“I see,” said Ernie not understanding.

Smiling, Father Dominique took him by one arm to lead him across to a small reading table in one corner of the library.   “You’ll understand after you’ve read the two diaries,” he explained, turning to leave Ernie in piece.

DIARY OF BENJAMIN CHARLTON

January 7th, 1887

The events that I am outlining herein all took place over the last month — although at times it seems like a distant memory from many years ago.

It all started, I suppose, with my decision to kill Aunt Aggie, to hasten my imminent inheritance.

It was in the early afternoon and Aunt Aggie stood at the top of the narrow staircase, staring down toward her feet.   She wrinkled up her nose and squinted in a vain bid to force her near blind eyes to focus.   While at the bottom of the stairs I stood in silence, waiting, watching, wondering when she would step forward toward me.   ‘Fall damn you, fall!’ I thought, trying to will the old bag forward to her death.   But try as I might I could not propel her forward by force of will alone.

Finally, however, she started forward…Only to stop again on the second-top step to stare long and hard down the staircase, seemingly straight at me.

‘She can’t possibly see me from this distance!’ I thought, terrified in case the old battle-axe knew that I was standing there waiting for my trap to spring.   After all, she’s as blind as a bat!

Yet for a long while it did seem as though Aunt Aggie could see me standing in the shadows on the lower landing, waiting for her death.

Finally the old bat started forward again, however, she had only gone a step or two when she let out a piercing shriek and fell head-over-heels down the stairs.   How can I describe my delight at watching the plump old bag land headfirst halfway down the staircase then roll like a beach ball down the red-carpeted stairs, head and legs smashing again and again into the railings as she went!   Until at last she came to rest almost at my very feet.