2:03:44

Chapters 22-24 | Rebecca | Bedtime Story

by Dreamy Bookshelf

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talks
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Relax and unwind as you continue listening to Chapters 22-24 of Rebecca, a 1938 Gothic novel written by English author Daphne du Maurier. Widely considered a classic, it is a psychological thriller about a young woman who becomes obsessed with her husband’s first wife. Please be advised: The dialogue in these chapters contains occasional mild swearing that may be offensive to some listeners.

RelaxationBedtime StoryThrillerMysterySuspenseGriefInvestigationSecrecyEmotional TurmoilScrutinyFamily LoyaltyMedia PressureLegal ProceedingsEmotional SupportSocial ReputationStruggleIsolationPsychological StressInterpersonal ConflictEmotional ResilienceCommunity ReactionWeather MoodSocial Expectations

Transcript

Chapter 22 That evening,

When Frith brought in the local paper,

There were great headlines right across the top of the page.

He brought the paper and laid it down on the table.

Maxim was not there.

He had gone up early to change for dinner.

Frith stood a moment,

Waiting for me to say something,

And it seemed to me stupid and insulting to ignore a matter that must mean so much to everyone in the house.

"'This is a very dreadful thing,

Frith,

' I said.

"'Yes,

Madam,

We are almost distressed outside,

' he said.

"'It's so sad for Mr.

De Winter,

' I said,

Having to go through it all again.

' "'Yes,

Madam,

Very sad.

Such a shocking experience,

Madam,

Having to identify the second body having seen the first.

I suppose there is no doubt,

Then,

That the remains in the boat are genuinely those of the late Mrs.

De Winter?

' "'I'm afraid not,

Frith,

No doubt at all.

' "'It seems so odd to us,

Madam,

That she should have let herself be trapped like that in the cabin.

She was so experienced in a boat.

' "'Yes,

Frith,

That's what we all feel,

But accidents will happen,

And how it happened I don't suppose any of us will ever know.

' "'I suppose not,

Madam.

It's such a great shock all the same.

We are most distressed about it outside.

And coming suddenly just after the party,

It doesn't seem right somehow,

Does it?

' "'No,

Frith.

It seems there is to be an inquest,

Madam?

' "'Yes,

A formality,

You know.

' "'Of course,

Madam.

I wonder if any of us will be required to give evidence?

' "'I don't think so.

' "'I shall be only too pleased to do anything that might help the family.

Mr.

De Winter knows that.

' "'Yes,

Frith,

I'm sure he does.

' "'I've told them outside not to discuss the matter,

But it's very difficult to keep an eye on them,

Especially the girls.

I can deal with Robert,

Of course.

I'm afraid the news has been a great shock to Mrs.

Danvers.

' "'Yes,

Frith.

I rather expected it would.

' She went up to her room straight after lunch and has not come down again.

Alice took her a cup of tea and the paper a few minutes ago.

She said Mrs.

Danvers looked very ill indeed.

"'It would be better,

Really,

If she stayed where she is,

' I said.

"'It's no use her getting up and seeing to things if she is ill.

Perhaps Alice would tell her that.

I can very well manage the ordering,

The cook and I between us.

' "'Yes,

Madam.

I don't think she is physically ill,

Madam.

It's just the shock of Mrs.

De Winter being found.

She was so very devoted to Mrs.

De Winter.

' "'Yes,

' I said.

"'Yes,

I know.

' Frith went out of the room after that,

And I glanced quickly at the paper before Maxim came down.

There was a great column,

All down the front page,

And an awful blurred photograph of Maxim that must have been taken at least fifteen years ago.

It was dreadful,

Seeing it there on the front page,

Staring at me,

And the little line about myself at the bottom,

Saying whom Maxim had married as his second wife,

And how we had just given the fancy dress ball at Manderley.

It sounded so crude and callous in the dark print of the newspaper.

Rebecca,

Whom they described as beautiful,

Talented,

And loved by all who knew her,

Having been drowned a year ago,

And then Maxim marrying again the following spring,

Bringing his bride straight to Manderley,

So it said,

And giving the big fancy dress ball in her honor,

And then the following morning the body of his first wife being found,

Trapped in the cabin of her sailing boat,

At the bottom of the bay.

It was true,

Of course,

Though sprinkled with the little inaccuracies that added to the story,

Making it strong meat for the hundreds of readers who wanted value for their pennies.

Maxim sounded vile in it,

A sort of satire,

Bringing back his young bride,

As it described to me,

To Manderley,

And giving the dance,

As though we wanted to display ourselves before the world.

I hid the paper under the cushion of the chair,

So that Maxim should not see it,

But I cannot keep the morning editions from him.

The story was in our London papers,

Too.

There was a picture of Manderley,

And the story underneath.

Manderley was news,

And so was Maxim.

They talked about him as Max to Winter.

It sounded racy,

Horrible.

Each paper made great play of the fact that Rebecca's body had been found the day after the fancy dress ball,

As though there was something deliberate about it.

Both papers used the same word,

Ironic.

Yes,

I suppose it was ironic.

It made a good story.

I watched Maxim at the breakfast table,

Getting whiter and whiter as he read the papers,

One after the other,

And then the local one as well.

He did not say anything,

He just looked across at me,

And I stretched out my hand to him.

Damn them,

He whispered.

Damn them,

Damn them.

I thought of all the things they could say,

If they knew the truth.

Not one column,

But five or six,

Placards in London.

Newsboys shouting in the streets,

Outside the underground stations.

That frightful word of six letters,

In the middle of the placard,

Large and black.

Frank came up after breakfast.

He looked pale and tired,

As though he had not slept.

I've told the Exchange to put all calls for Manderley through to the office,

He said to Maxim.

It doesn't matter who it is.

If reporters ring up,

I can deal with them.

And anyone else,

Too.

I don't want either of you to be worried at all.

We've had several calls already from locals.

I gave the same answer to each.

Mr.

And Mrs.

De Winter were grateful for all sympathetic inquiries,

And they hoped their friends would understand that they were not receiving calls during the next few days.

Mrs.

Lacey rang up about 8.

30,

Wanted to come over at once.

Oh,

My God,

Began Maxim.

It's all right.

I prevented her.

I told her,

Quite truthfully,

That I did not think she would do any good coming over.

That you did not want to see anyone but Mrs.

De Winter.

She wanted to know when they were holding the inquest,

But I told her it had not been settled.

I don't know that we can stop her from coming to that,

If she finds it in the papers.

Those blasted reporters,

Said Maxim.

I know,

Said Frank.

We all want to ring their necks,

But you've got to see their point of view.

It's their bread and butter.

They've got to do the job for their paper.

If they don't get a story,

The editor probably sacks them.

If the editor does not produce a saleable edition,

The proprietor sacks him.

And if the paper doesn't sell,

The proprietor loses all his money.

You won't have to see them or speak to them,

Maxim.

I'm going to do all that for you.

All you have to concentrate on is your statement at the inquest.

I know what to say,

Said Maxim.

Of course you do.

But don't forget old Horridge is the coroner.

He's a sticky sort of chap.

Goes into details that are quite irrelevant.

Just to show the jury how thorough he is at his job.

You must not let him rattle you.

Why the devil should I be rattled?

I've nothing to be rattled about.

Of course not.

But I've attended these coroner's inquests before.

And it's so easy to get nervy and irritable.

You don't want to put the fellows back up.

Frank's right,

I said.

I know just what he means.

The swifter and smoother the whole thing goes,

The easier it will be for everyone.

Then once the wretched thing is over,

We shall forget all about it,

And so will everyone else,

Won't they,

Frank?

Yes,

Of course,

Said Frank.

I still avoided his eye,

But I was more convinced than ever that he knew the truth.

He had always known it,

From the very first.

I remembered the first time I met him,

That first day of mine at Manderley,

When he and Patrice and Giles had all been at lunch,

And Patrice had been tactless about Maxim's health.

I remembered Frank,

His quiet turning of the subject,

The way he had come to Maxim's aid in his quiet,

Unobtrusive manner if there was ever any question of difficulty,

That strange reluctance of his to talk about Rebecca,

His stiff,

Funny,

Pompous way of making conversation whenever we had approached anything like intimacy.

I understood it all,

Frank knew,

But Maxim did not know that he knew,

And Frank did not want Maxim to know that he knew.

And we all stood there,

Looking at one another,

Keeping up these little barriers between us.

We were not bothered with a telephone again.

All the calls were put through to the office,

It was just a question of waiting now,

Waiting until the Tuesday.

I saw nothing of Mrs.

Danvers,

The menu was sent through as usual,

And I did not change it.

I asked little Clarice about her,

She said she was going about her work as usual,

But she was not speaking to anybody.

She had all her meals alone in her sitting room.

Clarice was wide-eyed,

Evidently curious,

But she did not ask me any questions,

And I was not going to discuss it with her.

No doubt they talked of nothing else,

Out in the kitchen,

And on the estate too,

In the lodge,

On the farms.

I supposed all Carroth was full of it.

We stayed in Manderley,

In the gardens close to the house.

We did not even walk in the woods.

The weather had not broken yet,

It was still hot,

Oppressive.

The air was full of thunder,

And there was rain behind the white dull sky,

But it did not fall.

I could feel it and smell it,

Pent up there,

Behind the clouds.

The inquest was to be done on the Tuesday afternoon at two o'clock.

We had lunch at a quarter to one,

Frank came.

Then Kevin Betris had telephoned that she could not get over.

Their boy Roger had arrived home with measles,

They were all in quarantine.

I could not help blessing the measles,

I don't think Maxim could have borne it.

With Betris sitting here,

Staying in the house,

Sincere,

Anxious,

And affectionate,

But asking questions all the time,

Forever asking questions.

Lunch was a hurried nervous meal,

We none of us talked very much.

I had that nagging pain again,

I did not want anything to eat,

I could not swallow.

It was a relief when the farce of the meal was over,

And I heard Maxim go out onto the drive and start up the car.

The sound of the engine steadied me,

It meant we had to go,

We had to be doing something,

Not just sitting at Manderley.

Frank followed us in his own car,

I had my hand on Maxim's knee all the way as he drove.

He seemed quite calm,

Not nervous in any way.

It was like going with someone to a nursing home,

Someone who was to have an operation,

And not knowing what would happen,

Whether the operation would be successful.

My hands were very cold,

My heart was beating in a funny jerky way.

And all the time,

That little nagging pain beneath my heart.

The inquest was to be held at Lanyon,

The market town six miles the other side of Carroth.

We had to park the cars in the big cobbled square by the marketplace.

Dr.

Phillips' car was there already,

And also Colonel Julian's.

Other cars too.

I saw a passerby stare curiously at Maxim,

And then nudge her companion's arm.

I think I shall stay here,

I said,

I don't think I'll come in with you after all.

I did not want you to come,

Said Maxim,

I was against it from the first,

You'd much better have stayed at Manderley.

No,

I said,

No I'll be alright,

Sitting in the car.

Frank came and looked in at the window,

Isn't Mrs.

De Winter coming,

He said.

No,

Said Maxim,

She wants to stay in the car.

I think she's right,

Said Frank,

There's no earthly reason why she should be present at all,

We shan't be long.

It's alright,

I said.

I'll keep a seat for you,

Said Frank,

In case you should change your mind.

They went off together,

And left me sitting there.

It was early closing day,

The shops looked drab and dull,

There were not many people about,

Lanyon was not much of a holiday center anyway,

It was too far inland.

I sat looking at the silent shops,

The minutes went by,

I wondered what they were doing,

The coroner,

Frank,

Maxim,

Colonel Julian.

I got out of the car and began walking up and down the market square.

