by Carola Dunn
Seeing Dora, he asked, “Your husband’s, madam?”
“Yes, those are Godfrey’s. I wonder why he put them away dirty? I’d better clean them.” She held out her hand.
Tom shook his head. “Sorry, madam, I can’t let you have them just now.”
Alec took a pace forward. Tom turned the galoshes over to present the soles. Rich, dark brown leaf-mould clung in every groove of the patterned soles. Alec wished he had tried harder to find footprints near the chapel.
“Tucked in there right at the back,” said Tom.
Alec took out his handkerchief. “Wrap them up, Sergeant.”
Fright crept into Dora’s eyes. “W-what … ?” She moistened her lips. “Godfrey never goes into the woods. They must belong to someone else.”
“Who?” Alec asked gently.
“Not Miles! Miles always wears boots.” She glanced beyond Alec and moaned.
Captain Norville and Tremayne had both come in behind Alec. Their feet displayed, respectively, a pair of salt-stained sea-boots and a pair of sturdy countryman’s boots.
Tremayne looked at Alec’s face and moved to take his daughter’s arm. “Come with me, Dora.”
He led her away unresisting. Her tortured expression hurt Alec. Why did people never consider the effect on their nearest and dearest when they took it into their heads to commit murder?
“If it’s all right with you, Fletcher,” said the captain gruffly, “I’ll take Miles for a walk down to the Quay.”
Alec nodded. “Don’t be too long though. I’ll need statements.”
The captain opened the library door and stuck his head into the room. “Miles, I do believe those wretches have sold me dried kelp instead of tobacco. It’s unsmokable. D’you want to walk down to the Quay with me to have it out with ’em?”
“Yes, I’ll come, Uncle Vic. Half a tick.”
Before Miles appeared, Alec hustled Tom through the glass door and along the passage towards the dining room. “Daisy went to the kitchen to ask for some wrapping paper for the mitten,” he said. “I expect we’ll find her in the puppy’s scullery.”
“The second mitten was just where she said, Chief. I’ve got it in my pocket. No blood on it that I can see, but the dog’s chewed it up pretty thoroughly.”
“If the children can identify it as one of the items they retrieved from the woods, it might be useful to be able to prove that both of the pair were there. Was Miss Norville in her room when you searched it?”
“No. I think she was in the lav.”
When they reached the scullery, Daisy looked round, grinning as they fended off Nana’s enthusiastic greetings. “Sorry I’ve been so long, darling. First I found that Nana had managed to pull the sack of ‘clues’ off the draining board and scattered them in bits and pieces all over the place. Then when I’d cleared up the mess, I discovered I’d forgotten to ask for string, so I had to go back and get some. I’m on the last knot.” She presented a neat brown-paper parcel. “I took some extra paper just in case.”
“We have the other mitten and the galoshes,” said Alec, setting down the handkerchief-wrapped bundle on the draining board.
“Darling, your hankie!” she said reproachfully. “Oh dear, it looks as if it’s true, doesn’t it? In a way it would be better if it had been the captain. Mrs. Norville would have been hurt still, but at least he doesn’t have a wife and children.”
“Dora’s guessed.”
“Oh, poor thing!” Daisy hesitated. “I wonder if I ought to go to her.”
“Tremayne is with her.” Alec metaphorically kicked himself as soon as the words were out. He could have got her out of the way without an argument.
“She won’t need me, then. What’s next? Did you talk to the captain, darling?”
“Yes. The quarrel was caused by Godfrey’s objection to the captain’s bringing Calloway to Brockdene, because his testimony would lead to the family’s eviction.”
“Just as I guessed!” Daisy said triumphantly. “Are you going to tackle Godfrey next?”
“Yes,” said Alec, “and you’re not coming.”
“But, darling …”
“Daisy, this isn’t just a matter of interviewing a suspect. Godfrey is almost certainly the murderer, and it seems clear he murdered on impulse, certainly without careful planning. He may be dangerous. Your presence can only hinder us. At this point, you can best help by wrapping the galoshes and the second mitten and stowing them away safely, so that I don’t have to waste time on it.”
“Right-oh, Chief,” she sighed, and took up a sheet of brown paper.
