“It is quite true,” she insisted, her voice rasping. “Oscar was not Nadine’s brother. He was her lover.”
* * *
Chapter 14
We were like three figures turned to cold stone. I felt numbed by the impact of Thirza’s words, and I could do nothing but stare at her. Jerome was the first to speak.
“You had better sit down, Aunt Thirza,” he urged, in a voice that sounded calm and controlled. But she gave a little shake of the head and remained standing. I could sense what an effort it was costing her to face us like this.
“All these years I have kept the secret, but now it must be told. No, my wits have not deserted me. I tell you that Oscar was not Nadine’s brother. He is no relation of hers, nor of mine. They became lovers a long time before Nadine met you, Jerome. I believe he is the only man she ever came near to loving—there was something between them that held them bound together, even after her accident had put an end to their physical liaison. It was Nadine who was the dominant one, of course. She ruled Oscar completely, forcing him to sing her tune.” Thirza came forward and touched Jerome’s arm timidly, peering up at him in her shortsighted way. “Do not mourn her, my dear. Believe me, Nadine gave nothing of herself to you, so you have lost nothing. She deserved to die.”
“How can you say that?” I protested. “Whatever Nadine may have been, whatever punishment she may have deserved, nothing can make it right to kill. And it is a hundred times worse that it should have been at the hand of the man she loved.”
“I did not say that Oscar had killed her,” said Thirza. “He has run away, it’s true—and I doubt if you will ever see him again. But he went because he knew that with Nadine’s death the truth would inevitably come out.”
“Then who ... ?” asked Jerome.
“It was I.”
“You?” I could not believe it of this gentle, kindly, timid woman. “Do you mean you actually gave poison to Nadine, Aunt Thirza?”
“Yes, I did. I had to. It was the only way. Nadine could not be allowed to go on living.”
“And was it you on the previous occasion?” I asked faintly.
“No, of course not. I would never have done anything to harm you, Sarah.”
“But it was a mischance that I was involved. The poison was meant for Nadine—just Nadine?”
Thirza shook her head. “No, Sarah, it was meant for you. You were intended to die—that was Nadine’s plan. But thank God, you were strong enough to survive.” She glanced from one to the other of us, pleadingly. “I came here to tell you everything, but now— now my courage is failing me. Jerome, may I have some brandy, please? I need something to give me strength.”
He hesitated for an instant, then nodded and went to the decanter. Thirza walked slowly across to one of the leather armchairs and sank down into it, a pathetic, crumpled figure. She took the brandy from Jerome in both hands and drank greedily until the glass was empty. Then, putting it down on the table beside her, she drew back her shoulders and sat upright.
“I want you—both of you—to know everything from the very beginning. I want to make certain that nothing is left unexplained in your minds.” As Thirza spoke, her voice seemed to grow in strength and sure-ness. But her hands, clasped together on her lap, betrayed her agitation by the nervous twitching of her fingers. “When you first met Nadine at Baden-Baden, Jerome, she told you that we were there so that I could take the cure—”
“Nadine explained to me about that,” I interjected. “She said she did not wish Jerome to know about Oscar’s gambling exploits, so she invented that story...”
I stumbled to a halt, realizing that in truth I knew nothing. If Oscar were not Nadine’s brother, then the entire story she had told me was-meaningless.
“Nadine was my only sister’s child,” I heard Thirza saying. “That much is true. When Esther lay dying, she made me promise to look after her baby daughter. Her husband was the master of a seagoing vessel, a handsome but thoroughly dissolute man, although neither my sister nor I ever guessed he would be so ruthless as to abandon his own child. From the day Esther passed away I neither saw nor heard from him again. Fortunately, my own husband had left me a modest income, so I was able to manage. Until Nadine grew up, that is to say. Then I realized that she was turning out to be just like her wretch of a father. In one way and another Nadine quickly ran through my money, wheedling it out of me and obliging me to keep dipping into my dwindling capital to pay the debts she incurred. After she met Oscar—I never did find out exactly how and where—her extravagance grew even worse.” Thirza let out a deep sigh and I saw her eyes had filled with tears. “I know that it was weak of me, but Nadine was always so much stronger willed than I. She could override every objection I made and sweep me along with her. You see, bad as she might be, Nadine was like the child I’d never had—and so beautiful, I thought of her as my own daughter, .and when it came to the point I could refuse her nothing. There was just something about her.”
