'Miss Alice Andover,' said Ms Lacewing. 'She's the younger sister, remember. She came in here this morning to talk to me. She was a little agitated but in control. I listened, then I advised her to go to the police. She became very agitated then. Such is the confidence you inspire!'
'While people rush joyfully to their dentists. Go on.'
'I then offered to get the police here. She named you. For some reason, she seems to suspect you may be human.'
'Well, she is seventy,' said Pascoe. 'And what is it that she wants to say to me?'
'It's a confession,' said the woman seriously. 'Be kind to her. Through here, please.'
She led him into the office next door. Alice Andover, wearing an ankle-length black coat and a little lace- trimmed black hat, was sitting by the desk, drinking a cup of tea. As soon as she saw him she began to talk as if fearful that delay might induce some permanent dumbness.
'Inspector,' she said. 'It's so kind of you, I am so sorry, I hope that it has not put you to too much…'
'Alice!' said Ms Lacewing in a commanding voice.
'I'm sorry, my dear. Be forthright, you said. Of course, you're right, I shall be.'
She took a deep breath, leaned forward, fixed her faded blue eyes unblinkingly on Pascoe's nose and said, 'Inspector, I want to confess. Mr Haggard's apartment. I did it. No, that's not really forthright, is it? Let me be plain. It was I, Alice Andover, who last Friday night wrecked Gilbert Haggard's apartment. And I should like to make a statement.'
'I've never really cared for Mr Haggard,' said Alice.
It was the kind of voice and the kind of sentence with which radio plays used to begin – and perhaps still did for all Pascoe knew. He and the old lady were sitting alone. Thelma Lacewing had gone to make another pot of tea at Alice's insistence and to Pascoe's relief. One liberated woman at a time was quite enough.
'I know he was very kind to us,' continued Alice. 'How kind I cannot tell. Annabelle has always taken care of our finances, but from what she has let fall, I gather we were greatly in Mr Haggard's debt. Nevertheless as far as personal relationships go, she had always been much closer to Mr Haggard than I. Just how close I did not realize till recently.'
She pursed her lips disapprovingly and sipped cold tea.
'You know, of course, that Annabelle used to act as a kind of matron when the school was running. I helped also from time to time. There is a door… of course, you have seen it. Mr Haggard put it in. It led directly into his apartment so that children from the school would be less likely to stray into our house. At least that was the reason he gave. But how long this has been going on, I cannot bring myself to think.'
'What?' asked Pascoe.
She ignored him.
'It's an old house, ours. Full of noises. And memories. I'm sorry. When you have as many cats as we have, of course, you get used to noise at night. In any case, since the film shows started, I have tended to turn off my deaf aid at night. But last Friday night, early Saturday morning, I woke up feeling thirsty and when I automatically turned my aid on, I heard footsteps overhead.'
She paused (quite unconsciously, Pascoe guessed) for dramatic effect.
'When I went to my sister's room to tell her there was an intruder in the house, I found her bed empty. It must have been her I'd heard, I decided. Perhaps one of the cats had been shut in upstairs. It sometimes happens. Then they howl and howl till someone lets them out.
'On the other hand, I thought, perhaps there was an intruder and Annabelle too had been disturbed by his footsteps. She's so arrogant in many ways. She would never dream of waking me for help. I don't know if you have an elder sister, Mr Pascoe?'
'No, I haven't,' said Pascoe.
'If you had, I'm sure you'd know what I mean. Well, I returned to my room, took my big pinking scissors from my sewing box just in case it was a burglar, and went up to see. Isn't it odd how strange your own house can become? That staircase. How many times must I have climbed it. But now it seemed so steep, so twisting… And at the top, on the landing, I could see a light. Not an electric light, but flickering. I realized it was coming from the nursery door which was ajar. I tiptoed over the landing, though I needn't have worried for I doubt if I would have been heard.
'And I peered in.'
She paused again, shaking her head slowly as though still disbelieving. Pascoe said nothing. He was now ahead of her and had no way of gauging the effect of such a shock on the woman's sensibility.
'It was hard to grasp what was going on at first. The light was so dim. It was one of those old-fashioned night-lights they used to leave by the beds of children who were afraid of the dark. Annabelle was there. She was wearing our old nurse's uniform. And she had a cane. Mr Haggard was sprawled across the rocking-horse. He had his pyjamas on, with the trousers pulled down so that his buttocks were exposed.'
She stopped. Her face began to crumble slightly. Pascoe wondered if he should call for Ms Lacewing.
'Please, take it easy, Miss Alice,' he said. 'It must have been a great shock.'
'Yes,' she said. 'Yes. It was a very great shock.'
She visibly shook herself now and sat very upright.
'Understand me, Inspector,' she said in a stronger voice. 'I'm old but I am not innocent. I am not a virgin, you know.'
She glared defiantly at him. Pascoe was speechless. Then she laughed.
'There. I've said it. I wouldn't have been able to say a thing like that before I met Thelma. She's a marvellous girl, don't you think?'
'Marvellous,' said Pascoe.
'And yet,' said Alice thoughtfully, 'I rather think she may still be a virgin. Now isn't that odd?'
'Very,' said Pascoe.
'As I was saying,' continued the old woman, 'I have heard of such things. I have always known that Annabelle was, how shall I put it? a rough, hard sort of girl. She should have been a man, really. Our father would have liked it, I think. And as I've told you, I've always found something rather distasteful about Mr Haggard. I cannot understand why they were doing this thing. I abhor pain so much myself, giving or feeling it. But it wasn't that. It was the nursery. That's really all that's left to us of our childhood, those few old things. I often used to go up there and sit there by myself and remember, and wonder how it would have been if I too had had children. There was a boy, but he… well, that was many years ago. So, you see, it was a very special room to me. Now it was spoilt, spoilt for ever. Do you understand that!'
'Yes,' said Pascoe. 'I think I do.'
'I didn't think it out then, not in the sense of proper thought. But I suppose what I felt was that he had spoilt my room, so I would spoil his. I knew what I was doing. I'm not trying to say that my mind went blank or anything like that. No. I went through the door into his kitchen and then through the living-room and down the corridor to his study. And then, well, you saw what I did. I scratched and I tore and where I was strong enough, I broke. I still had my scissors with me…’
'Pinking shears,' said Pascoe suddenly.
'Yes, that's right.'
'God. Of course. Those curved edges. I should have guessed! I'm not much of a Sherlock Holmes!'
'I should hope not,' she answered. 'All those drugs. I broke open his desk, I've seen them do it on television, it's really very easy. And I scattered whatever I found all over the place. Some of the things, such filth, I really did begin to lose control and I don't know what I might not have done if the phone hadn't brought me to my senses.'
'The phone.'
'Yes. Suddenly it rang. I was paralysed. Suppose Mr Haggard heard it and returned. I snatched up the receiver. Luckily I realized it would be fatal to speak. My scissors were in my hand, so I snipped the wire. Just like that. For the first time I felt guilty. Wasn't that odd? I suppose in a way it was public property. The rest of the stuff belonged to Mr Haggard, but not the telephone.'
Pascoe smiled inwardly at the distinction, but he had enough sense to keep the smile inward.
'What happened then, Miss Alice?' he asked.
'I went back to our house as quickly as possible,' she said. 'I was very frightened.'
