The Nice and the Good

by Iris Murdoch

“I don’t tell lies.”

  “Really?” said Biranne. “Then why did you tell me one just now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said McGrath was not blackmailing you.”

  Ducane looked down into Biranne’s handsome insolent face. Then he turned away and laughed. He began to pace the room.

  “All right. McGrath has tried to blackmail me, and for my own reasons I’ve led him on. How did you know?”

  “He told me. The fellow has an engaging frankness. He tried to blackmail me too. He and Judy work as a team, as you probably realise. She ensnares people in high places with, shall we say, odd tastes, and McGrath follows close behind with his little camera. He really has quite a talent for photography.”

  “I see. He tried it on you. But you wouldn’t play?”

  “I told him that if he tried that game on me I’d kill him, and he believed me.”

  Ducane turned at the end of the room to look at the long relaxed figure in the armchair. He has an answer for everyone and everything, he thought to himself. I could never make a man believe that I would kill him!

  “As I say,” said Ducane, “I had my own reasons for encouraging McGrath.” He was beginning to have an idea, an idea which Biranne himself had put into his head.

  “Very compelling reasons, I daresay. With two charming girls involved. Yes, you are a dark horse.”

  “I see that McGrath’s engaging frankness has known no bounds,” said Ducane. He thought, this fellow knows more about me than I know about him. And I thought of him as my victim, my prisoner!

  “Well, he did tell me something about two letters. He was rather proud of himself. I must say, he’s a most ingenious man.”

  “He seems to be quite a friend of yours,” said Ducane. “It will be interesting when he tells us everything he knows.”

  “He’ll never do that,” said Biranne easily. “No one has got anything on McGrath. No one ever will have.”

  “I have got something on McGrath,” said Ducane.

  Biranne sat forward. “What?”

  “Precisely blackmail,” said Ducane. “Why ever do you think I encouraged him? Those two letters are perfectly innocuous. The two young women express themselves warmly, as many young women do, but neither is my mistress, and there’s no earthly reason against their knowing of each other’s existence. In fact they now do know, since I’ve told them. That was the first thing I did when McGrath made his move. McGrath has no power over me as he has nothing to reveal. Really, Biranne, I’m surprised at you. From what you know of my character do you really think I’d tolerate blackmail? I haven’t anything disgraceful to conceal, and I certainly wouldn’t pay money to an object like McGrath in order to spare myself and two girls a small amount of embarrassment.”

  “You mean you—”

  “Yes. McGrath has no power over me. But I have power over him and I am going to use it. Naturally I am not interested in convicting McGrath, but I am interested in persuading him to talk, and talk he will.”

  “But have you—evidence?” Biranne’s watchfulness had returned and he was plucking again at his knuckles with bared teeth.

  “The man was fool enough to write me a letter. And I have a tape recording. I too have been a little ingenious in this matter.” For a truthful man I’m certainly having a strange evening, thought Ducane. He had come near to Biranne now and was watching him closely. Biranne was plainly uneasy.

  “So you’re going to put the screw on McGrath?”

  “Yes. He’s told me half the story already. I’ll get the other half next week. Possibly with, possibly without, the help of the police. I have a feeling it will be interesting. And I have a feeling it will concern you.”

  “He won’t tell you anything,” said Biranne. He was looking down at the carpet now.

  “So you don’t deny he has something to tell?”

  “Oh, he has plenty to tell. But not about Radeechy. Of course you can threaten poor McGrath and make him turn King’s evidence. But it won’t help you. He doesn’t know any more about that.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  “Because I think he’d have told me, or at least hinted. Too much has been made of this Radeechy business. I can’t think why you’re all so excited about it. There’s no more in it than meets the eye. Radeechy was a half crazy crank with an interest in the occult and some pretty odd tastes in sex. He’s just the sort of man who kills himself. Why shouldn’t he? Can’t he kill himself quietly without all this to-do?”