Alec and Tom went out into the Kitchen Court. “Norville’s probably up in the Drawing Room, as usual,” Alec said, leading the way to the door to the old house. Inside, though, he turned towards the Hall, not the stairs.
“Want me to go fetch him, Chief?”
“Not yet. I think we’d better first work out exactly how we’re going to tackle him.” He perched on a corner of the long refectory table. “I want a confession if we can possibly extract one. Any lawyer worth his salt could easily persuade a jury to doubt everything we have so far. It’s all …”
“Chief!” said Tom warningly.
Alec swung round. Jemima had just come through the archway at the far end of the Hall. She stopped at the sight of them, arms akimbo.
“I heard you,” she crowed. “I told Daddy you took his mittens and galoshes. He’s gone away.” She glanced behind her. “You’ll never catch him now!”
Before she finished speaking, Alec was running, Tom on his heels. Jemima, in the doorway, spread her arms wide. Alec picked her up and set her aside. They dashed through the dining room, along the passage, across the hall, and out of the front door.
Felicity stood at the top of the terrace steps, gazing down. Hearing their footsteps, she turned, frowning. “I say, what’s going on? I was coming down the stairs and I saw Daddy putting on his coat and hat, and when I called to him he just waved and went out.”
“Did you see which way he went?” Alec demanded.
“Yes, he’s just disappeared into the tunnel. Did you want … Oh lord, not Daddy?”
Her last words were addressed to their backs as Alec leapt and Tom trotted down the steps.
Emerging from the tunnel, Alec stopped by the carp pond to scan the valley garden. No sign of their quarry. Evergreen shrubbery hid parts of the maze of paths, and the massive medieval dovecote blocked the view of a great section. He pounded down towards it, Tom right behind him.
As they rounded the dovecote, he saw Derek and Belinda coming up the hill, nearing a nexus where one path went off to the left and another forked to the right. Piper, just beyond them, was looking back over his shoulder.
“Uncle Alec, we saw Mr. Norville walking down the other path, that one over there, not the one we’re on, and Mr. Piper called to him and he started running …”
“Thought I’d better see the kiddies home safe, Chief.”
“Quite right, but after him now.”
Piper spun round and ran.
“What’s happening, Daddy?” Belinda asked anxiously.
“Go back to the house, you two.” He gestured to the left-hand path. “Tom, go that way, down to the northern gate, to cut him off in case he doubles back towards Calstock.”
Alec took the right-hand branch, which soon converged again with the path Piper was on. The detective constable in the lead, they sped on. Alec, who had run all the way from the house, began to fall behind.
“There he is, Chief! Just went through the gate. He’s going towards the chapel.”
Towards the Quay, Alec thought, gasping for breath. Was Norville hoping to steal a boat?
When Piper reached the chapel he stopped and gazed along the track, which here veered sharply to the right, parallel to the river. Alec, puffing along, saw him turn full circle, then try the chapel door.
“Lost him, Ernie?”
“If he’s scarpered into the woods, Chief, it’ll take a dozen men to roust him out.”
Alec thought aloud. “He’s not the sort to camp out in the woods, especially as it’s coming on to rain. He’ll make for either Calstock or the Quay, though what he’s intending to do there I can’t imagine. He can’t have much cash, if any. It was sheer panic made him run. He may even come straight back to the house. But I’d rather not wait, if possible. Just make sure he’s not hiding behind the chapel.”
Piper went back along the side of the little structure, while Alec kept watch on the track. A moment later, Piper called in a queer voice, “Chief, come and look at this!”
Alec hurried after him, and found him staring down the face of the cliff. The tide had ebbed, exposing a stretch of mud flat where synchronized sandpipers scurried to and fro.
Lying on the mud was a blue-and-grey striped pompon hat.
20
Not bothering to be neat, Daisy hastily bundled up the galoshes and the well-chewed second mitten in brown paper and string. Alec could keep her from attending his interview with Godfrey Norville, but she was determined to be nearby to hear the result right away. With an apology to Nana for shutting her up alone again, she picked up her three parcels and returned to the East Wing to lock the evidence in Alec’s suitcase.
