Chapter Twenty-one
The best possible surprise waited for us at Hadley Grange. George and Robert had returned. They must have arrived shortly after we left for Penhollow Manor, for they had already scrubbed off the dirt from their work and eaten their lunch, and they were now relaxing in the drawing room.
Rose spotted them first while we removed our outerwear and handed it off to Carter.
“Georgie!” she called and ran through the decorated archways and into his arms.
Fiona and I didn’t show much more decorum than Rose. After hugs and kisses, George, Rose, and I settled onto the sofa, my hand on George’s shoulder, Rose resting her head on his chest, and he with an arm around each of us.
“I cannot tell you how happy I am to have you back,” I said. In fact, I was surprised that his mere presence brought such relief to my mind. As long as we were together, nothing was insurmountable.
“I understand you’ve had quite a bit of excitement since we left.” He turned to Rose with a horrified expression. “Including a guest in the conservatory.”
“Is he still here?” I asked, perplexed. “The undertaker was supposed to move him to Penhollow Manor.”
“Still here and likely to remain another day,” Robert said from where he stood nearby, holding Fiona’s hand. “It’s Christmas Eve, after all. What exactly happened, and how did he end up here?”
Fiona stepped away from her husband and gestured to a chair. “You had better sit down, my dear magistrate. It is quite a story.”
“And perhaps Rosie should go upstairs,” George said, arching a brow.
I let out an inelegant snort. “There is no need to shelter Rose. The children have been right in the thick of this.” I leaned around George to catch my daughter’s eye. “However, I do think it’s time for Grace and Gregory’s tea if you want to join them.”
Rose gave George a kiss and bounded toward the door, where, much to my surprise, Cloud waited patiently for her. Perhaps he wasn’t as wild a dog as I thought. With a bark, he followed her down the hall to the stairs, his nails ticking against the floor.
“When did you get a dog?” George asked Fiona, who simply chuckled.
“I’m afraid he may end up being Rose’s dog, dear. Pending your approval, of course.” I gave him a wink.
“Which means unless I am willing to break her heart, Rose has a new dog.”
“It’s not that certain yet,” I said. “The owner may want him back. He was Dr. Penhollow’s dog.”
“What?” Robert’s outburst drew our attention. “Do you mean to tell me the dog who has been eating our chickens is in this house?”
Fiona patted his arm. “He’s been here for almost two days and hasn’t even noticed the chickens. I think he was falsely accused.”
“We can come back to the matter of the dog later,” George said. “Right now, I’d like to hear about Penhollow.”
Over the next thirty minutes, I believe we managed to give them all the pertinent details and bring them up to date on the investigation.
By the time we finished, Robert was staring, open-mouthed.
“This has always been such a quiet little hamlet, but the minute our backs were turned”—he gestured at George and himself—“someone commits murder!”
Fiona placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “You are an important man, Robert, but I hardly think the position of your back had anything to do with this. I believe Dr. Penhollow would have been murdered whether or not you were here.” She rolled her eyes and gave a little shake of her head.
“Yes, I suppose you are right, but someone killed the coroner, and they did it when the superintendent, the sergeant, and the magistrate were all gone. Leaving no one to investigate their fiendish crime.”
George winced. “You are treading on thin ice, Nash.” His voice held a note of amusement. “I am confident these ladies did a fine job of investigating.”
“Constable Ellis was very encouraging,” Fiona added.
Robert glanced at Fiona, who was glaring back at him. “Of course,” he said. “You have gathered a great deal of information, and I’m certain Sergeant Hewitt will be grateful. What I meant was that the murderer would not have expected anyone to investigate.”
“Hetty and I wondered about the timing,” I said.
“But only Ada Penhollow or Charlie Rallison could have given him the poison, knowing he would die by morning. Anyone else might have stolen the phosphorus and given it to him in food for him to consume, but they’d have no way of knowing when that would happen.
I think the absence of any police was just our bad luck. ”
“But maybe it was Ada Penhollow or Charlie Rallison,” George said. “You made a good case for motive and opportunity for both of them.”
“Unless we find out what happened to those missing vials of phosphorus, we may never know who killed him.” I held up my hands palms out. “Nevertheless, I am ready to turn over all our information to Sergeant Hewitt now.”
George gave me a narrow-eyed look. “Really? You could just walk away from the investigation when you are so close?”
“That’s at least the third time she’s said as much.” A smirk spread on Fiona’s lips. “Yet she keeps digging back in.”
