Fragment of Fear Page #4

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to upset you, I'm sorry. It wasn't only

what was in the envelope. It was also the fact that you made

a complaint about me to the police. Police? You told them I'd made indecent

suggestions to you on the train. Now, I'm not coming out of here until you promise not to take your clothes off

and start screaming the place down. Who gave you that envelope? We were never used like this before. Who's we? The stepping stones. Who are you? No. Who are the stepping stones? I only came here

to make my peace with you. I've taken up my religion again. Well, then you can start by being

a good Christian and telling me the truth. I don't know what the truth is. Ask mr copsey. He's the probation officer. He's retired now. In Addison road. Have you forgiven me, mr Brett? Yes. Then, may I pass? I think we must have been taken over. That's a worm, Kenny. I know. Well, put it back where you found it. I found it in the salad. Run away, run away. Hardly the moment to ask whether

you'd care to stay to lunch. That's very kind of you.

I have to go and pick up a licence. A special licence.

I'm getting married. Congratulations. In any case, I don't want

to waste your time. You can't very well waste

a retired man's time, mr Brett. - Where and when?

- What? The happy ceremony. Oh, we're at st barthrop's

in the cromwell road, about midday on Saturday. Saturday. That's the day Kenny's paying

his first visit to the reptile house. You know, he's never seen

a wedding either. I wonder whether we might come?

Do you think we might? I'd be absolutely delighted. Thank you. I think your aunt Lucy

would have liked that. You know, it's very pleasant to have

a little personal chat about her at last I mean, with a relative, of course. Would you like to sit down? Naturally the police

were only interested in facts. I'll tell you what appealed to me as

a probation officer were her motives. Grandad.

Do worms have hearts? Do worms have...? Of course.

I don't know. Well, I suppose so. Every animal has a heart, hasn't it? Oh, I should think so, yes. - Yes, yes.

- Do gnats? Do gnats? Do you mind taking the worm

back to the vegetable garden? And then run and find your mother?

Where was I? You were talking about her motives. Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Well, what brought us together in the first place

was the young burglar who shot her husband. One of my charges, I'm afraid.

Not a very successful one. She came to me with a load of

burning hatred for the lad, indeed, the entire criminal class. A hatred which she

very sensibly wished to exorcise by trying to understand them. After all, the poor woman adored

her husband, this side of idolatry. It was about that moment,

i would say, that the stepping stones were born. Who were the stepping stones,

mr copsey? Oh, they were to be a sort of

living memorial to major Dawson. Only the two of us, to begin with. She asked me to keep my eye open

for intelligent young first offenders who might make careers for

themselves when they came out. Then she began to cast her

charitable net a little wider. I introduced her to

a couple of prison governors, they put her in touch with others. Women's prisons, too. It must have been very difficult

to find them jobs. Oh yes, especially the

high grade types Lucy was after. Those who could get

to the top of the tree. The trouble is, there are

some trees that ex-jailbirds aren't even allowed to start climbing. Banks are a bit tricky, naturally, but Lucy was a remarkable woman. Well, what kind of people were they? Well, I couldn't mention

their names, of course. It would be a breach

of trust, but, er... They did well in their field.

Some very well. Hah. Lucky we were honest. Lucy, mrs gray, and myself. Would seem to me like a

perfect opportunity for blackmail. Precisely. You don't understand

what I'm trying to tell you. I do not subscribe

to the evening standard. I buy it, yes.

But I don't subscribe to it. I don't have it delivered. So it was put through my letter box by somebody who

wanted to draw my attention... Mr Brett, we aren't investigating

the death of mrs Dawson. We are investigating

the death of an unknown woman whom you were the

last person to see alive. Yes, I understand that.

But don't you realise they're connected? It all ties in with the report

that I gave to sergeant Matthews. The note that was typed

on my own typewriter. The complaint that she made. The laugh on the tape recorder, and the voices on the telephone,

and the cigarette stubs. And the fact that she was killed

immediately after I saw her. And now the newspaper. I mean, it's all part of

my persecution by somebody who doesn't want me

to get more interested. Persecution? Well, I mean,

there is evidence, isn't there? I mean, there is the tape,

and there is the letter. Is that sergeant Matthews' report? Mr Brett, may we get

our priorities right? Any connection between your... Persecution. Between your persecution in the matter

of the late Lucy etheldreda Dawson, and the death of this unknown woman will be assessed by Scotland yard when they

receive our report on last night's incident. So, may we confine ourselves

to that incident? - If you say so.

- He does say so. Now, what we want is information

that will help us to identify the deceased. You've already told us that she's

a Roman catholic, probably lapsed. You suspect her of affecting

female company rather than male. She had an older friend who died, and a younger friend

who was a typist in whitehall. That's a wide field. Now, is there anything you can add

to that information? No. Mr Brett, you were the last

known person to see the deceased. He was also the last known

person to see mrs Dawson. His lady friends seem

kind of accident prone. Well, for god's sake, if you're going to say

that I murdered the pair of them... Nobody is saying

anything about murder, mr Brett. Now please sit down.

Don't over-excite yourself. The deceased wasn't murdered.

She died of a heart attack. She was frightened by something.

Or someone. She did, er... she did say that

she suffered from a heart condition. Why didn't you tell us that? I've just thought of it. All right, I just remembered it.

Better? Here. That cigarette stub in your toilet. I thought you said

you'd given up smoking? I've just started again. You still carry a lighter. For god's sake, yes.

My fiancee smokes, so do a great number of my friends. I know. I've read your book. You must forgive

the sergeant, mr Brett. He's tired, like all of us. What he means is that

we must try and set a value on the evidence you've given us. What he means is

that I'm a hallucinating ex-junkie who dreamed the whole thing up. Ex-junkie? Mr Brett, can we have

your assurance on oath, that you've not gone back

to your old...? Yes, yes, you can. That's why I'm getting

married on Saturday, unless you're going to lock me up. There's no question of

locking you up, mr Brett. There's nothing to lock you up for. What we want to hear

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