“No, sir,” Parker said.
“Can you produce a witness to verify your whereabouts the night Mr. Levering was killed?”
“My wife.”
“And no others?”
“No, sir.”
Silsbury leaned down until his face was only a foot away from that of Parker’s.
“A jury will find that quite convenient and unacceptable, Mr. Parker,” Silsbury told him. “Particularly after they have heard of your threats to Robert Meath in South Africa, your attempts to get the Colonel and Levering to invest, and lastly, Mr. Parker, your brazen blackmailing of Helen Meath and God knows who else.
“I personally have witnessed you meeting with Mrs. Meath in the hotel at Danby. We have evidence of you discussing the blackmailing of Helen with her husband,” Silsbury said, gesturing to the detective. “It is quite easy to build a case that you were so desperate for money that when someone refused, such as Humphries and Levering, that your temper, combined with avarice, made you kill them. Were the Meath’s next, Mr. Parker? How long were you going to wait until you killed them, too?”
“Inspector, you don’t have a single piece of evidence associating me with either murder,” Parker replied calmly. “A sensible jury will quickly realize that. You have made a serious mistake in my arrest.”
Silsbury backed away from Parker and the sudden smile on his face confounded Parker.
“Ah, Mr. Parker. That is where you are wrong,” Silsbury said calmly. “Be we do have a piece of evidence."
The Inspector circled Parker’s chair slowly and then said, “A knife out of Stuart Meath’s collection was found in your house, sir. It will be looked at more closely but it has already been confirmed as having a blade matching the fatal wound in Mr. Levering’s back. We have made no mistake in this case, Mr. Parker. Now tell me how you came into possession of that knife.”
Parker replied, “I know nothing of any of Stuart’s knives being in my possession, Inspector. I did not ask him for one and he did not give me one. I will deny any knowledge of it under oath.”
“You certainly will be asked about it many times, I’m sure,” Silsbury said. “Now, on another topic. You recently met privately with Lord Stewart at Stichen Manor. What was the purpose of that meeting?”
“Simply pleasure,” Parker said. “He invited me to visit and I did.”
“It was a decidedly short meeting for a social call.”
Parker shrugged. “Stewart wasn’t in much of a talkative mood.”
“Mr. Parker,” the Inspector said, “it is my intention to call Lord Stewart as a witness in the trial. It is my opinion that the two of you have worked together on part, if not all, of your plan to extort as much as you could from the people you’ve been in contact with.”
Parker could not contain his laughter, even after the shock of hearing about the knife.
“Don’t forget to bring in the Duke and Duchess,” he chuckled. “The press will love you for it.”
Things were unquestionably calmer in Runswick Bay on the afternoon following Daphne’s morning tour of Hilderwell with Peter. She lunched with Malcolm and received a pleasant surprise at the end of the meal.
“It’s such a perfect day,” Malcolm said as they walked out of the pub. “Would you agree to a sail in the bay with me? I found a man this morning who rents out a small sailboat to tourists and I’d love to take you out in it.”
“You know how to sail?” Daphne said, her eyes showing her joy. “I’d love to go. This hat will be fine, won’t it? Let’s go right away.”
Malcolm smiled at her childlike glee and steered her in the direction of the docks. The smell of the sea was strong as the temperature rose and the sun beat down. Daphne savored anything that didn’t remind her of vegetables and farms.
“You wait here,” Malcolm told her as they arrived. “I’ll go in and settle with my man. I’ll be right back.”
Malcolm disappeared into a small shack and Daphne inspected what she assumed would be their sailboat. It was about fifteen feet in length, with a single large sail. Except for a rudder, a few ropes, and two benches to sit on, there was little to see. Still, she was excited to get onto the water on such a perfect day.
She heard the door of the shack slam shut behind her and turned to see Malcolm approaching with a grin.
“We’re all set,” he said, noting Daphne’s inspection of the sailboat. “It’s not the biggest boat in Runswick, but it’s ours for the afternoon, or at least as long as you want to stay out. Now, do you think you can help me get her untied from the dock?”
“Whatever you want me to do, Malcolm,” she replied. “But you realize this is my first time in a boat like this.”