I went and looked in a shop window,

Then I walked up and down again,

I saw a policeman watching me curiously,

I turned up a side street to avoid him.

Somehow,

In spite of myself,

I found I was coming to the building where the inquest was being held.

There had been little publicity about the actual time,

And because of this there was no crowd waiting,

As I had feared and expected.

The place seemed deserted,

I went up the steps and stood just inside the door.

A policeman appeared from nowhere.

Do you want anything?

He said.

No,

I said,

No.

You can't wait here,

He said.

I'm sorry,

I went back towards the steps and to the street.

Excuse me,

Madam,

He said,

Aren't you Mrs.

De Winter?

Yes,

I said.

Of course that's different,

He said,

You can wait here if you like,

Would you like to take a seat,

Just inside this room?

Thank you,

I said.

He showed me into a little bare room with a desk in it,

It was like a waiting room at a station.

I sat there with my hands on my lap.

Five minutes passed,

Nothing happened,

It was worse than being outside,

Than sitting in the car.

I got up and went into the passage,

The policeman was still standing there.

How long will they be?

I said.

I'll go and inquire if you like,

He said.

He disappeared along the passage,

In a moment he came back again.

I don't think they will be very much longer,

He said.

Mr.

De Winter has just given his evidence,

Captain Searle and the diver and Dr.

Phillips have already given theirs,

There's only one more to speak,

Mr.

Tab,

The boat builder from Carroth.

Then it's nearly over,

I said.

I expect so,

Madam,

He said.

Then,

On a sudden thought,

Would you like to hear the remaining evidence?

There is a seat there,

Just inside the door,

If you slip in now nobody will notice you.

Yes,

I said,

Yes I think I will.

It was nearly over,

Maxim had finished giving his evidence,

I did not mind hearing the rest,

It was Maxim I had not wanted to hear.

I had been nervous of listening to his evidence,

That was why I had not gone with him and Frank in the first place.

Now it did not matter,

His part of it was over.

I followed the policeman and he opened a door at the end of the passage,

I slipped in,

I sat down just by the door,

I kept my head low so that I would not have to look at anybody.

The room was smaller than I had imagined,

Rather hot and stuffy.

I had pictured a great bare room with benches,

Like a church.

Maxim and Frank were sitting down at the other end,

The coroner was a thin elderly man in poncenay.

There were people there I did not know,

I glanced at them out of the tail of my eye,

My heart gave a jump suddenly as I recognized Mrs.

Danvers,

She was sitting right at the back,

And Favell was beside her,

Jack Favell,

Rebecca's cousin,

He was leaning forward,

His chin in his hands,

His eyes fixed on the coroner,

Mr.

Horridge.

I had not expected him to be there,

I wondered if Maxim had seen him.

James Tabb,

The boat builder,

Was standing up now,

And the coroner was asking him a question.

Yes sir?

Answered Tabb.

I converted Mrs.

De Winter's little boat,

She was a French fishing boat originally,

And Mrs.

De Winter bought her for next to nothing over in Britannia,

And had her shipped over,

She gave me the job of converting her,

And doing her up like a little yacht.

Was the boat in a fit state to put to sea?

Said the coroner.

She was when I fitted her out in April of last year.

Said Tabb.

Mrs.

De Winter laid her up as usual at my yard in the October,

And then in March I had word from her to fit her up as usual,

Which I did.

That would be Mrs.

De Winter's fourth season with the boat,

Since I did the conversion job for her.

Had the boat ever been known to capsize before?

Asked the coroner.

No sir,

I should soon have heard it from Mrs.

De Winter,

Had there been any question of it.

She was delighted with the boat in every way,

According to what she said to me.

I suppose great care was needed to handle the boat?

Said the coroner.

Well sir,

Everyone has to have their wits about them when they go sailing boats,

I won't deny it.

But Mrs.

De Winter's boat wasn't one of those cranky little craft that you can't leave for a moment,

Like some of the boats you see in Kerith.

She was a stout,

Seaworthy boat,

And could stand a lot of wind.

Mrs.

De Winter had sailed her in worse weather than she ever found that night.

It was only blowing and fits and starts at the time.

That's what I've said all along,

I couldn't understand Mrs.

De Winter's boat being lost on a night like that.

But surely,

If Mrs.

De Winter went below for a coat,

As is supposed,

And a sudden puff of wind was to come down from the headland,

It would be enough to capsize the boat?

Asked the coroner.

James Tabb shook his head.

No,

He said stubbornly.

I don't see that it would.

Well,

I'm afraid that is what must have happened,

Said the coroner.

I don't think Mr.

De Winter,

Or any of us,

Suggests that your workmanship was to blame for the accident at all.

You fitted the boat,

Out at the beginning of the season.

You reported her sound and seaworthy,

And that's all I want to know.

Unfortunately,

The late Mrs.

De Winter relaxed her watchfulness for a moment,

And she lost her life,

The boat sinking with her aboard.

Such accidents have happened before.

I repeat again,

We are not blaming you.

Excuse me,

Sir,

Said the boat builder,

But there is a little bit more to it than that,

And if you would allow me,

I should like to make a further statement.

Very well,

Go on,

Said the coroner.

It's like this,

Sir.

After the accident last year,

A lot of people in Carroth made unpleasantness about my work.

Some said I had let Mrs.

De Winter start the season in a leaky,

Rotten boat.

I lost two or three orders because of it.

It was very unfair,

But the boat had sunk,

And there was nothing I could say to clear myself.

Then that steamer went ashore,

As we all know,

And Mrs.

De Winter's little boat was found and brought to the surface.

Captain Sorrell himself gave me permission yesterday to go and look at her,

And I did.

I wanted to satisfy myself that the work I had put into her was sound,

In spite of the fact that she had been waterlogged for twelve months or so.

Well,

That was very natural,

Said the coroner,

And I hope you were satisfied.

Yes,

Sir,

I was.

There was nothing wrong with that boat as regards to the work I did to her.

I examined every corner of her there,

On the lighter,

Up the pill,

Where Captain Sorrell had put her.

She had sunk on sandy bottom.

I asked the diver about that,

And he told me so.

She had not touched the ridge at all.

The ridge was a clear five feet away.

She was lying on sand,

And there wasn't the mark of a rock on her.

He paused.

The coroner looked at him expectantly.

Well,

He said.

Is that all you want to say?

No,

Sir,

Said Tab emphatically.

It's not.

What I want to know is this.

Who drove the holes in her planking?

Rocks didn't do it.

The nearest rock was five feet away.

Besides,

There weren't the sort of marks made by a rock.

They were holes,

Done with a spike.

I did not look at him.

I was looking at the floor.

There was oilcloth laid on the boards.

Green oilcloth.

I looked at it.

I wondered why the coroner did not say something.

Why did the pause last so long?

When he spoke at last,

His voice sounded rather far away.

What do you mean?

He said.

What sort of holes?

There are three of them all together,

Said the boat builder.

One right forward,

By her chainlocker,

On her starboard planking,

Below the waterline.

The other two close together,

Amid ships,

Underneath her floorboards on the bottom.

The ballast had been shifted,

Too.

It was lying loose.

And that's not all.

The seacocks had been turned on.

The seacocks?

What are they?

Asked the coroner.

The fitting that plugs the pipes,

Leading from a wash basin or lavatory,

Sir.

Mrs.

De Winter had a little place fitted up right aft.

And there was a sink forward,

Where the washing up was done.

There was a seacock there,

And another in the lavatory.

These are always kept tight closed when you're underway,

Otherwise the water would flow in.

When I examined the boat yesterday,

Both seacocks were turned full on.

It was hot.

Much too hot.

Why didn't they open a window?

We should be suffocated if we sat here with the air like this.

And there were so many people,

All breathing the same air.

So many people.

With those holes in her planking,

Sir,

And the seacocks not closed,

It wouldn't take long for a small boat like her to sink.

Not much more than ten minutes,

I should say.

Those holes weren't there when the boat left my yard.

I was proud of my work,

And so was Mrs.

De Winter.

It's my opinion,

Sir,

That the boat never capsized at all.

She was deliberately scuttled.

I must try and get out of the door.

I must try and go back to the waiting room again.

There was no air left in this place.

And the person next to me was pressing close,

Close.

Someone in front of me was standing up.

And they were talking,

Too.

They were all talking.

I did not know what was happening.

I could not see anything.

It was hot,

So very hot.

The coroner was asking everybody to be silent.

And he said something about Mr.

De Winter.

I could not see.

The woman's hat was in front of me.

Maxim was standing up now.

I could not look at him.

I must not look at him.

I felt like this once before.

When was it?

I don't know.

I don't remember.

Oh,

Yes,

With Mrs.

Danvers.

The time Mrs.

Danvers stood with me by the window.

Mrs.

Danvers was in this place now,

Listening to the coroner.

Maxim was standing up over there.

The heat was coming up at me from the floor,

Rising in slow waves.

It reached my hands,

Wet and slippery.

It touched my neck,

My chin,

My face.

Mr.

De Winter,

You heard the statement from James Tabb.

You had the care of Mrs.

De Winter's boat?

Do you know anything of these holes driven in the planking?

Nothing whatever,

Said Maxim.

Can you think of any reason why they should be there?

No,

Of course not.

It's the first time you've heard them mentioned?

Yes.

It's a shock to you,

Of course.

It was shock enough to learn that I made a mistake in identification over 12 months ago,

And now I learned that my late wife was not only drowned in the cabin of her boat,

But that holes were bored in the boat,

With a deliberate intent of letting in the water so that the boat should sink.

Does it surprise you that I should be shocked?

No,

Maxim,

No.

You will put his back up.

You heard what Frank said.

You must not put his back up.

Not that voice.

Not that angry voice,

Maxim.

He won't understand.

Please,

Darling,

Please.

Oh,

God.

Don't let Maxim lose his temper.

Don't let him lose his temper.

Mr.

De Winter,

I want you to believe that we all feel very deeply for you in this matter.

No doubt you have suffered a shock,

A very severe shock,

In learning that your late wife was drowned in her own cabin,

And not at sea as you supposed.

And I am inquiring into the matter for you.

I want,

For your sake,

To find out exactly how and why she died.

I don't conduct this inquiry for my own amusement.

That's rather obvious,

Isn't it?

Said Maxim.

I hope that it is.

James Tabb has just told us that the boat,

Which contained the remains of the late Mrs.

De Winter,

Had three holes hammered through her bottom,

And that the sea cocks were open.

Do you doubt his statement?

Course not.

He's a boat builder.

He knows what he is talking about.

Who looked after Mrs.

De Winter's boat?

She looked after it herself.

She employed no hand?

No,

Nobody at all.

The boat was moored in the private harbor,

Belonging to Manderley?

Yes.

Any stranger who tried to tamper with the boat would be seen?

Yes.

There is no access to the harbor by public footpath?

No,

None at all.

The harbor is quiet,

Is it not,

And surrounded by trees?

Yes.

A trespasser might not be noticed?

Possibly not.

Yet James Tabb has told us,

And we have no reason to disbelieve him,

That a boat with those holes drilled in her bottom and the sea cocks open could not float for more than ten or fifteen minutes.

Quite.

Therefore,

We can put aside the idea that the boat was tampered with maliciously before Mrs.

De Winter went out for her evening sail.

Had that been the case,

The boat would have sunk at her moorings.

No doubt.

Therefore,

We must assume that whoever took the boat out that night drove in the planking and opened the sea cocks.

I suppose so.

You have told us already that the door of the cabin was shut,

The portholes closed,

And your wife's remains were on the floor.

This was in your statement,

And in Dr.

Phillips,

And in Captain Searle's.

Yes.

And now added to this is the information that a spike was driven through the bottom and the sea cocks were open.

