'No. My mother died naturally. But he did kill his second wife.' The son's lips were drawn in a tight little smile. 'That's why I control what happens in Wheal Garth,' he added.
At that there was a terrific crash. We all swung round. Kitty was standing there in the open doorway, her face ghastly white and the broken remnants of the tea tray on the floor at her feet. '— I was bringing you some tea,' she said in a pitifully small voice.
'Better go back to the kitchen, Kitty,' I said.
She looked at me with staring eyes. Then she nodded slowly and went out as though in a daze.
Seeing her go so stunned by what she'd heard made me realise the pathetic tragedy of it all. This old man crazed with the lust for tin, and Kitty living here and not knowing he had murdered her own mother.
The old man saw the open door and suddenly darted towards it. I thrust out my foot and he pitched headlong to the floor. I'd have been on to him if his son hadn't suddenly barked at me to keep back. There was something in the way that man held a gun that made it clear he wouldn't hesitate to use it. The old man was scrambling to his feet. He reached the door, mumbling incoherently to himself. Then he vanished into the corridor.
'Let him go,' said Captain Manack. 'I'll look after him in a minute.' He motioned me to a seat. 'See here, Pryce,' he said. 'This has been a bit of a shock to you. But there's nothing you can do about it — not now. Killing him' — he jerked his head towards the open door — 'won't bring your mother back. He's mad. I've known it ever since I came back. The mine has driven him crazy. What happened this evening? What started all this?'
I told him. When I'd finished, he nodded slowly. 'I was afraid of that,' he said. 'But I thought his guilty conscience would keep him clear of you.'
'What are you going to do now?' I said. 'There must be some justice in the world.' I got to my feet. 'My God, Manack! I want the swine brought to justice. He drove my mother mad. The sheer, calculated cruelty of it is horrible. I want justice,' I cried, thumping the desk. 'And by God I'll have it, even if it means giving myself up and standing a court martial.'
'Listen,' he said. 'What good will that do you? None. Absolutely none. I'll look after the old man. I'll lock him up. From now on he'll be out of harm's way. You do the job you have to do. Then you clear off. He'll get his desserts. He'll spend the rest of his life wandering forlornly through the galleries of Wheal Garth watching the sea slopping about in the gallery that might have brought him a fortune. He's mad enough now. He'll die a crazy, pathetic old man. You'll have your revenge, if that's what you're seeking.'