CHAPTER NINE

Mr Verloc was gone for ten days. When he came back, he did not seem any happier than before. He looked tired and sad. Throwing himself into a chair and dropping his bags on the floor, he said, "Here!" to Stevie who was busy cleaning the shop window. The young man immediately smiled and ran to pick up Mr Verloc's travel bags and put them away for him. Mr Verloc was surprised by the boy's eagerness.

Hearing her husband's entrance, Winnie appeared in the kitchen doorway and, without saying "hello", offered him some breakfast. Mr Verloc, by throwing both of his hands up in the air and letting them fall, acted as though his wife were the most troublesome person in the world. However, he managed to pick himself up out of the chair and walk to the kitchen. At the dinner table Mrs Verloc told her husband all the news that there was to tell.

"Several of your friends came to the house while you were away. Michaelis told me that he's moving into a small house in the countryside, just outside of London, near Dover. That horrible man, Karl Yundt, came with that equally horrible woman of his. Oh, and Ossipon visited, as well." Here, she stopped speaking for a moment and her face turned slightly red, but Mr Verloc did not notice.

"Stevie's been very sad, although, that hasn't slopped him from working around the house. He's been great help to Mrs Neale and me." Mr Verloc took his hat off and Stevie immediately got up from his chair and hung the hat on the wall in the next room. As he was coming back, he passed Mrs Neale, who was working hard at cleaning the floor.

"Ohhh," she cried as if in pain, "Such hard work. You're lucky not to have to work like me. You have only yourself to worry about and feed."

Winnie, hearing this, told Mr Yerloc that Mrs Neale had been saying such things to Stevie all week. She knew how emotioned he was and that he would always give her the money he had in his pockets any time that he heard her complain about her difficulties. Then the sound of Stevie hitting his hand against the table in the next room could be heard. He was upset because he had nothing to give the poor woman.

"Come here, Stevie," she called to her brother. She did not like giving the woman extra money because she knew the woman would spend it getting drunk down the street.

Later that day, as Mr Verloc announced that he was going outside to take a walk, Winnie suggested that he take her brother with him.

"He needs the air. And if he has nothing to do he always feels terrible. I can't be comfortable with him looking so sad all the time."

"But what if I lose him, somehow?" Mr Verloc argued.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. He'd never leave your side. You're such an important person in his life. He respects you more than anyone else. Besides, if he were to wander away it would be fine, because—" she stopped for a brief moment and then continued, "never mind, he'll be fine. Trust me."

Mr Verloc was surprised by his wife's trust in Stevie to find his way back home. Perhaps the boy was more intelligent than he thought?

"Alright. He can come with me," he finally agreed.

Watching the two men walking down the street together, Winnie felt happy for a moment. In her eyes it looked as if it could be a tall, round, father walking with his shorter, and much thinner, son. She began to feel proud of herself for having found such a good living situation for her brother. He would be safe here. Although it was not the ideal situation for herself, it was worth accepting for her brother.

Over the next few days, Winnie became even more pleased to see her husband taking greater interest in Stevie. He always invited him to join him on his walks about town. And on several occasions Winnie noticed Mr Yerloc studying the boy with his eyes. He was a different man, her husband. His moods were not as dark as before and he no longer moved so slowly about the home.

Stevie, had changed a little, too. Instead of sitting sadly in the corner when he had nothing to do, he would walk about talking to himself in a rather serious voice. He seemed troubled about something. When Winnie tried asking him what was the matter he would only stare at her with an open mouth. Mrs Verloc then began to worry about the walks her brother was taking with her husband. She knew that Mr Verloc almost always met one of his friends on the street and that there would be revolutionary talk. Remembering how upset Stevie had become after the last meeting in their basement, she wondered if Stevie was hearing too many violent ideas.