Does not this strike you,

Mr.

De Winter,

As being very strange?

Certainly.

You have no suggestion to make?

No,

None at all.

Mr.

De Winter,

Painful as it may be,

It is my duty to ask you a very personal question.

Yes.

Were relations between you and the late Mrs.

De Winter perfectly happy?

They had to come,

Of course.

Those black spots in front of my eyes.

Dancing,

Flickering,

Stabbing the hazy air.

And it was hot,

So hot,

With all these people,

All these faces,

And no open window.

The door,

From being near to me,

Was further away than I had thought,

And all the time the ground coming up at me.

And then,

Out of the queer mist around me,

Maxim's voice,

Clear and strong,

Will someone take my wife outside?

She is going to faint.

Chapter 23 I was sitting in the little room again,

The room like a waiting room at the station.

The policeman was there,

Bending over me,

Giving me a glass of water,

And someone's hand was on my arm,

Frank's hand.

I sat quite still,

The floor,

The walls,

The figures of Frank and the policeman,

Taking solid shape before me.

I'm so sorry,

I said,

Such a stupid thing to do,

It was so hot in that room,

So very hot.

It gets very airless in there,

Said the policeman.

There's been complaints about it often,

But nothing's ever done,

We've had ladies fainting in there before.

Are you feeling better,

Mrs.

De Winter,

Said Frank.

Yes,

Yes,

Much better.

I shall be all right again,

Don't wait with me.

I'm going to take you back to Manderley.

No.

Yes,

Maxim has asked me to.

No,

You ought to stay with him.

Maxim told me to take you back to Manderley.

He put his arm through mine and helped me to get up.

Can you walk as far as the car,

Or shall I bring it round?

I can walk,

But I'd much rather stay,

I want to wait for Maxim.

Maxim may be a long time.

Why did he say that?

What did he mean?

Why didn't he look at me?

He took my arm and walked with me along the passage to the door,

And so down the steps into the street.

Maxim may be a long time.

We did not speak.

We came to the little Morris car belonging to Frank.

He opened the door and helped me in.

Then he got in himself and started up the engine.

We drove away from the cobbled marketplace,

Through the empty town,

And out onto the road to Carroth.

Will they be a long time?

What are they going to do?

They may have to go over the evidence again.

Frank looked straight in front of him along the hard white road.

They've had all the evidence,

I said.

There's nothing more anyone can say.

You never know,

Said Frank.

The coroner may put his questions in a different way.

Tab has altered the whole business.

The coroner will have to approach it now from another angle.

What angle?

How do you mean?

You heard the evidence?

You heard what Tab said about the boat?

They won't believe in an accident anymore.

It's absurd,

Frank.

It's ridiculous.

They should not listen to Tab.

How can he tell,

After all these months,

How holes came to be in a boat?

What are they trying to prove?

I don't know.

That coroner will go on and on,

Harping at Maxim,

Making him lose his temper,

Making him say things he doesn't mean.

He will ask question after question,

Frank,

And Maxim won't stand it.

I know he won't stand it.

Frank did not answer.

He was driving very fast.

For the first time since I had known him,

He was at a loss for the usual conventional phrase.

That meant he was worried,

Very worried.

And usually he was such a slow,

Careful driver,

Stopping dead at every crossroads,

Peering to right and left,

Blowing his horn at every bend in the road.

That man was there,

I said.

That man who came once to Manderley to see Mrs.

Danvers.

You mean Favell?

Asked Frank.

Yes,

I saw him.

He was sitting there with Mrs.

Danvers.

Yes,

I know.

Why was he there?

What right had he to go to the inquest?

He was her cousin.

It's not right that he and Mrs.

Danvers should sit there,

Listening to that evidence.

I don't trust them,

Frank.

No.

They might do something.

They might make mischief.

Again,

Frank did not answer.

I realized that his loyalty to Maxim was such that he would not let himself be drawn into a discussion,

Even with me.

He did not know how much I knew,

Nor could I tell for certainty how much he knew.

We were allies,

We traveled the same road,

But we could not look at one another.

We neither of us dared risk a confession.

We were turning in now at the lodge gates,

And down the long,

Twisting narrow drive to the house.

I noticed for the first time how the hydrangeas were coming into bloom,

Their blue heads thrusting themselves from the green foliage behind.

For all their beauty,

There was something somber about them.

They were like the wreaths,

Stiff and artificial,

That you see beneath glass cases in a foreign churchyard.

There they were,

All the way along the drive,

On either side of us,

Blue,

Monotonous,

Like spectators lined up in a street to watch us pass.

We came to the house at last,

And rounded the great sweep before the steps.

Will you be all right now?

Said Frank.

You can lie down,

Can't you?

Yes,

I said.

Yes,

Perhaps.

I shall go back to Lanyon,

He said.

Maxim may want me.

He did not say anything more.

He got quickly back into the car again and drove away.

Maxim might want him.

Why did he say Maxim might want him?

Perhaps the coroner was going to question Frank as well.

Ask him about that evening,

Over twelve months ago,

When Maxim had dined with Frank.

He would want to know the exact time that Maxim left his house.

He would want to know if anybody saw Maxim when he returned to the house,

Whether the servants knew that he was there,

Whether anybody could prove that Maxim went straight up to bed and undressed.

Mrs.

Danvers might be questioned.

They might ask Mrs.

Danvers to give evidence,

And Maxim,

Beginning to lose his temper,

Beginning to go white.

I went into the hall,

I went upstairs to my room,

And laid down upon my bed,

Even as Frank had suggested.

I put my hands over my eyes.

I kept seeing that room and all the faces.

The lined,

Painstaking,

Aggravating face of the coroner.

The golden pince-nez on his nose.

I don't conduct this inquiry for my own amusement.

His slow,

Careful mind,

Easily offended.

What were they all saying now?

What was happening?

Suppose in a little while Frank came back to Manderley alone.

I did not know what happened.

I did not know what people did.

I remembered pictures of men in the papers,

Leaving places like that,

And being taken away.

Suppose Maxim was taken away.

They would not let me go to him.

They would not let me see him.

I should have to stay here at Manderley,

Day after day,

Night after night,

Waiting,

As I was waiting now.

People like Colonel Julian being kind.

People saying,

You must not be alone,

You must come to us.

The telephone,

The newspapers,

The telephone again.

No,

Mrs.

DeWinter can't see anyone.

Mrs.

DeWinter has no story to give the County Chronicle.

And another day,

And another day.

Weeks that would be blurred and non-existent.

Frank at last taking me to see Maxim.

He would look thin,

Queer,

Like people in hospital.

Other women had been through this.

Women I had read about in the papers.

They sent letters to the Home Secretary,

And it was not any good.

The Home Secretary always said that justice must take its course.

Friends sent petitions too.

Everybody signed them.

But the Home Secretary could never do anything.

And the ordinary people,

Who read about it in the papers,

Said why should the fellow get off?

He murdered his wife,

Didn't he?

What about the poor,

Murdered wife?

This sentimental business about abolishing the death penalty simply encourages crime.

This fellow ought to have thought about that before he killed his wife.

It's too late now.

He will have to hang for it,

Like any other murderer.

And serve him right too.

Let it be a warning to others.

I remember seeing a picture,

On the back of a paper once,

Of a little crowd collected outside a prison gate.

And just after nine o'clock,

A policeman came and pinned a notice on the gate for the people to read.

The notice said something about the sentence being carried out.

Sentence of death was carried out this morning at nine o'clock.

The governor,

The prison doctor,

And the sheriff of the county were present.

Hanging was quick.

Hanging did not hurt.

It broke your neck at once.

No,

It did not.

Someone said once it did not always work.

Someone who had known the governor of a prison.

They put that bag over your head,

And you stand on the little platform,

And then the floor gives way beneath you.

It takes exactly three minutes to go from the cell to the moment you are hanged.

No,

Fifty seconds,

Someone said.

No,

That's absurd.

It could not be fifty seconds.

There's a little flight of steps,

Down the side of the shed,

Down to the pit.

The doctor goes down there to look.

They die instantly.

No,

They don't.

The body moves for some time.

The neck is not always broken.

Yes,

But even so they don't feel anything.

Someone said they did.

Someone who had a brother who was a prison doctor,

Said it was not generally known,

Cause it would be such a scandal,

But they did not always die at once.

Their eyes were open.

They stay open for quite a long time.

God,

Don't let me go on thinking about this.

Let me think about something else.

About other things.

About Mrs.

Van Hopper in America.

She must be staying with her daughter now.

They had that house on Long Island in the summer.

I expect they played a lot of bridge.

They went to the races.

Mrs.

Van Hopper was fond of the races.

I wonder if she still wears that little yellow hat.

It was too small for her.

Much too small on that big face.

Mrs.

Van Hopper,

Sitting about in the garden of that house on Long Island,

With novels and magazines,

And papers on her lap.

Mrs.

Van Hopper,

Putting up her lorgnette and calling to her daughter.

Look at this,

Helen.

They say Max DeWinter murdered his first wife.

I always did think there was something peculiar about him.

I warned that fool of a girl she was making a mistake.

But she wouldn't listen to me.

Well,

She's cooked her goose now,

Right?

I suppose I'll make her a big offer to go on the pictures.

Something was touching my hand.

It was Jasper.

Jasper thrusting his cold,

Damp nose in my hands.

He had followed me up from the hall.

Why do dogs make one want to cry?

There was something so quiet and hopeless about their sympathy.

Jasper,

Knowing something was wrong.

As dogs always do.

Trunks being packed.

Cars being brought to the door.

Dogs standing with drooping tails,

Dejected eyes.

Wandering back to their baskets in the hall when the sound of the car dies away.

I must have fallen asleep because I woke suddenly with a start and heard that first crack of thunder in the air.

I sat up.

The clock said five.

I got up and went to the window.

There was not a breath of wind.

The leaves hung listless on the trees,

Waiting.

The sky was slatey gray.

The jagged lightning split the sky.

Another rumble in the distance.

No rain fell.

I went out into the corridor and listened.

I could not hear anything.

I went to the head of the stairs.

There was no sign of anybody.

The hall was dark because of the menace of thunder overhead.

I went down and stood on the terrace.

There was another burst of thunder.

One spot of rain fell on my hand.

One spot.

No more.

It was very dark.

I could see the sea beyond the dip in the valley like a black lake.

Another spot fell on my hands and another crack of thunder came.

One of the housemaids began shutting the windows in the rooms upstairs.

Robert appeared and shut the windows of the drawing room behind me.

The gentlemen are not back yet,

Are they,

Robert?

I asked.

No,

Madam,

Not yet.

I thought you were with them,

Madam.

No,

No.

I've been back some time.

Will you have tea,

Madam?

No.

No,

I'll wait.

It looks as though the weather was going to break at last,

Madam.

Yes.

No rain fell.

Nothing since those two drops on my hand.

I went back and sat in the library.

At half past five,

Robert came into the room.

The car has just driven up to the door now,

Madam.

He said.

Which car?

Mr.

DeWinter's car,

Madam.

He said.

Is Mr.

DeWinter driving it himself?

Yes,

Madam.

I tried to get up,

But my legs were things of straw.

They would not bear me.

I stood leaning against the sofa.

My throat was very dry.

After a minute,

Maxim came into the room.

He stood just inside the door.

He looked very tired,

Old.

There were lines at the corner of his mouth I had never noticed before.

It's all over,

He said.

I waited.

Still,

I could not speak or move towards him.

Suicide,

He said.

Without sufficient evidence to show the state of mind of the deceased.

They were all at sea,

Of course.

They did not know what they were doing.

I sat down on the sofa.

Suicide,

I said.

