'He won't, my dear,' Lagrange said gently. 'He has to know, you see. Don't you, Lovejoy? Also, let's all four contemplate the benefits of a duel—no loose ends for a start. Either way, I'll gain by knowing Lovejoy won't one day lose his composure and come to kill me with that rather splendid Samuel Nock he's waving, and should matters inexplicably go right for him he'll have the satisfaction of knowing justice was done. And nobody can be blamed afterward, can they? I'll explain to the police I was made to fight a duel by this maniac here, and alternatively Lovejoy will have the proof of the means of poor Eric's death.'
'Please, Lovejoy!'
'No, Margaret.' That was me speaking, wanting to duel with a monster. I could hardly stand from fear at what I was doing.
'There's no choice,' Lagrange said kindly to her.
'But—'
'No, Muriel.' He pointed to a chair and she crossed meekly to sit down. 'There's absolutely no danger. It will all come right. Now.' He shut the case and carefully lifted it. 'If you will excuse me.'
'Where are you going with that?' I demanded. He looked pained.
'For black powder,' he said. 'I have it in another room. Surely you don't expect me to leave these in your tender care?'
'You might…' I dried, not knowing what he might.
He smiled. 'I'll bring the powder back, dear boy,' he said. 'You can load them any way you like, I promise.'
His bloody certainty dehydrated my tongue and throat. I could feel my forehead dampen with sweat.
The door closed.
'Muriel, you have to stop this.' Margaret shook her shoulder roughly.
'Will he be all right?' was all she could say.
'You stupid woman!' Margaret cried. 'Don't you care that he killed your husband? And Sheila? He's going to do the same to
Even paralytic with fear I felt a twinge of resentment that everybody was speaking of me as if I was an odd chair. I spent the few minutes waiting, while Margaret went on at Muriel and me alternately, trying to think and failing hopelessly. The terrible idea emerged that it would happen too quickly for me to understand. I might— would—never know.
'Everyone all agog?' He came in smiling, as though to one of his little tea parties. 'You'll find everything in order, Lovejoy. Oh, and I thought we shouldn't put too many finger marks on such lovely surfaces. Here's two pair of white gloves.'
'I know.'
'I'm phoning the police.' Margaret rose, but Lagrange stepped between her and the door.
'No, my dear. Lovejoy?'
'Er, no,' I managed to croak.
'Lovejoy!' she pleaded once, but I already had the gloves on. He offered me a piece of green velvet to rest the flinters on as I loaded.
I became engrossed. Their sensual balance, vigorous and gentle, almost brought them to life. Their quality sent tremors up my fingers as I poured black powder from the spring-loaded flask. Tamp down. Then bullet, then wadding. Test the vicious Suffolk flints for secure holding in the screwed jaws of each weapon, flick the steel over the powder-filled pan only after ensuring the touchholes were completely patent. Interestingly, I noticed one had gold stock pins and the other silver. I'd never even heard of that before.
Ready. Lagrange was waiting at the desk. Throughout the loading he had watched intently. I'd been stupid. Only now it dawned on me that I'd fallen for every gambit he'd played. Being so distrustful of him fetching the powder I'd been tricked into loading. Now here I was with the obligation of having to offer both to him for his choice under the rules. No wonder the bastard kept smiling.
'Ready, Lovejoy?' If only he didn't sound so bloody compassionate. I nodded.
'No!'
'Get away with you!' I snarled at Margaret, and offered both weapons to Lagrange after making a clumsy effort to swap them from hand to hand to confuse him.
'Thank you. This one, I think.' He took one and weighted it in his hand. 'The study's not quite sixty feet, Lovejoy, I'm afraid.'
'That's all right.'
All this stuff about ten paces is rubbish. It was usually ten yards each way, carefully measured, making twenty yards in all.
'Where would you like to stand?' he asked pleasantly.
'I want both of us to sit at the desk.'
His eyebrows raised. 'Isn't that a trifle unusual?'
'There are precedents.'
'So there are.' He wasn't disconcerted in the least.
I brought a chair and sat as close as I could, opening my legs wide for balance. He sat opposite.