When she mentioned this to Mr Verloc, he did not respond right away, but took down a package from a shelf in the shop. Gently laying it on the counter, he then said, "I've got an idea. Why don't we send Stevie to stay out at Michaelis' cottage. The old man is working on a book just outside of London."

Winnie liked the idea, because she liked Michaelis. Karl Yundt, she hated, and Ossipon, well ... she had nothing to say about him.

"You seem to like Stevie so much more, lately," she observed.

Mr Verloc tied a string tightly around the package and then looked up into his wife's smiling face and said, "I'll take him out there myself. Tomorrow morning."

The next day, Stevie was happy to go with his brother-in-law and he felt-proud to carry the package that was put into his hands. He seemed almost embarrassed when his sister reminded him not to get dirty out in the countryside. He gave her a look that said, "give me a chance to be an adult, will you?" And she, surprised and touched by this, apologized and wished him a wonderful trip.

On the day of the bombing, Winnie was left alone at home much longer than usual. Mr Verloc came home later than expected, but she did not think much of it. She did not raise her eyes from the sweater she was sewing when she heard the familiar steps of her husband come through the front door of the shop. Without once looking at him, she asked, "Terrible day out there, yes? Did you visit Stevie today?"

"No. I didn't," her husband said quietly..

Mr Verloc walked past her and into the house, closing the door very loudly behind him. This did not trouble her either, because she was used to being treated coldly in her home. She accepted this as just being her husband's way of doing things. She still thought of him as a very good man.

Putting her sewing down and going into the kitchen to make Mr Verloc a cup of tea, she stopped in the doorway. The sound of something shaking came to her ears and she quickly lit the lamp to see what it was. She found her husband bent over the stove, his large body shaking with cold.

"My goodness! You've caught a terrible cold! Where did you go today?"

"To the bank," he answered in a low, painful voice.

"Why the bank?" she asked.

Mr Verloc seemed to be using all of his strength to answer her, "Took the money out."

"All the money?"

"That's right."

Beginning to prepare the kitchen table for a meal, she continued to ask questions.

"Why did you do that?"

"We might be needing it soon."

"I guess that I don't really understand," she said trying not to seem worried.

"I'm an honest man, right?" Mr Verloc asked.

"Of course. Yes, of course."

"You'll have to trust me."

Thinking to herself, "I bet he hasn't eaten all day," she pulled some meat and bread from the shelf. Then, after placing two plates on the dinner table, she began to speak again.

"I would never have married you if I didn't believe you were honest."

Mr Verloc held his face in his hands in front of the fire. He ignored his wife's suggestion that he eat, however, he sat down at the kitchen table. He looked terribly ill. His hair was going in all directions, and his face and eyes looked as though they were on fire. He did not touch the food in front of him, but threw three cups of tea down his throat, one after another.

"Well ... let's at least dry your feet. They must be freezing!" she suggested.

"I don't care about my feet! Leave them alone!" he whispered violently.

"Are you going out again this evening?"

Hearing this question, Mr Yerloc's eyes suddenly became wide. Going out? Yes, in a way, that was what he was thinking of doing.

"I'm thinking of leaving the country. I don't know where yet. Maybe France. Maybe America," he said.

"What? Are you joking?" Mrs Yerloc shouted.

"I can't stand this place any longer. I ... "

"You're just ill now," she interrupted him.

It was true that he did not seem his normal self at all. He remained quiet for a short time, but then he said, "We have no choice. We must leave."

"How can you say such a thing? You have everything you need here: this house, the shop. Why would you want to throw all of this away?" Then, walking over to where he was sitting, she put her arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, asking, "Do you want to leave me, too?"

She let her lips rest on his forehead for quite a long time. At that moment the house seemed completely quiet. The only sound that could be heard was of the gas feeding the fire in the lamp. Mr Verloc took a strong hold of the seat of his chair until she finished with her kiss. Then he got up from his seat and walked over to the fireplace. From there he stood watching his wife with a very sad and hopeless look. She, however, cleaned up around the kitchen without any worries.