But the motive?

Where was the motive?

God knows,

He said.

They did not seem to think a motive was necessary.

Old Horridge,

Peering at me,

Wanted to know if Rebecca had any money troubles.

Money troubles,

God in heaven.

He went and stood by the window,

Looking out at the green lawns.

It's going to rain,

He said.

Thank God it's going to rain at last.

What happened?

I said.

What did the coroner say?

Why have you been there all this time?

He went over and over the same ground again,

Said Maxim.

Little details about the boat that no one cared about.

Were the seacocks hard to turn on?

Where exactly was the first hole in relation to the second?

What was ballast?

What effect upon the stability of the boat would the shifting of the ballast have?

Could a woman do this unaided?

Did the cabin door shut firmly?

What pressure of water was necessary to burst open a door?

I thought I should go mad.

I kept my temper,

Though.

Seeing you there by the door made me remember what I had to do.

If you had not feigned it like that,

I should never have done it.

It brought me up with a jerk.

I knew exactly what I was going to say.

I faced Horridge all the time.

I never took my eyes off his thin,

Pernickety little face and those gold-rimmed ponds ney.

I shall remember that face of his to my dying day.

I'm tired,

Darling,

So tired I can't see,

Or hear,

Or feel anything.

He sat down on the window seat.

He leant forward,

His head in his hands.

I went and sat beside him.

In a few minutes Frith came in,

Followed by Robert,

Carrying the table for tea.

The Solemn Ritual went forward as it always did,

Day after day.

The leaves of the table pulled out.

The laying of the snowy cloth.

The putting down of the silver teapot and the kettle with a little flame beneath.

Scones,

Sandwiches.

Three different sorts of cake.

Jasper sat close to the table,

His tail thumping now and again upon the floor.

His eyes fixed expectantly on me.

It's funny,

I thought.

How the routine of life goes on.

Whatever happens,

We do the same things.

Go through the little performance of eating,

Sleeping,

Washing.

No crisis can break through the crust of habit.

I poured out Maxim's tea.

I took it to him on the window seat,

Gave him a scone,

And buttered one for myself.

Where's Frank?

I asked.

He had to go and see the vicar.

I would have gone too,

But I wanted to come straight back to you.

I kept thinking of you,

Waiting here,

All by yourself,

Not knowing what was going to happen.

Why the vicar?

I said.

Something has to happen this evening,

He said.

Something at the church.

I stared at him blankly.

Then I understood.

They were going to bury Rebecca.

They were going to bring Rebecca back from the mortuary.

It's fixed for 6.

30,

He said.

No one knows but Frank,

And Colonel Julian,

And the vicar,

And myself.

There won't be anyone hanging about.

This was arranged yesterday.

The verdict doesn't make any difference.

What time must you go?

I'm meeting them there at church at twenty-five past six.

I did not say anything.

I went on drinking my tea.

Maxim put his sandwich down,

Untasted.

It's still very hot,

Isn't it?

He said.

It's a storm,

I said.

It won't break.

Only little spots at a time.

It's there in the air.

It won't break.

It was thundering when I left Lanyon,

He said.

The sky was like ink over my head.

Why in the name of God doesn't it rain?

The birds were hushed in the trees.

It was still very dark.

I wish you did not have to go out again,

I said.

He did not answer.

He looked tired.

So deathly tired.

We'll talk over things this evening when I get back,

He said presently.

We've got so much to do together,

Haven't we?

We've got to begin all over again.

I've been the worst sort of husband for you.

No,

I said,

No.

We'll start again,

Once this thing is behind us.

We can do it,

You and I.

It's not like being alone.

The past can't hurt us if we are together.

You'll have children,

Too.

After a while,

He glanced at his watch.

It's ten past six,

He said.

I shall have to be going.

It won't take long.

Not more than half an hour.

We've got to go down to the crypt.

I held his hand.

I'll come with you.

I shan't mind.

Let me come with you.

No,

He said.

No,

I don't want you to come.

Then he went out of the room.

I heard the sound of the car starting up in the drive.

Presently,

The sound died away,

And I knew he had gone.

Robert came to clear away the tea.

It was like another day.

The routine was unchanged.

I wondered if it would have been so had Maxim not come back from Lanyon.

I wondered if Robert would have stood there,

That wooden expression on his young sheep's face,

Brushing the crumbs from the snow-white cloth,

Picking up the table,

Carrying it from the room.

It seemed very quiet in the library when he had gone.

I began to think of them down at the church,

Going through that door and down the flight of stairs to the crypt.

I had never been there.

I had only seen the door.

I wondered what a crypt was like,

If there were coffins standing there.

Maxim's father and mother.

I wondered what would happen to the coffin of that other woman who had been put there by mistake.

I wondered who she was.

Poor,

Unclaimed soul,

Washed up by the wind and tide.

Now another coffin would stand there.

Rebecca would lie there in the crypt as well.

Was the vicar reading the burial service there,

With Maxim and Frank,

And Colonel Julian standing by his side?

Ashes to ashes,

Dust to dust.

It seemed to me that Rebecca had no reality anymore.

She had crumbled away when they had found her on the cabin floor.

It was not Rebecca who was lying in the crypt.

It was dust,

Only dust.

Just after seven the rain began to fall.

Gently at first,

A light pattering in the trees,

And so thin I could not see it.

Then louder and faster,

A driving torrent falling slantways from the slate sky,

Like water from a sluice.

I left the windows open wide.

I stood in front of them and breathed the cold,

Clean air.

The rain splashed into my face and on my hands.

I could not see beyond the lawns.

The falling rain came thick and fast.

I heard it sputtering in the gutter pipes above the windows,

And the splashing on the stones of the terrace.

There was no more thunder.

The rain smelt of moss and earth,

And of the black bark of trees.

I did not hear Frith come in at the door.

I was standing by the window,

Watching the rain.

I did not see him until he was beside me.

"'Excuse me,

Madam,

' he said.

"'Do you know if Mr.

De Winter will be long?

' "'No,

' I said.

"'Not very long.

' "'There's a gentleman to see him,

Madam,

' said Frith,

After a moment's hesitation.

"'I'm not quite sure what I ought to say.

He's very insistent about seeing Mr.

De Winter.

' "'Is it anyone you know?

' Frith looked uncomfortable.

"'Yes,

Madam,

' he said.

"'It's a gentleman who used to come here frequently,

At one time,

When Mrs.

De Winter was alive.

A gentleman called Mr.

Favell.

' I knelt on the window seat and shut the window.

The rain was coming in on the cushions.

Then I turned round and looked at Frith.

"'I think perhaps I had better see Mr.

Favell,

' I said.

"'Very good,

Madam.

' I went and stood over on the rug beside the empty fireplace.

It was just possible that I should be able to get rid of Favell before Maxim came back.

I did not know what I was going to say to him,

But I was not frightened.

In a few moments Frith returned and showed Favell into the library.

He looked much the same as before,

But a little rougher if possible,

A little more untidy.

He was the sort of man who invariably went hatless.

His hair was bleached from the sun of the last days,

And his skin was deeply tanned.

His eyes were rather bloodshot.

I wondered if he had been drinking.

"'I'm afraid Maxim is not here,

' I said.

"'I don't know when he will be back.

Wouldn't it be better if you made an appointment to see him at the office in the morning?

' "'Waiting doesn't worry me,

' said Favell.

"'And I don't think I shall have to wait very long,

You know.

' I had a look in the dining room as I came along,

And I see Max's place is laid for dinner all right.

" "'Our plans have been changed,

' I said.

"'It's quite possible Maxim won't be home at all this evening.

'" "'He's run off,

Has he?

' said Favell with a half-smile I did not like.

"'I wonder if you really mean it.

Of course,

Under the circumstances,

It's the wisest thing he can do.

Gossip is an unpleasant thing to some people.

It's more pleasant to avoid,

Isn't it?

' "'I don't know what you mean,

' I said.

"'Don't you?

' he said.

"'Oh,

Come,

You don't expect me to believe that,

Do you?

Tell me,

Are you feeling better?

Too bad,

Fainting like that at the inquest this afternoon.

I would have come and helped you out,

But I saw you had one night errant already.

I bet Frank Crawley enjoyed himself.

Did you let him drive you home?

' "'You wouldn't let me drive you five yards when I offered to.

' "'What do you want to see Maxim about?

' I asked.

Favell leapt forward to the table and helped himself to a cigarette.

"'You don't mind my smoking,

I suppose,

' he said.

"'It won't make you sick,

Will it?

One never knows with brides.

' He watched me over his lighter.

"'You've grown up a bit since I last saw you,

Haven't you?

' he said.

"'I wonder what you have been doing.

Leading Frank Crawley up the garden path?

' He blew a cloud of smoke in the air.

"'I say,

Do you mind asking old Frith to get me a whiskey and soda?

' I did not say anything.

I went and rang the bell.

He sat down on the edge of the sofa,

Swinging his legs,

That half-smile on his lips.

Robert answered the bell.

"'A whiskey and soda for Mr.

Favell,

' I said.

"'Well,

Robert,

' said Favell,

"'I haven't seen you for a very long time.

Still breaking the hearts of the girls in Carroth?

' Robert flushed.

He glanced at me,

Horribly embarrassed.

"'All right,

Old chap.

I won't give you away.

Run along,

Get me a double whiskey,

And jump on it.

' Robert disappeared.

Favell laughed,

Dropping ash all over the floor.

"'I took Robert out once on his half-day,

' he said.

"'Rebecca bet me a fiver.

I wouldn't ask him.

I won my fiver all right.

Spent one of the funniest evenings of my life.

Did I laugh?

Oh,

Boy.

Robert on the razzle takes a lot of beating,

I tell you.

I must say he's got a good eye for a girl.

He picked the prettiest of the bunch we saw that night.

' Robert came back again with the whiskey and soda on a tray.

He looked very red,

Very uncomfortable.

Favell watched him with a smile as he poured out his drink,

And then he began to laugh,

Leaning back on the arm of the sofa.

He whistled the bar of a song,

Watching Robert all the time.

"'That was the one,

Wasn't it?

' he said.

"'That was the tune?

Do you still like ginger hair,

Robert?

' Robert gave him a flat,

Weak smile.

He looked miserable.

Favell laughed louder still.

Robert turned and went out of the room.

"'Poor kid,

' said Favell.

"'I don't suppose he's been on the loose since.

That old frith keeps him on a leading string.

' He began drinking his whiskey and soda,

Glancing around the room,

Looking at me every now and then,

And smiling.

"'I don't think I shall mind very much if Max doesn't get back to dinner,

' he said.

"'What say you?

' I did not answer.

I stood by the fireplace,

My hands behind my back.

"'You wouldn't waste that place at the dining room table,

Would you?

' he said.

He looked at me,

Smiling still,

His head on one side.

"'Mr.

Favell,

' I said,

"'I don't want to be rude,

But as a matter of fact I'm very tired.

I've had a long and fairly exhausting day.

If you can't tell me what you want to see Maxim about,

It's not much good you're sitting here.

You had far better do as I suggest and go round to the estate office in the morning.

' He slid off the arm of the sofa and came towards me,

His glass in his hand.

"'No,

No,

' he said.

"'No,

No,

Don't be a brute.

I've had an exhausting day too.

Don't run away and leave me.

I'm quite harmless,

Really I am.

I suppose Max has been telling tales about me to you.

' I did not answer.

"'You think I'm the big bad wolf,

Don't you?

' he said.

"'But I'm not,

You know.

I'm a perfectly ordinary harmless bloke.

And I think you are behaving splendidly over all this.

Perfectly splendidly.

I take my hat off to you,

I really do.

'" This last speech of his was very slurred and thick.

