CHAPTER TWELVE

Winnie was frightened now. She could not let her eyes fall upon the body of her husband. However, her fear was not of the dead Mr Verloc, the murderer of her younger brother. He was nothing now, nothing at all. No, she was afraid of being hung by the police, for she was now a killer, herself.

She imagined what the newspaper reports would say about her hanging. "She was hung in the yard of the central jail. Her neck broke immediately after falling fourteen feet from the platform. Those present at the hanging were ... " and so on. Her image of the moment was so clear that she tightened her whole body in preparation for the pull of the rope that would suddenly break her neck.

Winnie decided to throw herself into the river. She headed for the front door of the shop. When she entered the outside air, she felt as though she were already sinking underneath the dirty water of the Thames. Not a single face looked friendly or even familiar. She realized in that moment that no one would care about her death. There was her mother, of course, but she did not want to think about her now. It was too painful.

She moved very unsteadily along the street. To prevent herself from falling, she took hold of the wall or of streetlights as she passed them. She began to fear that the police would arrest her before she could reach the river. Images of her own hanging kept coming back into her brain: falling fourteen feet from the platform." She now had a strong desire to live. The idea of going to another country now seemed wonderful to her.

Then she suddenly found that a man was standing before her with both of his hands on her shoulders.

"Are you alright, Mrs Verloc?" asked Comrade Ossipon. He had seen her walking as if she were drunk and ran over to help her before she fell to the ground.

"Ossipon!" she whispered, "Were you on your way to our home?"

"Yes, I was, actually. You've been in my thoughts a lot, lately. After I saw the newspapers I decided to visit you and see how you were doing. I don't know if you realize it, but I care very much about you."

She surprised him by putting her arms around his waist. He felt himself being pushed to walk forward. He allowed her to do so. As they walked, Mrs Yerloc spoke again.

"In fact, I was just leaving the house to come and find you. I need your help," she said.

Ossipon felt wonderful inside. This was going much more easily than he had expected. "Well, I'm glad that you thought of me. I don't know anyone else who would like to help you more than me."

"Are you aware of my problem?" she asked.

"Well, I saw the paper and then spoke with the Professor. I knew after that what had happened. I came over right away. It's because ... well ... I love you."

He had no idea that Mrs Yerloc saw him as her only hope to continue living. He was all that she had at the moment.

"I knew you did," answered Mrs Verloc.

"It was that obvious?" he said, trying to hide his true desire: to get whatever money and valuables Comrade Verloc had left behind. He did feel a little guilty about stealing from a newly dead friend, but if he did not get the money, then someone else would just come along sooner or later and take it.

"I could not tell if you knew," he went on, "You never seemed at all interested in me."

"I was a married woman. Of course, I couldn't show interest!"

"I must admit, I never thought that Verloc deserved you."

"That man caused me to throw away the last seven years of my life!" she cried.

"Hmm. And yet, I always felt that you truly loved him, and that he, too, loved you," Ossipon said, attempting to make up for the bad things he had just said about his friend.

"I married him. I fed him. I washed his clothing. I watched over his shop. But I never loved him!" Her face was hot and her eyes full of hate. "That man was evil. That's what he was. I only loved one man. He was a butcher, and he loved me too. However, his father would not allow him to marry a woman with a mother who couldn't walk and a brother who had a disability. Seven years! Gone!"

Ossipon was surprised to hear all of this. He had no idea that his friend had been such an awful person. He could not imagine what horrible things must have happened in that home that, to him, had always seemed so comfortable and quiet. All that he could think to say to her was, "Poor girl. You poor, poor girl. Well, it's all over now. He's dead and gone."

She jumped at this. "You know he's dead? How ... ? I ... I had to do it! I had to!"