"No way. Stevie could never be taken abroad. I wouldn't allow it," she said, changing her voice to a serious tone. And because her husband did not answer her, she found enough courage to go even further, "If you go abroad, you'll just have to go alone."

"I won't do that and you know it," Mr Verloc answered with rare emotion.

Mrs Verloc suddenly felt sorry about what she had said. It certainly was not true. She would have gone with him, of course. However she disagreed so much with his plan that she felt the need to say something strong. In order to make things better, she turned to her husband and said, "That's right. You would be very unhappy without me. Admit it."

"Yes," he answered, beginning to walk toward her with his arms stretched out. It was difficult to know whether he meant to hug her or kiss her.

Then the doorbell of the shop suddenly rang.

"Could you see who it is, Adolf?" she asked, "I have my kitchen clothing on."

He let his arms fall to his sides and then, without saying a word, slowly walked out of the kitchen. Mrs Verloc then began to wash the dishes; occasionally stopping to try and hear who it was that had come in. When not a sound could be heard, she quietly began to walk toward the door of the shop. Then Mr Verloc came back through the door. His face was terribly white. He looked extremely troubled.

"What's wrong?" she said looking through the shop door and noticing that the customer was still inside.

"It seems that I'm going to have to go out tonight," Mr Yerloc answered.

Winnie then immediately entered the shop and closed the door behind her. She wanted to see whom it was that was waiting there. Her face remained calm and friendly.

"Hello. Are you a foreigner?" she asked the man. His clothing and the hair on his face made it obvious that he was not an Englishman. He only answered her with a smile.

"Do you speak English?" she asked him.

"Yes, of course," he responded in slow, but perfect, English.

"Oh, well ... don't worry, my husband will find you an excellent place to stay. The Continental Hotel is quite nice."

"That would be lovely," he said, suddenly looking a little more serious.

"Have you known my husband a long time? Did you perhaps meet in France?"

"I have only heard his name before." A look of worry then came over the man. "Is it possible that he might have gone out another door to meet me outside?"

"Oh, no. This is the only door to our home. Just a moment, I'll see what he's doing."

Winnie went back into her home and closed the door behind her. Her husband was still standing where she had left him. His eyes were staring at the ground.

"Who is that man?" she asked.

"I've only heard his name before," he said, lifting his eyes to meet hers for a moment, "This is my first time meeting him."

"Is he from the Embassy?"

Mr Verloc's eyes suddenly became wide with surprise. "What do you mean? Who told you about the Embassy?"

"No one. You've been talking in your sleep lately."

"Talking in my sleep?" he whispered loudly, "What did you hear?"

"I couldn't really understand. It all sounded kind of silly, really. It didn't make much sense."

Mr Verloc's face turned bright red. He walked about the room talking to himself in a quiet, but angry, whisper.

"I'd love to kill all of those damned embassy people! All of them! If I can't kill them, I can surely use what I know against them."

Then, as his anger turned back into fear, his face turned very white again. He walked back into the shop without saying another word to Winnie.

"Adolf! Wait a moment!" she whispered.

He came back, looking more frightened than before.

"Is the money you took from the bank still in your pocket?" she asked him.

"Oh ... yes. You're right." He took a white envelope from his jacket and handed it to Winnie. Then he closed the door again and went to meet the stranger.

After he had left the shop, Mrs Verloc stood in the dining room, looking about her home. Everything that had once seemed so comfortable and safe now looked like it could be taken away at any moment. She decided to keep the money under her clothing. And as soon as she had finished hiding it, the sound of another customer entering the shop could be heard. She walked in and found a man standing in front of the counter, looking around the store. He then turned toward her and smiled as if they might have met before. She felt that he was a little familiar, but he did not seem like a customer.

"Hi. Is your husband home?" asked Inspector Heat.

"I'm afraid not. He's just left," she answered.