I wished I had never told Frith I would see him.

"'You come down here to Manderley,

' he said,

Waving his arm vaguely.

"'You take on all this place,

Meet hundreds of people you've never seen before.

You put up with old Max and his moods.

You don't give a fig for anyone,

You just go your own way.

I call it a damn good effort.

And I don't care who hears me say so.

A damn good effort.

'" He swayed a little as he stood.

He steadied himself,

Put the empty glass down on the table.

"'This business has been a shock to me,

You know,

' he said.

"'A bloody awful shock.

Rebecca was my cousin.

I was damn fond of her.

'" "'Yes,

' I said.

"'I'm very sorry for you.

'" "'We were brought up together,

' he went on.

"'Always tremendous pals.

Liked the same things,

The same people.

Laughed at the same jokes.

I suppose I was fonder of Rebecca than anyone else in the world.

And she was fond of me.

All this has been a bloody shock.

'" "'Yes,

' I said.

"'Yes,

Of course.

'" "'And what is Max going to do about it?

That's what I want to know.

Does he think he can sit back quietly now that the sham inquest is over?

Tell me that.

'" He was not smiling anymore.

He bent towards me.

"'I'm going to see justice is done to Rebecca,

' he said,

His voice growing louder.

"'Suicide.

God almighty.

That doddering old fool of a coroner got the jury to say suicide.

You and I know it wasn't suicide.

'" He leant closer to me still.

"'Don't we?

' he said slowly.

The door opened and Maxim came into the room,

With Frank just behind him.

Maxim stood quite still,

With the door open,

Staring at Favell.

"'What the hell are you doing here?

' he said.

Favell turned round,

His hands in his pockets.

He waited a moment.

And then he began to smile.

"'As a matter of fact,

Max,

Old chap,

I came to congratulate you on the inquest this afternoon.

'" "'Do you mind leaving the house?

' said Max.

"'Or do you want Crawley and me to chuck you out?

' "'Steady a moment,

Steady a moment,

' said Favell.

He lit another cigarette and sat down once more on the arm of the sofa.

"'You don't want Frith to hear what I'm going to say,

Do you?

' he said.

"'Well,

He will,

If you don't shut that door.

'" Maxim did not move.

I saw Frank close the door very quietly.

"'Now listen here,

Max,

' said Favell.

"'You've come very well out of this affair,

Haven't you?

Better than you ever expected.

Oh yes,

I was in the court this afternoon,

And I dare say you saw me.

I was there from start to finish.

I saw your wife faint at a rather critical moment,

And I don't blame her.

It was touch and go then,

Wasn't it,

Max?

What way the inquiry would go?

Luckily for you,

It went the way it did.

You hadn't squared those thick-headed fellows who were acting jury,

Had you?

It looked damn like it to me.

'" Maxim made a move towards Favell,

But Favell held up his hand.

"'Wait a bit,

Can't you?

' he said.

"'I haven't finished yet.

You realize,

Don't you,

Max,

Old man,

That I can make things damned unpleasant for you,

If I choose.

Not only unpleasant,

But shall I say,

Dangerous?

' I sat down on the chair beside the fireplace.

I held the arms of the chair very tight.

Frank came over and stood behind the chair.

Still,

Maxim did not move.

He never took his eyes off Favell.

"'Oh yes?

' he said.

"'In what way can you make things dangerous?

' "'Look here,

Max,

' said Favell.

"'I suppose there are no secrets between you and your wife,

And from the look of things.

Crawley there just makes a happy trio.

I can speak plainly then,

And I will.

You all know about Rebecca and me.

We were lovers,

Weren't we?

I've never denied it,

And I never will.

Up to the present,

I believed,

Like every other fool.

That Rebecca was drowned sailing in the bay,

And that her body was picked up at Edgecombe weeks afterwards.

It was a shock to me then,

A bloody shock.

But I said to myself,

That's the sort of death Rebecca would choose.

She'd go out like she lived,

Fighting.

He paused.

He sat there on the edge of the sofa,

Looking at all of us in turn.

Then I pick up the evening paper,

A few days ago,

And I read that Rebecca's boat had been stumbled on by the local diver,

And that there was a body in the cabin.

I couldn't understand it.

Who the hell would Rebecca have as a sailing companion?

It didn't make sense.

I came down here,

And I put up at a pub just outside Carroth.

I got in touch with Mrs.

Danvers.

She told me that the body in the cabin was Rebecca's.

Even so,

I thought like everyone else,

That the first body was a mistake,

And Rebecca had somehow got shut in the cabin when she went to fetch a coat.

Well,

I attended that inquest today,

As you know,

And everything went smoothly,

Didn't it?

Until Tab gave his evidence.

But after that?

Well,

Max,

Old man,

What have you got to say about those holes in the floorboards,

And those sea cocks turned full on?

Do you think,

Said Maxim slowly,

That after those hours of talk this afternoon,

I am going into it again with you?

You heard the evidence,

And you heard the verdict.

It satisfied the coroner,

And it must satisfy you.

Suicide,

Eh?

Said Favell.

Rebecca committing suicide?

The sort of thing she would do,

Wasn't it?

Listen,

You never knew I had this note,

Did you?

I kept it,

Because it was the last thing she ever wrote to me.

I'll read it to you.

I think it will interest you.

He took a piece of paper out of his pocket.

I recognized that thin,

Pointed,

Slanting hand.

I tried to ring you from the flat,

But could get no answer.

He read.

I'm going down to Mander's right away.

I shall be at the cottage this evening,

And if you get this in time,

Will you get the car and follow me?

I'll spend the night at the cottage,

And leave the door open for you.

I've got something to tell you,

And I want to see you as soon as possible.

Rebecca.

He put the note back in his pocket.

That's not the sort of note you write when you're going to commit suicide,

Is it?

He said.

It was waiting for me in my flat when I got back about four in the morning.

I had no idea Rebecca was to be in London that day,

Or I should have got in touch with her.

It happened by a vile stroke of fortune.

I was on a party that night.

When I read the note at four in the morning,

I decided it was too late to go crashing down on a six-hour run to Manderley.

I went to bed,

Determined to put a call through later in the day.

I did,

About twelve o'clock,

And I heard Rebecca had been drowned.

He sat there,

Staring at Maxim.

None of us spoke.

Supposing the coroner this afternoon had read that note,

It would have made it a little bit more tricky for you,

Wouldn't it,

Max,

Old man?

Said Favell.

Well,

Said Maxim,

Why didn't you get up and give it to him?

Steady,

Old boy,

Steady.

No need to get rattled.

I don't want to smash you,

Max.

God knows you've never been a friend to me,

But I don't bear malice about it.

All married men with lovely wives are jealous,

Aren't they?

And some of them just can't help playing Othello.

They're made that way.

I don't blame them.

I'm sorry for them.

I'm a bit of a socialist in my way,

You know.

And I can't think why fellows can't share their women instead of killing them.

What difference does it make?

You can get your fun just the same.

A lovely woman isn't like a motor tire.

She doesn't wear out.

The more you use her,

The better she goes.

Now,

Max,

I've laid all my cards on the table.

Why can't we come to some agreement?

I'm not a rich man.

I'm too fond of gambling for that.

But what gets me down is never having any capital to fall back upon.

Now,

If I had a settlement of two or three thousand a year for life,

I could jog along comfortably.

And I'd never trouble you again.

I swear before God I would not.

I've asked you before to leave the house,

Said Maxim.

I'm not going to ask you again.

There's the door behind me.

You can open it yourself.

Hold on a minute,

Maxim,

Said Frank.

It's not quite so easy as all that,

He turned to Favell.

I see what you're driving at.

It happens,

Very unfortunately,

That you could,

As you say,

Twist things round and make it difficult for Maxim.

I don't think he sees it as clearly as I do.

What is the exact amount you propose Maxim should settle on you?

I saw Maxim go very white,

And a little pulse began to show on his forehead.

Don't interfere with this,

Frank,

He said.

This is my affair entirely.

I'm not going to give way to blackmail.

I don't suppose your wife wants to be pointed out as Mrs.

De Winter,

The widow of a murderer,

Of a fellow who was hanged,

Said Favell.

He laughed and glanced towards me.

You think you can frighten me,

Don't you,

Favell,

Said Maxim.

Well,

You are wrong.

I'm not afraid of anything you can do.

There is a telephone in the next room.

Shall I ring up Colonel Julian and ask him to come over?

He's the magistrate.

He'll be interested in your story.

Favell stared at him and laughed.

Good bluff,

He said,

But it won't work.

You wouldn't dare ring up old Julian.

I've got enough evidence to hang you,

Max,

Old man.

Maxim walked slowly across the room and passed through to the little room beyond.

I heard the click of the telephone.

Stop him,

I said to Frank.

Stop him,

For God's sake.

Frank glanced at my face.

He went swiftly towards the door.

I heard Maxim's voice,

Very cool,

Very calm.

I want Kareth 17,

He said.

Favell was watching the door,

His face curiously intense.

Leave me alone,

I heard Maxim say to Frank,

And then two minutes afterwards.

Is that Colonel Julian speaking?

It's de Winter here.

Yes.

Yes,

I know.

I wonder if you could possibly come over here at once.

Yes,

To Manderley.

It's rather urgent.

I can't explain why on the telephone.

But you shall hear everything directly you come.

I'm very sorry to have to drag you out.

Yes.

Thank you very much.

Goodbye.

He came back again into the room.

Julian is coming right away,

He said.

He crossed over and threw open the windows.

It was still raining very hard.

He stood there,

With his back to us,

Breathing the cold air.

Maxim,

Said Frank quietly.

Maxim.

He did not answer.

Favell laughed,

And helped himself to another cigarette.

If you want to hang yourself,

Old fellow,

It's all the same to me,

He said.

He picked up a paper from the table and flung himself down on the sofa,

Crossed his legs,

And began to turn over the pages.

Frank hesitated,

Glancing from me to Maxim.

Then he came beside me.

Can't you do something?

I whispered.

Go out and meet Colonel Julian?

Prevent him from coming?

Say it was all a mistake?

Maxim spoke from the window without turning round.

Frank is not to leave this room,

He said.

I'm going to manage this thing alone.

Colonel Julian will be here in exactly ten minutes.

We none of us said anything.

Favell went on reading his paper.

There was no sound but the steady falling rain.

It fell without a break,

Steady,

Straight,

And monotonous.

I felt helpless,

Without strength.

There was nothing I could do.

Nothing that Frank could do.

In a book or in a play,

I would have found a revolver,

And we should have shot Favell.

Hidden his body in a cupboard.

There was no revolver.

There was no cupboard.

We were ordinary people.

These things did not happen.

I could not go to Maxim now,

And beg him on my knees to give Favell the money.

I had to sit there,

With my hands in my lap,

Watching the rain.

Watching Maxim with his back turned to me,

Standing by the window.

It was raining too hard to hear the car.

The sound of the rain covered all other sounds.

We did not know Colonel Julian had arrived until the door opened and Frith showed him into the room.

Maxim swung round from the window.

Good evening,

He said.

We meet again.

You've made very good time.

Yes,

Said Colonel Julian.

You said it was urgent,

So I came at once.

Luckily my man had left the car handy.

What an evening.

He glanced at Favell uncertainly,

And then came over and shook hands with me,

Nodding to Maxim.

A good thing the rain has come,

He said.

It's been hanging about too long.

I hope you're feeling better.

I murmured something,

I don't know what,

And he stood there looking from one to the other of us,

Rubbing his hands.

I think you realize,

Maxim said,

That I haven't brought you out on an evening like this for a social half hour before dinner.

This is Jack Favell,

My late wife's first cousin.

I don't know if you have ever met.