  Ducane sat down. He moved the table with the whisky on it a little out of the way and pulled his chair forward. He said softly, “Look here, Richard, I know you’ve been lying to me this evening, and I know you’re more involved in all this than you’ve pretended to be, deeply involved, up to the neck. You know why Radeechy committed suicide and before you leave this house you’re going to tell me. You took something off Radeechy’s body and I know what it was that you took. I may not have found out very much about you, but I’ve found out quite enough to get you into trouble if I choose to do so.”

  Biranne, sitting upright now, his hands in golden light, gripping either arm of the chair, the long cylinder of his head averted and shadowed, said, “Sorry, Ducane, I’ve nothing more to say to you except goodnight.” But he did not move.

  Ducane realised that he had used Biranne’s Christian name. With this came at last a sense of having the man cornered. He thought, I’ve got him. He said urgently, leaning forward, “Don’t be a fool. Why did you say I was getting on your nerves? You didn’t just come here to find out what I knew, you came here to tell me things. I’m not bluffing you, Biranne. This damned enquiry is coming to a finale, and you’re in the finale whether you like it or not. The point for you to consider is this. Up to now the thing hasn’t been a police matter. It’s been entirely secret and I have discretion to keep it secret and to hold back completely anything which I find which I think is irrelevant. Well, you know what my briefing was. If you tell me the whole truth I may be able to keep it dark, so far as it concerns you. Obviously I can’t promise this, but I could consider it. If you won’t talk I shall have to hand the whole thing over, suspicions and all, to the police. If you’d rather be interrogated by them than by me, it’s up to you. And don’t expect any loyalty from a man like McGrath.”

  Biranne drew in a very long breath. His head was bowed forward now and Ducane could see one long slit of blue eye. The stiff crest of hair glowed golden in the light of the lamp. Biranne said, half under his breath, “Let me think, let me think.” Then, still not looking up, he said, “If anything I were to tell you was not strictly germane to answering the question: was Radeechy a spy? you would have discretion to withhold it?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I were to tell you precisely why Radeechy died could you report the explanation in general terms without further naming of persons?”

  “I don’t know. Your question is too vague. I can’t promise you silence. For instance if you tell me that you killed Radeechy.”

  “I didn’t kill Radeechy. At least not in any sense that could bring me into a law court. Just wait a minute, will you, wait a minute.”

  Biranne got up. He turned his back on Ducane and looked away into the darkened corner of the room. Ducane ran his hands up over his forehead and found that his hair was limp and damp with perspiration. He kept his eyes and his will intently fixed upon Biranne, focusing upon the nape of his neck, where the wiry fuzz diminished into curly blond fur. Ducane kept silent but filled the silence with will. But he knew now that Biranne wanted to talk and would talk. Perhaps he had intended to do so from the start and had just wanted, needed, to be coerced.

  Biranne turned back, and his face was a good deal calmer. His thin mouth smiled faintly with an air of sardonic resolution. He said, “All right. I trust you as far as you say you can be trusted and I put myself into your power. This document, on which I’d like to make one or two comments after you’ve read it, will tell you everything you w
ant to know.” He held out a piece of folded paper towards Ducane and then once more turned his back.

  Ducane unfolded the paper. He saw at once that it was written in Radeechy’s familiar compressed hand. It read as follows:

  This is to state to the police, the public, and before God if He exists, that in September of last year I murdered my wife Claudia by pushing her out of a window. I acted impetuously and without premeditated intent to kill her. My motive was jealousy of her liaison with Richard Biranne. Biranne witnessed my act and has since attempted to blackmail me. I die now by my own hand. Biranne has my dying curse.

  Joseph Radeechy

  I loved my wife.

  Ducane was so extremely surprised and in an odd way so moved by this document that he simply wanted to crush it against his brow and close his eyes. But he had too an immediate and cautious instinct of himself as an actor, an instinct which took him back to his days in the law courts. To calm himself he got up, went to his desk, took out a magnifying glass, and examined the letter carefully under the lamp. The writing was strong and fluent and certainly Radeechy’s.