“I’ll do the hard part, like steer. The wind will do the rest. Do me a favor and unwrap that rope from the mooring while I get the other one,” he told her while pointing.
Daphne dutifully completed her task and tossed the rope into the boat. She watched Malcolm untie the front and hold the boat in place.
“Now, step in. Be careful, though. It’s a bit of a drop,” he said.
Daphne had always been fairly athletic and easily made her way to a bench inside the boat, followed closely by Malcolm.
“Should I sit here?” she asked.
“Other side, please. I may want you to pull on that rope you see next to the bench.”
Daphne moved over and Malcolm took his place by the rudder.
“The first thing to remember,” he said while tapping the boom, “is that this boom, the bottom of the sail here, is going to be moving back and forth. It’s very heavy and it’s solid wood. It would put a good size dent in your head and most likely knock you into the bay.”
“I’d prefer that I swim on my own terms,” Daphne answered. “I’ll watch out for it.”
“Good. Now push away from the dock, if you would, and we’ll be gone.”
Daphne reached out and lightly gave a shove. At the same time, Malcolm pulled on the rudder and let the sail begin to fill with the light breeze. Slowly but surely the boat began to slip away into the open water.
Daphne sat and observed Malcolm in silence as they made a wide turn until facing east and the vastness of the North Sea beyond the boundaries of Runswick Bay. No other boats were in sight and the only sounds were the lightly lapping waves on the side of the boat and the sail occasionally flapping.
“You see that dark area on the surface to our right, where the water is rougher?” Malcolm said, pointing. “That means there is a little more wind there. We need to head in that direction to pick up speed.”
Daphne nodded while Malcolm worked the rudder and sail.
He said, “Grab that rope next to you, Daphne. It connects to the sail by way of the pulleys in front of you. When I tell you, pull on it and that will take the slack out of the sail, making us go faster.”
She acknowledged his instructions, happy to have a job that she imagined to be of vital importance. It took several minutes, but they eventually reached the spot Malcolm had pointed out earlier and even the inexperienced Daphne felt the fresher breeze. The sail filled and the boat leapt forward with noticeable momentum.
“Now we’re sailing!” Malcolm said with glee.
They were still well within the confines of the bay, but as the boat sped up, she began to ponder the potential thrill of being on the open ocean, with nothing but the wind and the rudder guiding them. The freedom she felt was exhilarating.
“Pull!”
Daphne was brought back to reality at the sound of Malcolm’s command. She yanked on the rope until it stiffened and she could pull no more.
“Excellent! Good job,” Malcolm told her.
“We’re really moving fast,” she exclaimed.
“It only seems like it because you are so close to the water. If you were watching from the shore you would think we were barely moving. I don’t want us going too fast or it might scare you.”
Daphne shook her head and said, “I’m fine. This is so much fun.
Will we leave the bay?”
Malcolm looked at her and replied, “Only if you want to and not for very far. It’s rougher than you may think out there.”
“I want to, if only for a little bit,” she pleaded.
“Whatever you want, my dear.”
Malcolm began a series of tacking movements back and forth, allowing them to make progress into an easterly wind. With each turn, he would call out for Daphne to tighten the sail, or let up on it, and she eagerly obeyed. In less than half an hour they were in open water and Daphne’s heart pounded with excitement.
It seemed the entire world had been left behind and it was just her and Malcolm and the sea. As predicted, the wind increased and they sped along at what Daphne felt was a frightening clip, except she wasn’t frightened anymore. It was exhilarating and, besides, her little job kept her mind from thinking about the dangers too much. She dutifully ducked each time the boom crossed over the bench and Malcolm steered flawlessly, keeping the worst of the waves from upsetting the little boat.
“Pull!” Malcolm called out once more.
Daphne felt the boat begin to turn and she gripped the rope harder. Suddenly, her hat flew from her head and Daphne instinctively reached for it with both hands. At the same time, the boat tilted drastically to Daphne’s side and she lost her balance.
“Malcolm!” she screamed, feeling herself begin to fall forward, toward the water. “Malcolm!”
The boom struck her square in the back of the head. Daphne’s arms flailed helplessly in the air as she fell. In that instant, she wondered if the water would be cold and how long would it take her to drown.