Colonel Julian nodded.

Your face seems familiar.

I probably met you here in the old days.

Quite,

Said Maxim.

Go ahead,

Favell.

Favell got up from the sofa and chucked the paper back on the table.

The ten minutes seemed to have sobered him.

He walked quite steadily.

He was not smiling any longer.

I had the impression that he was not entirely pleased with the turn in the events,

And he was ill-prepared for the encounter with Colonel Julian.

He began speaking in a loud,

Rather domineering voice.

Look here,

Colonel Julian,

He said.

There's no sense in beating about the bush.

The reason why I'm here is that I'm not satisfied with the verdict given at the inquest this afternoon.

Oh,

Said Colonel Julian.

Isn't that for Mr.

De Winter to say,

Not you?

No,

I don't think it is,

Said Favell.

I have a right to speak,

Not only as Rebecca's cousin,

But as her prospective husband,

Had she lived.

Colonel Julian looked rather taken aback.

Oh,

He said.

Oh,

I see.

That's rather different.

Is this true,

De Winter?

Maxim shrugged his shoulders.

It's the first I've heard of it,

He said.

Colonel Julian looked from one to the other doubtfully.

Look here,

Favell,

He said.

What exactly is your trouble?

Favell stared at him a moment.

I could see he was planning something in his mind,

And he was still not sober enough to carry it through.

He put his hand slowly in his waistcoat pocket and brought out Rebecca's note.

This note was written a few hours before Rebecca was supposed to have set out on that suicidal sail.

Here it is.

I want you to read it and say whether you think a woman who wrote that note had made up her mind to kill herself.

Colonel Julian took a pair of spectacles from a case in his pocket and read the note.

Then he handed it back to Favell.

No,

He said.

On the face of it,

No.

But I don't know what the note refers to.

Perhaps you do,

Or perhaps de Winter does.

Maxim did not say anything.

Favell twisted the piece of paper in his fingers,

Considering Colonel Julian all the while.

My cousin made a definite appointment in that note,

Didn't she?

He said.

She deliberately asked me to drive down to Manderley that night because she had something to tell me.

What it actually was,

I don't suppose we shall ever know,

But that's beside the point.

She made the appointment,

And she was to spend the night in the cottage,

On purpose to see me alone.

The mere fact of her going for a sail never surprised me.

It was the sort of thing she did,

For an hour or so,

After a long day in London.

But to plug holes in the cabin and deliberately drown herself.

The hysterical,

Impulsive freak of a neurotic girl.

Oh,

No,

Julian.

By Christ,

No.

The color had flooded into his face,

And the last words were shouted.

His manner was not helpful to him,

And I could see,

By the thin line of Colonel Julian's mouth,

That he had not taken to Favell.

My dear fellow,

He said,

It's not the slightest use you're losing your temper with me.

I'm not the coroner who conducted the inquiry this afternoon,

Nor am I a member of the jury who gave the verdict.

I'm merely the magistrate of the district.

Naturally,

I want to help you all I can,

And to Winter,

Too.

You say you refuse to believe your cousin committed suicide.

On the other hand,

You heard,

As we all did,

The evidence of the boat builder.

The seacocks were open,

The holes were there.

Very well.

Suppose we get to the point.

What do you suggest really happened?

Favell turned his head.

Looked slowly towards Maxim.

He was still twisting the note between his fingers.

Rebecca never opened those seacocks,

Nor split the holes in the planking.

Rebecca never committed suicide.

You've asked for my opinion,

And by God you shall have it.

Rebecca was murdered,

And if you want to know who the murderer is,

Why,

There he stands,

By the window there,

With that goddamn superior smile on his face.

He couldn't even wait,

Could he,

Until the year was out,

Before marrying the first girl he set his eyes on.

There he is.

There's your murderer for you,

Mr.

Maximillian D.

Winter.

Take a good long look at him.

He'd look well hanging,

Wouldn't he?

And Favell began to laugh,

The laugh of a drunkard.

High-pitched,

Forced,

And foolish,

And all the while twisting Rebecca's note between his fingers.

Chapter 24 Thank God for Favell's laugh.

Thank God for his pointing finger,

His flushed face,

His staring,

Bloodshot eyes.

Thank God for the way he stood there,

Swaying on his two feet.

Because it made Colonel Julian antagonistic,

It put him on our side.

I saw the disgust on his face,

The quick movement of his lips.

Colonel Julian did not believe him.

Colonel Julian was on our side.

The man's drunk,

He said quickly.

He doesn't know what he's saying.

Drunk,

Am I?

Shouted Favell.

Oh no,

My fine friend.

You may be a magistrate and a colonel into the bargain,

But it won't cut any ice with me.

I've got the law on my side for a change,

And I'm going to use it.

There are other magistrates in this bloody county besides you,

Fellows with brains in their heads,

Who understand the meaning of justice.

Not soldiers who got the sack years ago for incompetence and walk about with a string of putty medals on their chest.

Max DeWinter murdered Rebecca,

And I'm going to prove it.

Wait a minute,

Mr.

Favell,

Said Colonel Julian quietly.

You were present at the inquiry this afternoon,

Weren't you?

I remember you now.

I saw you sitting there.

If you felt so deeply about the injustice of the verdict,

Why didn't you say so then to the jury,

To the coroner himself?

Why didn't you produce that letter in court?

Favell stared at him and laughed.

Why,

He said.

Because I did not choose to,

That's why.

I preferred to come and tackle DeWinter personally.

That's why I rang you up,

Said Maxim,

Coming forward from the window.

We've already heard Favell's accusations.

I asked him the same question.

Why didn't he tell us suspicions to the coroner?

He said he was not a rich man,

And that if I cared to settle two or three thousand on him for life,

He would never worry me again.

Frank was here,

And my wife.

They both heard him.

Ask them.

It's perfectly true,

Sir,

Said Frank.

It's blackmail,

Pure and simple.

Yes,

Of course,

Said Colonel Julian.

The trouble is that blackmail is not very pure.

Nor is it particularly simple.

It can make a lot of unpleasantness for a great many people,

Even if the blackmailer finds himself in jail at the end of it.

Sometimes innocent people find themselves in jail as well.

We want to avoid that in this case.

I don't know whether you are sufficiently sober,

Favell,

To answer my questions.

And if you keep off irrelevant personalities,

We may get through with the business quicker.

You have just made a serious accusation against DeWinter.

Have you any proof to back that accusation?

Proof?

Said Favell.

What the hell do you want with proof?

Aren't those holes in the boat proof enough?

Certainly not,

Said Colonel Julian.

Unless you can bring a witness who saw him do it.

Where's your witness?

Witness be damned,

Said Favell.

Of course DeWinter did it.

Who else would kill Rebecca?

Kerith has a large population,

Said Colonel Julian.

Why not go from door to door,

Making inquiries?

I might have done it myself.

You appear to have no more proof against DeWinter there than you would have against me.

Oh,

I see,

Said Favell.

You're going to hold his hand through this.

You're going to back DeWinter.

You won't let him down because you've dined with him,

And he's dined with you.

He's a big name down here.

He's the owner of Manderly.

You poor bloody little snob.

Take care,

Favell.

Take care.

You think you can get the better of me,

Don't you?

You think I've got no case to bring to a court of law.

I'll get my proof for you,

All right.

I tell you,

DeWinter killed Rebecca because of me.

He knew I was her lover.

He was jealous,

Madly jealous.

He knew she was waiting for me at the cottage on the beach,

And he went down that night and killed her.

Then he put her body in the boat and sank her.

Quite a clever story,

Favell,

In its way,

But I repeat again,

You have no proof.

Produce your witness who saw it happen,

And I might begin to take you seriously.

I know that cottage on the beach.

A sort of picnic place,

Isn't it?

Mrs.

DeWinter used to keep the gear there for the boat.

It would help your story if you could turn it into a bungalow with 50 replicas alongside of it.

There would be a chance then that one of the inhabitants might have seen the whole affair.

Hold on,

Said Favell.

Hold on.

There is a chance DeWinter might have been seen that night.

Quite a good chance,

Too.

It's worth finding out.

What would you say if I did produce a witness?

Colonel Julian shrugged his shoulders.

I saw Frank glance inquiringly at Maxim.

Maxim did not say anything.

He was watching Favell.

I suddenly knew what Favell meant.

I knew who he was talking about.

And in a flash of fear and horror,

I knew that he was right.

There had been a witness that night.

Little sentences came back to me.

Words I had not understood.

Phrases I believed to be the fragments of a poor idiot's mind.

She's down there,

Isn't she?

She won't come back again.

I didn't tell no one.

They'll find her there,

Won't they?

The fishes have eaten her,

Haven't they?

She'll not come back no more.

Ben knew.

Ben had seen.

Ben,

With his queer,

Crazed brain,

Had been a witness all the time.

He had been hiding in the woods that night.

He had seen Maxim take the boat from the moorings and pull back in the dinghy alone.

I knew all the color was draining from my face.

I leant back against the cushion of the chair.

There's a local halfwit who spends his time on the beach,

Said Favell.

He was always hanging about when I used to come down and meet Rebecca.

I've often seen him.

He used to sleep in the woods.

Or on the beach when the nights were hot.

The fellows cracked.

He would never have come forward on his own.

But I could make him talk if he did see anything that night.

And there's a bloody big chance he did.

Who is this?

What's he talking about?

Said Colonel Julian.

He must mean Ben,

Said Frank,

With another glance at Maxim.

He's the son of one of our tenants.

But the man's not responsible for what he says or does.

He's been an idiot since birth.

What the hell does that matter?

Said Favell.

He's got eyes,

Hasn't he?

He knows what he sees.

He's only got to answer yes or no.

You're getting windy now,

Aren't you?

Not so mighty confident.

Can we get hold of this fellow and question him?

Asked Colonel Julian.

Of course,

Said Maxim.

Tell Robert to cut down to his mother's cottage,

Frank,

And bring him back.

Frank hesitated.

I saw him glance at me out of the tail of his eye.

Go on,

For God's sake,

Said Maxim.

We want to end this thing,

Don't we?

Frank went out of the room.

I began to feel the old nagging pain beneath my heart.

In a few minutes,

Frank came back again into the room.

Robert's taken my car,

He said.

If Ben is at home,

He won't be more than 10 minutes.

The rain will keep him at home,

All right,

Said Favell.

He'll be there.

And I think you will find I shall be able to make him talk.

He laughed and looked at Maxim.

His face was still very flushed.

Excitement had made him sweat.

There were beads of perspiration on his forehead.

I noticed how his neck bulged over the back of his collar,

And how low his ears were set on his head.

Those good looks would not last him very long.

Already he was out of condition,

Puffy.

He helped himself to another cigarette.

You're like a little trade union here at Manderley,

Aren't you?

He said.

No one going to give anyone else away.

Even the local magistrate is on the same racket.

We must exempt the bride,

Of course.

A wife doesn't give evidence against her husband.

Crawley,

Of course,

Has been squared.

He knows he would lose his job if he told the truth.

And if I guess rightly,

There's a spice of malice in his soul towards me.

You didn't have much success with Rebecca,

Did you,

Crawley?

That garden path wasn't quite long enough,

Eh?

It's a bit easier this time,

Isn't it?

The bride will be grateful for your fraternal arm every time she faints.

When she hears the judge sentence her husband to death,

That arm of yours will come in very handy.

It happened very quickly.

Too quick for me to see how Maxim did it.

But I saw Favell stagger and fall against the arm of the sofa,

And down onto the floor,

And Maxim was standing just beside him.

I felt rather sick.

There was something degrading in the fact that Maxim had hit Favell.

I wished I had not known.

I wished I had not been there to see.