“Aha! The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
“George,” I admonished. “I can’t have both of you teasing me.”
“Then allow me to test you,” he said. “I’d be happy to walk with you to the police station, if you like, but the post office is just a few steps farther.”
The post office? That’s right. Dotty Digby might know what happened to that damaged package of phosphorus. I hated to prove them right, but … “The post office it is.”
“That’s odd.” Tillie Digby’s face was a mask of confusion as she studied the thin logbook. “There’s no record of a damaged parcel on that date. Am I looking in the right place, Hugh?”
Our stop at the mercantile was not going as planned.
Dotty was under the weather and not available for our questions.
“Dr. Bertram stopped by earlier,” Hugh Digby had explained.
“He warned her on her last visit she was working too much. He didn’t like the look of her today and sent her home to rest.”
“She argued with him,” Tillie had added, “but Hugh threatened to make her stay home from the Rallisons’ tonight if she didn’t rest this afternoon.”
Though Hugh and Tillie tried to assist us, neither had Dotty’s expertise.
“This is the book,” Hugh insisted. “If a parcel arrived damaged, Dotty was supposed to make a record of it so the Royal Mail could track where the damage happened.”
“Perhaps she forgot this time,” George suggested.
Tillie sputtered, “Not Dotty. She was a stickler for the rules as far as the post was concerned.” She frowned and turned to Hugh. “But didn’t she start feeling poorly around that time? Maybe she did miss it, just this once.”
That’s right. Fiona had told me Tillie was here to assist Dotty, who had fallen ill. She’d looked quite tired when I saw her at the vicarage. Apparently, her health had not improved.
Hugh heaved a sigh. “Come back on Boxing Day. Dotty will be here, and she’ll be able to help you.”
Our luck was no better at the police station. Not only was Sergeant Hewitt not in his office, but neither was Constable Ellis or anyone else. The door was locked, and the note on the window said someone would be on duty at five o’clock.
Back on the street, I would have headed in the direction of Hadley Grange if George had not put a hand on my arm to stop me. “Is there something you need in the village?” I asked him.
“No,” he said, “but I just recalled that Charlie Rallison was working in our group. He came home this morning, too.” George forced a casual air, but it didn’t fool me for a moment. “You had wanted to speak with him, did you not?”
“Yes, I did.”
George spread his arms wide. “And here we are in the village … almost to his house. I mean, since we’re here, we might as well speak with him, don’t you think? Otherwise, this will have been a wasted trip.”
I truly had been more than ready to be done with this case, but George brought a fresh perspective—and enthusiasm. “Why not?” I said at last.
We found both Charlie and Nancy Rallison at their home. Nancy greeted us and led us to a small sitting room, where Charlie was relaxing in a deeply cushioned chair. He looked like a younger version of his father, with the same narrow face, a much thicker head of blond hair, and broader shoulders.
Upon recognizing us, he jumped to his feet, his hand moving to the stubble on his cheeks. “We weren’t expecting callers,” he said.
I waved him back to his seat. “We apologize for disturbing your rest. You’ve been doing physical labor for the past few days. Please don’t stand on our account.”
Still, he waited until George and I had seated ourselves before returning to his chair.
“They’re here to ask you about Dr. Penhollow,” Nancy said, taking the last empty chair in the small room.
Charlie glanced from me to George. “Nancy told me he was dead. Have you found out what happened?”
“If they knew what happened,” Nancy said, “d’ya think they’d be back here looking for you?”
Charlie drew back. “Looking for me? You don’t think I had a hand in it, do you? I wasn’t even here.” He gestured to George. “I was with you.”
“I think it’s highly unlikely that you had anything to do with Dr. Penhollow’s death, Mr. Rallison.” As I spoke, I noticed George close his mouth. I’d become so used to taking the lead, it hadn’t occurred to me that he might wish to do so.
Well, since I’d already begun … “We shall turn the investigation back over to Sergeant Hewitt as soon as possible. I’m sure he will want to speak with you.
There are still a couple of questions he’ll need to ask.
But since tomorrow is Christmas, Mr. Hazelton and I thought, why not ask you ourselves and get this behind you? Why ruin your holiday?”
Nancy looked understandably skeptical. “You think Sergeant Hewitt would haul himself out on Christmas Day to ask us questions?”
“It is murder he is investigating, after all,” I said, and again saw that I’d spoken a mere second before George. “And, Charlie, you were one of the last people to see him alive.”