“Is she? I cannot imagine where Miss Parish might have met a girl like that.”
“In church!” Kent said, laughing. “Miss Parish is always in church. Oh! But I have remembered how it came about. Daisy was weeping and praying because she had done something wrong.”
“Indeed she has, and it is time she repented of hopping into bed with everyone who offers her money,” Edgerton said. “This is all very interesting, and I thank you for telling me, but I cannot think that Daisy Marler’s conscience bears on my present concerns. In return, I shall tell you something about your intruder at the tower. It was not Miss Peach. Her bag was made of stiffened cloth, a very shabby affair, not green leather, and it had no lock.”
“Then Eustace was right, it was just a casual wanderer.”
“So it would appear. What an interesting conversation this has been.”
21: Transgressions
Itwasagloomygroup that gathered in the parlour at the Black Swan at Pickering after Miss Peach’s funeral. Her sister from Harrogate had retired to her room, but Luce, Pettigrew, Sandy and James Neate sat around the table with Michael, sipping wine and nibbling unenthusiastically at the last remains of an extensive repast.
“What next?” Sandy said brightly. “Are we going to look at this tower over at Welwood?”
“What is the point?” Michael said morosely. “Miss Peach was never there.”
“Ye cannae be sure of that,” Sandy said.
“Wrong bag.”
“Ye’ve only Mr Kent Atherton’s word for that,” Sandy said. “Maybe he lied.”
Michael heaved a sigh. “Of course, but unless we can catch him out, what is the use? We have no specific suspect — anyone might have murdered Nicholson or Miss Peach, and, more to the point, we have no reason for murder. We have been in Yorkshire for more than four months, and we have discoverednothing.This has been my year of utter failure. I failed to protect the viscount in Westmorland, and I have failed to find the chaplain’s murderer. It is time to admit defeat and return to London, and maybe time for me to give up pretending to investigate murders altogether. I am clearly useless at it.”
The others all protested, but Michael shook his head. He had never felt so inept in his life.
“Michael Edgerton, I’m ashamed of ye!” Sandy cried. “What kind of cowardice is that? Giving up? When have you ever given up? To start with, ye can check if the man’s lying by asking Miss Parish.”
“Who is in love with him, so she is bound to support his version of events.”
“She’s also the lassie who reported his smuggling to the magistrate. She’s a fine Christian lady who’ll not lie to ye, but if ye’ll not go yerself, maybe I will. Aye, and I’ll ask her about Daisy Marler, too, and find out what’s troubling her conscience. She swore she was with Eustace Atherton the night of the murder, but maybe she lied about that. And someone needs to look properly at this tower place, to see if there’s any trace of Miss Peach there.”
“I admire your enthusiasm,” Michael said, “but I cannot see what good it will do. All our efforts so far have just been so much flailing about. We have nothing at all to show for it.”
“Nonsense, Michael,” Pettigrew said. “Your efforts have uncovered all the nasty little schemes set up by the supposedly virtuous chaplain, and you have recovered a great deal of the earl’s lost incomeandfound Miss Nicholson’s fortune, too.”
“But look at the damage caused by going through Nicholson’s papers. We learnt that he had never been ordained, and thus threw the earl’s entire family into the most distressing situation. That was an appalling shock for them all, and they need never have known.”
“It would have come out when the earl died, and his son attempted to claim the title,” Pettigrew said sombrely. “Better to know the truth now rather than later. Michael, if you want to slink away to London, then go, but I for one am not ready to give up yet. You have said many times that we are missing something crucial, and I agree, but if we stop looking we will never find it. We must keep going. Give it until the end of the year — six months after Nicholson’s death. If we still have nothing, then I think we will all be ready to concede defeat, but while we still have new tracks to follow, we owe it to the earl and his family, and to Miss Peach, to pursue them.”
Michael sighed. “Very well. Miss Parish, Daisy Marler and the tower.”
“And the mule,” Sandy said. “There is a missing mule to be found, too, and I for one would like to know if there are any mules in that field beside the tower. Oh, and two keys on Miss Peach’s keyring that wouldnae fit anything we could find.”
Michael laughed. “What a very persistent Scotsman you are, Sandy Saxby.”
Sandy grinned. “Aye, ye’ve taught me well, my friend.”
***
Michaelwentalonetosee Miss Parish. Sandy was wild to go with him, having been the one to persuade Michael of the necessity, but Michael wanted to see Miss Parish alone, and Sandy was far too young and personable to pass muster with the lady’s cautious aunt and uncle.
He went first to Mr Cathcart in his study, and put the case to him. As he had expected, Mrs Cathcart was then summoned for her approval.
“Alone? Is that necessary, Captain? She was not alone when you spoke to her before.”
“On that occasion, ma’am, I only required Miss Parish to confirm what everyone else had already told me. This time, I need her to describe everything she can recall about the interior of the tower, and in such cases, the presence of another person can be a great distraction.”
