when you weren't at home. But his uncle told her Michael had gone with you, so she drove on to Melton Hall. And she must have told her husband why she'd missed you.'
Victoria laughed. 'You are desperate, aren't you?'
'I don't see how else it could have happened.'
It was almost as if Victoria couldn't bear to let Serena take credit for something she hadn't done. 'Jack was in the theater that night. He was with several American naval officers. When I realized that, I hoped he would see me there with Michael. But Michael hadn't come back. He was off somewhere nursing that shoulder of his.'
'But you told him Michael had come to the play with you?'
'Just before the curtain went up, Jack noticed the empty seat beside me and came over to speak to me. He thought I'd come alone, and he made some snide remark about that. It irritated me. And so I lied. I told Jack that I was expecting Michael to join me at any moment, but he was close to discovering the name of Marjorie's lover from someone who knew her secret, and he must have lost track of the time. I said it to annoy Jack, and it did. He went back to his seat, and just as the lights went down, he made some excuse to the Americans and quietly left. He'd mentioned that they were sailing for New York the next day, so they weren't likely to gossip about his absence, were they?'
'You sat there in the theater and let it happen? You must have guessed-just because Michael let you down, you made Jack angry enough to go looking for him? But Jack took you at your word, didn't he? And instead of hunting for Michael, he must have gone directly to Helen Calder's. She was the only 'friend' who was likely to know Marjorie's secrets. And when she came home from her dinner party, he must surely have believed that she'd been out with Michael, telling him everything. Victoria, don't you see that your malicious remarks nearly got Mrs. Calder killed? When Jack came up behind her, she even thought it was Michael, because she was expecting him. Dear God. None of this needed to have happened. None of it.' I felt sick.
'I went to see a play, and I saw it.' She was unrepentant, and I caught a glimpse of that child who had tried to rearrange her family to her liking. 'And you still can't prove which of them killed Marjorie, can you?' There was triumph in her voice.
She was right-she would most certainly lie in the witness box. But I said, 'Surely-you deliberately taunted Jack about something you should have stayed out of. Victoria, if he killed Marjorie and attacked Helen Calder, what's to stop him from killing you after Michael is hanged, just to be sure his last link with your sister is broken? You've put yourself at risk, don't you see? You're wagering your life that Michael is the murderer.'
'Jack told me Michael had killed her-that Michael was in London the night she died.'
'She didn't 'die,' Victoria. She was stabbed, then thrown into the river to drown. That's murder.'
'What if it was? She brought it on herself, didn't she? If you want to know what I think, she wanted a child, she wanted to see me thrown out of this house. They hadn't had any children, she and Meriwether, and it was very likely they wouldn't. I think she looked elsewhere. Even if that affair cost her her marriage. There was always Michael, faithful Michael, in the wings. Or so she must have convinced herself.'
I wanted to tell her about Marjorie at the railway station. About the despair and the desolation. Instead, I asked, 'How did you learn about Marjorie and Jack Melton? Did she tell you?' I couldn't believe Marjorie had, even out of spite.
'I saw them together. Quite by accident. They didn't see me, and I could tell by the way she stood there, hanging on his every word, that they were lovers. So I made it my business to take him away from her-'
She was peering past me, into the milky darkness. 'Who's out there?' she demanded. 'Who did you bring with you?'
'It's only Mr. Hart. Michael's uncle. He very kindly walked me this far because of the mist. He has his torch with him, to guide me back.'
'I don't want him here.'
'I promised-'
'I don't care what you promised. Send him away!'
I turned and called to Mr. Hart. 'It's all right. Will you wait for me near the church? I won't be long.'
'I'm not sure-' he began, unwilling to leave me here in the dark.
But I stopped him before he could say more. 'Truly. It's all right. Please?'
The torch flicked on, and after a moment it moved away, toward the church on the opposite side of the street. I doubted he could see me very well from there, but at least he could hear if I shouted for him.
'You've got your way,' I told Victoria. I should have turned and left then too, but there was more she could tell me, and for Michael's sake I stayed.
'You tried to trick me,' she accused, angry now.
'No such thing. If I'd wanted a witness, I'd have brought him to the door with me. I doubt if he could have heard more than our voices.'
'I tried to warn Meriwether that Marjorie was just like our mother-not to be trusted. And I was right, she had an affair, didn't she? I was proved right.'
'And Jack Melton turned his back on her when she got pregnant,' I retorted, defending Marjorie. 'That was hardly something to be proud of.'
She studied my face. 'You don't understand, do you? I really didn't like my sister. I felt nothing when she died but relief. She was going to win-why should I weep over her? Or that child?'
'But murder-'
'I tell you, it was as if it had happened to a stranger. Someone you read about in a newspaper, cluck your tongue over her death, and then turn the page.'
'Michael told me you believed he knew more about Marjorie's death than he was telling you.'
'Jack said Marjorie had gone to see Michael that night before she was killed. I wanted to know if it was true.' She looked away, and I knew then that she hadn't been sure whether to believe Jack Melton or not.
But in the end, she'd decided to sacrifice Michael Hart because it was her last chance to destroy everything that Marjorie had cared for. Jack Melton meant nothing to her, just a conquest. If Michael had shown any fondness for her, would she have protected him instead and thrown Jack to the wolves?
'Did you really sleep with Jack Melton? Just because Marjorie had?'
'I just let him think I would. He's a very attractive man, and he likes women. I thought, Imagine that! Serena's husband, a philanderer. And I knew it would make Marjorie wretched when he turned to someone else. Why not me? Besides, there's the house in London. Serena is being an idiot about it. She wants it to punish Marjorie. I want it because it was Marjorie's. I thought if it appeared I was going to lose it, I could convince Jack to put in a good word for me. With Michael up for murder, Jack owes me a favor.'
It was amazing to see her vacillate. But at the moment, she needed Jack Melton for reasons of her own. For how long, if he didn't persuade his wife to let the house go to Serena?
'Were you ever in love with Michael Hart?' I asked her.
'I don't know,' she said truthfully, 'whether I wanted him to spite Marjorie or because I loved him. Over the years the two feelings got so entangled I couldn't sort them out any longer. I was always afraid that when he looked at me, he remembered Marjorie. And in the end, I didn't want that.' She moved slightly. 'I'm tired of standing in the doorway, and I'm not about to invite you in. Why don't you leave?'
I thought perhaps I'd touched a nerve. That in spite of her denials, she had cared too much.
And then, as if she'd read my thoughts, Victoria said in a tight voice, 'I couldn't marry him, even if Michael loved me a dozen times over. I can't marry anyone. My father saw to that in his will. So Michael might as well hang and be done with it. Marjorie would hate that just as much. The sad thing is, she isn't here to see it. But if there's an afterlife, she'll find out.' She looked toward the church. 'I don't see the torch. Mr. Hart hasn't come sneaking back up here, has he? I will deny everything, you know. If you try to use me to free Michael, I'll tell the world that you were so besotted with him, that you were willing to perjure yourself to save him. So don't bother to try.'
'I could make a very good case for you as the murderer,' I countered. 'In fact, I already have, to Michael's barrister.'
She stared at me, then said contemptuously, 'I'm sure you could try. But who would believe you? Helen Calder can't remember who stabbed her. I called on her in hospital, to see.' She held out her hands. 'Do these look like they could drive a knife into someone's chest? Look at them.' She drew her hands back, clenching them into fists.
We were standing full in the light pouring out of the open door. I thought I was safe as long as that was so.
