She had also presumably suffered, sensitive like Philip, from the stigma of being the unattractive - the changeling child - of the family.
Finally, in her very marrow, had run the essential crooked strain of old Leonides.
She had been Leonides's grandchild, she had resembled him in brain and in cunning - but his love had gone outwards to family and friends, hers had turned to herself.
I thought that old Leonides had realised what none of the rest of the family had realised, that Josephine might be a source of danger to others and to herself.
He had kept her from school life because he was afraid of what she might do.
He had shielded her, and guarded her in the home, and I understood now his urgency to Sophia to look after Josephine.
Magda's sudden decision to send Josephine abroad had that, too, been due to a fear for the child?
Not, perhaps, a conscious fear, but some vague maternal instinct.
And Edith de Haviland?
Had she first suspected, then feared - and finally known?
I looked down at the letter in my hand.
Dear Charles. This is in confidence for you - and for Sophia if you so decide.
It is imperative that someone should know the truth.
I found the enclosed in the disused dog kennel outside the back door. She kept it there.
It confirms what I already suspected.
The action I am about to take may be right or wrong - I do not know.
But my life, in any case, is close to its end, and I do not want the child to suffer as I believe she would suffer if called to earthly account for what she has done.
There is often one of the litter who is "not quite right".
If I do wrong. God forgive me - but I do it out of love.
God bless you both.
Edith de Haviland I hesitated for only a moment, then I handed the letter to Sophia.
Together we again opened Josephine's little black book.
Today I killed grandfather.
We turned the pages.
It was an amazing production. Interesting, I should imagine, to a psychologist.
It set out, with such terrible clarity, the fury of thwarted egoism.
The motive for the crime was set down, pitifully childish and inadequate.
Grandfather wouldn't let me do bally dancing so I made up my mind I would kill him.
Then we would go to London and live and mother wouldn't mind me doing bally.
I give only a few entries. They are all significant.
I don't want to go to Switzerland - I won't go.
If mother makes me I will kill her too - only I can't get any poison.
Perhaps I could make it with youberries.
They are poisonous, the book says so.
Eustace has made me very cross to day.
He says I am only a girl and no use and that its silly my detecting.
He wouldn't think me silly if he knew it was me did the murder.
I like Charles - but he is rather stupid.
I have not decided yet who I shall make have done the crime.
Perhaps Brenda and Laurence - Brenda is nasty to me - she says I am not all there but I like Laurence - he told me about Chariot Korday - she killed someone in his bath.
She was not very clever about it.
The last entry was revealing.
I hate Nannie... I hate her... I hate her...
She says I am only a little girl.
She says I show off.
She's making mother send me abroad... I'm going to kill her too - I think Aunt Edith's medicine would do it.
If there is another murder, then the police will come back and it will all be exciting again.
Nannie's dead.
I am glad.
I haven't decided yet where I'll hide the bottle with the little pill things.