“I know what you mean,” Jerome said. “When first I met Nadine I thought I had never before seen anyone so vibrantly alive. She possessed a kind of magic.”
Thirza nodded. “Few men could resist her in those days. But Oscar was the only one who ever meant anything to her. His very weakness was his strength as far as Nadine was concerned. He depended upon her entirely, and that was what Nadine really wanted of a man.”
“But why did she pretend Oscar was her brother?” I asked. “What purpose could it serve?”
“It left her free to marry me,” Jerome said bitterly.
“The pretense began long before she met you, Jerome,” said Thirza. “It was all part of their plan of campaign. When at last my capital had almost gone, Nadine announced that I was not to worry, for she and Oscar would think of something. I soon discovered what she meant by that. The three of us embarked upon a series of swindles—unspeakably sordid swindles which I can hardly bear to remember. My part, you see, was to add the necessary touch of respectability. We traveled all over the Continent, moving from one fashionable resort to another. Baden-Baden was only one of the places where we stayed, and Monte Carlo, as you now know, was another. Nadine and Oscar would carefully mark down their victim—always a rich married man, who was preferably a public figure of some kind, and Nadine would set about bedazzling him. With her fatal charm it was all too easy. Then when the poor man was hopelessly compromised, Oscar would appear on the scene. Sometimes he played the part of Nadine’s husband, sometimes her outraged brother. In either case, the outcome was the same. The victim paid over a substantial sum of money to insure that his misconduct with Nadine would receive no unwelcome publicity.”
Jerome remarked with deep feeling, “These things you have told us do not shock me as they would once have done. I think I could believe anything of Nadine now—however evil. And yet, when I remember her as she was when we first met, it still causes me pain. With me, there was never any question of the kind of blackmail you have described. Nadine behaved with great decorum, and I remember thinking how refreshingly honest it was of her to admit that the three of you were by no means as comfortably off as you would like to be. She even confessed to me that Oscar—her brother Oscar, as she described him—was weak and easily led. She wanted to keep an eye on him, which is why I consented to him living here at Farracombe. And you, Aunt Thirza—-I was always pleased to have you with us.”
She bowed her head.
“Right from the very beginning, I have been dreadfully ashamed. But what could I do? A penniless, middle-aged woman with no skills which would enable me to earn a living. I was afraid, Jerome, afraid to face the poverty which would be mine if I broke with Nadine. So I made excuses to myself, arguing that what she and Oscar were doing was perhaps not so bad as it seemed—these wealthy men could well afford to pay for their indiscretions. When Nadine and Oscar began to realize that the confidence trick could not be repeated indefinitely, she chanced to meet you, Jerome. They then conceived another plan. For Nadine to marry a w
ealthy man like you would permanently solve all our financial problems, if only you could somehow be persuaded to accept Oscar, too.”
“Which I did, only too readily,” admitted Jerome. “I was a foolish, infatuated young man, whose head was easily turned.”
“No, Jerome, you are unjust to yourself. As you said, in those days Nadine had a kind of magic about her. If she so wished, she could make herself irresistible to any man.” Thirza sighed deeply. “When Nadine told me that you had asked her to marry you, I felt almost relieved, in a way. She did not love you, it was true, but how many marriages in society are based upon love? I tried to convince myself that you would have a beautiful wife who would be an asset to you socially. And Nadine would doubtless bear you healthy children, I reasoned—give you a son to carry on your family name.”
“Yet all the time having the man she really loved living under the same roof, posing as her brother.” Immediately, I wanted to take back my impulsive words, but it was too late. I dared not look at Jerome.
