AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Will she be all right?” Runcorn said at last.
“I don’t know,” Monk admitted.
Runcorn drew in his breath
to say something, then could not make up his mind.
Monk could feel the warmth of his body beside him. In the intermittent light he could see Runcorn’s indecision, his waiting to offer some kind of pity, and all the memories flooding back of envy and distrust, all the petty unkindnesses of the past.
The cab stopped at Ebury Street and they both got out, Monk turning to help Hester. Runcorn paid the cabbie and then went up the front steps. He pulled the doorbell hard, and then again. They stood impatiently for what seemed an age until the butler came.
“Yes sir, madam?” he enquired with just a hint of disapproval for the lateness of the hour.
“Superintendent Runcorn, of the police,” Runcorn said icily. “And Mr. William Monk, and Mrs. Monk.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Pendreigh is not receiving at this hour, sir. If you come to-”
“I’m not asking, I’m telling you,” Runcorn snapped. “Now be so good as to step aside, rather than oblige me to arrest you for obstructing the police in their duty. Do I make myself plain?”
The butler quailed. “Yes sir, if. .” But he was elbowed aside as Runcorn walked in with Monk on his heels.
“Where is Mr. Pendreigh?” Runcorn asked. “Upstairs?”
“Mr. Pendreigh is not well, sir. He was attacked by robbers in the street. If you-”
“Yes or no?” Runcorn snapped.
“Yes sir, but. . Mr. Pendreigh is ill, sir. . I beg you. .”
“Come on!” Runcorn ordered, ignoring the butler and gesturing to Monk as he began to climb the stairs, again two at a time. They met a startled maid at the head of the flight, carrying a pile of towels. “Mr. Pendreigh’s room?” Runcorn asked. “Is he in there? Answer me, girl, or I’ll arrest you.”
She yelped and dropped the towels. “Yes. . sir!”
“Well, where is it?”
“There, sir. Second door. . sir!” She put her hands up to her face as if to stop herself from screaming.
Runcorn strode to the door indicated and banged on it once then threw it open. Monk was at his shoulder.
The room was very masculine, all paneled wood and deep colors, but it was extraordinarily beautiful. They barely had time for more than an impression. Fuller Pendreigh was lying on the bed, his face gray and his eyes already sunken. He clutched a folded towel around his throat and neck, but the scarlet blood was seeping through it and the stain was spreading.
Hester moved forward to him and then stopped. She had seen too much death to mistake it easily. He had more stamina than most men to have made it this far. There was nothing she could do for him, even were it in mercy rather than a prolonging of pain.
“She saw you in Swinton Street the night of Elissa’s death, didn’t she?” Monk asked softly. “She didn’t know who you were then, but she recognized you in court, and when you saw her looking at you, you knew it. It was there in her face, and it was only moments before she would tell someone. What were you hoping to do? Make her look like a suicide? Another gambler driven beyond sanity? But she’s not dead. We got to her in time.”
“Why did you kill Elissa, sir?” Runcorn asked in the silence. “She was your own daughter.”
Very slowly, as if he barely had strength to lift it, Pendreigh let go of the towel and put one hand up to his face, trying to waken himself from a nightmare. “For God’s sake, man, I didn’t mean to kill her!” he said in a whisper. “She flew at me, lashing out with her fists, clawing at my face and screaming. I only wanted to fend her off, but she wouldn’t stop.” He struggled for breath. “I didn’t want to strike her. I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her away, but she kept on. She wouldn’t listen.” He stopped, his face filled with horror as if a hell of reliving it over and over again had opened up in front of him, always with the same, terrible inescapable end, worse now because he knew it was coming.
“I stepped back and she lunged forward and slipped. I tried to catch her as her feet went from under her. She turned, and I caught her face in my hands. I couldn’t hold her. I meant to take her weight. . I. . she broke her neck as she went sideways. . ”
Hester wet a corner of the sheet in the pitcher on the table beside the bed and touched Pendreigh’s lips with it.
“Why did she attack you?” Monk asked.
“What?” Pendreigh stared at him.
“Why did she attack you?” Monk repeated. “Why were you there anyway?”
