days, looking up old landmarks. My mother's family came from this part of the world and I thought I might buy a little house.'
He shook his head, smiling. 'The last two hours –more like three, I should think – I've been hopelessly lost. Driving round all the twisting lanes in South Wales , and ending up in a ditch! Thick fog everywhere. I found a gate, groped my way to this house, hoping to get hold of a telephone or perhaps, if I was lucky, get put up for the night. I tried the handle of the french window there, found it wasn't locked, so I walked in. Whereupon I find –' He gestured towards the wheelchair, indicating the body slumped in it.
Laura Warwick looked up at him, her eyes expressionless. 'You knocked on the window first – several times,' she murmured.
'Yes, I did. Nobody answered.'
Laura caught her breath. 'No, I didn't answer.' Her voice was now almost a whisper.
Starkwedder looked at her, as though trying to make her out. He took a step towards the body in the wheelchair, then turned back to the woman on the sofa. To encourage her into speaking again, he repeated, 'As I say, I tried the handle, the window wasn't locked, so I came in.'
Laura stared down into her brandy glass. She spoke as though she were quoting.' 'The door opens and the unexpected guest comes in.'' She shivered slightly. 'That saying always frightened me when I was a child. 'The unexpected guest'.' Throwing her head back she stared up at her unexpected visitor and exclaimed with sudden intensity, 'Oh, why don't you ring up the police and get it over?'
Starkwedder walked over to the body in the chair. 'Not yet,' he said. 'In a moment, perhaps. Can you tell me why you shot him?'
The note of irony returned to Laura's voice as she answered him. CI can give you some excellent reasons. For one thing, he drank. He drank excessively. For another, he was cruel. Unbearably cruel. I've hated him for years.' Catching the sharp look Starkwedder gave her at this, she continued angrily, 'Oh, what do you expect me to say?'
'You've hated him for years?' Starkwedder murmured as though to himself. He looked thoughtfully at the body. 'But something – something special –happened tonight, didn't it?' he asked.
'You're quite right,' Laura replied emphatically. 'Something special indeed happened tonight. And so – I took the gun off the table from where it was lying beside him, and – and I shot him. It was as simple as that.' She threw an impatient glance at Starkwedder as she continued, 'Oh, what's the good of talking about it? You'll only have to ring up the police in the end. There's no way out.' Her voice dropped as she repeated, 'No way out!'
Starkwedder looked at her from across the room. 'It's not quite as simple as you think,' he observed.
'Why isn't it simple?' asked Laura. Her voice sounded weary.
Approaching her, Starkwedder spoke slowly and deliberately. 'It isn't so easy to do what you're urging me to do,' he said. 'You're a woman. A very attractive woman.'
Laura looked up at him sharply. 'Does that make a difference?' she asked.
Starkwedder's voice sounded almost cheerful as he replied, 'Theoretically, certainly not. But in practical terms, yes.' He took his overcoat over to the recess, put it on the armchair, and returned to stand looking down at the body of Richard Warwick.
'Oh, you're talking about chivalry,' Laura observed listlessly.
'Well, call it curiosity if you prefer,' said Starkwedder. 'I'd like to know what this is all about.'
Laura paused before replying. Then, 'I've told you,' was all she said.
Starkwedder walked slowly around the wheelchair containing the body of Laura's husband, as though fascinated by it. 'You've told me the bare facts, perhaps,' he admitted. 'But nothing more than the bare facts.'
'And I've given you my excellent motive,' Laura replied. 'There's nothing more to tell. In any case, why should you believe what I tell you? I could make up any story I liked. You've only got my word for it that Richard was a cruel beast and that he drank and that he made life miserable for me – and that I hated him.'
'I can accept the last statement without question, I think,' said Starkwedder. 'After all, there's a certain amount of evidence to support it.' Approaching the sofa again, he looked down at Laura. 'All the same, it's a bit drastic, don't you think? You say you've hated him for years. Why didn't you leave him? Surely that would have been much simpler.'
Laura's voice was hesitant as she replied, 'I've – I've no money of my own.'
'My dear girl,' said Starkwedder, 'if you could have proved cruelty and habitual drunkenness and all the rest of it, you could have got a divorce – or separation – and then you'd get alimony or whatever it is they call it.' He paused, waiting for an answer.
Finding it difficult to reply, Laura rose and, keeping her back to him, went across to the table to put her glass down.
'Have you got children?' Starkwedder asked her.
'No – no, thank God,' Laura replied.
'Well, then, why didn't you leave him?'
Confused, Laura turned to face her questioner. 'Well –' she said finally, 'well – you see – now I shall inherit all his money.'
'Oh, no, you won't,' Starkwedder informed her. 'The law won't allow you to profit as the result of a crime.' Taking a step towards Laura, he asked, 'Or did you think that – ?' He hesitated, and then continued, 'What did you think?'
'I don't know what you mean,' Laura told him.
You're not a stupid woman,' Starkwedder said, looking at her. 'Even if you did inherit his money, it wouldn't be much good to you if you were going to be imprisoned for life.' Settling himself comfortably in the armchair, he added, 'Supposing that I hadn't come knocking at the window just now? What were you going to do?'
'Does it matter?'
'Perhaps not – but I'm interested. What was your story going to be, if I hadn't come barging in and caught you here red-handed? Were you going to say it was an accident? Or suicide?'
'I don't know,' Laura exclaimed. She sounded distraught. Crossing to the sofa, she sat facing away from Starkwedder. 'I've no idea,' she added. 'I tell you I – I haven't had time to think.'
'No,' he agreed. 'No, perhaps not – I don't think it was a premeditated affair. I think it was an impulse. In fact, I think it was probably something your husband said. Was that it?'
'It doesn't matter, I tell you,' Laura replied.
'What did he say?' Starkwedder insisted. 'What was it?'
Laura gazed at him steadily. 'That is something I shall never tell anybody,' she exclaimed.
Starkwedder went over to the sofa and stood behind her. 'You'll be asked it in court,' he informed her.
Her expression was grim as she replied, 'I shan't answer. They can't make me answer.'
'But your counsel will have to know,' said Starkwedder. Leaning over the sofa and looking at her earnestly, he continued, 'It might make all the difference.'
Laura turned to face him. 'Oh, don't you see?' she exclaimed. 'Don't you understand? I've no hope. I'm prepared for the worst.'
'What, just because I came in through that window? If I hadn't –'
'But you did!' Laura interrupted him.
'Yes, I did,' he agreed. 'And consequently you're for it. Is that what you think?'
She made no reply. 'Here,' he said as he handed her a cigarette and took one himself. 'Now, let's go back a little. You've hated your husband for a long time, and tonight he said something that just pushed you over the edge. You snatched up the gun that was lying beside –' He stopped suddenly, staring at the gun on the table. 'Why was he sitting here with a gun beside him, anyway? It's hardly usual.'
'Oh, that,' said Laura. 'He used to shoot at cats.'
Starkwedder looked at her, surprised. 'Cats?' he asked.
'Oh, I suppose I shall have to do some explaining,' said Laura resignedly.
CHAPTER THREE
