“A housemaid!” said Lady Alice and Lady Rennington in unison.
Izzy laughed. “Tess, you are the most outrageous girl!”
“Although she had black hair when I saw her,” Tess said.
“That is true,” Michael said. “I think with a black wig, as she used to wear when she visited Welwood, she looked somewhat like Miss Beatrice Franklyn. Your little fantasy, Mr Eustace. And perhaps, if you had succeeded in killing your brother, it would not have mattered that your alibi was a light-skirt, but when you realised you had killed Nicholson instead, the owner of the very house she lived in, you had to avoid any connection with Pickering. Hence the use of Daisy Marler, instead.”
“This is all very fanciful, Edgerton,” Eustace sneered. “So I drugged my entire household and rode here in the middle of the night, did I?”
“You did,” Michael said, with a swift grin.
“And how did I do that, without rousing the grooms who slept above the stables?”
“You rode one of the horses kept in the field across the road from your entrance gates. You keep a saddle in the shed there, for your various night-time activities, most of which do not interest me, but it was very convenient on that night in June.”
Eustace shook his head, but said nothing.
Michael went on, “You rode to Corland — I wonder how you chose the right direction? Did you check with the markings on your own gateposts, or does the horse know its way better than you? But that is of no consequence. You reached Corland, left your horse in the woods to the north of the lodge gates, climbedthe wall — there is a very convenient point where the coping stone has fallen off — and entered the castle, probably by the garden door, where the bolt was broken. I wonder if you broke it yourself? Possibly you did. The rest we know. The dogs knew you, so even if you encountered them, they would not have barked. You came up the service stairs and out into the great hall, a clear route with no confusing turns, you retrieved the hidden axe and then… then, sir, you had to choose a stair. Left or right? And in the darkness, in a panic in case you encountered a servant up early, you went up the wrong stair, entered the wrong room and murdered the wrong man. I can only imagine your dismay when you discovered your error.”
“He was astonished,” Walter said. “He came over that afternoon, and was amazed to hear that Nicholson had been murdered.”
“He did not usually call in that casual way,” Kent said, frowning. “He must have expected to be summoned as soon as Walter’s body was discovered, and came to find out why he had not.”
“For heaven’s sake, Kent!” Eustace cried. “Anyone would think youbelievethis farrago of nonsense!”
Kent lifted his head and looked his brother straight in the eye. “I do. I do believe it, Eustace. Because when you heard that Nicholson had been murdered, you did not say‘Murdered?’, as anyone might, on hearing such a thing. You said‘Nicholson?’.I thought it odd at the time, but now it makes sense. You were not surprised to hear there had been a murder. You were only surprised to hear that it was Nicholson who had died. Yes, you killed Nicholson, but you intended to kill Walter. I am sorry Nicholson died, but I am extremely grateful that you did not succeed in the crime you planned.”
It was Winnie who made the other obvious point. “And yet he did succeed, in a way. He managed to deprive Walter of both hisinheritance and his intended wife, although at least Walter has been spared any further attempts on his life.”
“But he tried to kill Bertram,” Kent said. “The inheritance was out of his reach for all time, but Bea was not. He had one last shot at winning her. Happily, he failed there, too.”
“And yet, what audacity!” Michael said. “To slip away from the gathering, run down to the basement, across the open space to the cheese store, climb the ladder to the hatch, take the shot and run back inside, emerging in time to aid the search for the gun, and at any moment risking discovery. Incredibly brazen, and carefully planned, too. He wore black that evening from head to toe, to make himself less visible as he crossed the void beneath the bridge. In the darkness, perhaps with his collar turned up to hide his white neckcloth, he would have been impossible to see. We can only be glad that his shot failed to achieve its objective.”
“But he succeeded in killing Miss Peach,” Luce said quietly.
“Yes,” Michael said. “I am afraid he did. She knew just too much for his comfort. She hid herself away in the tower, spying on Mr Eustace and all the comings and goings at Welwood. She no doubt saw Miss Wilkes leave the brothel in Pickering and step into Mr Eustace’s carriage, recognising it just as Lady Tarvin did. So she went to Welwood, to the tower, discovered the field between the tower and the house contained a few horses capable of making the journey to Corland, experimented with laudanum to see if it would be possible to induce an entire household to sleep soundly, and we can guess the answer to that. She wrote in her notebook that it only remained for her to find a saddle secreted in‘the obvious place’, as she described it. The obvious place being the shed in the field where she had herself hidden the saddle for her mule. That would complete the picture of the murder.”
“But she was killed before she found it,” Luce said.
“Unfortunately, she made a fatal mistake,” Michael said. “The laudanum caused her to oversleep one day, and she was almost discovered by Mr Kent Atherton. Her bagwasdiscovered, and Mr Kent reported that to his brother. Mr Eustace went to the tower to confront Miss Peach, and… we can only guess what was said at that meeting, but we know the result.”
“What nonsense!” Eustace said. “You should be writing novels, Captain Edgerton, with such a fanciful imagination.”
“It is not my imagination, however, that there was indeed a saddle hidden in the shed at the far side of the field. I had already found the saddle for Miss Peach’s mule buried in the straw, but when I looked further, I found another saddle, one designed for a full-sized horse. It was very well hidden, by the way. I had to shift a vast amount of hay before I found it. I should have liked to discover a green leather bag there, too, or even blood-stained clothing, but you were sensible enough to dispose of those. A saddle, however, is much harder to get rid of. So you buried it in the hay. It is all very ingenious, sir,” he said, gazing steadily at Eustace, “and you almost got away with it. You were greatly aided by Miss Peach’s love of conspiracy. If she had been less secretive, we could have arrested you months ago, and she would be alive today. But there are no more secrets and you will answer for your wickedness, both in this world and the next. Sir Hubert, will you arrest this man for the murders of Mr Arthur Nicholson and Miss Philomena Peach, and the shooting of Mr Bertram Atherton?”
“I will indeed,” Sir Hubert said grimly.
Lady Rennington gave a great wail of despair, her daughters clustering around her protectively. Even Lady Alice, the most phlegmatic of the Corland ladies, had her hand covering her mouth, eyes closed in distress. The men looked grim, but no one questioned Michael’s summary. He had expected objections, butapart from a few murmurs about finding the best lawyer from London, there was no resistance. Lord Rennington had his head in his hands. He believed it, and that was more telling than anything else.
Eustace himself, his face set, had nothing else to say. Sir Hubert led him out of the library and into the entrance hall, with Michael and Sandy following.
“Do you have somewhere secure to house him until he can be conveyed to York Gaol?” Michael said.
“There is a room in my cellar fitted up for the purpose,” Sir Hubert said.
“You will allow me to pack a few things first?” Eustace said. “I trust you would not have me incarcerated with only the clothes I stand up in?”
“Of course,” Sir Hubert said. “Lead the way to your room.”
