It was three weeks or so after the birth before Lady Crediton was able to take much notice and by that time the boys had decided personalities of their own and everyone—except Valerie and the nurse—believed Rex to be the heir.

It's always unwise to share secrets. The only safe secret is the one that is never told. That is why I did not tell you all the truth.

The nurse fell on hard times and asked Valerie to help her; Valerie did and as the years passed the friendship between them was forgotten and every now and then Valerie was asked for money in exchange for keeping the secret. The nurse had married rather late in life a widower with a son. She could not resist telling her husband what she knew; and the husband told his son. That son was Gareth Glenning. He was smart. He saw that there was a better source of income than Valerie—Rex.

When Rex was approached he tackled Valerie who confessed; he was horrified. He cares passionately for the business, Anna. He has worked all his life with one aim in view: to take it over. Redvers was just one of the captains. He would not know how to manage such a business. His job was sailing the seas. Rex could not endure to lose what he had always thought would be his. So he allowed himself to be blackmailed.

Now I come to the hardest part of all. I have put off telling you this because I fear you will change toward me. Why should I care? But I do, Anna. It's strange, but I care very much. You see I'm truly fond of you. I meant what I said when I told you that you were to me as a sister.

It was in a way this secret which brought Rex and me so close together. If I married him it would be my concern as well as his and it was as important to me as to him that this secret should never be known. That was the point, Anna, it must never be known. And how could we make sure that it never would be? It was already in the possession of three people—the nurse, Claire and Gareth Glenning. You see even if they died how could we be sure that they had not passed it on to someone else?

We should never be safe; we should live our lives in a state of uncertainty. Imagine it. At any time someone could appear to tell us that they knew our secret. I have often pointed this out to Rex. He saw my point. You can see that there was only one way by which we could be completely safe. The terms of the will—I had looked them up in Somerset House—were that in the event of the death of the heir and his heirs the estate would pass to that other son of Sir Edward's—believed to be Redvers but in fact Rex. Therefore in actual fact Rex was not the heir but he would be if Redvers and his heirs were dead.

You see, Anna, everything we do has its effect on us. We take some action after a great deal of consideration and when it is done successfully we repeat it without the same qualms; and in time it becomes a commonplace. When Lady Henrock died she left me two hundred pounds; she was in pain; she could not recover; it seemed a kindness to help her to oblivion. That's what I told myself. Your Aunt Charlotte would never have recovered. She would have grown more and more impossible; your life would have been a misery, and I knew that she had left me a little money. She told me so. I have a way of worming these secrets out of people. I didn't realize there would be all the fuss. But I did save you, didn't I? Believe me I should never have allowed you to have been found guilty of murder.

And then of course, the voyage. I had talked of our affairs with Rex. We had discussed them from every angle. I made him see that there was only one way in which we could be safe to enjoy our inheritance, safe forever. And that was if Redvers were removed. But of course there was Edward. Rex is weak, and I am glad he was. I was fond of Edward. Rex bungled that business on the boat. I always said that a ship should be the easiest place in which to get rid of an unwanted child. I drugged his milk. Rex carried him out of the cabin. He was in his burnoose so wouldn't have been recognized. Johnny spoiled that. But I don't believe Rex would ever have done it even if Johnny hadn't appeared. He seized the opportunity of Johnny's appearance and I know that he was pleased that Edward was safe. It's harder to kill a child than disgruntled old women. So Edward lived; but I knew we could not ignore him forever. He was not so important yet though, because even if the secret were discovered he would be unable to take his place as heir for years and Rex would be in charge. There would be time then to arrange something. But Redvers was our immediate concern.

Redvers had to die. How? How could a strong man suddenly be seized with illness? That was impossible. He couldn't suddenly die of disease. But I always adjusted my plans to the circumstances: A man with a hysterical jealous wife; another woman with whom he was in love and who loved him; and the wife was insanely jealous. I'm sorry Anna, but he was no good to you. I intended to look after you. You would have forgotten him quickly. I was going to have you at the Castle, my sister, my cherished sister. I would have found a husband for you; you would have had a happy life. That was what I intended. But Redvers had to die. And I had made up my mind that there would have to be a murderess.

She will not live long. She could die next week…in two years' time perhaps. I don't think from the state of her lungs alone she can live another five years. Her asthmatical attacks are as frequent as ever; they are aggravating the lung condition. I knew that this voyage could not do her any lasting good. So, why should she not take this role? There would be compassion for her, particularly in Coralle…the sick and jealous wife. They wouldn't have been hard on her. And you, Anna, you would be involved in scandal again, but I would be there to protect you. I would have power and position, which I longed for, and I would care for you. And although you would be pointed to as the Other Woman, just as you were as the Niece with a Motive—you see that passes. It is a necessary inconvenience in which I had to involve you then, as now.