Colonel Julian did not say anything.

He looked very grim.

He turned his back on them and came and stood beside me.

I think you had better go upstairs,

He said quietly.

I shook my head.

No,

I whispered,

No.

That fellow is in a state capable of saying anything,

He said.

What you have just seen was not very attractive,

Was it?

Your husband was right,

Of course,

But it's a pity you saw it.

I did not answer.

I was watching Favell,

Who was getting slowly to his feet.

He sat down heavily on the sofa and put his handkerchief to his face.

Get me a drink.

He said.

Get me a drink.

Maxim looked at Frank.

Frank went out of the room.

None of us spoke.

In a moment,

Frank came back with the whiskey and soda on a tray.

He mixed them in a glass and gave it to Favell.

Favell drank it greedily,

Like an animal.

There was something sensual and horrible the way he put his mouth to the glass.

His lips folded upon the glass in a peculiar way.

There was a dark red patch on his jaw where Maxim had hit him.

Maxim had turned his back on him again and had returned to the window.

I glanced at Colonel Julian and saw that he was looking at Maxim.

His gaze was curious,

Intent.

My heart began beating very quickly.

Why did Colonel Julian look at Maxim in that way?

Did it mean that he was beginning to wonder,

To suspect?

Maxim did not see.

He was watching the rain.

It fell straight and steady as before.

The sound filled the room.

Favell finished his whiskey and soda and put the glass back on the table beside the sofa.

He was breathing heavily.

He did not look at any of us.

He was staring straight in front of him at the floor.

The telephone began ringing in the little room.

It struck a shrill,

Discordant note.

Frank went to answer it.

He came back at once and looked at Colonel Julian.

It's your daughter,

He said.

They want to know if they are to keep dinner back.

Colonel Julian waved his hand impatiently.

Tell them to start,

He said.

Tell them I don't know when I shall be back.

He glanced at his watch.

Fancy ringing up,

He muttered.

What a moment to choose.

Frank went back into the little room to give the message.

I thought of the daughter at the other end of the telephone.

It would be the one who played golf.

I could imagine her calling to her sister.

Dad says we're to start.

What on earth can he be doing?

The stake will be like leather.

Their little household disorganized because of this.

Their evening routine upset.

All these foolish,

Inconsequent threads hanging upon one another because Maxim had killed Rebecca.

I looked at Frank.

His face was pale and set.

I heard Robert coming back with the car,

He said to Colonel Julian.

The window in there looks onto the drive.

He went out of the library to the hall.

Favell had lifted his head when he spoke.

Then he got to his feet once more and stood looking towards the door.

There was a queer,

Ugly smile on his face.

The door opened and Frank came in.

He turned and spoke to someone in the hall outside.

All right,

Ben,

He said quietly.

Mr.

DeWinter wants to give you some cigarettes.

There's nothing to be frightened of.

Ben stepped awkwardly into the room.

He had a souwester in his hands.

He looked odd and naked without his hat.

I realized for the first time that his head was shaved all over and he had no hair.

He looked different,

Dreadful.

The light seemed to daze him.

He glanced foolishly around the room,

Blinking his small eyes.

He caught sight of me and I gave him a weak,

Rather tremulous smile.

I don't know if he recognized me or not.

He just blinked his eyes.

Then Favell walked slowly towards him and stood in front of him.

Hello,

He said.

How's life treated you since we last met?

Ben stared at him.

There was no recognition on his face.

He did not answer.

Well,

Said Favell,

You know who I am,

Don't you?

Ben went on twisting his souwester.

Eh,

He said.

Have a cigarette,

Said Favell,

Handing him the box.

Ben glanced at Maxim and Frank.

All right,

Said Maxim,

Take as many as you like.

Ben took four and stuck two behind each ear.

Then he stood,

Twisting his cap again.

You know who I am,

Don't you?

Repeated Favell.

Still,

Ben did not answer.

Colonel Julian walked across to him.

You shall go home in a few moments,

Ben,

He said.

No one is going to hurt you.

We just want you to answer one or two questions.

You know Mr.

Favell,

Don't you?

This time Ben shook his head.

I never seen him,

He said.

Don't be a bloody fool,

Said Favell roughly.

You know you've seen me.

You've seen me go to the cottage on the beach.

Mrs.

De Winter's cottage.

You've seen me there,

Haven't you?

No,

Said Ben.

I never seen no one.

You damned half-witted liar,

Said Favell.

Are you going to stand there and say you never saw me?

Last year?

Walk through those woods with Mrs.

De Winter and go into the cottage?

Didn't we catch you once,

Peering at us from the window?

Eh?

Said Ben.

A convincing witness,

Said Colonel Julian sarcastically.

Favell swung round on him.

It's a put-up job,

He said.

Someone has got at this idiot and bribed him too.

I tell you,

He's seen me scores of times.

Here,

Will this make you remember?

He fumbled in his hip pocket and brought out a note case.

He flourished a pound note in front of Ben.

Now,

Do you remember me?

He said.

Ben shook his head.

I never seen none,

He said.

And then he took hold of Frank's arm.

Has he come here to take me to the asylum?

He said.

No,

Said Frank.

No,

Of course not,

Ben.

I don't want to go to the asylum,

Said Ben.

Them cruel to folk in there.

I want to stay home.

I done nothing.

That's alright,

Ben,

Said Colonel Julian.

No one's going to put you in the asylum.

Are you quite sure you've never seen this man before?

No,

Said Ben.

I've never seen none.

You remember Mrs.

De Winter,

Don't you?

Said Colonel Julian.

Ben glanced doubtfully towards me.

No,

Said Colonel Julian gently.

Not this lady.

The other lady who used to go to the cottage.

Eh,

Said Ben.

You remember the lady who had the boat?

Ben blinked his eyes.

She's gone,

He said.

Yes,

We know that.

Said Colonel Julian.

She used to sell the boat,

Didn't she?

Were you on the beach when she sold the boat the last time?

One evening,

Over twelve months ago,

When she didn't come back again?

Ben twisted his salwester.

He glanced at Frank,

And then at Maxim.

Eh,

He said.

You were there,

Weren't you?

Said Favell,

Leaning forward.

You saw Mrs.

De Winter come down to the cottage.

And presently you saw Mr.

De Winter,

Too.

He went into the cottage after her.

What happened then?

Go on,

What happened?

Ben shrank back against the wall.

I see nothing,

He said.

I want to stay home.

I'm not going to the asylum.

I never seen you.

Never before.

I never seen you and she in the woods.

He began to blubber like a child.

You crazy little rat,

Said Favell slowly.

You bloody crazy little rat.

Ben was wiping his eyes with a sleeve of his coat.

Your witness does not seem to have helped you,

Said Colonel Julian.

The performance has been rather a waste of time,

Hasn't it?

Do you want to ask him anything else?

It's a plot,

Shouted Favell.

A plot against me.

You're all in it,

Every one of you.

Someone's paid this halfwit,

I tell you.

Paid him to tell a string of dirty lies.

I think Ben might be allowed to go home.

All right,

Ben,

Said Maxim.

Robert shall take you back.

And no one will put you in the asylum,

Don't be afraid.

Tell Robert to find him something in the kitchen,

He added to Frank.

Some cold meat,

Whatever he fancies.

Payment for services rendered,

Eh?

Said Favell.

He's done a good day's work for you,

Max,

Hasn't he?

Frank took Ben out of the room.

Colonel Julian glanced at Maxim.

The fellow appeared to be scared stiff,

He said.

He was shaking like a leaf.

I was watching him.

He's never been ill-treated,

Has he?

No,

Said Maxim.

He's perfectly harmless.

And I've always let him have the run of the place.

He's been frightened at some time,

Said Colonel Julian.

He was showing the whites of his eyes.

Just like a dog does when you're going to whip him.

Well,

Why didn't you?

Said Favell.

He'd have remembered me all right if you'd whipped him.

Oh,

No.

He's going to be given a good supper for his work tonight.

Ben's not going to be whipped.

He has not helped your case,

Has he?

Said Colonel Julian quietly.

We're still where we were.

You can't produce one shred of evidence against De Winter and you know it.

The very motive you gave won't stand the test.

In a court of law,

Favell,

You wouldn't have a leg to stand on.

You say you were Mrs.

De Winter's prospective husband,

And that you held clandestine meetings with her in that cottage on the beach.

Even the poor idiot we have just had in this room swears he never saw you.

You can't even prove your own story,

Can you?

Can't I?

Said Favell.

I saw him smile.

He came across to the fireplace and rang the bell.

What are you doing?

Said Colonel Julian.

Wait a moment and you'll see.

Said Favell.

I guessed already what was going to happen.

Frith answered the bell.

Ask Mrs.

Danvers to come here.

Said Favell.

Frith glanced at Maxim.

Maxim nodded shortly.

Frith went out of the room.

Isn't Mrs.

Danvers the housekeeper?

Said Colonel Julian.

She was also Rebecca's personal friend.

Said Favell.

She was with her for years before she married and practically brought her up.

You are going to find Danny a very different sort of witness to Ben.

Frank came back into the room.

Packed Ben off to bed,

Said Favell.

Given him his supper and told him he was a good boy?

This time it won't be quite so easy for the trade union.

Mrs.

Danvers is coming down,

Said Colonel Julian.

Favell seems to think he will get something out of her.

Frank glanced quickly at Maxim.

Colonel Julian saw the glance.

I saw his lips tighten.

I did not like it.

No,

I did not like it.

I began biting my nails.

We all waited,

Watching the door.

And Mrs.

Danvers came into the room.

Perhaps it was because I had generally seen her alone,

And beside me she had seemed tall and gaunt.

But she looked shrunken now in size,

More wizened.

And I noticed she had to look up to Favell,

And to Frank,

And to Maxim.

She stood by the door,

Her hands folded in front of her,

Looking from one to the other of us.

Good evening,

Mrs.

Danvers,

Said Colonel Julian.

Good evening,

Sir,

She said.

Her voice was that old,

Dead,

Mechanical one I had heard so often.

First of all,

Mrs.

Danvers,

I want to ask you a question,

Said Colonel Julian.

And the question is this,

Were you aware of the relationship between the late Mrs.

De Winter and Mr.

Favell here?

They were first cousins,

Said Mrs.

Danvers.

I was not referring to blood relationship,

Mrs.

Danvers,

Said Colonel Julian.

I mean something closer than that.

I'm afraid I don't understand,

Sir,

Said Mrs.

Danvers.

Oh,

Come off it,

Dani,

Said Favell.

You know damn well what he's driving at.

I have told Colonel Julian already,

But he doesn't seem to believe me.

Rebecca and I had lived together off and on for years,

Hadn't we?

She was in love with me,

Wasn't she?

To my surprise,

Mrs.

Danvers considered him a moment without speaking,

And there was something of scorn in the glance she gave him.

She was not,

She said.

Listen here,

You old fool,

Began Favell,

But Mrs.

Danvers cut him short.

She was not in love with you or with Mr.

De Winter.

She was not in love with anyone.

She despised all men.

She was above all that.

Favell flushed angrily.

Listen here,

Didn't she come down the path through the woods to meet me night after night?

Didn't you wait up for her?

Didn't she spend the weekends with me in London?

Well,

Said Mrs.

Danvers,

With sudden passion,

And what if she did?

She had a right to amuse herself,

Hadn't she?

Lovemaking was a game with her,

Only a game.

She told me so.

She did it because it made her laugh.

It made her laugh,

I tell you.

She laughed at you like she did at the rest.

I've known her come back and sit upstairs in her bed and rock with laughter at the lot of you.

There was something horrible in the sudden torrent of words.

Something horrible and unexpected.