  Biranne was still standing with his back turned. Ducane said, “Sit down, please, Biranne.”

  They both sat down, Biranne breathing deeply and stretching himself out as if very tired.

  Ducane said, “Perhaps you could answer a few questions.”

  “Anything you like.”

  “I am prepared to assume that Radeechy wrote this. Is it all true?”

  Biranne sat up again. He said, “It’s true that he killed Claudia and that I saw it happen. It’s also true that he was jealous of me and Claudia. It’s not true that I tried to blackmail him, at least not exactly true.”

  “What do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t come very well out of this.”

  “Never mind how you come out of it. Tell me the truth.”

  “You see, I wanted Judy McGrath.”

  “And since you had this hold over Radeechy—?”

  “I never intended to use the hold, I never even hinted at it. It was a matter of what Radeechy decided to think. I wanted to get Judy away from him, right away, and I must have made this pretty clear, and he chose to imagine he was being threatened.”

  “And you let him imagine?”

  “I suppose so—”

  “And when was this happening?”

  “My take-over bid? Two or three months ago. Not just after—”

  “Quite. And is what is given here in your view the whole explanation of his suicide?”

  “Yes. At least, what is a whole explanation? There’s no other secret, no other particular key. But he was a weird man who lived in a perpetual condition of fear and anxiety. I think he did half believe he was communing with spirits and he was afraid of them.”

  “Did he love his wife?”

  “Yes, I think so. But please believe me that I didn’t realise this at the start.”

  “Did you go to bed with Mrs Radeechy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was she a very unhappy woman?”

  “No, not really, not till the end anyway. I didn’t understand this to begin with either. I took a conventional view of the thing. Claudia looked like a deserted wife. Radeechy had quite a harem of necromantic girl friends, at least he had until Judy turned up and made him sack the rest. I think Radeechy fell properly for Judy—and this did hurt Claudia. She’d tolerated the others, safety in numbers and so on, but this was serious. I think this was what made her ready to flirt with me, and then I just rather took her by storm. It was unexpected. I didn’t do it in cold blood. I was amazed by the degree of Radeechy’s jealousy. I didn’t think he’d care that much.”

  “How did you first meet Claudia, anyway?”

  “Through one of Judy’s predecessors. Claudia came to this girl’s place to see if she could find out something about Judy, that is after she’d started to fret about her. And I, well, happened to be there.”

  “I see. So Radeechy was jealous and he told you to clear out?”

  “Yes. And perhaps I ought to have done. But I somehow felt I had to stand up to him for Claudia’s sake. I liked Claudia, she was somebody. And it was all getting pretty muddled by this time. I told him he didn’t deserve her. And he didn’t. Those other girls, you know, he didn’t fuck them, not even Judy, he didn’t beat them either. He was a weirdie all right.”

  “And you—saw him—kill his wife?”

  “Yes. It was—” Biranne stared into the empty fireplace. He reached out to touch the mantelpiece with his finger, tracing a pattern in the marble. “I was rather drunk that night. I think we all three were. Claudia was in a funny state of mind. I think in a way she liked to be with both of us together. I think she’d have been pleased if we’d actually fought each other. You see she really did care for her husband, though she’d certainly fallen for me too. We’d had this sort of hysterical trio once before. You’d hardly believe it, but we actually talked the thing over, all three together. It was Radeechy’s oddness that somehow made it possible. He acted a part all the time and I think this was what Claudia wanted to see. She wanted to use me to make Radeechy suffer, and she wanted to see him suffering. He’d walk up and down and shout and wave his arms, and then fall into a long silence and frown like a Russian actor. I couldn’t take him quite seriously during these sessions, though at the same time he almost frightened me, and this just made me go on baiting him. I wonder if you understand at all?”

  “I think so,” said Ducane. “Go on.”

