Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t think she killed Percy,” Contance told Solomon as they left the house together and walked up the track toward the farm cottage nearest to the house. “But she’s still keeping something from us. She asked about David.”
Solomon glanced at her. “What did you say?”
“Nothing of substance. But she thinks he’s fragile.”
“That’s not good,” Solomon said ruefully.
“You think she’ll take advantage of that?”
He blinked. “I hope not. But no man likes to appear fragile to a lady. Not at first.”
“We see more than you think, you know. Did you learn anything from the servants?”
“No. They remember Clarence playing outside, but no one saw Percy, or anyone else. Perhaps we’ll have more luck with those who work outside.”
But it seemed such was not to be the case.
Neither the farmer’s wife at the first cottage, nor any of the workers they encountered as far as the boundary with Larchford, claimed to have seen Percy or any other gentleman that Thursday afternoon.
Constance and Solomon walked on past the wood that formed part of the boundary, toward the canal.
The land was rougher here, used occasionally for sheep, apparently, but there was one last, tiny cottage, occupied by an injured laborer who was convalescing while his wife sold her baking at the market to make ends meet.
Constance and Solomon came upon him sitting on a stool and gazing downhill at the canal and the land beyond.
His left leg was heavily bandaged. A careless moment with a scythe during harvest had apparently laid him low, though he seemed to accept his temporary fate as something of a boon.
His children, who were busy cutting wood, cooking, and cleaning the house, brought him food and watered ale and politely offered the same to their visitors.
They declined, although Constance was grateful for the stools one of the children brought for them to sit on while they talked to his father.
“So this is how you spend your convalescence?” Solomon said. “Watching the world go by?”
“Never had the time for such before,” said the laborer who had introduced himself as Joshua. “But it’s kind of peaceful, watching the boats punt up and down the canal. When they come. More exciting when they’re pulled along by horses, but there are even fewer of those.”
You could just make out the distant lock from here, and the moving figure that might have been George West.
“You’ll see all the comings and goings, too,” Constance remarked. “I don’t suppose you saw anyone around here last Thursday afternoon?”
His gaze moved reluctantly to hers. “You mean the day young Harvey died?”
“Exactly.”
Joshua did not look alarmed. “I saw him.”
“Percy?” Solomon said quickly. “Where? Down at the canal?”
“Oh no. He were in the woods.” Joshua waved a hand toward the trees that spread almost from the canal to the top of the hill.
“How did you see him then?” Solomon asked. “It’s pretty thick in there.”
“It is,” Joshua agreed. “But I saw him all the same. He came out for a look. Think he saw me, because he dodged back in again.”
“What time was this?” Constance asked.
Joshua shrugged. “’Bout two, maybe? A bit after?”
“And where exactly did you see him?” Solomon asked.
Joshua called for the boy chopping wood behind the cottage, who came and helped his father lever himself upright, then supported him the few steps to the side of the house. Constance and Solomon followed.
“See those young trees that stick out from the rest? I saw him just there.”
“Did you get a sense of which direction he was moving in?” Solomon asked. “Across the wood toward Larchford?”
“Maybe,” Joshua said, clearly reluctant to disagree with a gentleman. “But looked to me he were heading straight up the hill. Just over the rise, there’s a path that leads to Dare Hall. Can’t see it from here.”
“You think he was calling on Mrs. Jenkins?” Constance said.
Joshua snorted. “She won’t give him the time of day. Didn’t stop him watching her, though.”
“Was he on foot?” Solomon asked. “Did you see his horse?”
“Never saw any horse.” Joshua thought some more. “Might have heard one, though.”
So Percy could have ridden straight here, fortunate not to have been seen by anyone other than the old woman, and left his horse in the wood while he approached Dare Hall—with what purpose? To annoy Adelaide? Just to watch her? To propose marriage? Or enforce her submission?
“Did you see anyone else that afternoon?” Constance asked. “Mrs. Jenkins or her little boy?”
“Nope. Though I could hear the lad laughing sometimes. Drifts over from the big house on the breeze. Good-natured little fellow.”
“What about any other gentlemen?” Solomon asked. “Someone told us they saw a gentleman on this side of the canal.”
“Not apart from Percy. But then I went inside for a nap about three. Rain had come on.”
“You didn’t by any chance hear a shot that afternoon?” Solomon asked.
Joshua stroked his bristly chin. “No.”