“It is so fatally easy to close one’s eyes to things one does not wish to see,” said Thirza, her voice wavering. “In those first few months while we lived in London, and even after we all came to Farracombe, I still viewed the future hopefully. Until I began to see signs of Nadine’s restiveness. Life here was too quiet for her and she craved excitement, danger. She took appalling risks in her assignations with Oscar. They used to ride over separately to that old hunting lodge on the moor, and I had to cover up for them by telling lies about where they had gone.”
Thirza broke off, glancing longingly at her empty glass, but she continued speaking without asking Jerome for more brandy.
“Apart from these secret meetings of theirs which I knew about, there were other things which I only suspected. I deliberately kept my eyes shut—I did not want to know. You see, in spite of Oscar’s devotion to Nadine, he had always had a roving eye. To some extent Nadine encouraged his philandering because it helped to divert attention from their own relationship, and she never had any doubts about losing her dominance over him. But when I perceived that Oscar was becoming attracted to Felicity, right here in the house, I feared the consequences. I knew what Nadine could be like, how ruthless she could be in having her way. But I did not actually know anything, I swear it. I only suspected. This afternoon, however, all my worst fears were confirmed—by Nadine herself. It was your discovery of the pearls, Sarah, which made me realize that I could stand aside no longer. I had to intervene.”
“The pearls?” queried Jerome. “Do you mean the pearl necklet that was stolen from my father? Have you found it, Sarah?”
If only I had told Jerome at once, I thought unhappily, instead of sending for Thirza. Then Nadine would still be alive now, and Thirza would not be burdened with the guilt of killing her.
With a feeling of shame, I explained briefly how I had discovered the pearls hidden in the Long Gallery. Before Jerome could comment, Thirza added, “When Sarah showed them to me, I guessed at once that it was Nadine who had taken them. I went directly to her room and challenged her. She merely laughed at me, and asked what I intended doing about it. She was confident that I would do nothing, because I’d been a weak thing all my life and had never dared to stand up to her.”
“But why should Nadine have taken the pearls?” asked Jerome. “For what possible reason? She always had at her disposal all the money she could need.”
“To incriminate Felicity—as Sarah suggested to me. You see, Nadine wanted everyone to believe that Felicity had eloped with Ned Tassell, so in order to lend weight to that theory she took the necklet and left the key to the jewelry casket in Felicity’s room.”
“I still don’t understand,” said Jerome, frowning.
But I understood! My skin crawled with horror and my limbs felt rigid as I whispered, “Nadine killed my sister—didn’t she, Aunt Thirza? Felicity would never have run off like that without a word to anyone, causing us so much sorrow and anxiety. And the explanation is that she was dead. I think I’ve known this all along in my heart.”
Thirza nodded her head slowly. Then she began to speak: “These last weeks I have been so desperately afraid. I knew better than anybody of what Nadine was capable, and when I saw how determined she was that you should be made to leave Farracombe, Sarah, all the fears I had held at bay these past years came crowding back into my mind. I guessed that you were in danger so long as you remained here and kept asking questions about your sister’s disappearance. I even tried myself to persuade you to go away—it was I who sent you that anonymous warning note. But of course you did not heed it, as I might have known. You are no coward, like me. However, though I dreaded what Nadine might do, I swear I did not suspect she would go so far as to try and kill you.”
“Do you mean—with arsenic?” Jerome asked incredulously. “But Nadine herself was poisoned then.”
“I know, but she took a considerably smaller dose than Sarah—she had sprinkled it over the sugar, you see—and she greatly exaggerated her symptoms. Even so, it was a big risk. But that was typical of Nadine— it was in her nature to take risks. She reveled in danger.”
I was thinking of the story Nadine had spun me that afternoon, a web of lies from beginning to end. Why had she troubled, I wondered, when within-minutes she intended to administer a dose of poison which she believed would kill me? Had it been just to lull me into a false sense of security, so that I should willingly drink tea with her? Or had Nadine taken pleasure from humbling me, making me feel a deep sense of remorse, of guilt, for loving her husband when she herself lay a helpless cripple?
