Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [118]
But the dog was distracted by something else now. It swung its head round and stared towards the front door, hackles raised, a low growl in its throat.
‘Too easy?’ Narraway heard his voice rising, the desperation in it palpable. She must hear it too.
She did, and her smile widened. ‘I want to see you hang, see your terror when they put the noose around your neck, see you struggle for breath, gasping, your tongue purple, filling your mouth and poking out. You won’t charm the women then, will you? Do you soil yourself when you hang? Do you lose all control, all dignity?’ She was screeching now, her face twisted with the pain of her own imagination.
‘Actually, the function of the noose and the drop of the trapdoor is to break your neck,’ he replied. ‘You are supposed to die instantly. Does that take the pleasure away for you?’
She stared at him, breathing heavily. The dog now was fully concentrated on the front door, the growl low in its throat, lips curled back off the teeth.
If she realised there was someone at the front – please God in heaven, the police – then she would stop, perhaps even claim he had attacked her. But this was the moment of her private triumph, when she could tell him exactly how she had brought about his ruin.
He made a sudden movement towards her.
The dog swung round, barking again.
Narraway raised the chair, legs towards it, just in case it leaped.
‘Frightened, Victor?’ she said with relish.
‘Why now?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice level. He nearly succeeded, but she must have seen the sheen of sweat on his face. ‘It was McDaid, wasn’t it? He told you something? What? Why does he want all this? He used to be my friend.’
‘You’re pathetic!’ she said, all but choking over her words. ‘He hates you as much as we all do!’
‘What did he tell you?’ he persisted.
‘How you seduced my whore of a mother and then betrayed her. You killed her, and let my father hang for it!’ She was sobbing now.
‘Then why kill poor Cormac?’ he asked. ‘Was he expendable, simply to create a murder for which you could blame me? It had to be you who killed him, you’re the only one the dog wouldn’t bark at, because you feed her when Cormac’s away. She’s used to you in the house. She’d have raised the roof if it had been me.’
‘Very clever,’ she agreed. ‘But by the time you come to trial, no one else will know that. And no one will believe your sister, if that’s who she is, because they’ll all know she would speak for you.’
‘Did you kill Cormac just to get me?’ he asked again.
‘No! I killed him because he didn’t raise a hand to try to save my father! He did nothing! Absolutely nothing!’
‘You were only five or six years old,’ he pointed out.
‘McDaid told me!’ she sobbed.
‘Ah yes, McDaid – the Irish hero who wants to turn all Europe upside down in a revolution to change the social order, sweep away the old and bring in the new. And do you imagine that will bring Ireland freedom? To him you are expendable, Talulla, just as I am, or your parents, or anyone else.’
It was at that point that she let go of the dog’s collar and shrieked at it to attack, just as the police threw open the door to the hall and Narraway raised the chair as the dog leaped and sent him flying, to land hard on his back, all but winding him.
One of the policemen grabbed the animal by its collar, half choking it. The other seized hold of Talulla.
Narraway climbed to his feet, coughing and gasping to get his breath.
‘Thank you,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I hope you have been there rather longer than it would appear.’
‘Long enough,’ the elder of the two responded. ‘But there’ll still be one or two charges for you to answer, like assaulting a policeman while in custody, and escaping custody. If I were you, I’d run like hell, and never come back to Ireland, Mr Narraway.’
‘Very good advice.’ Narraway stood to attention, gave the man a smart salute, then turned and ran, exactly as he had been told.
In the morning there was no alternative for Charlotte but to have a hasty breakfast, then, with Mrs Hogan’s assistance, send