It revolted me,

Even though I knew.

Maxim had gone very white.

Favell stared at her blankly,

As though he had not understood.

Colonel Julian tugged at a small mustache.

No one said anything for a few minutes.

And there was no sound but that inevitable falling rain.

Then,

Mrs.

Danvers began to cry.

She cried like she had done that morning in the bedroom.

I could not look at her.

I had to turn away.

No one said anything.

There were just the two sounds in the room,

The falling rain and Mrs.

Danvers crying.

It made me want to scream.

I wanted to run out of the room and scream and scream.

No one moved towards her to say anything or to help her.

She went on crying.

Then at last,

It seemed eternity.

She began to control herself.

Little by little,

The crying ceased.

She stood quite still,

Her face working,

Her hands clutching the black stuff of her frock.

At last,

She was silent again.

Then,

Colonel Julian spoke,

Quietly,

Slowly.

Mrs.

Danvers,

He said,

Can you think of any reason,

However remote,

Why Mrs.

DeWinter should have taken her own life?

Mrs.

Danvers swallowed.

She went on clutching at her frock.

She shook her head.

No,

She said,

No.

There,

You see,

Favell said swiftly.

It's impossible.

She knows that as well as I do.

I've told you already.

Be quiet,

Will you?

Said Colonel Julian.

Give Mrs.

Danvers time to think.

We all of us agree that on the face of it,

The thing's absurd,

Out of the question.

I'm not disputing the truth or veracity of that note of yours.

It's plain for us to see.

She wrote you that note sometime during those hours she spent in London.

There was something she wanted to tell you.

It's just possible that if we knew what that something was,

We might have the answer to the whole appalling problem.

Let Mrs.

Danvers read the note.

She may be able to throw light on it.

Favell shrugged his shoulders.

He felt in his pocket for the note and threw it on the floor at Mrs.

Danvers' feet.

She stooped and picked it up.

We watched her lips move as she read the words.

She read it twice.

Then she shook her head.

It's no use,

She said.

I don't know what she meant.

If there was something important she had to tell Mr.

Jack,

She would have told me first.

You never saw her that night?

No,

I was out.

I was spending the afternoon and evening in Carroth.

I shall never forgive myself for that.

Never till my dying day.

Then you know of nothing on her mind.

You can't suggest a solution,

Mrs.

Danvers.

Those words,

I have something to tell you,

Do not convey anything to you at all.

No,

She answered.

No,

Sir,

Nothing at all.

Does anybody know how she spent that day in London?

Nobody answered.

Maxim shook his head.

Favell swore under his breath.

Look here.

She left that note at my flat at three in the afternoon,

He said.

The porter saw her.

She must have driven down here straight after that.

And gone like the wind,

Too.

Mrs.

De Winter had a hair appointment from twelve until one-thirty,

Said Mrs.

Danvers.

I remember that because I had to telephone through to London from here earlier in the week and book it for her.

I remember doing it.

Twelve to one-thirty.

She always lunched at her club after a hair appointment so that she could leave the pins in her hair.

It's almost certain she lunched there that day.

Say it took her half an hour to have lunch.

What was she doing from two until three?

We ought to verify that,

Said Colonel Julian.

Oh,

Christ Jesus.

Who the hell cares what she was doing,

Shouted Favell.

She didn't kill herself.

That's the only thing that matters,

Isn't it?

I've got her engagement diary locked in my room,

Said Mrs.

Danvers slowly.

I kept all those things.

Mr.

De Winter never asked me for them.

It's just possible she may have noted down her appointments for that day.

She was methodical in that way.

She used to put everything down and then tick the items off with a cross.

If you think it would be helpful,

I'll go and fetch the diary.

Well,

De Winter,

Said Colonel Julian.

What do you say?

Do you mind us seeing this diary?

Of course not,

Said Maxim.

Why on earth should I?

Once again,

I saw Colonel Julian give him that swift,

Curious glance.

And this time Frank noticed it.

I saw Frank look at Maxim,

Too,

And then back again to me.

This time it was I who got up and went towards the window.

It seemed to me that it was no longer raining quite so hard.

The fury was spent.

The rain that was falling now had a quieter,

Softer note.

The gray light of evening had come into the sky.

The lawns were dark and drenched with the heavy rain,

And the trees had a shrouded,

Humped appearance.

I could hear the housemaid overhead drawing the curtains for the night,

Shutting down the windows that had not been closed already.

The little routine of the day going on inevitably as it had always done.

The curtains drawn,

Shoes taken down to be cleaned,

The towel laid out on the chair in the bathroom,

And the water run from my bath.

Beds turned down,

Slippers put beneath a chair,

And here we were in the library,

None of us speaking.

Knowing in our hearts that Maxim was standing trial here for his life.

I turned round when I heard the soft closing of the door.

It was Mrs.

Danvers.

She had come back again with the diary in her hand.

I was right,

She said quietly.

She had marked down the engagements as I said she would.

Here they are on the date she died.

She opened the diary,

A small,

Red leather book.

She gave it to Colonel Julian.

Once more he brought his spectacles from his case.

There was a long pause while he glanced down the page.

It seemed to me then that there was something about that particular moment,

When he looked at the page of the diary,

And we stood waiting,

That frightened me more than anything that had happened that evening.

I dug my nails in my hands.

I could not look at Maxim.

Surely Colonel Julian must hear my heart beating and thumping in my breast.

Ah,

He said.

His finger was in the middle of the page.

Something is going to happen,

I thought.

Something terrible is going to happen.

Yes,

He said.

Yes,

Here it is.

Here at twelve,

As Mrs.

Danvers said,

And across beside it.

She kept her appointment then.

Lunch at the club,

And across beside that.

What have we here,

Though?

Baker,

Two o'clock.

Who is Baker?

He looked at Maxim.

Maxim shook his head.

Then at Mrs.

Danvers.

Baker,

Repeated Mrs.

Danvers.

She knew no one called Baker.

I have never heard the name before.

Well,

Here it is,

Said Colonel Julian,

Handing her the diary.

You can see for yourself,

Baker.

And she's put a great cross beside it,

As though she wanted to break the pencil.

She evidently saw this Baker,

Whoever he may have been.

Mrs.

Danvers was staring at the name written in the diary,

And the black cross beside it.

Baker,

She said.

Baker.

I believe if we knew who Baker was,

We'd be getting to the bottom of this whole business,

Said Colonel Julian.

She wasn't in the hands of moneylenders,

Was she?

Mrs.

Danvers looked at him with scorn.

Mrs.

De Winter,

She said.

Well,

Blackmailers,

Perhaps,

Said Colonel Julian,

With a glance at Favell.

Mrs.

Danvers shook her head.

Baker,

She repeated.

Baker.

She had no enemy?

No one who had ever threatened her?

No one she was afraid of?

Mrs.

De Winter afraid,

Said Mrs.

Danvers.

She was afraid of nothing and no one.

There was only one thing ever worried her,

And that was the idea of getting old,

Of illness,

Of dying in her bed.

She has told me a score of times,

When I go Danny,

I want to go quickly,

Like the snuffing out of a candle.

That used to be the only thing that consoled me after she died.

They say drowning is painless,

Don't they?

She looked searchingly at Colonel Julian.

He did not answer.

He hesitated,

Tugging at his mustache.

I saw him throw another glance at Maxim.

What's the hell the use of all of this,

Said Favell,

Coming forward.

We're stricking away from the point the whole bloody time.

Who cares about this Baker fellow?

What's he got to do with it?

It was probably some damn merchant who sold stockings or face cream.

If he had been anyone important,

Danny here would know him.

Rebecca had no secrets from Danny.

But I was watching Mrs.

Danvers.

She had the book in her hands and was turning the leaves.

Suddenly,

She gave an exclamation.

There's something here,

She said,

Right at the back,

Among the telephone numbers.

Baker.

And there's a number beside it,

0488.

But there is no exchange.

Brilliant,

Danny,

Said Favell.

Becoming quite a sleuth in your old age,

Aren't you?

But you're just twelve months too late.

If you'd done this a year ago,

There might have been some use in it.

That's his number,

All right,

Said Colonel Julian.

0488,

And the name Baker beside it.

Why didn't she put the exchange?

Try every exchange in London,

Jeered Favell.

It will take you through the night,

But we don't mind.

Max doesn't care if his telephone bill is a hundred pounds,

Do you,

Max?

You want to play for time,

And so should I,

If I were in your shoes.

There is a mark beside the number,

But it might mean anything,

Said Colonel Julian.

Take a look at it,

Mrs.

Danvers.

Could it possibly be an M?

Mrs.

Danvers took the diary in her hands again.

It might be,

She said doubtfully.

It's not like her usual M,

But she may have scribbled it in a hurry.

Yes,

It might be M.

Mayfair,

0488,

Said Favell.

What a genius,

What a brain.

Well,

Said Maxim,

Lighting his first cigarette.

Something had better be done about it.

Frank,

Go through and ask the exchange from Mayfair,

0488.

The nagging pain was strong beneath my heart.

I stood quite still,

My hands by my side.

Maxim did not look at me.

Go on,

Frank,

He said.

What are you waiting for?

Frank went through to the little room beyond.

We waited while he called the exchange.

In a moment he was back again.

They're going to ring me,

He said quietly.

Colonel Julian clasped his hands behind his back and began walking up and down the room.

No one said anything.

After about four minutes,

The telephone rang shrill and insistent.

That irritating,

Monotonous note of a long-distance call.

Frank went through to answer it.

Is that Mayfair,

0488?

He said.

Can you tell me if anyone of the name of Baker lives there?

Oh,

I see.

I'm so sorry.

Yes,

I must have got the wrong number.

Thank you very much.

The little click as he replaced the receiver.

Then he came back into the room.

Someone called Lady Eastley lives at Mayfair,

0488.

It's an address in Grosvenor Street.

They've never heard of Baker.

Favell gave a great cackle of laughter.

The butcher,

The baker,

The candlestick maker.

They all jumped out of a rotten potato,

He said.

Carry on,

Detective Number One.

What's the next exchange on the list?

Try Museum,

Said Mrs.

Danvers.

Frank glanced at Maxim.

Go ahead,

Said Maxim.

The farce was repeated all over again.

Colonel Julian repeated his walk up and down the room.

Another five minutes went by,

And the telephone rang again.

Frank went to answer it.

He left the door wide open.

I could see him lean down to the table where the telephone stood and bend to the mouthpiece.

Hello,

Is that Museum,

0488?

Can you tell me if anyone of the name of Baker lives there?

Oh,

Who is that speaking?

A night porter,

Yes.

Yes,

I understand.

Not offices?

No,

No,

Of course.

Can you give me the address?

Yes,

It's rather important.

He paused.

He called to us over his shoulder.

I think we've got him,

He said.

Oh God,

Don't let it be true.

Don't let Baker be found.

Please God,

Make Baker be dead.

I knew who Baker was.

I had known all along.

I watched Frank through the door.

I watched him lean forward suddenly,

Reach for a pencil and a piece of paper.

Hello.

Yes,

I'm still here.

Could you spell it?

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Good night.

He came back into the room,

The piece of paper in his hands.

Frank,

Who loved Maxim,

Who did not know that the piece of paper he held was the one shred of evidence that was worth a damn in the whole nightmare of our evening,

And that by producing it,

He could destroy Maxim as well,

And truly,

As though he had a dagger in his hand and stabbed him in the back.

It was the night porter from an address in Bloomsbury,

He said.

There are no residents there at all.

The place is used during the day as doctors' consulting rooms.

Apparently,

Baker's given up practice and left six months ago,

But we can get hold of him,

All right.

The night porter gave me his address.

I wrote it down on this piece of paper.

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