“âNo.'
“âDid you know he was coming?'
“âNo. When I entered his room the first evening, it was the most awful shock. But heâ¦was so wonderful. He
â
gave no sign of recognition; but talked quite naturallyâ¦as if
â
as if he'd never met me before. And after a day or two, I thought that he didn't know me. I simply couldn't believe that he could be so easy and natural, if really he did. And I was so very thankful. It hurtâ¦of course: but it was so much better that way.'
“âDid anyone know your story?'
“âNobody here
â
unless it was written down in my secret report.'
“âWho would see that?'
“âOnly the Mother Superior. I was so terribly afraid that she might notice my manner and look it up. I mean, I did my best; but
â
it was so hard to pretend that I wasn't upset.'
“âD'you think she did?'
“âI
â
don't know, Superintendent. She sent for me on the Sunday after he came. When I got the summons, I
â
well, I was terrified. But she didn't mention Jo. She said I was looking pale and asked if I was ailing. And I said no. You need a tonic, she said. Tell Dr Paterson so.'
“âAnd that was all?'
“âYes.'
“âWhether she knew or not, you couldn't be sure.'
“âYes. I
â
I didn't know what to think.'
“âDid Lord St Amant maintain the composure he showed?'
“Her hold on my hand tightened.
“Then
â
“âWas that the torch?' she whispered.
“âNo. I'm watching the terrace. I'll tell you if it's flashed.'
“There was a little silence. Then
â
“âI think he broke down,' I said.
“âYes,' she said. âYou're right. It was on the Monday, when I went to give him his tablets and say goodnight. When I'd put the tablets down, he put out his hand and took mine. And when I saw the look in his eyes, I knew that he'd known all along.'
“âDid you stay with him for a little?'
“âYes. I think my senses left me
â
only for a moment, you know. And then I was down on my knees, with my head on his bed.'
“âDid he speak, Sister Helena?'
“She nodded.
“âWe were both beside ourselves⦠After a little, he asked if I would tell him the date on which I'd
â
I'dâ¦'
“âTaken your final vows.'
“âYes. I told him the date. Then he said very gently,
They pulled a fast one, Romy. My return was in every paper three days before
.'
“There was another silence, which I could not have broken to save my life. For one thing only, I couldn't trust my voice. Mercifully, she went on.
“âI know that I fainted then. When I came to, I was sitting in the chair, and he was kneeling beside me, bathing my temples and face⦠Then he begged me toâ¦break my vows. He said that I had the right, because I'd been tricked. He said that he'd come and fetch me⦠We were to go to Italy, under another nameâ¦and live in some tiny village, all by ourselves⦠And I said that I'd think it overâ¦and tell him on Thursday night⦠I was mad, of course. Butâ¦'
“âThere's a limit to endurance,' I said. âNot to physical endurance, because Death intervenes. But mental agony knows no such relief. And so one has to go on
â
to the breaking-point.'
“I saw her nod.
“Then she continued slowly.
“âSuddenly I thought of my bell. But, mercifully, nobody'd rung. Still, I went away then and left him⦠When I came in the next morning, he was himself again.'
“âAnd that was on Monday night.'
“âYes.'
“âAt eleven, or thereabouts.'
“âYes. I think I must have been with him for half an hour.'
“I held her hand very tight. Then I let it go.
“âThat's the last of my questions,' I said. âBut I'd like to ask you a favour, as we are here alone. I'm in desperate need of guidance. Please will you pray for me?'
“âOh,' she said. âOf what use are my prayers now?'
“âPerhaps I see more clearly than you. They're far more valuable.'
“Her head went down⦠So she sat for a moment. Then she stood up, and I rose.
“âFor what it is worth, I will
â
with all my heart.'
“She turned and passed up the stepsâ¦
“After a moment or two, I made my way through the meadows and over the wall.”
There was a long silence.
At last
â
“Well,” said Falcon, “my case was now complete.
“For some reason or other, the Mother Superior's suspicions were aroused. So she sent for Sister Helena on Sunday. Not satisfied with her demeanour, she went herself to the terrace on Monday night. She was listening outside Number Four, when St Amant broke down. When the scene came to an end, lest she should be discovered, she entered Number Three. And when the coast was clear, she returned to her apartments
â
by the meadows, as she had come. She made up her mind that night to put St Amant to death.
“This was too easy. She still had the deadly poison, which her sister had passed to her just fourteen years before. Paterson's reports had told her that St Amant took his tablets at four a.m. And so, at a quarter to two on that dreadful Wednesday morning, she entered his room, took the japonica tablets and left two tablets of Mafra in their place.
“Motive, opportunity, means
â
all three were evident. Her step had been heard by Sister Josephine; and Dallas had waked to see the light of her torch. And I had found the tablet which she had dropped.
“The only question remaining was how to proceed.”
“The only question,” said Mansel.
“Exactly,” said Falcon. He sighed. “I thought I'd had problems before. But I'd never had one like this. And as if that wasn't enough, the Inquest would be resumed that afternoon. And I had to be there, for Sir William was coming down.”
“Oh, my God,” said Mansel.
“Yes. It was very tryingâ¦
“So much was at stake. First and foremost, justice had to be done. The woman must be arrested and charged with the crime. There, in a way, my responsibility came to an end. But that was all very well. As the AC had said, the scandal would be too awful. That couldn't be helped, and it didn't weigh with me. Mother Superior or mill-hand, she was a murderess. But two things did stand out
â
and the look of them made me blench.
“The first was this. If the woman came to be tried, Sister Helena must be called and she would have to reveal exactly what she had told me upon the terrace steps.
“The second was not so frightening, but it was almost as grave. If the woman pleaded not guilty, I had no doubt at all that she would get off.
