Spinsters in Jeopardy

“I know it’s against the Rule,” she whispered, “I’ve got to speak to you.”

He made no sign.

“I don’t know what they’ll do to me if they find out but I’m actually past caring!”In the glass he saw her put the candle on the table. “Have you smoked?” she said. “If you have I suppose it’s no good. I haven’t.” He heard her sit heavily in the chair. “Well,” she whispered almost cosily, “it’s about Gi

Alleyn shook his head.

“I thought not. You’ve got to stop her doing it. She’s fond of you, you may depend upon it. If it was not for him she’d be in love, like any other nice girl, with you. And you’re fond of her. I know. I’ve watched. Well, you’ve got to stop it. She’s a thoroughly nice girl,” the prim whisper insisted, “and you’re still a splendid young fellow. Tell her she mustn’t.”

Alleyn’s shoulders rose in an exaggerated shrug.

“Oh, don’t!” The whisper broke into a vocal protest. “If you only knew how I’ve been watching you both. If you only knew what I’m risking. Why, if you tell on me I don’t know what they won’t do. Murder me, as likely as not. It wouldn’t be the first time unless you believe she killed herself, and I certainly don’t.”

The voice stopped. Alleyn waited.

“One way or another,” the voice said quite loudly, “you’ve got to give me a sign.”

He raised his hand and made the Italian negative sign with his finger.

“You won’t! You mean you’ll let it happen. To Gi

The voice said strongly, as if its owner had taken fresh courage: “Very well. I shall speak to her. It won’t do any good. I look at you and I ask myself what sort of creature you are. I look—”

She broke off. She had moved her candle so that its reflexion in the glass was thrown back upon Alleyn. He sat frozen.

“Who are you?” the voice demanded strongly. “You’re not Robin Herrington.”

She was behind him. She jerked the hood back from his head and they stared at each other in the looking-glass.

“And you’re not Grizel Locke,” Alleyn said. He got up, faced her and held out his hand. “Miss P.E. Garbel, I presume,” he said gently.

Chapter XII

Eclipse of the Sun

i

“Then you guessed!” said Miss Garbel, clinging to his hand and shaking it up and down as if it were a sort of talisman. “How did you guess? How did you get here? What’s happening?”

Alleyn said: “We’ve got twenty-five minutes before that damn bell goes. Don’t let’s squander them. I wasn’t sure. Yesterday morning, when you talked like one of your letters, I wondered.”

“I couldn’t let either of you know who I was. Oberon was watching. They all were. I thought the remark about the Douceville bus might catch your attention.”

“I didn’t dare ask outright, of course. Now, tell me. Grizel Locke’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Yes; small hours of yesterday morning. We were told an overdose of self-administered heroin. I think — murdered.”

“Why was she murdered?”

“I think, because she protested about Gi

“Who killed her?”

“I haven’t an idea. Oh, not a notion!”

“What exactly were you told?”

“That if it was found out we’d all be in trouble. That the whole thing would be discovered: the trade in diacetylmorphine, the co

“Who!” Alleyn ejaculated.

“Your wife, you know. She was called Agatha after my second cousin, once—”

“Yes, yes. Sorry. I call her Troy.”

“Really? Quaint! I’ve formed the habit of thinking of her as Cousin Aggie. Well, the plan was that I’d be introduced to you as Grizel Locke and I should tell them afterwards if I recognized you or knew anything about you. They made me wear Grizel’s clothes and paint my face, in case you’d heard about her or would be asked about her afterwards. And then, tomorrow, after the funeral we are meant to meet again and I’m to say I’m leaving for a trip to Budapest. If possible, you are to see me go. So that if a hue-and-cry goes out for Grizel Locke, you will support the story that she’s left for Hungary. I’m to go as far as Marseilles and stay there until you’re both out of the way. The factory has extensive co

“Twenty-one minutes.”

“I’ve time, at least, to tell you quickly that whatever you’re pla

“You mean,” Alleyn said, “you’ve formed the habit—?”

“I’m fifty. Sixteen years ago I was a good analytical chemist but terribly poor. They offered me a job on a wonderful salary. Research. They started me off in New York, and after the war they brought me over here. At first I thought it was all right and then gradually I discovered what was happening. They handled me on orthodox lines. A man, very attractive, and parties. I was always plain and he was experienced and charming. He started me on marihuana — reefers, you know — and I’ve never been able to break off. They see to it I get just enough to keep me going. They get me up here and make me nervous and then give me cigarettes. I’m very useful to them. When I smoke I get very silly. I hear myself saying things that fill me with bitter shame. But when I’ve got the craving to smoke and when he’s given me cigarettes, I — well, you’ve seen. It wasn’t all play-acting when I pretended to be Grizel Locke. We all get like that with Oberon. He has a genius for defilement.”

“Why did you write as you did to Troy? I must tell you that we didn’t realize what you were up to until yesterday.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t. But I daren’t be explicit. Their surveillance is terribly thorough and my letters might have been opened. They weren’t, as turned out, otherwise you would have been recognized as my correspondent. I wrote—”

The voice, half vocal, half whispering, faltered. She pushed back her hood and tilted her tragic-comic face towards Alleyn’s. “I began to write because of the girls like Gi