“Why didn’t you tell the doctor?”      

       “Gyuri would have treated me worse than ever then. I am a coward, sir, I’m so afraid of pain and he knew that—he knew that I was afraid of being hurt and that I’d always do what he asked of me. And because I don’t like to be hurt myself I always finished them off quickly.”      

       “Finished who?”      

       “Why, there was Red Betty, he wanted her money.”      

       “Who wanted it?”      

       “Gyuri.”      

       The man at the wall moved when he heard this terrible accusation. But the detective took up his revolver again. “Be quiet there!” he called, with a look such as he might have thrown at an angry dog. Gyuri stood quiet again but his eyes shot flames and great drops stood out on his forehead.     

       “Now go on, friend Cardillac,” continued the detective. “We were talking about Red Betty.”      

       “I strangled her. She did not even know she was dying. She was such a weak old woman, it really couldn’t have hurt her.”      

       “No, certainly not,” said Muller soothingly, for he saw that the thought that his victim might have suffered was beginning to make the madman uneasy. “You needn’t worry about that. Old Betty died a quiet death. But tell me, how did Gyuri know that she had money?”      

       “The whole village knew it. She laid cards for people and earned a lot of money that way. She was very stingy and saved every bit. Somebody saw her counting out her money once, she had it in a big stocking under her bed. People in the village talked about it. That’s how Gyuri heard of it.”      

       “And so he commanded you to kill Betty and steal her money?”      

       “Yes. He knew that I loved to give them riddles to guess, just as I did in Paris so long ago.”      

       “Oh, yes, you’re Cardillac, aren’t you? And now tell us about the smith’s swineherd.”      

       “You mean Janos? Oh, he was a stupid lout,” answered Varna scornfully.     

 Prev. P 40/48 next