And so they climbed into the car again. “Finis, thank God!” said Mr. Fortune as the little town ran by.
Lomas looked at him curiously. “Why did she commit suicide, Fortune?” he said.
“There are also other little questions,” Reggie murmured. “Why did she murder Bigod? Why did she murder the lady doctor? Why did she try to murder the child?”
Lomas continued to stare at him. “How do you know she did?” he said in a low voice. “You’re making very sure.”
“Great heavens! You might do some of the work. I know Scotland Yard isn’t brilliant, but it might take pains. Who was present at all the murders? Who was the constant force? Haven’t you found that out yet?”
“She was staying near Bigod’s place. She was at the orphanage. She was at the child’s party. And only she was at all three. It staggered me when I got the evidence complete. But what in heaven makes you think she is the murderer?”
Reggie moved uneasily. “There was something malign about her.”
“Malign! But she was always doing philanthropic work.”
“Yes. It may be a saint who does that--or the other thing. Haven’t you ever noticed--some of the people who are always busy about distress--they rather like watching distress?”
“Why, yes. But murder! And what possible motive is there for killing these different people? She might have hated one or another. But not all three.”
“Oh, there is a common factor. Don’t you see? Each one had somebody to feel the death like torture--the girl Bigod was engaged to, the girl who was devoted to the lady doctor, the small Gerald’s mother. There was always somebody to suffer horribly--and the person to be killed was always somebody who had a young good life to lose. Not at all nice murders, Lomas. Genus diabolical, species feminine. Say that Lady Chantry had a devilish passion for cruelty--and it ended that night in the motor-car.”
“But why commit suicide? Do you mean she was mad?”
“I wouldn’t say that. That’s for the Day of Judgment. When is cruelty madness? I don’t know. Why did she--give herself away--in the end? Perhaps she found she had gone a little too far. Perhaps she knew you and I had begun to look after her. She never liked me much, I fancy. She was a little--odd--with me.”
“My dear chap! Oh, my dear chap! I’m wholly normal. I’m the natural man,” said Reggie Fortune.