Miss Peach set down her sewing. “Oh… oh, yes, that is very true. So very fashionable as you gentlemen are, and Lucinda so elegant and lovely. No one takes any notice ofme.Why should they? I am nobody, nobody at all. I wonder… Pickering… but I should like to be allowed to wander around on my own, Captain Edgerton. I can go into places… low shops, taverns and the like… which Lucinda would not wish to enter.”
“Not if there is the slightest risk, Miss Peach,” Michael said firmly. “It is one thing to join Mrs Dewar’s sewing circle atBirchall, and quite another to go snooping round places where unsavoury characters may gather. That I could not permit.”
“No, no, nothing of that nature. I was thinking more of the cheap haberdasheries and the like, or the common rooms of inns — not the tap rooms, I do assure you! But there is so much to be gleaned merely by sitting over a bowl of soup and listening, or chatting over a length of ribbon.”
“Very well, but do be careful, Miss Peach.”
“Oh, yes, Captain. I am a very careful person, always.”
“Excellent,” Michael said, folding away Miss Strong’s letter again.
“And what about me, Captain?” Sandy said. “Ye’ll have some plan for me, I’m sure.”
“Ah, now you and I will start interviewing beyond the castle, so be sure to stock up on paper, quills and ink, and we shall start with Mr Eustace Atherton.”
“Why him?” Sandy said, face lighting up with interest. “Do ye have some guid reason tae suspect the man?”
“None at all, apart from the small matter that the axe was his, and we have only his word that it was part of the display on the stairs,” Michael said promptly. “Apart from that, he lives twelve miles away, and seemingly was tucked up in bed with a female at the time of the murder. However, it would be good to scratch him off the list of possible murderers once and for all. Everyone we can definitively place elsewhere can be removed from all suspicion, which reduces the pool of potential axe killers. And when we have done that, perhaps he will show us his collection of assorted weaponry. I have only had the privilege once, but I should dearly like another look.”
“Ah, swords,” Sandy said knowingly. “Ye’s mortal fond of swords.”
“Not mere swords… sabres, javelins, scimitars, falchions, cutlasses, halberds, claymores, broadswords—”
“Right, right… lots of swords.”
“And firearms, too. He has any number of pistols, muskets and rifles, and a collection of cannons in his garden, although not all in working order. I could spend a month at his house and not exhaust my interest.”
“Not all? Does that mean somearein working order?” Sandy said eagerly. “When can we go there?”
Michael laughed. “Soon, but I must write and give him notice of our visit first. We cannot descend on him unannounced.”
“No?” Pettigrew said. “Is that not the best way to discover the truth, to arrive unexpectedly, so that the object of the visit has no chance to prepare?”
Michael frowned. “That is a good point, but then I have no reason to suspect him. Besides, he is the son of an earl and entitled to the courtesy of that rank, and no less because he is now illegitimate. We must be respectful to these people, otherwise the earl may close us down altogether.”
***
Michael and Sandy rode out across the moors to Welwood-on-the-hill on a glorious summer’s day that lifted their spirits immeasurably. At least, it lifted Michael’s spirits, for the Scotsman never seemed downhearted.
Michael reined in his horse beside a narrow tower, a monument perhaps to some long forgotten battle.
“Look at this,” Michael said, taking in the vista with an expansive sweep of his arm. “Is this not the most wondrous of views? There is something magical about moorland, do you not think? So much open space, just an occasional tree to disturb the skyline, birds flitting here and there, and the music of little streams.”
“Aye, it’s bonny enough,” Sandy said, “but I prefer the works of men. Productive fields of corn or cattle, or the liveliness of a town suit me better. There’s nothing but sheep here.”
“Very profitable, sheep,” Michael said, smiling. “But we had best get on. We would not want to keep Mr Eustace Atherton waiting. You remember the plan?” He urged his horse into motion again.
“Aye, I do. Ye’ve drilled it into me enough times, and I cannae see the point. Mr Eustace the Libertine was cosily in bed with his lady-bird at the time of the murder, wasn’t he? And even if he’d been minded to murder the chaplain, he’d have had to find his way across the moor at night through this rabbit-warren of criss-crossing tracks, and back again. I dinnae see how he’d have done it.”
“Neither do I, to be truthful,” Michael said. “I cannot see any of the family slaughtering the chaplain in cold blood, but I have to be sure of that before I can move on to consider those from outside the family. And Eustace isclever.The earl himself and the eldest son are straightforward types, not well endowed with mental acuity, but the other two sons are more interesting. I think Eustace might be capable of this kind of convoluted murder, if he set his mind to it.”
“Is it convoluted?” Sandy said. “Seems simple enough tae me.”
“It is convoluted enough to appear simple,” Michael said tersely. “Nothing about this case is simple. The sweet, saintly chaplain turns out to be anything but a saint, and who knows how many other secrets there are to uncover? No, there is more to this than meets the eye. Ah, that must be Welwood on that rise. He has a fine view, does Mr Eustace.”
Welwood was an undistinguished house, of no architectural or historic importance, and surrounded by gardens that could most charitably be described as pleasant. There was a high wallaround it, so Michael and Sandy were obliged to return to the road to reach the gates. Across the road, an elderly horse gazed mournfully over the hedge at them.
Mr Eustace himself emerged from the house to greet them, as grooms emerged to take care of the horses. “Welcome back, Captain. Welcome, Mr Alexander. I am quite ready for the inquisition. I have cleared the whole day for you. I trust that will be sufficient?”
