“I beg your pardon,” Edgerton said, opening the gate for Kent to lead his horse out. “You must think me insane, I suppose, but I have recently discovered that Miss Peach had a mule to ride, so she could have ventured a great deal further than we originally supposed. Even here, perhaps.”
“Why would she come here?” Kent said uneasily.
“No reason in the world, that I can see,” Edgerton said easily. “It was just the mention of droppings that set a hare running in my mind. Miss Peach had talked about mule droppings — it was a problem, but she had solved it, somehow. It occurred to me that droppings would betray that she and her mule had been at a certain place, but if she could put the animal into a field like this one, neither the mule nor the droppings would be noticed, and the tower would supply her with a safe hiding place. But there can be no reason why she would be here, so put it out of your mind. Shall we ride down to the road together or are you going over the moors?”
For the first mile or so, they were heading in the same direction. Edgerton was humming, a low, melodious tune, clearly satisfied with his morning. Kent was less satisfied. In one sense, it had been a successful meeting, for Strong had seen nothing untoward, and Edgerton had professed himself uninterested in the smuggling operation. Kent had not managed to keep the captain away from the tower, as Eustace had wanted, but no damage had been done.
Yet the question of Miss Peach occupied his mind. Was it possible she had reached the tower on her mule? She could have left the mule in the field, and stayed inside the tower, and no one any the wiser… unless someone arrived unexpectedly and saw her bag there. But it was so unlikely! There was no need to tell Edgerton, surely? If he knew of it, he would be crawling all over the tower looking for clues, and any hope of reviving the smuggling would be gone for weeks, perhaps, and Eustace would be furious.
But Miss Peach had been murdered, and Kent knew beyond all doubt that he ought to tell Edgerton that she might have been at the tower. It was the right thing to do. He understood suddenly just why Katherine had felt obliged to report him to the magistrate — that, too, was the right thing to do.
By the time they came to the point of separation, when Edgerton was to head east to Pickering, Kent had made his decision.
“Edgerton, it is just possible that your Miss Peach was at the tower two weeks ago.”
The captain’s eyes lit up. “Tell me more.”
“I was out riding with… with Miss Parish and my cousins Lucas and Emily, and I brought Miss Parish into the tower to show her the view. In the room at the top of the tower, we saw that the bed had been used, and there were signs of a meal being taken, and a candlestick. And a bag, a green leather bag, hidden behind the sofa. The telescope had been moved round to face Welwood, just as it is today. I moved it back, yet someone has moved it again. And… if she rode a mule, it could have been put in the field to graze. I thought you ought to know.”
“Thank you, Mr Atherton. That is most interesting,” Edgerton said. “So you did not see Miss Peach yourself?”
“No. There was no one there, just the bag and things to show someone had been there.”
“What was in the bag?”
“It was locked, so I cannot tell you.”
“And what did you do about it?”
“Nothing myself. The tower is Eustace’s responsibility, so I left a note at Welwood to let him know about the intruder. He was away at the time, and by the time he checked, there was no sign of anyone. The bag had gone and the place was tidy. You may ask Miss Parish if you wish to verify all this.”
Edgerton smiled, showing his teeth. “Oh, I have no doubt that she will corroborate everything you have told me. But I wonder, Mr Atherton… I very much wonder whether you did, in fact, return to the tower and find Miss Peach there. I wonder whether she told you unpalatable facts that she had discovered, and whether you then strangled her in a fit of rage. Then, no doubt, you conveyed her body to Tonkins Farm to throw us completely off the scent, and arranged the hay barn in a way that was almost convincing. Did you, Mr Atherton?”
It was said so calmly, so conversationally that Kent was almost too taken aback to speak. It was so preposterous he actually laughed. “No! You are insane if you think any such thing, Captain. Why on earth would I murder Miss Peach?”
“Because she had discovered that you murdered Mr Nicholson.”
Kent laughed again, shaking his head. “You forget that I saw the murderer descending the main stairs as I raced towards Aunt Alice.”
“Perhaps you lied.”
“And again I ask — what reason could I possibly have for murdering Nicholson?”
Edgerton heaved a sigh. “Yes, that is where all my clever explanations founder. What reason indeed? I can make a case for anyone murdering Nicholson — you, your brother Walter, your father, Tess Nicholson, the Lady Alice, the butler. All of you were in the castle that night. I can even see the parson doing it — Mr Dewar is not a young man, but he is spry enough. I see him striding about the village, full of energy. I can even explain how your brother Eustace might have done it.”
“He was at home at Welwood.”
“So he was, with an entire houseful of servants to swear that he was tucked up in bed with Daisy Marler at the time. But perhaps he waited until she was fast asleep, crept out of bed, dressed, saddled a horse, rode across the moors at night, broke into the house, picked up the axe that he himself had brought there, and slaughtered the chaplain as he slept. He then slipped away, rode home, and got back into bed beside the sleeping Daisy with no one any the wiser.”
“That is preposterous!”
“No, no. I can call upon an excellent barrister who will make a very credible tale out of it. Credible enough to convince a jury, in any event. And do you know what stops me from doing any of this? I cannot find a single reason why anyone would have wanted Nicholson dead. No one bore a grudge, no one resented him enough to risk the hangman’s noose, no one was desperate enough to kill him. And until I can find the reason for it, I cannot know who it was who killed him. For myself, I think the answer lies at Pickering, so that is where I focus my efforts now.”
“Well, I am glad you are not seriously accusing me,” Kent said. “I should have regretted telling you about the visitor at the tower, if I had thought that would be the consequence.”
“I do not seriously accuse Mr Eustace, either. His grooms swear no horse left the stable that night, nor was any saddle taken, and Daisy Marler swears he was in bed all night.”
“Daisy Marler?” Kent frowned. “Do you know she is now acting as lady’s maid to Miss Parish?”
