Third girl - Agatha Christie [91]
‘When that girl came to me she was full of drugs.’
‘And he gave them to her!’ shouted Restarick. ‘That degenerate, miserable boy.’
‘He started her on them, no doubt.’
‘Thank God,’ said Restarick. ‘Thank God for it.’
‘What are you thanking God for?’
‘I misunderstood you. I thought you were going to throw her to the lions when you kept harping on her being sane. I misjudged you. It was the drugs that did it. Drugs that made her do things she would never have done of her own volition, and left her with no knowledge of having done them.’
Stillingfleet raised his voice:
‘If you let me talk instead of talking so much yourself, and being so sure you know all about everything, we might get on a bit. First of all, she’s not an addict. There are no marks of injections. She didn’t sniff snow. Someone or other, perhaps the boy, perhaps someone else, was administering drugs to her without her knowledge. Not just a purple heart or two in the modern fashion. A rather interesting medley of drugs — LSD giving vivid dream sequences — nightmares or pleasurable. Hemp distorting the time factor, so that she might believe an experience has lasted an hour instead of a few minutes. And a good many other curious substances that I have no intention of letting any of you know about. Somebody who was clever with drugs played merry hell with that girl. Stimulants, sedatives, they all played their part in controlling her, and showing her to herself as a completely different person.’
Restarick interrupted: ‘That’s what I say. Norma wasn’t responsible! Someone was hypnotising her to do these things.’
‘You still haven’t got the point! Nobody could make the girl do what she didn’t want to do! What they could do, was make her think she had done it. Now we’ll have her in and make her see what’s been happening to her.’
He looked inquiringly at Chief Inspector Neele, who nodded.
Stillingfleet spoke over his shoulder to Claudia, as he went out of the sitting-room. ‘Where’d you put that other girl, the one you took away from Jacobs, gave a sedative to? In her room on her bed? Better shake her up a bit, and drag her along, somehow. We’ll need all the help we can get.’
Claudia also went out of the sitting-room.
Stillingfleet came back, propelling Norma, and uttering rough encouragement.
‘There’s a good girl…Nobody’s going to bite you. Sit there.’
She sat obediently. Her docility was still rather frightening.
The policewoman hovered by the door looking scandalised.
‘All I’m asking you to do is to speak the truth. It isn’t nearly as difficult as you think.’
Claudia came in with Frances Cary. Frances was yawning heavily. Her black hair hung like a curtain hiding half her mouth as she yawned and yawned again.
‘You need a pick-me-up,’ said Stillingfleet to her.
‘I wish you’d all let me go to sleep,’ murmured Frances indistinctly.
‘Nobody’s going to have a chance of sleep until I’ve done with them! Now, Norma, you answer my questions — That woman along the passage says you admitted to her that you killed David Baker. Is that right?’
Her docile voice said:
‘Yes. I killed David.’
‘Stabbed him?’
‘Yes.’
‘How do you know you did?’
She looked faintly puzzled. ‘I don’t know what you mean. He was there on the floor — dead.’
‘Where was the knife?’
‘I picked it up.’
‘It had blood on it?’
‘Yes. And on his shirt.’
‘What did it feel like — the blood on the knife? The blood that you got on your hand and had to wash off — Wet? Or more like strawberry jam?’
‘It was like strawberry jam — sticky.’ She shivered. ‘I had to go and wash it off my hands.’
‘Very sensible. Well, that ties up everything very nicely. Victim, murderer — you — all complete with the weapon. Do you remember actually doing it?’
‘No…I don’t remember that…But I must have done it, mustn’t I?’
‘Don’t ask me! I wasn’t there. It’s you are the one who’s saying it. But there was another