CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mr Verloc could see his wife sitting in a chair in the store. He felt very sorry for her, but he was also glad that the Inspector had told her the news. The idea of telling her himself had frightened him terribly. Now he just had to deal with her sadness.

Dealing with her sadness had been a part of his plan, actually. However, his plan was for Stevie to be arrested and eventually put into a hospital. That would have terribly upset his wife, of course, but he could have handled it. This, however, was much more serious. And now he wished that he had not used the boy at all in the bombing.

He thought that everything had been arranged well. During his walks with Stevie he discovered that the boy liked and trusted him as much as Winnie. Mr Verloc, during those same walks, talked with the boy about the police and helped him to understand that they were not good people. He had shown the boy several times exactly what to do with the bomb. All that he had to do was deliver it and then walk away. The Professor had said that the boy would have a full quarter of an hour to place the bomb in the Greenwich Observatory. What Mr Verloc had not thought about was the possibility that the boy might accidentally fall. And, of course, he had no idea that his wife had written their address inside the boy's clothing. That was completely unexpected. Why hadn't she told him about that? He remembered her promising that Stevie would never get lost, that he would always be able to get back home from now on. And she was right. Stevie had returned home, but on the tongues of the police.

Mr Verloc entered his store and walked over to where Winnie was sitting. He felt a strong need to speak with her. He thought about everything that had happened that day and accepted it. There was nothing that could change it.

"I'm sorry, Winnie," he said softly, "Nothing was supposed to happen to Stevie today. It was all a terrible accident."

Mrs Verloc's body shook when her husband began to speak. She continued to hold her head in her hands. The secret agent stared at her for a few moments, giving her plenty of time to think about his apology. He noticed the newspaper, torn and lying at his wife's feet.

"I can't believe the way that Inspector walked right in here and just gave you the news without any pity!" he continued, "I'd spent the whole day trying to think of the best way to tell you myself. I hope that you believe me when I say that I am very sorry and that this was not supposed to happen to your brother."

After the explosion, something had awakened inside of him. His love for his wife had awakened. Seeing her shaking and without anything to say to him, he decided to stop there and give her time to think on her own. He went back into the house and saw that she had left some food out on the table.

Grabbing a large piece of bread, he sat down at the table and started to have dinner.

He had not had anything to eat all day. That morning, when he had gone to Michaelis' home in the countryside to get Stevie, he had been too nervous to eat. He arrived there and found that Michaelis was upstairs working on his book. He shouted that he was taking Stevie home for a few days and then immediately left with the boy.

Now, everything was over. The police would handle everything from here on. There was nothing that he could do except eat. And he did. He ate everything that had been left out for him on that table. And he ate it all quickly. Occasionally, he would look up and see his wife still sitting in the same (position she had been in when he left her side.

When he finished the meal, he walked back over to her. "Alright. It's all over now. They're coming for me tomorrow and you'll have to have a clear mind."

Her body shook even more now. She was crying heavily. This made Mr Verloc feel uncomfortable. He felt sorry for his wife, but, at the same time, he could not understand the kind of love she felt for her brother. It was time to think about their future now, but this could not be done with her crying so much. He became a little impatient with her.

"Alright, enough. Why don't you look at me?" he asked a little angrily.

Then, without removing her hands from her face, she said, "I will never look at you again!"

The words surprised him. He could not believe how upset she was. It seemed so unnecessary. Her brother was gone. Yes, that was sad, but there was nothing either of them could do about it now.

"Well, I can't have you crying in my store all day and night!" he yelled. However, seeing that this did not help the situation, he began to talk in a quieter voice again. "Crying isn't going to change anything. Things could be worse, you know. Just imagine, what if I had been the one who had died?"

Winnie then became very quiet. Mr Verloc suddenly felt uncomfortable. He wanted her to look at him, damn it! He took hold of her arms and tried to pull her hands away from her face, but she resisted. Finally, after several moments of pulling at her, she suddenly broke away from, him and ran into the house.

Mr Verloc sat on the chair she had been using, and thought about his situation for a moment. There was no doubt about it, he would be going to jail. However, he believed that he would be released after a short time and then he would go to another country to live. The failure of the bombing upset him. But his problems now were all because his wife had written their address inside her brother's clothing. He'd be a hero now if she had not done that. Mr Vladimir would have admired him.

He did not blame his wife. She had only written the address to help her brother. She was innocent. He thought about how his wife would live while he was in jail. She would be lonely. And her loneliness would only make' her miss her brother even more. She might not be able to take care of the store in that kind of condition. What would happen then? He needed the store to stay open. They needed the money. But, it was clear that this could not be discussed tonight.

