“Here, boy, carry her upstairs. Wrap her up good and warm; and give her some hot brandy, if you can find any. She’ll be as right as rain in no time, mark my words for it. And, what’s more, it’s going to be plain sailing for you two from now on. Remember that, and don’t worry.” He tapped the Diary with a meaning forefinger. “It’s a closed book; you know what I mean. Easy there, don’t fall.” He turned to question Belknap.
“Now come across, Belknap. _Talk._ Or shall we run you up to town for that? Room 27 at Headquarters is a fine place to talk. As you should know.”
Belknap, examining his folded hands with meticulous interest, spoke sidewise through a lifted corner of his mouth.
“Can the rough stuff, Berry. It won’t get you anywhere with me, as _you_ should know. What’s eating you? Curiosity? Yes, I killed ’em. Do I _have_ to say it? Oh, don’t let it worry your poor weak intellect that you haven’t the right man. You have. How many did I murder? I lost count. You add ’em up. And don’t for God’s sake ask me why. Why the Hell! Look in that rotten little Diary there. It’ll tell you why and then some. _One_ of us had to wipe out the litter before it hatched; to make his world safe—for crime. I got in my licks first, that’s all.” Belknap would have made a waving gesture with his right hand but was checked by its anchorage to his left. “Let’s clear out of this,” he cried. “I expect you’re champing at the bit to drag me at your chariot wheels through the streets of Rome. Well, do it and be damned. Only get it over.” Belknap’s eyes, a little sunken in their heavily shadowed sockets, gleamed feverishly. The lines in his face had deepened. He looked his age. “When, may I ask, did _you_ catch the cat out of my bag? I hadn’t a notion I’d let it out. Thought I had it pretty well sewed in. Like the Little Red Hen you must have left a stone in its place. Or _she_ did, the vixen. I should have marked the extra weight. _Christ_, the mess I’ve made of the perfect crime; all in my best tradition. And I had it on toast but for playing with fire. The utter fool I was to take her into my game when I already had her so neatly fitted to my boots. Just as I fitted Violet Mowbray to Blake’s, and Durgin to Allan Galt’s, and Thane to— Take her away,” he shouted suddenly, hoarsely, half rising to his feet. “In God’s name why leave the carrion about! Get her false face to Hell out of here or I’ll—”