The key in her pocket, she made for the stairs. As she passed Mrs. Norville’s sitting room, she heard the Dowager Viscountess’s voice. For a moment she was tempted to knock and go in, to make sure her mother wasn’t bullying the old lady, but more urgent matters called for her attention. She pattered down the stairs.
In the entrance hall, Felicity was sitting on the chaise-longue. Her back was as stiffly straight as any Victoria lady’s, her hands clenched in her lap, a stunned look on her face.
“Daisy, tell me it’s not true! I know it has to be one of us if it’s not Ceddie, but … Daddy?”
“What makes you think … ?”
“Oh, don’t try to throw dust in my eyes! I saw your husband and the fat sergeant chasing him down the garden.”
“The valley garden? Oh dear, I’d better go and see what’s going on.”
As Daisy headed for the front door, Tremayne came down the stairs. “Dora wishes me to stand by Godfrey,” he said. “Do you know where … ?”
“Come along with me,” Daisy advised and hurried on.
She soon outpaced the elderly solicitor. When she reached the valley garden, an extraordinary sight met her eyes: not Godfrey at bay, but Derek and Belinda walking backwards up the slope with little tiny steps.
“What on earth are you two up to?”
“Daddy told us to go back to the house, Mummy. So we’re going, just not very quickly.”
“It’s not fair, Aunt Daisy. Whenever something exciting happens, we get sent away. Uncle Alec and Mr. Piper and Mr. Tring all went off chasing Mr. Norville, like hare-and-hounds, like we do at school. I bet I could have caught him. He’s not much of a runner, but he had a good start, and all because Mr. Piper thought he ought to take us back to the house, as if we were sissies, instead of chasing him.”
“Which way did they go?”
“Towards the chapel, except Uncle Tom. Daddy told him to go to the other gate.”
“To cut Mr. Norville off if he goes that way,” Derek explained. “Did he kill Mr. Calloway?”
“Only a jury can decide that, darling. Now both of you stop dawdling. Go straight up to the house and stay there. Off you go now.”
As soon as she was certain they were obeying, Daisy set off again, not waiting for Tremayne who had just hove in sight. A sudden breeze rustled the leaves around her and flung a flurry of raindrops. Hatless, her ruffled curls were no protection, but the breeze dropped as quickly as it had arisen. The brief shower was only a warning. To the west dark clouds loomed over the unhappy house.
When Daisy reached the gate, she vacillated. She wanted to see whatever was going on, but if Alec saw her he would undoubtedly send her back to the house, just like the children.
Of course, Norville and his pursuers might be halfway to Brockdene quay by now, or the station. Listening, she heard nothing but Tremayne’s footsteps and laboured breathing, catching up with her. Even the birds were silent, disturbed by all the unwonted activity, except a woodpecker’s tock-tock-tock somewhere in the wood.
“What are you waiting for, Mrs. Fletcher? What’s happened ? The children told me Godfrey ran away and the detectives are after him.”
“I’m afraid so. I don’t know what’s up just now. We mustn’t get in Alec’s way.”
“Nonsense, it’s my duty to be present if my client is about to be arrested, though I shall endeavour not to obstruct the police in the performance of their duty. Which way did they go?” Tremayne marched through the gate, which had been left open. Stopping in the middle of the path, he glanced up to the left, towards the hairpin bend. “Ah, here comes Sergeant Tring.”
Joining him, Daisy waved to Tom. If he was coming down, presumably Godfrey had not turned that way. She looked the other way. Nothing to be seen. She set off towards the chapel, keeping to the near side of the track.
On the same side, Alec and Piper were standing just past the chapel, their heads together, facing her. As soon as he caught sight of her, Alec put his finger to his lips, then made a shooing motion. Daisy moved back a few paces around the bend and took cover behind a tree trunk. When Tremayne drew level with her, she hissed so urgently that he joined her, whatever his duty to his client. She put her hand on his arm to detain him.
“I reckon he threw his hat over to make us think he’d drowned,” Alec said loudly, “so we’d give up the chase, as in the legend of Sir Richard Norville. Pity for him there’s nothing but mud down there. He’ll be halfway to the Quay by now. We’d better hurry.”