Mr Verloc got up from his chair, locked the front door, turned off the light, and headed back toward his home. He found Mrs Verloc seated at the kitchen table. It was the same seat that Stevie used to draw his circles. Her head was down, lying on top of her arms.

She had never shown interest in Mr Verloc's activities outside of the shop. She had never asked about what he did. That made it harder for him to try and explain things to her now. How could she possibly understand why he did the things he did. How could she understand how mad a man can become, because of the threats of someone like Mr Vladmir.

"If you knew the man who was pushing me around, treating me like a dog and threatening to take away everything that you and I have, you would understand why I had to do what I did. I didn't tell you about my problems because I didn't want to upset you and make you fear the future."

He walked back and forth in the dining room next to the kitchen. He spoke every time he passed the kitchen door.

"I've saved so many important people's lives over the years! And then this man comes along and pushes me around like I'm a fool! What a dog! I risked my life to get all kinds of information to save those people. I could have been killed at any moment, if any of those terrorists had seen me go to the Embassy!"

He walked into the kitchen and filled a glass full of water. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Winnie was now sitting back in her chair, looking at him. He took several long drinks from his glass before speaking again.

"I would have beaten that man silly, if the thought of you had not come into my mind when I was in his office. I so wanted to kill him, but I knew that you needed me, so I stopped myself. Oh, how I Would have loved to strike him with all of my strength, right in the middle of that intelligent little face of his! And he couldn't have called anyone for help ... No way! You know why, don't you?"

She looked at him with empty eyes. Her face seemed to be made of rock. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Mr Verloc stopped trying to explain. He was very tired and upset. He wanted only to sleep now. And it would come very easily tonight, he thought, because everything was over now. Everything was in the hands of other people. He only had to wait.

"Why don't you go upstairs, get in bed, and cry all night," he suggested gently, "Get it all out of you."

If Stevie had died of a terrible illness, after weeks or months of treatment and care, Mrs Verloc could have followed the advice of Mr Verloc. She could have cried her sadness out of herself eventually. However, the news of her brother's death now made her heart turn extremely cold. When she thought about her life, she could only think of it in terms of her brother, from childhood to present. Her imagination filled her with dream-like images of her caring for her brother in beautiful castles or cute little houses in the countryside. Then memories of her father's cruel treatment—the beatings, the yelling, and the threats—entered her mind. Those days of working at her mother's hotel—dealing with horrible men, working hard all day and all night, watching little Stevie clean the guests' shoes—came back to her. She remembered a man who used to come into the hotel. The butcher. He always wore his nicest clothes and a hat made of dried grass. He was always cheerful. Life with him seemed like it would be full of happiness and good times. But he wanted only her, not her family. Then came Mr Verloc, a lazy, but friendly, man, who always seemed to have money to spend. Life with him did not seem like it would be nearly as fun as with the butcher, however, he could accept her family. And that was what decided things in her mind.

Finally, she recalled watching her brother walking down the road with her husband, side by side. She remembered thinking how it looked like a boy with his father. And then she put this thought into words and spoke it aloud: "Like a boy with his father."

Her words interrupted Mr Verloc's continued threats of destroying the people at the Embassy. "I'll kill them all! Let them try to min a man's life like this. They'll see how things can get turned around. I'll destroy them! I'll tell the world everything! What? Did you just say something?"

He looked at his wife and found that she was sitting very still. Her eyes did not move from the wall directly in front of her. He wanted her to say something, but she would not. In fact, she could not. Inside, she was screaming and pulling out her hair, but her mouth would not open to let all of that anger and sadness out. Her thoughts kept repeating over and over, "He killed my brother! He took him away from me!" And, in a way, she partly blamed herself for her brother's death, for letting this horrible man take him away.

Meanwhile, Mr Yerloc had begun to talk again about planning for the future.

"I'll probably be gone for about two years, I guess. During that time, you'll need to take care of the store. You must be careful, because the revolutionists will be watching you all of the time. I'll let you know, as soon as I can, when I'll be free. Then we'll sell the store and leave the country."

He explained that the revolutionists were going to want to kill him, because he was going to tell all that he knew. Enemies would be all around, waiting for a chance to put their knives deep into his stomach. However, once in jail, he would be safe. Then, after a couple of years, people would have forgotten him and the two of them could easily go to another country to start a new life.

