In the Best Families

“Yes, of course. She sent him a glance and returned to me. “I told her I thought she was completely wrong. I said that if her husband had been untrue to her, or anything like that, that would be different, but after all he hadn't done wrong to her, only to other people and himself, and that she should try to help him instead of destroying him. At the very least, I said, she should wait until she knew all the details of what he had done. I think that was what she wanted to hear, but she didn't say so. She was very stubborn. Then, that afternoon, I said something that I will regret all my life. I went to Barry and told him she had told me about it, and said I was sure it would come out all right if he would meet her half-way-tell her the whole thing, tell her he was sorry, as he certainly should be-and no more foolishness in the future. And

Barry said he loved me.

She weakened a little there for the first time. She dropped her eyes. I had been boring at her with as steady and sharp a gaze as I had in me, but up to that point she had met it full and fair.

“So then? I asked.

Her eyes lifted and she marched on. “He said he didn't want it to come out all right because he loved me. Shall I try to tell you what I-how I felt?

“Not now. Just what happened.

“Nothing happened then. That was in the middle of the afternoon. I didn't tell

Barry I loved him-I didn't even know I loved him then. I got away from him.

Later we gathered in the living-room for cocktails, and you and Mr Leeds came, and we played that game-you remember.

“Yep, I do.

“And dinner, and television afterward, and-

“Excuse me. That is common knowledge. Skip to later, when the cops had come. Did you tell them all this?

“No.

“Why not?

“Because I didn't think it would be fair to Barry. I didn't think he had killed her, and I didn't know what criminal things he had helped with, and I thought it wouldn't be fair to tell that about him when all I knew was what Mrs Rackham had told me. The fine eyes flashed for the first time. “Oh, I know the next part.

Then why am I telling it now? Because I know more about him now-a great deal more! I don't know that he killed Mrs Rackham, but I know he could have; he is cruel and selfish and unscrupulous-there is nothing he wouldn't do. I suppose you think I'm vindictive, and maybe I am, but it doesn't matter what you think about me as long as I'm telling the truth. What the criminal things were that he did, and whether he killed his wife-I don't know anything about it; that's your part.