She must, I thought with a shiver, have enjoyed putting on such a performance. I recalled her starting to cry, and how she had asked me to fetch her a handkerchief from a drawer across the room. That was her moment for adding the arsenic to the sugar bowl— while my back was turned. I recalled her smiling as she spooned that poisoned sugar liberally into my cup. And afterward, when we had drunk the tea, she had been the first to collapse. That was pretense, too, affording her the chance to upset the table and all the tea things, and so destroy the evidence.
“Why did Nadine want to kill me?” I asked Thirza. “At that time I had not yet found the pearls. What was she so afraid of?”
“She believed you were a constant threat to her while you remained at Farracombe. She had never wanted you here in the first place, and when you arrived, she found your incredible likeness to Felicity most disturbing. As time went by she saw how determined you were to uncover the truth about your sister’s disappearance.” Thirza hesitated, glanced quickly at Jerome, then back to me. “Besides,” she added in a low whisper, “there was another reason why Nadine wanted to kill you.”
Because I loved Jerome, and he loved me. Although Nadine herself had never loved him, she was so possessive that she could not endure seeing her husband become interested in another woman.
To forestall Jerome asking Thirza to explain what she meant, I said quickly, “But how did Nadine manage it, Aunt Thirza? How did she obtain arsenic?”
“She used Ginny for that—quite unwittingly, of course. One afternoon when she and Ginny were in the orangery, Nadine noticed that one of the gardeners had left a tin of insect killer about. It was on a tray, together with some little potted plants, and Nadine asked Ginny to bring the tray over to her so that she could take a closer look at them. Then, unnoticed by the child, she shook some of the white powder into a twist of paper.”
“Poor Ginny!” I whispered. “She must never get to hear of this, or she will feel herself partly responsible.”
“You are right,” agreed Jerome. “For Ginny’s sake it must remain a mystery how Nadine obtained that arsenic.”
“You can be sure I shall tell no one,” Thirza said. “I wanted both of you to know—then it will be in your hands to decide what is to be done.”
“Did you—did you use the insect killer, too?” I asked her.
“Oh yes. It was the simplest way. I gave it to her in a
glass of wine. Nadine had to die. She was utterly without conscience and had no compunction about killing again. She had to be stopped somehow. It was right and just that I should be the one to do it.”
‘Tell me about Felicity,” I said, after a pause. “Tell me everything you know, Aunt Thirza. I must hear the whole truth.”
“So you shall.” Her voice was strangely calm now, as if all the emotion had been drained out of her. I endeavored to brace myself for what was coming, knowing that it would be a grim and harrowing story. But suddenly a fit of trembling gripped me, and I could not stop. Jerome drew up a chair for me, and I sank into it gratefully.
Thirza said: “Nadine killed your sister through jealousy. You see, Felicity was expecting a baby—you were quite right about that, Sarah. But the father of the child was Oscar.”
“Oscar,” I cried, bewildered. “But I never had the least idea that Felicity cared for him. Why was she so secretive, if it was Oscar? I mean, Felicity could have seen no reason why they shouldn’t marry.”
“It seems that Oscar somehow persuaded her to keep their relationship secret. He knew that Nadine would be furious, and he must have put forward some sort of reason that satisfied Felicity—young girls enjoy having secrets, after all. And so their love affair was carried on right under our noses, without anyone ever suspecting—except me. I had my suspicions, and it made me apprehensive—I was apprehensive about anything that might endanger our precarious position here at Farracombe. And later, when Felicity disappeared so suddenly, I too found it difficult to believe that she had eloped with Ned Tassell.” Thirza gave me a look of agonized apology. “You must think me quite dreadful, Sarah. You must be asking yourself how anyone could keep silent, suspecting the things which I suspected. But at no time did I allow myself to think too clearly. I shut the thoughts away, and made myself pretend it was only my imagination, and that nothing was really wrong.”
“How did Nadine find out about Oscar and Felicity?” asked Jerome.
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