by Charles Todd
Barrington’s missing notes. Was that why Trevose had burned them? Because Barrington had believed Victoria Grenville?
What had begun as curiosity must have become a very real fear that Barrington had learned more than was safe. And with a new man coming to take over, it was imperative to keep him in the dark. Small wonder Trevose had felt free to challenge him. He thought he had the upper hand.
Rutledge said, “It might have given some comfort to Harry Saunders’s family.”
“They have shown no sympathy for us. They told Mr. Barrington that we had lured Harry into the rowboat to mock him for being provincial.”
“Do you feel any responsibility for Harry Saunders’s death?”
“My father told me the dinghy had been interfered with. We didn’t kill him—we tried to save him. I wanted him to be all right. I shouldn’t have blamed him for Stephen’s death. I regret that. I should have been kinder to him. I wish I had been.” She shivered, saying in a hoarse whisper, “I’ve seen men close to death. It still haunts me.”
He let her go.
“Do you believe her?” Hamish asked as Rutledge walked down the passage toward the door.
Barrington did, he answered silently.
“That’s no’ an answer.”
“I don’t think,” Rutledge said slowly, “that even she knows what happened that afternoon. Or why.”
Grenville had told Mrs. Worth the story that had been agreed upon, leaving out that Kate had been taken in her place, saying nothing about the role Mrs. Grenville had played.
When she finally stepped out of the study, Rutledge could see that she was visibly shaken, unable to believe that her long ordeal was over. Grenville, coming out behind her, said quietly, “She does not intend to claim the body. There’s a distant cousin in Oxford.”
Turning to Rutledge, she said, “Could I ask you to take me back to Bodmin? To Dr. Learner’s surgery? It’s where I need to be.”
“With pleasure. If you will tell me your real name.”
She glanced at Grenville, then turned back to Rutledge.
“I have told you. Worth.” She said it with distaste. “My name before I was married was Sedgwick. Alexandra Mary Elizabeth Sedgwick. I shall petition to use it again.”
Mrs. Grenville was waiting in the hall by the stairs. She had packed a small valise with a few things, she told the woman she had impersonated, and with kindness and not a little curiosity, saw them to the door.
Rutledge drove to Boscastle first, where Mrs. Worth packed three valises, her own and one each for the two sisters. She was quick and efficient, and he could see how she had managed to survive on her own, a woman alone, for so long.
And then he took her to Bodmin and the doctor’s surgery.
She held out her hand to him at the door. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said, “but I shall always remember what you’ve done.”
“In the line of duty,” Rutledge answered, smiling.
“No. It was not.”
“You will remember to tell Dr. Learner that it’s finished?”
“Yes. Good day, Inspector.”
And then she was gone, stepping inside the surgery and shutting the door behind her.
He turned the bonnet toward the west again, speeding toward Wadebridge and then the road from there to the village, but he stopped before reaching it, walking up to the door of Padstow Place, his hand on the boot-shaped knocker, hesitating. Then he lifted it.
Although it was very late, Mrs. Grenville welcomed him, her face alight with happiness. “My husband has told me. The charges have been withdrawn. Mr. and Mrs. Saunders were understandably upset, but in time I think they’ll agree with the magistrate’s findings. There will be an inquest tomorrow. Are you heading back to London? Or will you attend it?”
“There are a few matters still to conclude in the village. I must speak to the Chief Constable. But I’ll be leaving tomorrow no later than noon. After the inquest. I thought perhaps Miss Gordon would care to travel back to London with me. If she has recovered.”
He hadn’t seen her since that night. The breakfast at the end of it. She hadn’t come down the several times he’d been at the Place since then.
Mrs. Grenville shook her head. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Rutledge. Her father came for her late this afternoon, and insisted they leave at once for London. I’m afraid she’s gone.”
He wanted to ask if she had left a message for him. But he felt it would not be for the best.
“Excellent,” he lied. “She’ll be in good hands.”
“And Mr. Langley is coming tomorrow—or is it today? It’s after midnight, I think. Elaine has already gone home to Chough Hall.” She smiled wryly. “The house is suddenly so quiet. That will take some getting used to. We are all so grateful, Mr. Rutledge. I waited for you, because I wanted to tell you so myself. It was a wonderful thing you did for Miss Gordon. And for Mrs. Worth. For all of us.”
He thanked her, and left.
He hadn’t wanted so much gratitude. He had wanted to see Kate, to be sure she had suffered no lasting harm.
And that was a lie too.
Very simply, he wanted to see her.
About the Author
CHARLES TODD is the author of the Bess Crawford mysteries, the Inspector Ian Rutledge mysteries, and two stand-alone novels. A mother and son writing team, they live in Delaware and North Carolina.
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Also by Charles Todd
THE IAN RUTLEDGE MYSTERIES
A Test of Wills
Wings of Fire
Search the Dark
Legacy of the Dead
Watchers of Time
A Fearsome Doubt
A Cold Treachery
A Long Shadow
A False Mirror
A Pale Horse
A Matter of Justice
The Red Door
A Lonely Death
The Confession
Proof of Guilt
Hunting Shadows
A Fine Summer’s Day
THE BESS CRAWFORD MYSTERIES
A Duty to the Dead
An Impartial Witness
A Bitter Truth
An Unmarked Grave
A Question of Honor
An Unwilling Accomplice
A Pattern of Lies
OTHER FICTION
The Murder Stone
The Walnut Tree
Credits
Cover design by James Iacobelli
Cover photographs: © Mark Fearon / Arcangel Images;
© Nancy Rose / Getty Images (gate)
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
NO SHRED OF EVIDENCE. Copyright © 2016 by Charles Todd. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST EDITION
ISBN 978-0-06-238618-2
EPub Edition FEBRUARY 2016 ISBN: 9780062386205
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