“Let me set out my reasons for that belief.
“Sister Josephine would make a bad witness
â
and that is putting it low. What was much worse, hearsay is no evidence. And that would wash out almost all Sir Evelyn had said. He couldn't mention the poison. All he could say in court was that in July 1940 he had taken Madame de Jeige to visit her sister who was at Ne'er-do-well Home. If he could have told the Court what he had told me, his evidence, coupled with that of Sir William, would, I truly believe, have sent the woman down. But he couldn't do that. Repeat what his dead wife had told him? In the absence of the accused? The thing was absurd.
“And so I was faced with a question which, to be perfectly honest, was not for me to decide. The decision should have been taken by someone greater than I. And yet I dared not submit it. For one thing, I hadn't time. On Saturday morning at latest, I had to act. And, for another, no one was as qualified as I was, for I alone had been taken behind the scenes.
“The question was this. In view of the fact that the woman would be acquitted, if she was brought to trial, was it right to expose Sister Helena, who had already endured an agony not of this world, to an even more savage ordeal than those through which she had passed?
“Well, I didn't take long to decide.
“They could draw and quarter me; but, if I could prevent it, her piteous, heart-rending story should never come out.
“The thing was, how to prevent this; because, you see, I'd got to make the arrest. Of that, there was no question at all. I didn't mind being broken for using my discretion and using it wrong: but this was as clear a duty as ever I saw. I couldn't do it on Friday, with the Inquest round my neck. But on Saturday morning at latest
â
I think I've said that already
â
the thing must be done.
“Well, now I was almost sure that, rather than stand her trial, the woman would take her life. And nothing could possibly be better. It was the ideal solution.
But she had got to take it before she was under arrest.
Apart from the fact that I'd given the AC my word, I could never allow her to do it. I simply had not the right. More. I should have to prevent her, if she tried.
“As you may well believe, Friday last was the most distracting day I have ever spent. Could I have had my way, I would have spent the day beneath one of the trees in your meadows, entirely alone. I needed peace and quiet, to hammer this problem out. I mean, it was critical. It demanded the deepest reflection. The course which I had to steer was more than delicate. The slightest mistake would be fatal, and I should be on the rocks. As it was, I had next to no time at all. The Inquest, which didn't matter, had to take pride of place. The Chief Constable, the Coroner, the local police â all had to be seen and talked to. And then Sir William arrived. And then the Inquest itself. And the Press â on the top of it all⦔
“I couldn't have done it,” said I.
Falcon shrugged his shoulders.
“I don't know how I did it â and that's the truth. But I filched twenty minutes here and another ten minutes there. And, after what reflection I could muster, I decided to write the letter of which you know.
You will receive me tomorrow precisely at ten o'clock.
“In view of our pleasant relations, there could, I felt, be no mistaking at all what such wording meant. It was more than peremptory. It was the Law speaking. The mask was off.
“Now I thought it possible that her sister might have given her more than one dose of Mafra, so that not only she, but one of her flock could use it, if occasion arose. Of course, Madame de Jeige might not have had it to give. But she had pressed a dose upon Lady Scrope. And that had been declined. So it did look as though she had two, to give away; for her sister would have been in her mind from the very first. And if the Mother Superior had more than one, it would be easy for her to take her life. And if she meant to do this, she could do it before I came.
“But she didn't. She went one better.
“When I saw her sitting there, for a moment I thought I'd failed. And then I hoped and prayed that the poison was in her mouth. But when she went on talking, I gave up hope. I simply couldn't believe â and I had Sir William behind me â that the poison, if it was there, would not have dissolved. I gave it every chance. And at last it was clear that I could wait no longer⦠And when she put up her hand and I caught her wrist, I really and truly believed that I had played and lost.
“And thenâ¦after allâ¦I won.
“Or did she win? I don't know. Let's say that honours were even.
“The Inquest will be held on Tuesday. I shall be the principal witness. For the look of the thing, I've written her spoken confession down in my book. And I shall read it from that. I have, of course, omitted her reference to her statement. That will be suppressed.
“My letter will take some explaining. That can't be helped. I mean, it was pretty fierce. And why did I write it at all? I'd like to suppress it, too. But I can't do that. For if I do, why had she Mafra in her mouth?”
Mansel lifted his voice.
“I think you can weather that. You were dealing with an arrogant woman, who had to be shown the whip. That will account for the tone. Why did you write it at all? Because the arrest must be made in an active Nursing Home. Not in some house or office or busy street. In a Nursing Home, where people were dying or lying seriously ill. It was of the utmost importance that there should be no disturbance in such a place. Yet, knowing the woman, you thought it more than likely that she would resist arrest. So you wrote in the hope of confining her to her room.”
“That's very good, Colonel Mansel, I'm much obliged. As for the rest, I think it will work out all right. I shall begin with the traditional words, âActing upon information which I had received.' In view of her spoken confession, that covers everything. Sir William will disclose what he said in his private letter â that he had heard that Mafra could be held in the mouth. It's the Coroner's Court, remember; the rules of evidence there are not so strict. Besides, he can always say that he âhad reason to think, though he couldn't be sure'. And now that they know what to look for, I think the analysis will be completed by Monday night. So there will be no adjournment. Paterson will have to be called, but nobody else from the Home. But I shall be able to tell you more tomorrow. In any event, I believe we've cleared the last fence.”
Falcon paused there and knitted his brows.
Then he went slowly on.
“I'm not going to read you her statement. In fact, I've left it in Town. It confirmed in every particular what I had discovered or believed. It added only one thing, of which I ought to have thought.
“Sister Helena's history appeared in her secret report. So did the name of the man with whom she had been in love â The Honourable Joris Eyot. That name went down on a list which the Mother Superior kept â âPatients not to be received'.