“You don’t sound very certain,” Constance pointed out.
“I was asleep,” Joshua protested. “Sometimes I dream I hear the church bell, or the house falling down, but I still wake up to silence and a roof over my head.”
“But you dreamed that afternoon of a gunshot?” Solomon pursued.
“It was a loud crack. Might have been anything. Woke up to silence apart from the girls squabbling in the kitchen. I went back to sleep.”
“Do you know what time this dream woke you?” Constance asked, with more hope than expectation.
“Probably not long after three,” Joshua said, after some rumination. “I hadn’t nodded off for long.”
“Then you didn’t see or hear anything go into the canal that afternoon?” Constance asked.
Joshua shook his head.
“I didn’t,” the boy volunteered. “And I was working outside while me da slept.”
Constance turned and gazed down to the canal. Some of the view toward Larchford was blocked by the wood.
“Thank you,” Solomon said. “You’ve both been very helpful.” He offered Constance his arm, and as one they walked back up the hill as far as the place Joshua claimed to have glimpsed Percy before he darted back into the trees.
“He was up to no good,” Constance said. “Perhaps Adelaide had to shoot him? And yet I don’t think she did.”
“Someone could have shot him for her,” Solomon said.
A servant? That would explain Adelaide’s silence on the matter. She would never give up someone who had rescued her, especially not someone who was likely to pay far more than a person with standing and money…
“I got no sense of a conspiracy of silence,” Solomon said. “Which doesn’t mean there isn’t one. And you’re right. There’s something she isn’t telling us…”
They began to search upward, along tracks and amongst the trees and undergrowth. They scoured the ground with their eyes, and poked bushes and stones with sticks Solomon shaped for the purpose.
They were near the top of the hill, and Solomon had moved to the right of the track, when he spoke her name quietly.
He was gazing at a tree trunk. Constance hurried to join him, and he pointed to what looked like a dark stain on the bark.
Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he wet it with his saliva and rubbed the stain.
His handkerchief showed a dull, pinkish red.
“Old blood,” Constance said. “He was shot here…”
“Possibly. He might have grabbed the tree for support, leaned against it…or it might be older blood from some other incident entirely. Or just staining from the bark.” His gaze dropped to the track. “There have been wheels along here.”
“More than one lot shows in places,” Constance said. “Where the trees are thickest and little rain gets through. Let’s say he was shot and died here. Unless whoever killed him was very strong, he or she would have needed a vehicle to transport his body from here to the canal.”
“And Joshua’s boy would not necessarily have seen the vehicle emerge, and the body tipped in… Let’s go down and see where such a vehicle might have emerged.”
“That track,” Constance said as they moved downward, gesturing beyond the point they had entered the wood, “must lead to Larchford House.”
“So Percy must have been heading to Dare Hall—surreptitiously. Only he never got there.”
Eventually, they emerged from the wood, only yards from the canal.
“I can’t see Joshua’s cottage from here,” Solomon said.
“Nor Larchford House. It’s a quiet spot on both banks. Only a chance passerby is likely to have seen him. Or a canal boat crew, I suppose.”
“And he must already have been dead before Fred Baines’s barge passed here to tie up.
The water had already surged down into the lock, carrying his body with it.
It would be easy enough for the murderer to stay hidden in these trees until the coast was clear, and he could tip Percy’s body into the canal. ”
“But someone could have seen him earlier,” Constance said. “The old woman saw a gentleman on this side of the bank, further downstream, nearer Dare Hall.”
“It’s more likely to have been Percy. He was on horseback, not driving a wheeled cart or whatever.”
Constance nodded. “So it probably wasn’t the murderer she saw there at all. It must have been Percy. So there were two people skulking around Dare Hall land without seeing each other until they came face to face up there in the woods?”
“It’s possible.” He sighed. “It’s also possible Adelaide, or her servant, shot Percy, and went home to fetch a cart to carry the body down to the canal. Any caller at Dare Hall would have been denied.”
“And were too embarrassed or afraid to tell us of their presence?” Constance widened her eyes. “Did Adelaide have another suitor?”
“Someone she’s protecting,” Solomon said slowly. “Either for reasons of reputation or because she fears that person murdered Percy. For her.”
“Everett,” Constance said in triumph. “He’s the only one who defends her. He said outright that the Harveys are wrong about her. But did he shoot Percy? Or is he covering for her?”