The Judas Pair

'You must recognize the truth, love,' I told Muriel gently. 'He's mad, a killer. He tried to kill me with a crossbow, and he burned my cottage down.'

'I knew you'd get out,' he said regretfully. 'There wasn't a trace of you. I had a suspicion you were still around, an odd feeling you were there. Know what I mean?'

'Oh, yes,' I said bitterly. 'I know.'

'Lovejoy,' Muriel said.

'What?'

'He is my husband.'

'Eh?'

'We were married three days ago.' I swallowed but it was too late to change things.

'Don't be tiresome, my dear,' Lagrange said to her. 'You'd all better come into the study. No use standing in the hall.'

I uncovered the Nock and brought both flints to full cock. 'Stay where you are.'

He gave me an amused glance. 'Don't you be tiresome, either,' he said, and walked ahead of us all into the study. That's the trouble with conviction. It can be as crackpot as anything, like the great political capers throughout history, but if it's utterly complete even sane people become meek in its presence. We three followed obediently. He paused at the desk and gestured us to be seated. I remained standing as an act of defiance. The swine actually smiled at that. 'Now, Lovejoy,' he said conversationally. 'What to do about all these goings-on, eh?'

'Police,' I said.

'Rubbish. Act your age.'

'I'm going for them now. And I'd advise Muriel to come with us for her own safety.'

'You're getting more fantastical every minute.' He put his fingertips together, a thin burning little guy intense as hate, certain of success. How the hell had he got Muriel under his thumb?  'I shall simply deny everything. And you, Lovejoy, aren't exactly the most convincing witness, are you?'

'You'll never get away with it.'

He snorted with disgust. 'That the best you can do, Lovejoy —a line from a third-rate play?' He grinned. 'I already have, you see.'

'I… I don't understand.' Child Muriel was at it again.

'I'll explain everything to you later,' he said calmly. 'Well, Lovejoy?'

'Margaret,' I said desperately. 'We're both witnesses. We heard you admit it.'

'Certainly,' he said. 'A man forces himself into my house carrying a loaded gun and accuses me of murders, burnings, robberies I'd never heard of—wouldn't anyone try to humor him into reasonable behavior? Especially as he's known to be… mentally unstable?'

'Lovejoy,' Margaret said gently, 'come on home. He's right.'

'Then I'd better kill you now,' I said.

'Alternatively…' Lagrange said, and pulled out from his desk a case. He placed it on the leather writing surface with pure love shining from his eyes. 'Alternatively, Lovejoy, there's a means here to settle your obsessions once and for all.'

'Is that…?' My voice choked and my chest clanged and clanged.

'Oh.' He feigned surprise. 'Would you care to see them?' He turned the case so the keyhole faced the room and gently opened the lid.

Never in all my life. I mean it, never, never. They lay dark and low, glowing with strength. Their sheer lines were hymnal, the red felt imparting on their solemn shading a ruby quality setting them off to perfection. I practically reeled at the class, the dour elegance of the pair of flintlocks embedded in the shaped recesses. Not an atom of embellishment or decoration marred their design, not a hatch on either butt, yet there was the great maker's name engraved in the flickering luminescence of the casehardened locks. A silver escutcheon plate was set into each stock, but no monogram had been engraved on either. The only jarring feature was the empty recess for the turnkey. Murderer or no murderer, I thought, reverently taking out the missing item from my handkerchief and passing it over. For once he lost his composure.

'Thank you, Lovejoy,' he said, moved. 'Thank you. I'll remember that.'

The set was complete.

'What are you going to do?' Muriel was shaking me.

I emerged irritably from my reverie to hear Lagrange say, 'Do, my dear? Why, we're going to resolve poor Lovejoy's delusions permanently.'

'How?' I asked, knowing already.

'Duel,' he replied. 'We have the perfect means here already to hand. And the motivation.'

'You can't!' It hurt me to hear Muriel's cry for him. 'You might be—'

'Not I,' he said calmly. 'Impossible.'

'Is it really?' my voice asked from a distance away.

'Oh, yes. I'm afraid so.'

'Lovejoy, come away!' Margaret dragged at me, but I couldn't take my eyes off the Judas pair.