Wesley’s statement to the police completely cleared Harry. Explaining how he had persuaded Blanche to return to the flat with him, he wrote that he had staged a quarrel about Benton in the taxi, and had hinted that Benton was having an affair with Julie. Blanche had risen to the bait, knowing Ben-ton’s weakness. Wesley had told her that Benton intended to see Julie as soon as Blanche and Wesley had left for the theatre. That was enough for Blanche. She stopped only long enough at the theatre for a drink, and then she and Wesley had returned to the flat by underground and had entered the building by the garage entrance. As Blanche was opening the front door, Wesley, remaining in the lift, had shot her and had thrown the gun into the hall. He had closed the lift gate a split second before the police arrived. It had been a near thing, but it had succeeded. The gun, he wrote, belonged to an American soldier, and he gave the man’s name and service number. He had bought it from him a couple of years ago and he was sure there would be no difficulty in tracing it.
Julie hugged the envelope containing the statement to her as she walked along Piccadilly. It represented Harry’s life. It was more than that: it was her future happiness as well. If she lost it nothing could save Harry. She clutched the envelope tightly, wondering if it wouldn’t be safer to take a taxi to the Kensington police station at once, just in case something did happen to it. But the temptation to go to Park Way and put on the Arctic fox to impress Dawson proved too strong. She knew she would look wonderful in the fur: like a film star. So she slipped the envelope into her handbag and looked up and down Piccadilly for a taxi.
As she was being whisked along Park Lane towards Knights-bridge, she continued to build castles in the air. The furs were worth thirty thousand. Of course, she wouldn’t get quite that amount for them, but if she got twenty thousand, think what she could do with it! If Harry wanted to stay in London it would be marvellous fun to find a flat and furnish it so it would be ready for him when he was released. While she was planning the colour scheme of the bedroom the taxi drew up outside Park Way.
She was a little uneasy about meeting the hall porter, but she needn’t have been. The hall porter had gone to lunch and his assistant hadn’t yet taken over. She found the entrance hall deserted.
No one saw her as she unlocked the front door of Wesley’s flat and entered. For a moment or so she stood just inside the hall, listening. It was odd to be back here, to see the faint brown stain still on the carpet and to smell once again Blanche’s perfume that still clung persistently in the air.
She went quickly to Blanche’s room, shut the door and snapped off the alarms. Then she opened the safe, turned off the light operating the photo-electric cell and stood for a moment admiring the furs. They were hers now; hers to do what she liked with. It was a moment of triumph. But she wasn’t going to forget the jewellery. Up to this moment she hadn’t had the chance of seeing Blanche’s complete collection, and the thought sent a thrill through her. They, too, would realize a lot of money.
She pushed the furs aside and stepped into the safe, putting her handbag on the top of the steel cabinet containing the jewellery. Then she realized in dismay she had no idea how to open the cabinet. The smooth, highly-polished door of the cabinet had no apparent keyhole, but there was a small black knob set in the centre of the door. She touched it, frowning, then her fingers tightened on it and she pulled.
There was a sudden rush of escaping air and doors of the safe slammed shut.
They found her four days later. It was Dawson who suddenly wondered if she had gone to collect her spoils and had been trapped in the safe. When at last they opened the doors they found her lying on the floor with the white Arctic fox she had coveted so much covering her, and Wesley’s statement clutched tightly in her hand. They were too late to do anything for her, but Harry was more fortunate. He got off with eighteen months. Oddly enough it was snowing when he came out, but there was no beautifully dressed young woman to meet him, only a Salvation Army lass who shook a self-denial collection box under his nose.