The Mystery of the Blue Train - Agatha Christie [68]
“And then?” asked Katherine in a low voice.
“And then,” Derek shrugged his shoulders, “Ruth was murdered—very providentially.”
He laughed, and the sound of his laugh hurt Katherine. She winced.
“Yes,” said Derek, “that wasn’t in very good taste. But it is quite true. Now I am going to tell you something more. From the very first moment I saw you I knew you were the only woman in the world for me. I was—afraid of you. I thought you might bring me bad luck.”
“Bad luck?” said Katherine sharply.
He stared at her. “Why do you repeat it like that? What have you got in your mind?”
“I was thinking of things that people have said to me.”
Derek grinned suddenly. “They will say a lot to you about me, my dear, and most of it will be true. Yes, and worse things too—things that I shall never tell you. I have been a gambler always—and I have taken some long odds. I shan’t confess to you now or at any other time. The past is done with. There is one thing I do wish you to believe. I swear to you solemnly that I did not kill my wife.”
He said the words earnestly enough, yet there was somehow a theatrical touch about them. He met her troubled gaze and went on:
“I know. I lied the other day. It was my wife’s compartment I went into.”
“Ah,” said Katherine.
“It’s difficult to explain just why I went in, but I’ll try. I did it on an impulse. You see, I was more or less spying on my wife. I kept out of sight on the train. Mirelle had told me that my wife was meeting the Comte de la Roche in Paris. Well, as far as I had seen, that was not so. I felt ashamed, and I thought suddenly that it would be a good thing to have it out with her once and for all, so I pushed open the door and went in.”
He paused.
“Yes,” said Katherine gently.
“Ruth was lying on the bunk asleep—her face was turned away from me—I could only see the back of her head. I could have woken her up, of course. But suddenly I felt a reaction. What, after all, was there to say that we hadn’t both of us said a hundred times before? She looked so peaceful lying there. I left the compartment as quietly as I could.”
“Why lie about it to the police?” asked Katherine.
“Because I’m not a complete fool. I’ve realized from the beginning that, from the point of view of motive, I’m the ideal murderer. If I once admitted that I had been in her compartment just before she was murdered, I’d do for myself once and for all.”
“I see.”
Did she see? She could not have told herself. She was feeling the magnetic attraction of Derek’s personality, but there was something in her that resisted, that held back. . . .
“Katherine—”
“I—”
“You know that I care for you. Do—do you care for me?”
“I—I don’t know.”
Weakness there. Either she knew or she did not know. If—if only—
She cast a look round desperately as though seeking something that would help her. A soft colour rose in her cheeks as a tall fair man with a limp came hurrying along the path towards them—Major Knighton.
There was relief and an unexpected warmth in her voice as she greeted him.
Derek stood up, scowling, his face black as a thundercloud.
“Lady Tamplin having a flutter?” he said easily. “I must join her and give her the benefit of my system.”
He swung round on his heel and left them together. Katherine sat down again. Her heart was beating rapidly and unevenly, but as she sat there, talking commonplaces to the quiet, rather shy man beside her, her self-command came back.
Then she realized with a shock that Knighton also was laying bare his heart, much as Derek had done, but in a very different manner.
He was shy and stammering. The words came haltingly with no eloquence to back them.
“From the first moment I saw you—I—I ought not to have spoken so soon—but Mr. Van Aldin may leave here any day, and I might not have another chance. I know you can’t care for me so soon—that is impossible. I daresay it is presumption anyway on my part. I have private means, but not very much—no, please don’t answer now. I know what your answer would be. But in case I went away suddenly