Comrade Ossipon found her words strange, even crazy. What in the devil was she talking about? He began to wonder if Comrade Verloc had not purposefully killed himself in Greenwich Park that morning, just to get away from his mad wife. It suddenly seemed possible that Mrs Verloc might truly have been the evil person, not his friend. He also wondered how it was that she knew her husband was dead. Not even the police had any idea who the bomber was. It did not seem likely that Verloc would have told his wife about his plans. He asked her how she found out the news.

"Inspector Heat came to my home and told me," she answered. "He had a badly damaged piece of cloth from his coat. He asked me if I was familiar with it."

"My God! The police came to your home?" he asked with obvious fear in his voice.

"Another man came too. I think he might've been from the Embassy or something."

"What? The Embassy?"

"Yes. I'm sure you know, the one on Chesham Street. He was always complaining about those men. But, please, let's not talk about them any longer. It's too upsetting."

"Fine. Of course," he said very gently. "Embassy?" he thought to himself, "What could he have been doing with an embassy?" It was a lot to think about, this Embassy business. He was extremely surprised and troubled. However, Comrade Ossipon decided to ignore all of the alarms going off inside of him for the moment. Mrs Yerloc seemed willing to give herself to him and that was what he needed to pay the most attention to. There was money to be made, after all.

"I'd like to leave the country today, if possible!" she said.

"Oh, but it won't be. The soonest we could go would be tomorrow morning. The trains have already gone for the day," he answered.

He did not mind the idea of going abroad with her. He had wanted to get away from England for quite a while. But there was the store to think about.'No, he did not want to keep that. It was surrounded, by police and, apparently, embassy people, too. No, he would get rid of the store. The last thing to consider was whether she knew where her husband had kept his money.

"I need a place to stay tonight," she said.

"My place is no good, because I have a roommate."

"But I can't go back home! You must help me!" she cried.

"I could try to find a place, but I haven't any money. And there's the train ride tomorrow, as well. How can we go without money?" he asked, hoping she would suggest something.

She thought for a moment. Ossipon's hopes seemed to lower a great deal. It did not look as though she knew anything about the money. But then she suddenly stood up straight and cried, "I almost forgot! He took all of the money out of the bank. It's ours to use now. All of it!"

"What?" asked Ossipon, trying not to look excited by the news, "You mean everything was taken out?"

"Yes!"

"Well, then I suppose we'll be alright, after all," he said, keeping his eagerness hidden inside himself.

She put her arms around him and began to cry. He put his around her, as well, but without really touching her. She then said something that both confused him and made him feel uncomfortable.

"Tell me that you'll take my life before they find me. You must do this. I was going to do it myself, but I cannot. I'm too afraid."

"What are you talking about?" he said. The only thing that kept him from running away from her was the thought of her money.

"Don't you know what I did? Can't you see what will happen if I don't get away tonight?"

He did not understand. She seemed to be mad. However, he needed to save her in order to get his hands on that money. Then he remembered that there was an evening boat that they could catch. He told Mrs Yerloc about it and she became hopeful again.

"Oh, but I must return to the store for a moment. I think I left the door unlocked."

Ossipon did not understand why that was so important, but thinking that she might have left the money there, he did not argue. When they arrived at the store, Mrs Verloc pointed in through the doorway and asked Ossipon if he would go inside and turn off the light in the house. She was too afraid to do it herself.

"What a crazy woman," he thought as he entered the shop and walked toward the door to the house. However, when he looked for the light inside the house, he saw the body of Mr Yerloc lying on the couch. Ossipon wanted to cry out, but he controlled himself. He became more confused than ever and began to wonder if this had all been arranged by the police as a way to catch him. He turned around and headed back into the shop. His head spun wildly and he felt the need to throw up everything he had eaten that day, especially that beer he had had with the Professor.

Then he heard Mrs Verloc's voice behind him: "The police are here! I'm afraid that one of them might have seen me." She then ran toward Ossipon and kneeled down low to the ground with him. A light from outside suddenly passed through the shop windows for a moment and then disappeared. Mrs Verloc took hold of Ossipon's coat and whispered, "I don't want to hang! I don't want to hang! If he enters the shop, you must take my life! Promise me you'll do it!"

