Contents (33)
- Collected Stories
- Ruth Rendell
- Acknowledgement
- The Fallen Curtain
- The Fallen Curtain
- People Don’t Do Such Things
- A Bad Heart
- You Can’t Be Too Careful
- The Double
- The Venus Fly Trap
- The Clinging Woman
- The Vinegar Mother
- The Fall of a Coin
- Almost Human
- Divided We Stand
- Means of Evil
- Means of Evil
- Old Wives’ Tales
- Ginger and the Kingsmarkham Chalk Circle
- Achilles Heel
- When the Wedding Was Over
- The Fever Tree
- The Fever Tree
- The Dreadful Day of Judgement
- A Glowing Future
- An Outside Interest
- A Case of Coincidence
- Thornapple
- May and June
- A Needle for the Devil
- Front Seat
- Paintbox Place
- The Wrong Category
‘And then you came. I said Matthew was in the bedroom and just then Julie’s baby started crying and you thought it was Matthew. I couldn’t help laughing, though I felt I was going to pieces, I was being torn apart. And that’s all, that’s everything, and now you can charge me with whatever it is I’ve done.’
‘But you’ve forgotten something, Leilie.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said.
‘Of course you do. Why d’you think I had Paddy and Tony and Johnny Farrow arrested even though Pip Monkton had given them all a cast-iron alibi? How do you think I know Pip will break down and tell me that tale of his was all moonshine and tell me as well just where the contents of that safe are now? I had a little talk with the management of the Andromeda this afternoon, Leilie.’
She gave him a stony stare.
‘You’ve got the sack, haven’t you?’ he said. ‘Work out your notice till the end of next week or go now. They were bound to catch you out.
‘If you know all about it, Mr Wexford, why ask?’
‘Because I want you to say yes.’
She whispered something to the baby, but the baby had fallen asleep.
‘If you won’t tell me, I shall tell you,’ said Wexford, ‘and if I get it wrong you can stop me. I’m going to tell you about those second thoughts you had, Leilie. You went off to work like you said but you weren’t easy in your mind. You kept thinking about that baby, that other baby, that good baby that never cried in the evenings. But maybe the reason she didn’t cry was that she was usually in her own bed, safe and secure in her own home with her own mother, maybe it’d be different if she woke up to find herself in a strange place. So you started worrying. You ran around that glorified ladies’ loo where you work, wiping the basins and filling the towel machines and taking your ten pence tips, but you were going off your head with worry about that other baby. You kept thinking of her crying and what that animal Paddy Jasper might do to her if she cried, punch her with his great fists perhaps or bash her head against the wall. And then you knew you hadn’t done anything so clever after all in swapping Matthew for her, because you’re a kind loving woman at heart, Leilie, though you’re a fool, and you were as worried about her as you’d have been about him.’
‘And you’re a devil,’ whispered Leilie, staring at him as if he had supernatural powers. ‘How d’you know what I thought?’
‘I just know,’ said Wexford. ‘I know what you thought and I know what you did. When it got to half-past nine you couldn’t stand it any longer. You put on your coat and ran out to catch the nine-thirty-five bus and you were home, walking up those stairs, by five to ten. There were lights on in the flat. You let yourself in and went straight into the bedroom, and Karen was in there, safe and sound and fast asleep.’