Evening of the Good Samaritan (65 page)

“I came to New York and sought out Nathan. I could not go to him since he was married to you. I had to bring him to me. And sometimes, I could not believe what I knew. Maybe you can understand that, Martha. One could not believe what one knew about him. It is so?”

Martha did not look up.

“I did not admit to him I knew of his betrayal of me to the Nazis. He told me he had tried to reach our rendezvous—and arrived too late, like all his heroic failures … escaping alone afterwards. I gave him my pity for his failure: it is the easiest emotion to simulate before those who are themselves without it.

“It was interesting to see what Nathan had become in America … I was remembering, you see, what my husband, the Baron, had made of him. And when I saw how distinguished a person he had become in his own right: I told him of my knowledge of his collaboration. It was at this point, I should say, I had hired John Ferrari as my … servant.

“I am not a good person, Martha, in any way. And in your own mind you must not make excuses for me—ever. But I do not think you will be so tempted.

“I wanted only my own kind of vengeance. I opened to Nathan a new door, and proposed that he enter it: It is very easy for someone like me to open doors. It was to a world I mocked, mocking him. But that I did not see at the time. It was only he I wished to watch behaving like a Jew. Who would believe Nathan Reiss was a Zionist? Only those who did not know him. I doubt he could spell the word Israel. No more could I. But who denied him? I ask you: who denied him?”

For the first time Martha spoke: “My son.”

“Your son,” the Baroness repeated. She fell back upon her cushions and was a long moment silent. Footsteps could be heard upon a stair, a bell rang in another part of the house, and the clock on the mantel ticked.

“You are right. If that were not so I should not have had to tell this monstrous tale. There is a blame even beyond my own that I will mention, for if it were not so, what has happened could not have happened. There are people who justify themselves in a cause sufficient to the burden of their conscience, and therefore to them lip service and heart service make very little difference. Only the forms matter, and there was no form ever devised by God or man to which Nathan Reiss could not accommodate himself.

“What else must be told? Before my arrival in this country I had determined that Nathan must be destroyed. I have told you of my procrastinations. But I made my arrangements. I hired a man in my house capable of protecting me—and of killing for me. And yet, I could not say the word … until yesterday. When Nathan began to deride to me the women who had gathered to pay him tribute, it was enough. Fools I do not doubt some of them are. But from Nathan Reiss I could not tolerate any longer such arrogance and cruelty. He brought even a souvenir of the occasion: the small surgical knife. And to Mr. Forester I could only say when he asked me, this afternoon: Oh, yes! I had indeed seen it before.”

The District Attorney got up, and very neatly put his chair back from where he had drawn it round the better to see them.

The Baroness said: “Will you find John, Mr. Forester? I do not think so.”

He stood a moment looking down at her. Then he said coldly: “I don’t think it will be difficult to find a man who enjoyed his work as much as he did.” He turned. “Mrs. Reiss.”

He said only the name, but by the little gesture of his head, both Martha and Covington understood that they were to follow him as he left the room.

The Baroness closed her eyes and did not re-open them until she was alone.

By the activity in the vestibule, the self-assured presence there of several detectives and uniformed police, Covington realized that Madame Schwarzbach had been already under arrest when he and Martha arrived.

T
AD’S ORDEAL WAS OVER.

For Martha a new one began that night: she suffered a nervous collapse and was hospitalized for several months. But by the end of the school year she was able—with Tad and Sylvia—to go abroad again, and in Ireland that summer she began a sure and steady recuperation.

Tad was able to spend a part of the summer with Covington in Holland. He was accepted, starting with the fall term, at London University.

Madame Johanna Schwarzbach died by her own hand and in her own house. In time, John Ferrari was extradited from Venezuela. He is now waiting trial for the murder of Nathan Reiss.

Dorothy Salisbury Davis is a Grand Master of the Mystery Writers of America, and a recipient of lifetime achievement awards from Bouchercon and Malice Domestic. The author of seventeen crime novels, including the Mrs. Norris Series and the Julie Hayes Series; three historical novels; and numerous short stories; she has served as president of the Mystery Writers of America and is a founder of Sisters in Crime.

Born in Chicago in 1916, she grew up on farms in Wisconsin and Illinois and graduated from college into the Great Depression. She found employment as a magic-show promoter, which took her to small towns all over the country, and subsequently worked on the WPA Writers Project in advertising and industrial relations. During World War II, she directed the benefits program of a major meatpacking company for its more than eighty thousand employees in military service. She was married for forty-seven years to the late Harry Davis, an actor, with whom she traveled abroad extensively. She currently lives in Palisades, New York.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1961 by Dorothy Salisbury Davis

Cover design by Tracey Dunham

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