“Right, Chief,” said Piper, and set off at an unnaturally heavy run, making as much noise as the crunchy leaves allowed. He only went thirty yards or so, though, then doubled back as quietly as possible through the trees, where the leaves were damp underfoot.
He and Alec converged on the laurels on the far side of the chapel.
Daisy hoped they had guessed right, and that Godfrey was not in fact halfway to the Quay. From her position she had a better view than they did down the path because of the way it curved. She glanced that way. Two men were walking up the slope.
Tremayne took a step forward. Daisy clutched his sleeve and held him back as Alec and Piper dived into the thicket.
Godfrey Norville shot out of the bushes like a pea from a pea-shooter and set off at an ungainly gallop towards the Quay. After a couple of strides he became aware of the approaching figures. Swinging round, he started back the other way. As Alec and Piper extricated themselves from the bushes and jumped at him, he ducked and dodged them with a surprisingly neat bit of footwork.
In the process he lost his glasses. He ran blindly on, straight into Tom Tring.
“Now, now, sir,” said Tom benevolently, clasping him to his massive green-and-maroon bosom, “the chief inspector would like a word with you.”
“I have nothing to say!” Godfrey shrilled.
“That’s your right, sir, but you’d better come along and tell Mr. Fletcher to his face.” Tom’s hand encircled Godfrey’s wrist as if it were no thicker than a tin whistle. He gently urged his captive down the slope towards the chapel. “I must warn you that anything you do choose to say will be taken down in writing and may be used in evidence.”
Alec and Piper advanced to meet them, Piper holding the fallen glasses. Daisy realized she was still clutching Tremayne’s sleeve, as he emerged from his startlement and took a step forward. She quickly let go, deciding to stay back, out of Alec’s line of sight. It was beginning to rain, and if she stood directly under a broad branch she was somewhat sheltered.
“Your glasses, sir,” said Piper, presenting the spectacles to Godfrey with one hand and, with the other, feeling in his own breast pocket for his pencils.
Tom released his wrist to let him put them on. Surrounded by the three detectives, he made no attem
pt to flee. He and Tremayne both started to speak at the same moment, just as pounding feet announced the arrival of the two men Daisy had seen coming up from the Quay: Miles and, several paces behind him, Captain Norville.
“Father, was it you?” Miles cried. “I can’t believe you did it! But why?”
“Because you didn’t tell me George Norville was dead!” Godfrey snarled. Miles recoiled. “If I’d known Brockdene would be mine some day, I wouldn’t have had to do away with Calloway. As for you … !” He turned with a ferocious glare on the captain.
“Say no more, Godfrey!” Tremayne urged in dismay.
His son-in-law paid him no heed. “Mother’s pet had to interfere,” he raved, “to rake over old coals, to wake sleeping dogs! He didn’t care if the rest of us were thrown out on our ears. What should he care about Brockdene? If you hadn’t brought that cursed clergyman here, he’d be alive today. What else could I do? With a lawyer in the house, I had to kill him quickly, before he could swear an affidavit.”
“Godfrey, as your legal adviser …”
“All right, all right, I’ll shut up. Just remember, it’s not my fault, it’s Victor’s, and Miles’s!”
Rain was falling in earnest, a steady drizzle which had probably set in for days. Godfrey Norville, now handcuffed and apathetic, and Tom Tring would be soaked through long before they reached the police station in Calstock. Tremayne went with them, despairing but determined to do his duty to the last. The captain—muttering, “Exactly what I’d hoped to avoid!”—had just set off, leading a stunned Miles back towards the house.
“I’m going to have to go straight to Calstock, love,” Alec told Daisy. His dark hair was still crisp, shedding water like a duck’s back. “With the Cornish force in disarray, my authority may be needed to get the necessary formalities under way.”
Daisy pushed aside one of the bedraggled locks plastered to her face. “I doubt you’d be a welcome guest just now, darling,” she said wryly. “I only hope they don’t throw me out of the house, along with Mother and the children.”
Alec laughed. “I’d back your mother against any number of Norvilles. You’ll manage. I’ll have to come back tomorrow to get statements signed, but you should have left by then. Piper will come up to the house with you now to collect the evidence. You did put the parcels away safe, didn’t you?”
