Hemp distorting the time factor, so that she might believe an experience has lasted an hour instead of a few minutes. And a good many other curious substances that I have no intention of letting any of you know about. Somebody who was clever with drugs played merry hell with that girl.
Stimulants, sedatives, they all played their part in controlling her, and showing her to herself as a completely different person.” Restarick interrupted: “That’s what I say. Norma wasn’t responsible! Someone was hypnotising her to do these things.” “You still haven’t got the point! Nobody could make the girl do what she didn’t want to do\ What they could do, was make her think she had done it. Now we’ll have her in and make her see what’s been happening to her.” He looked enquiringly at Chief Inspector Neele, who nodded.
Stillingfleet spoke over his shoulder to Claudia, as he went out of the sitting-room. “Where’d you put that other girl, the one you took away from Jacobs, gave a sedative to? In her room on her bed? Better shake her up a bit, and drag her along, somehow.
We’ll need all the help we can get.” Claudia also went out of the sittingroom.
Stillingfleet came back, propelling Norma, and uttering rough encouragement.
“There’s a good gill… Nobody’s going to bite you. Sit there.” She sat obediently. Her docility was still rather frightening.
The policewoman hovered by the door looking scandalised.
“All I’m asking you to do is to speak the truth. It isn’t nearly as difficult as you think.” Claudia came in with Frances Cary.
Frances was yawning heavily. Her black hair hung like a curtain hiding half her mouth as she yawned and yawned again.
“You need a pick-me-up,” said Stillingfleet to her.
“I wish you’d all let me go to sleep,” murmured Frances indistinctly.
“Nobody’s going to have a chance of sleep until I’ve done with them! Now, Norma, you answer my questions– That woman along the passage says you admitted to her that you killed David Baker.
Is that right?” Her docile voice said: “Yes. I killed David.” “Stabbed him?” “Yes.” “How do you know you did?” She looked faintly puzzled. “I don’t know what you mean. He was there on the floor — dead.” “Where was the knife?” “I picked it up.” “It had blood on it?” “Yes. And on his shirt.” “What did it feel like — the blood on the knife? The blood that you got on your hand and had to wash off– Wet? Or more like strawberry jam.” “It was like strawberry jam — sticky.” She shivered. “I had to go and wash it off my hands.” “Very sensible. Well, that ties up everything very nicely. Victim, murder–you — all complete with the weapon. Do you remember actually doing it?” “No… I don’t remember that… But I must have done it, mustn’t I?” “Don’t ask me! I wasn’t there. It’s you are the one who’s saying it. But there was another killing before that, wasn’t there?
An earlier killing.” “You mean — Louise?” “Yes. I mean Louise… When did you first think of killing her?” “Years ago. Oh, years ago.” “When you were a child.” “Yes.” “Had to wait a long time, didn’t you?” “I’d forgotten all about it.” “Until you saw her again and recognised her?” “Yes.” “When you were a child, you hated her.
Why?” “Because she took Father, my father, away.” “And made your mother unhappy?” “Mother hated Louise. She said Louise was a really wicked woman.” “Talked to you about her a lot, I suppose?” “Yes. I wish she hadn’t… I didn’t want to go on hearing about her.” “Monotonous — I know. Hate isn’t creative.
When you saw her again did you really want to kill her?” Norma seemed to consider. A faintly interested look came into her face.
“I didn’t, really, you know… It seemed all so long ago. I couldn’t imagine myself– that’s why — ” “Why you weren’t sure you had?” “Yes. I had some quite wild idea that I hadn’t killed her at all. That it had been all a dream. That perhaps she really had thrown herself out of the window.” “Well — why not?” “Because I knew I had done it — I said I had done it.” “You said you had done it? Who did you say that to?” Norma shook her head. “I mustn’t.