Towards Zero - Agatha Christie [77]
“Your story was all a lie?”
“Deductions would not have carried weight with the police. I had to say I saw what happened.”
“But—you might have had to swear to it at my trial.”
“Yes.”
“You would have done that?”
“I would.”
Audrey cried incredulously: “And you—you are the man who lost his job and came down to throwing himself off a cliff because he wouldn’t tamper with the truth!”
“I have a great regard for the truth. But I’ve discovered there are things that matter more.”
“Such as?”
“You,” said MacWhirter.
Audrey’s eyes dropped. MacWhirter cleared his throat in an embarrassed manner.
“There’s no need for you to feel under a great obligation or anything of that kind. You’ll never hear of me again after today. The police have got Strange’s confession and they’ll not need my evidence. In any case I hear he’s so bad he’ll maybe not live to come to trial.”
“I’m glad of that,” said Audrey.
“You were fond of him once?”
“Of the man I thought he was.”
MacWhirter nodded. “We’ve all felt that way, maybe.” He went on: “Everything’s turned out well. Superintendent Battle was able to act upon my story and break down the man—”
Audrey interrupted. She said:
“He worked upon your story, yes. But I don’t believe you fooled him. He deliberately shut his eyes.”
“Why do you say that?”
“When he was talking to me he mentioned it was lucky you saw what you did in the moonlight, and then added something—a sentence or two later—about its being a rainy night.”
MacWhirter was taken aback. “That’s true. On Monday night I doubt if I’d have seen anything at all.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Audrey.
“He knew that what you pretended to have seen was what had really happened. But it explains why he worked on Nevile to break him down. He suspected Nevile as soon as Thomas told him about me and Adrian. He knew then that if he was right about the kind of crime—he had fixed on the wrong person—what he wanted was some kind of evidence to use on Nevile. He wanted, as he said, a miracle—you were Superintendent Battle’s answer to prayer.”
“That’s a curious thing for him to say,” said MacWhirter dryly.
“So you see,” said Audrey, “you are a miracle. My special miracle.”
MacWhirter said earnestly:
“I’d not like you to feel you’re under an obligation to me. I’m going right out of your life—”
“Must you?” said Audrey.
He stared at her. The colour came up, flooding her ears and temples.
She said:
“Won’t you take me with you?”
“You don’t know what you’re saying!”
“Yes, I do. I’m doing something very difficult—but that matters to me more than life or death. I know the time is very short. By the way, I’m conventional, I should like to be married before we go!”
“Naturally,” said MacWhirter, deeply shocked. “You don’t imagine I’d suggest anything else.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” said Audrey.
MacWhirter said:
“I’m not your kind. I thought you’d marry that quiet fellow who’s cared for you so long.”
“Thomas? Dear True Thomas. He’s too true. He’s faithful to the image of a girl he loved years ago. But the person he really cares for is Mary Aldin, though he doesn’t know it yet himself.”
MacWhirter took a step towards her. He spoke sternly.
“Do you mean what you’re saying?”
“Yes…I want to be with you always, never to leave you. If you go I shall never find anybody like you, and I shall go lonely all my days.”
MacWhirter sighed. He took out his wallet and carefully examined its contents.
He murmured:
“A special licence comes expensive. I’ll need to go to the Bank first thing tomorrow.”
“I could lend you some money,” murmured Audrey.
“You’ll do nothing of the kind. If I marry a woman, I pay for the licence. You understand?”
“You needn’t,” said Audrey softly, “look so stern.”
He said gently as he came towards her:
“Last time I had my hands on you, you felt like a bird—struggling to escape. You’ll never escape now….”
She said:
“I shall never want to escape.”
* * *
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