The door was pushed open wider and Walter’s father emerged from the darkness, candlestick in hand. “What the devil—? Oh, Edgerton, it is you. What are you doing on that table?”
“Avoiding the dogs, my lord. I am very glad you are here to vouch for me to Lord Birtwell, who is defending his home with admirable determination.”
“Well, it serves you right for creeping about in the middle of the night. Foolish thing to do, disrupting the household. If you want anything, just ring for it, like anyone else. I am going back to bed.”
And he stomped off again, his candle disappearing into the night.
“He is always cross when his sleep is disrupted,” Walter said.
Carefully setting his gun down on a high shelf, he lit some more candles, then shooed the dogs back to the kitchen where they habitually slept.
“Matt, go back to bed,” he said to the kitchen boy. “I can deal with this. Captain, you may get down now and explain to me what is going on. My father may be satisfied with the idea that you were looking for a bit of bread and cheese in the middle of the night, but I would like the full story. Did you really break in?”
“Indeed I did,” the captain said, hopping agilely from the table. “I need to understand just how this murder could have been committed. I tried the drainpipe, without success.”
Walter chuckled. “I heard about that.”
“Yes, well, not my finest hour. So I looked for some other way in. My inspection of the basement revealed a loose catch on the window here. Look… easy to pry open from the outside with a pocket knife.”
“Would one of the doors not be the easiest way in?”
“Certainly, if one has a key and it is not bolted on the inside, but that seems to be unpredictable. Whereas this window can be opened on any day of the week.”
“You have now proved satisfactorily that no one could have got in that way, not with the dogs around, anyway.”
“Ah, not quite, my lord,” the captain said with a smile. “Nostrangercould have got in, certainly, but someone who was known to the dogs — that would be a different matter.”
“So the murderer was not a stranger,” Walter said thoughtfully.
“Possibly. I have one more point of access to try. Would you be good enough to wait for me just inside the garden door, my lord?”
“It should be locked and bolted.”
The captain grinned. “So it should. Nevertheless, I should like to try it.”
Walter laughed, and agreed to it. The captain nimbly jumped onto the draining board, pushed open the window and hopped through. By the time Walter had crossed the kitchen and reached the garden door, it was already opening as the captain walked in.
“Unlocked, and the bolt is broken,” he said, then paused, waiting. “No dogs here? Ah, now I hear them coming, but there are service stairs just a few steps away. If I were to run…”
“Soanyonecould have walked in that night?”
“It would seem so,” the captain said, as the dogs poured into the passageway, tongues lolling.
Walter knelt to soothe them. “Hmm. So he might come back?”
“That is always possible. I am pleased to observe that you keep a loaded pistol to hand at night, my lord, but it might be wise to change the locks on all the external doors and to fix thatbroken window latch. And remind the servants to keep these doors locked and bolted at night.”
“I shall send for Tom Shapman first thing tomorrow,” Walter said. “And now perhaps we can go to bed.”
***
Tom Shapman turned out to be surprisingly young, not a day over twenty-five, a tall, well-built man with the sort of good looks which would set the local girls sighing. He changed all the external locks, fixed a broken bolt on the garden door, and then set about repairing the broken window latch, as Michael watched.
“Is this how he got in — the fellow that did for poor Mr Nicholson?” Shapman said, as he crouched on the scullery draining board to unscrew the window latch.
“It is possible,” Michael said cautiously.
“The doors would’ve been locked, I suppose, but anyone might have had a key,” Shapman said. “Happen there were several sets made.”
