‘I would guess Luce didn’t have the guts to fight his way out, and maybe didn’t even believe what was going to happen until it was too late. Those damned razors are so sharp… Having forced Luce at gunpoint to hold the razor properly, I think Ben just reached out, grabbed Luce’s hand, and it was all over. I can see Luce screaming and gibbering in fear, not even realizing what Ben was doing to him until it was done. You don’t realize it, with something as sharp as a Bengal razor.’

Frowning, she thought about it. ‘But his hand wasn’t bruised, Neil,’ she objected. ‘If it had been, Major Menzies would have seen it. And Ben must have had to grip Luce very hard indeed.’

‘Hands don’t bruise all that easily, Sis. Not like arms. The major wouldn’t have been looking for anything more than external bruising—this isn’t Scotland Yard, thank God. And it was done, knowing Ben, so quickly. He must have thought and thought about how he was going to kill Luce. It wasn’t spur of the moment. And yet he could never have carried it through without being found out, because the minute it began to happen he went slightly mad—or mad in a different way; I don’t know. Besides, he wasn’t worried about getting caught. He just wanted to dispatch Luce in a way he knew would ensure Luce retained consciousness until the end. Because I think what he really wanted Luce to see was the maiming of his own genitalia.’

‘Was Luce dead when you got there?’

‘Not quite. That was what saved our bacon. We got Ben away from him just before Luce went into some sort of death convulsion, still hanging onto the razor, and bleeding like a fountain. There were vital arteries severed. So while Matt took Ben outside and kept watch, Nugget and I tidied up. It only took a few minutes. What took the time was waiting until we were absolutely sure Luce had breathed his last, because we didn’t dare touch him.’

‘It must have occurred to you to fetch help, to try to save him,’ she said, tight-lipped.

‘Oh, my dear, there was not the slightest chance of saving him! Give me more credit than that! Had we been able to save him, Ben wouldn’t have been in such jeopardy. I’m not medically trained, no, but I am a soldier. I admit I never liked Luce, but it was hell to have to stand there and watch the man die!’

Grey-faced, he leaned to ash his cigarette, watching her absolutely absorbed, pain-filled eyes.

‘Nugget was remarkably calm and competent, would you believe that? It just goes to show that you can live with a man for months without ever knowing what’s inside him. And in all the days afterward, not once did I see him look as if he was going to lose his nerve.’

His hand shook as he decided to stub the cigarette out. ‘The worst part was being sure we had done everything possible to make it look like a suicide, that we hadn’t overlooked anything which might lead to a suspicion of murder… Anyway, when we finished, we took Ben down to the next bathhouse, and while Matt kept watch—he’s an excellent night watchman, he hears everything—Nugget and I hosed Ben down. He was covered in blood, but luckily he hadn’t got his feet in it. I don’t think we could have obliterated footprints. We burned his pajama pants. You were a pair short on your laundry count, do you remember?’

‘How was Ben?’ she asked.

‘Very calm, and quite unrepentant. I think he still feels he was only doing his Christian duty. To him Luce wasn’t a man, he was a demon from hell.’

‘So you shielded Benedict,’ she said coldly. ‘All of you shielded him.’

‘Yes, all of us. Even Michael. The minute you told him Luce was dead, he realized what must really have happened. I felt very sorry for Mike. You would have thought his own hand had done the deed, he was so upset, so choked with remorse. Kept saying he ought not to have been so self-centered, ought not to have stayed with you, that his duty was to stay with Benedict.’

She didn’t flinch; this too was a part of her share of the guilt. ‘He said that to me, too. That he ought not to have stayed with me, that he ought to have been with him. He… him! He never used a name! I thought he meant Luce.’ Her voice broke, she had to pause to compose herself before going on. ‘It never, never occurred to me that he meant Benedict! I assumed he meant Luce, and I assumed he was homosexually involved with Luce. All the things I said, all the things I did! How much I hurt him! And what a mess I made of it! I’m ill even remembering.’

‘If he didn’t use a name, you made a natural mistake,’ Neil said. ‘His papers implied homosexuality.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘From Luce, via Ben and Matt.’

‘You’re a very clever man, Neil. You knew or guessed it all, didn’t you? And you set out to compound the confusion, deliberately. How could you do that?’

‘What else did you expect us to do?’ he asked, using the collective rather than the singular. ‘We couldn’t just hand Ben over to the authorities! Luce was no loss to the world, and Ben certainly doesn’t deserve to be shut up in some civilian mental asylum for the rest of his life because he killed Luce! You forget! We’re all inmates of ward X! We’ve had a tiny taste of what life must be like for mental patients.’

‘Yes, I understand all that,’ she said patiently. ‘But it doesn’t negate the fact that you took the law into your own hands, that you deliberately elected to cover up a murder, and that you also elected to deprive me of any opportunity to rectify the matter. I would have had him committed on the spot had I known! He’s dangerous, don’t any of you understand that? Benedict belongs in a mental asylum! You were wrong, all of you, but you especially, Neil. You’re an officer, you know the rules and you’re supposed to abide by them. If you plead your own illness as an excuse, then you belong in an institution, too! Without obtaining my consent, you’ve made me a party to it, and had it not been for Michael, I would never have known. I have a lot to be grateful to Michael for, but above all, I’m grateful to him for telling me how Luce really died. Michael’s thinking isn’t the straightest, either, but he’s one up on the rest of you! Thank God he told me!’

He threw his cigarette case down on the desk so violently that it bounced into the air and fell to the floor with a clatter, the catch springing open, cigarettes flying. Neither of them noticed; they were too intent upon each other.

‘Michael, Michael, Michael!’ he shouted, face convulsed, tears starting to his eyes. ‘Always, always Michael! For God’s sake will you snap out of this—this obsession you have for Michael? Michael this, Michael that, Michael, Michael, Michael! I am so sick to death of that bloody name! Since the moment you set eyes on him you’ve had no time for anyone else! What about the rest of us?’

As in that scene with Luce, there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide; she sat there filled with a dawning understanding of what Neil was crying from the heart about, her anger at him suddenly vanquished.

Rubbing his hand angrily across his eyes, he fought visibly for self-control, and when he spoke again he tried to make his voice sound calmer, more reasonable. Oh, Neil, she thought, how you’ve changed! You’ve grown. Two months ago you could never have managed that kind of self-discipline in the midst of such torment.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I know you love him. Even Matt, blind as he is, saw that a long time ago. So let’s take it as read, and put it to one side as the prime consideration. Before Mike came you belonged to all of us, and we belonged to you. You cared about us! Everything you had, everything you were, was channeled to us—toward healing us, if you like. But when you’re sick you can’t see it as objectively as that; it’s completely, exclusively personal. You—you wrapped us in you! And it never occurred to any of us that you spent your heart anywhere but inside X, and on us. When Michael came, it stuck out like a sore thumb that there was nothing the matter with him. To us, that meant you shouldn’t need to bother with him at all. Instead—you turned right away from us, you went toward him. You abandoned us! You betrayed us! And that’s why Luce died. Luce died because you looked at what Michael was, all that sanity and—and strength of being, and you loved it. You loved him! How do you think that made the rest of us feel?’