But I am fond of you, Anna. It is something I never thought possible, so perhaps there are yet more secret recesses of my mind which I don't understand myself.

So I decided that when Redvers came home he was going to die.

And that is what I intended tonight. I had worked on Monique. I had deliberately roused her jealousy, oh very subtly. I had seen how useful Suka could be. It was going to be easy. His jealous wife was going to murder the erring husband and that murder was going to take place either tonight or tomorrow night, when the Captain was in this house. I was waiting my opportunity. I knew it would come because she loved to make coffee. She was proud of it because it was her only domestic virtue. I had told her that she made it better than anyone else in the house. I only had to wait for the moment. Tonight he had been talking to you in the garden. Suka knew it and she had told Monique, who made coffee for him in her own room where she had a spirit lamp. She made it and I put something in his coffee, Anna. I shall not tell you what. It was something that would act quickly. Something which was comparatively—but not quite—tasteless. He was excited. He was thinking of you. I didn't think he would notice that slight acrid taste. When she had made the coffee I said that I thought her blue negligee was more becoming than her red, and she acted as I knew she would and went into the adjoining room to change it. I then did what was necessary. I put the deadly drug into the coffee, stirred it well, and when she came back in the blue negligee everything was set.

I went away to wait. I was so excited, so tense. I paced up and down my room waiting.

I have never done anything as big as this. It was very different helping sick old women out of the world. I was not entirely sure what effect a large quantity of the drug would have. I must be ready, prepared to say the right thing, to do the right thing when the time came. I was trembling and apprehensive.

I thought some coffee would steady my nerves. I was going to make some, but as I came out into the corridor I saw Pero; I did not want to risk talking to anyone in my state. I did not want to go to the kitchen. I most dreaded seeing Suka. She has an uncanny way of guessing. No, I could not face that old woman—which I might well do if I went to the kitchen—not when I had just made a murderess of her darling Missy.

So I said to Pero: “Would you make me some coffee and send it up to my room. I am very tired. It has been a busy day.”

She is always eager to please; she said she would; and ten minutes later she came back.

I poured out the coffee; it was very hot but I never cared for hot coffee. I gulped down a cup and poured out another…and then…I began to taste that unusual taste.

I looked at the fresh cup I had poured out. I sniffed it. There would be no odor, but a horrible suspicion had come to me. I told myself I was imagining it. It couldn't be.

But I had to satisfy myself. I found Pero in the kitchen.

I said to her: “You made me some coffee, Pero.”

“Yes, Nurse.” She looked frightened; but then she always looks frightened, always fearful of complaint.

“You made it yourself…?”

“Why, yes, Nurse.”

I felt better. I realized that my skin was cold although I felt as though my body was on fire. I reminded myself that I must be careful. People were going to be talking about coffee a great deal in this house.

“It was not good, Nurse?”

I did not answer.

“Missy Monique made it,” she said.

“What?”

“For the Captain, but he did not drink it. He was called to the ship. So, I heat it up for you.”

I heard myself say: “I see.”

So now you understand. You can see how one must take every possibility into consideration if one is to be certain of success. This house of economy! It was something I had forgotten. You have to think of everything, and the most irrelevant details can prove your downfall.

And here is your letter, Anna. I took it. I was going to use it. I had not yet put it where she could find it. She will never see it now. It would have been useful, you see. It would have been found in her room and would naturally have been part of the motive.

But everything is changed now. The truth will come out. It is better for Rex this way. He could never have gone through with this without me, and now he will stand alone.

“A long farewell to all my greatness.” You see, I quote to the end. Good-bye to you, Anna. Good-bye to Rex.

I dropped the sheets of paper and Redvers's letter to me; I ran to Chantel's room.

She was lying on her bed.

“Chantel,” I cried. “Chantel.”

But she lay still, unheeding. I knew that I was too late, but I knelt by her bed, taking her cold hand and crying:

“Chantel, Chantel: come back to me.”

***

That happened more than two years ago, but the memory of that terrible night will never leave me. I could not believe what she had written. It was only the sight of her lying there dead that brought home the reality to me. Redvers took charge of everything. I think I lived in a bemused state for weeks afterward. I kept going over parts of my life with Chantel. I dreamed of her gay mocking beauty. To me she had been the sister I had always wanted; I suppose I had been that to her. She had had an affection for me; there was softness in her; there was kindness; and yet how could she have planned such diabolical actions? The murderess was the secret woman in her, the woman I should never have believed existed if she herself had not shown her to me.

Events happened fast. A week or so before Chantel's death, that old nurse—Gareth Glenning's stepmother—had died, and when she knew her end was near, she confessed to Lady Crediton what she knew. Chantel had been right when she had said that it would have been impossible to ward off the inevitable discovery by the blackmailers.

Lady Crediton wanted Edward brought back to England without delay and later I took him back to England but not on
Serene
Lady
.