"Oh. Well, I just needed to ask him a few important questions. Do you think he'll be back soon?" Receiving no answer from Winnie, he continued, "It's quite important. Could you tell me where he might have gone?"

Mrs Verloc simply turned around and began to put things onto the shelf behind her. Inspector Heat, surprised at her ability to remain calm, watched her for a few moments before asking her if she knew who he was.

"Surely, you must know that I'm a policeman."

"So?"

"My name's Inspector Heat. I'm the Chief Inspector of the Department of Special Crimes."

Again, his introduction was met with silence and an empty, uninterested stare from Mrs Verloc. The Inspector decided to question her a little bit.

"You say that he went out a few minutes ago. Did he go alone?"

"No. He went with a stranger who came to visit."

"And what can you tell me about this stranger?"

When she described the man, he knew right away that it had been the Assistant Commissioner. His heart suddenly filled with anger.

"Ha! I knew it!" he shouted. Even though he was terribly upset by his boss' behavior, he decided not to wait for the men to return. "Well, I guess that I'll go, then. Thank you." Seeing that Mrs Verloc cared very little about whether he stayed or not, the Chief Inspector decided that questioning her a little more might be useful. Even though he knew that the Assistant Commissioner was planning to take away the case from him, he wanted to find out the truth on his own.

"I wonder if you might be able to tell me what your husband has been involved in lately," he said to the stone-faced woman behind the counter.

"I don't know what you mean," she responded.

"You know I have come here for a very specific purpose." Mrs Verloc was not aware of anything that had happened that day. She had only very briefly looked at the day's newspaper. And the young boys who always shouted out the latest news in the street did not usually come to their neighborhood.

"I haven't heard any news," she said, looking him straight in the face.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't believe that. Everyone's talking about it. Your husband must have mentioned something to you."

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly from side to side.

"Well, we've found a piece of cloth from a coat that we think might have been stolen. That is what I wanted to talk with your husband about."

"I don't think we're missing any coats here," Mrs Verloc said confidently.

The Inspector, looked around the shop. "Hmm. It looks like you have a lot of pens for sale here. And the ink looks to be purple as well. You know? It's very interesting that the coat we found has your address written on it in purple ink."

"Really? Well, then the coat can't belong to anyone else but my brother."

"And could you tell me where your brother is? I'd like to speak with him."

"He's in the countryside, staying at a friend's house for a week."

"Hmm. That's interesting too. We got the coat from near the countryside. Could you tell me who he's staying with."

"Michaelis," she said in a quiet voice, which seemed to show that she suddenly realized something.

"Really? Very good," the Inspector responded with a smile, "In fact, just perfect! Now, your brother, is he a tall, dark-haired fellow?"

"No. He's just the opposite, short and yellow-haired."

"I see. And could you tell me why your brother would write his address on the inside of his coat?"

"Well, actually, I wrote the address, myself. He has a disability that keeps him from being able, to think quickly or clearly. It's very easy for him to get lost. If he were to lose his way, he could easily look inside his shirt and ask someone for help."

The Chief Inspector listened quietly and then asked if the boy was easy to make upset or uncomfortable.

"Oh, yes. Any little thing could upset him, especially when he sees someone being treated badly," she answered and then, stopping for a moment, asked what exactly had happened to her brother.

The Inspector pulled the evening newspaper out of his pocket. He loved horseracing and often liked to read the race results after work. It helped him to relax and forget about his job. He continued to look for something deeper down in his pockets until he finally presented her with the torn piece of cloth that he had found from her brother's pile of body parts.

"Does this look familiar?" he asked.

Mrs Verloc looked at the cloth closely with a confused and concerned look. She answered in a weak voice that it was from her brother's coat.

"Why is it so badly damaged?" she asked, her voice now shaking.

At that moment the Inspector knew everything. It was obvious that Mr Verloc was the big man that had been described by the old woman in Greenwich Park. Taking the cloth from her fingers, he again spoke. "It appears, Mrs Verloc, that you may know more about what happened this morning than you realize."