  “Well, there’s not much more to tell. The second time we were all together like that, it was well after midnight and we’d been sort of arguing, all of us arguing and drinking and shouting for hours, it was almost as if we sort of understood each other and were enjoying it. Radeechy suddenly seized hold of Claudia by the shoulders. It was a hot night and the window was wide open. He pushed her across the room, shouting at her. Then before I could even get up he’d pushed her out of the window.”

  Biranne paused. He was still intently tracing the curling pattern of the marble. “I shall never forget the extraordinary silence and the suddenness of her sheer absence from the room. She didn’t scream, she just vanished out of the window as if she’d simply flown out into the night. We didn’t hear her—reach the ground. We stood there completely paralysed. I think Radeechy was as surprised as I was. I think he really didn’t intend to do it.”

  “Was she killed at once?”

  “Yes, thank God. I mean, given that she was to die, thank God. We ran down and she was lying on the stone terrace with a broken neck. As you know, Radeechy’s house is fairly isolated and no one else heard or saw anything.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Radeechy became hysterical. I kept begging him to come inside. It came on to rain. I kept trying to make him come in. I wanted to make him think out what he was going to say to the police, but he just kept on crying. Then he told me to go away. And I decided I’d better go, and went. The next day I read in the paper about the ‘accident’.”

  “Did McGrath know anything about this?”

  “No, he didn’t know anything, but he guessed something. He was round the place a lot and he’s an observant man. He went to Radeechy and said that I had told him that Radeechy murdered Claudia and what about it. Unfortunately he made the mistake of coming to me at the same time and saying that Radeechy had told him that I murdered Claudia and what about it.”

  “This was when you threatened to kill McGrath?”

  “Yes. And I felt murderous enough for it to be plausible. McGrath then tried to make a joke of it, and told me that he’d been threatening Radeechy too. I wrote a note to Radeechy to tell him to pay no attention to McGrath, but I don’t think he would have anyway. He was too far gone in—sorrow.”

  “McGrath was already collecting off Radeechy?”

  “Yes. McGrath had some pretty splendid photos of Radeechy raising chalices over breasts of naked girls. He got a sm
all regular payment for that and for keeping quiet generally. I don’t think Radeechy minded. There was even a curious sort of friendship between him and McGrath. McGrath was really upset by his death.”

  “Did you see Radeechy again?”

  “No. Though I wrote him one or two discreet notes, mainly about Judy. I hesitated to talk to him in the office, and I was afraid to go to his house. Radeechy was absurd, but he could be alarming too and by this time I really was afraid of him. I thought for a while that he might kill me. When I came to his room on that last day and saw him holding a revolver I thought he was going to kill me.”

  “You mean he summoned you—?”

  “To see him die, yes. That was somehow characteristic. He sent me a curious note asking me to come and see him at a certain hour as he needed my help. I knew I had to go, though I was scared. Then when I had got inside the door and closed it he brought out the revolver and shot himself in front of my eyes.”

  “God. Then you locked the door and searched him at once.”

  “Yes. You’ll think I’m a cold fish. Well, maybe I am. I somehow knew instantly that he must have left a statement accusing me. I thought it would be in his pockets and I lifted him up to search him but it wasn’t there. It was locked into one of the drawers of the desk. I forced the lock with a steel ruler. I was afraid someone would notice the marks, but they evidently never did.”

  There was a silence. “Is that all?” said Ducane.

  “That’s all. Well, you know the rest. McGrath wrecked things by selling that lunatic story to the papers and starting up all that fuss in the office. Otherwise the thing would have died down completely. Did you ever get to see that story by the way?”

  “No, but I got a complete account of it eventually from someone who’d read it. There was nothing fresh in it. It made no mention of you.”

  “That was another thing I was afraid of. Do you mind if I pull the curtains back? It seems terribly stifling in here.” Biranne went to the window and pulled back the heavy curtains and opened the sash as far as it would go. There was a murmur of traffic from the Earls Court Road.