Ossipon thought about how foolish he was to have gotten himself into this mess. Only twenty minutes ago, he was walking mound the neighborhood, safe and unthreatened. Now, he could easily be arrested and put into jail. Mrs Verloc could tell the police anything. It would be much easier for them to believe that he had killed Mr Verloc rather than she. He could hardly believe that she was capable of such a thing, himself.

"I had to do it, you see," she continued, "He took my brother away from me ... killed him. And then he came back home to me and expected me to forgive him. He even expected me to accept some of the blame for my brother's death. Then he asked me to sit next to him. That's when I stuck him with the knife ... the bloody pig!"

Mrs Verloc then let out a horrible cry, causing Ossipon to run over to her and cover her mouth with his hand. He knocked her to the floor and she wrapped her arms around his legs. He then understood what had happened. Her brother had been the bomber.

"I won't let you leave me until you've properly killed me!" she said.

Comrade Ossipon felt trapped by this woman. He even considered choking her with his bare hands, just to shut her up. If he ran, he knew that she too would run after him, making all kinds of noise that would attract the police.

"Let's go," he said, "We have to leave now if we're going to catch our train."

"To where?" she asked, her voice now quiet again.

"We'll go to France first. Now come. You go into the street first."

Outside, they managed to find a taxi. On their way to the station, Ossipon explained that they should not be seen together. The police knew him well and if she were seen with him, they would almost immediately guess who she was: No, it would be best if she went to the platform alone. He would then buy their tickets, walk past her on the platform and secretly hand her the ackel. They would get on the train separately.

"Now, if you'll just give me the money ... " he said.

Without saying anything, Mrs Verloc pulled the envelope her husband had given her earlier in the evening from her dress and handed it to Comrade Ossipon. He put it under his coat right away and asked her how much was inside.

"I never counted it," she answered, adding, "Falling fourteen feet through the door ... "

They rode in silence for a while. Comrade Ossipon's behavior had quickly changed. Instead of speaking softly and using caring, gentle words, he now looked like a businessman and spoke only in a serious voice.

"Tell me, do you know if Mr Verloc used his real name at the bank? I'm asking because if he did use his real name, we may run into trouble later on. The police will know the numbers on the money we're using. They'll easily find us. We'd have to have the money changed and that could be quite expensive. If he used another name, there'd be no problem and we could spend the money however we like."

"Hmm," Mrs Yerloc thought for a moment. "Actually, he did use another name. I seem to recall him saying that the account was under the name of Pozor, or something."

"Ah. Good. Are you certain?"

"Yes."

Just then, the taxi arrived at the station.

"Alright. We're there. You go on. I'll come later."

Ossipon paid the taxi driver and then followed the plan he had explained to Mrs Verloc. Once she had her ticket she boarded the train. Comrade Ossipon stood outside of her window and spoke to her in careful whispers.

"I had always found your brother to be an interesting young man, you know," he said, "In fact, the two of you looked quite similar to one another."

"Thank you. Yes, he was ... a wonderful boy," and then a wave of emotion came over Mrs Verloc. "Oh, Ossipon, I will love you for all of my days. You have been so good to me and to my brother. I do love you."

Ossipon looked up at the clock and saw that it was about time for the traiti to leave. He jumped aboard and encouraged Mrs Verloc to sit against the far wall, away from the platform window. As soon as the train started, he slowly walked backward toward the door of their carriage.

"Thank you so much, Ossipon. You've saved me!"

And as soon as the train was moving at a quick enough speed, Comrade Ossipon opened the door and jumped out. He did not land on the ground properly and rolled for a while, head over feet. He lay on his back in the tall grass for a few moments. Nothing seemed to be broken. He then picked himself up and walked back toward the station. He decided that he would take a nice long walk through the city, back to his apartment. It would give him time to enjoy the fact that he now had more money than he had ever had before.

(end of section)