She did not say another word. None of this made any sense to her. She could not move, so surprised and confused she was. Even when the door of the store opened and her husband entered, she did not look to see who it was.

The Chief Inspector was happy to see that he had come back without the Assistant Commissioner.

"What do you want?" asked Mr Verloc.

"Just a few moments of your time. That's all. I have some questions to ask you."

"Fine. Follow me. We'll talk in the house," he said heading for the door to his home.

As soon as the two men went inside, Mrs Verloc ran to the door and listened carefully to what they discussed. Their voices could be heard as if they were in the same room with her.

"I know you're the one," said the Inspector, pointing his finger at the large man's chest.

"Well, why don't you arrest me then?" asked Yerloc. "Go ahead!"

"No, I'm afraid that this case is not mine any longer. The man you were just with will have to discover the truth on his own. But you just remember that I was the man who first discovered the truth. You remember that!"

Mrs Yerloc could not hear the next few exchanges very clearly. But she assumed that the Inspector had shown her husband the torn piece of cloth, for she heard Mr Verloc say, "I didn't know she was writing in his clothing!"

Then came the voice of the Inspector.

"What were you thinking? You were crazy to do such a thing!" whispered the Inspector, angrily.

"Yes, for the past thirty days I have been crazy, but I'm perfectly clear in my mind now. Everything is finished and I will clear my brain of all the terrible information it has held for so long and accept what happens to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm going to tell everyone everything that I know," answered Verloc. "We've known each other for a while now. I think you know the kind of man I am. You know, that I'm not a criminal."

"You should leave the country immediately," answered the Inspector.

"You would like that, wouldn't you? No, I'm going to stay and tell them everything I know."

Fine," responded the Inspector without appearing worried, "I'm more interested in learning about how you got away from the park."

"I started walking back to the train when, suddenly, I heard the explosion. It wasn't supposed to have happened so soon. I was lucky, because there were no people around at all."

After hearing this, Mrs Verloc felt her whole body become cold. Again, the men began to speak more quietly, making it more difficult for her to understand. However, a few sentences came through quite clearly to her ears.

"It seems that he must have accidentally fallen down," the Inspector said. Then, after an unclear question from her husband, "Completely destroyed. He was nothing but a pile of meat when I saw him."

Winnie jumped to her feet and, almost falling, ran to the counter where the Inspector's newspaper was still lying.

"You plan to admit your participation in the bombing then?" asked the Inspector.

Mr Verloc said that he would admit his guilt. The Inspector did not know how he felt about this. It would cause problems for a lot of bad people, but it would also mean losing all of the secret connections that he used to do his job.

"I'm an honest man. I must tell the people what I know,"

Mr Verloc said.

"I don't know what that man you were just with has promised you for your information, but I would not believe a word that he says. They'll probably kill you in the end. Again, my suggestion is that you run away. Don't waste time."

The big man listened to him silently. He had a sad and hopeless look on his face.

"There's nowhere for me to go," he finally answered, then adding, "It's too bad that you can't just arrest me now. I wouldn't fight you." He was looking at the door when he said this, thinking about the woman on the other side. "I used the boy because he was stupid and innocent. The police would have done nothing more than send him to a hospital, instead of jail. He would have been cared for there. I thought it was the best way to do it. I didn't plan for this to happen."

"That's nonsense! How could you do such a thing?"

A disgusting man from the Embassy gave me no choice," answered Verloc.

Winnie did not notice the Inspector as he passed through the store and exited through the front door. She sat in a chair with her head in her hands. Her fingers were so deeply pushed into the skin of her forehead; it looked like she might begin to pull her whole face off at any moment. Her pain and anger was so obvious, that the Inspector looked away from her as soon as he saw her. He feared that she might explode at any moment, either in screams or tears.

(end of section)