Mrs Verloc heard the man who killed her brother speaking. He was talking about going away, leaving the country. Her first thought was, "But what about my brother? He can't go abroad." For a moment she had forgotten that Stevie was dead. But now it came back to her. He was gone, taken away by the man whom she had lived with and trusted for the last seven years. Another thought then arose, "If Stevie is gone, then I have no more reason to be with this man. I've no more reason to be here. In fact, I've no reason to live." She then stood up. A new feeling came over her. She belonged to nothing and no one any longer.

Seeing his wife walking out of the room and up the stairs, Mr Yerloc said, "Good. You go have a rest. I'll join you soon." Mrs Verloc turned around for a brief moment and silently moved her head up and then down. Then she continued to climb the staircase.

After she had gone, Mr Verloc began to eat again. He truly did feel sad for his wife. He even felt sorry for Stevie. "It's too bad the boy had to go and get himself killed like that," he thought. As he chewed his food, he became aware of the total silence in the house. It was strange that no sound came from their bedroom upstairs. Suddenly, Mr Verloc lost his desire to eat. He sat still, trying to listen for his wife's movements.

After a few moments, sounds did come, and he felt relieved. Winnie had walked over to the bedroom window and opened it. No doubt she needed some fresh air. A few minutes passed and then he heard the window being closed again. Following this, he heard her open the closet and place a pair of shoes on the floor. She put them on. Mr Verloc's eyes were pointed up toward the ceiling the whole time he listened. Occasionally he moved about in his chair or shuffled his feet, but always very quietly so that every sound could be heard.

A little later, Winnie appeared at the top of the staircase and walked down. She was going out. She belonged to no one now. She had opened the window earlier either to tell everyone that her husband was a killer or to jump through it and kill herself. But now, here she was, all dressed and ready to go out. Mr Yerloc assumed that she wanted to go to her mother's new home.

"Now, Winnie, you can't go out there. It's because of you that I've got the police coming after me!" He then tried to speak more gently. "I'm not angry with you. But I won't agree to you going out there tonight. You must stay here."

This made perfect sense to Winnie. Of course, the murderer did not want her leaving his house. He would make her his prisoner forever. She had not planned to go to her mother. In truth, she had no idea where she was going. She just wanted to get away from this house and this man. She thought about running, but knew that he would easily catch her, if not on her way to the door, then out on the street.

Mr Verloc began to lose his patience. He started to yell at his wife. "Why don't you speak? Now is not the time to play your stupid little games! My God, woman! Show me that you have some strength! You know, it's partly your fault. You had your brother spend time with me while I was trying to think of a way to protect our family. In fact, yes, I'll say it! Stevie wouldn't be dead now, if you hadn't gotten in the way of my thinking! Ah! I wish I'd never gone to that damned Greenwich Park!"

"Park?" Mrs Verloc thought. Yes, it all happened in a park. She imagined the explosion and little Stevie's body flying in all different directions. She remembered what the Inspector had said about their having to use a shovel to pick up all of the pieces.

Then her mind became very clear. She was now, not only totally free, but also in complete control of herself. She stood up and walked over to the fireplace. Mr Verloc, feeling very tired, had gone and thrown himself down on the couch. There was a moment of silence between them.

"Winnie?" he called to her without looking at her any longer. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Hmm?" she responded.

"Why don't you come over here and sit next to me for a while," he said.

She immediately began to walk toward the couch. As she walked beside the dinner table, her hand took hold of the cutting knife that had been resting on a plate. As she got closer to the couch, her appearance seemed more and more similar to her brother's. Even her lower lip hung down like Stevie's.

Mr Verloc heard his wife approaching and he could see her shadow on the wall. It was obvious that she held a knife raised in one of her hands. It was clear that she was coming to kill him. He thought about a way to avoid her attempt at murder. Yes, he would jump up now and grab the nearest chair and hit her over the head with it. But before he could do anything, the knife had already fallen deep into his chest.

Mrs Verloc stood still now. Her head was completely empty of thought. She no longer looked like her brother. She was herself again, but now without any responsibilities. Her freedom was so complete that she did not know what to do with herself. Then the sound of the clock came to her ears: tic, toe, tic, toe. But, as she listened more carefully, she noticed that the sound was more like: tic, tic, tic, tic. She looked down at her husband's still body. He looked like he was resting. She then saw the handle of the knife that was still stuck deep in his chest. Blood was starting to flow along it and drip to the floor: tic, tic, tic.

She suddenly awakened from this momentary dream and let out a little scream. Her husband was dead.

(end of section)