She was certain her feet were in the air when she felt the tug on her dress and her momentum slowed. A faint rip was heard as the falling stopped. Daphne couldn’t understand what was happening until she realized she was not falling, but was being pulled backward, into the boat again. And into Malcolm’s arms.
“Daphne, are you alright?”
“Oh my Lord, Malcolm,” Daphne gasped, looking over her shoulder. “You saved me. You saved my life.”
“I tore your dress,” he said, still holding her around the waist.
She put a hand on the back of her head and checked it for blood.
“Are you cut?” he asked her.
“No. No, I’m fine,” Daphne panted.
“We can turn back and get your hat. I can still see it. Sit and rest, Daphne.”
She practically collapsed onto the hard seat and put her head in her hands while Malcolm turned the boat around. He deftly maneuvered to where he could lean over and pick up the drenched, but otherwise undamaged, sunhat.
“We better get to shore so you can rest,” he told her, placing the hat next to her.
“Thank you, Malcolm. I’m sure I would have drowned.”
“Nonsense,” he told her. “I wouldn’t have allowed it. At the very least, we would have drowned together while I tried to save you.”
She tried to laugh but her head hurt too much for any sound to come out.
It was an easy sail back to the dock with the wind behind them. Malcolm spent half his time steering the boat and the other half looking at the dazed look on Daphne’s face. She would be alright, he thought to himself. The headache would last a while, but she’d be alright.
Daphne didn’t at all protest when Malcolm held her by the arm the entire walk up to the cottages. All she wanted to do was lie down. When she told him as much, Malcolm accompanied her into the bedroom and stayed only long enough to see that she was comfortable. He returned to his own cottage, reliving the adventure over and over again in his head.
XXX. Back Home
Inspector Silsbury was convinced he only needed a pair of witnesses willing to testify against Parker to sway a jury. Yorkshire was a conservative region made up of hard working people They did not take well to rich businessmen whose aim was to get richer at their expense. Silsbury would make Parker out to be that man.
The Inspector had been warned by his superiors about badgering Lord Charles Stewart concerning his involvement with Parker, but Silsbury would not be averse to calling him to the stand if circumstances required it. Instead, the Inspector aimed for two safer witnesses from a political standpoint that would still carry weight: Helen Meath and Alistair Cooper.
When Helen Meath received the summons to appear in York to answer Silsbury’s questions, she couldn’t have been any more stunned. The fact that it pertained to ‘the recent arrest of George Parker in the murders of Colonel Peter Humphries and Archibald Levering’ made her want to immediately call or visit Alistair, but she thought better of it and, instead, made the necessary arrangements to have Stuart drive her to York.
Silsbury summoned Alistair Cooper to appear separately, hoping for dual, unprejudiced confirmation of Parker’s insidious plot to blackmail Helen. If he could get either one to testify that Parker threatened them with physical harm, it would be a nice bonus.
The Meaths appeared together in the lobby of the station housing Silsbury. Helen looked especially charming in a long dress with lace at the neck and wrists and Silsbury made a mental note to suggest she wear the same thing at the trial. He begged Stuart to wait in the sitting area while he took Helen to his office.
“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Meath,” he began, offering her a chair. “Very unpleasant circumstances, indeed. But necessary, I’m sure you understand.”
She nodded without a hint of her emotional state.
“Mrs. Meath, I will save us both a little time by getting straight to my point of bringing you here. At the time I interviewed everybody after the murder of Colonel Humphries, you said you were with Alistair Cooper at the time Humphries was murdered. Do you deny that now?”
She shook her head.
“Very well. Since that interview, it has come to my attention through observations by myself and a detective that you have had interactions with George Parker. I will not ask you to confirm that, I know it to be so. Now, it is my belief that Parker was blackmailing you. Can you tell me how long that has been going on. Specifically, did it begin prior to the death of the Colonel?”
Even in her harried state of mind, Helen realized the Inspector was offering her an escape route. His intent, of course, was to benefit his case, but she also saw an unexpected opportunity.
“As you know, Inspector, George Parker has had a long feud with Stuart’s family. That started well before the Colonel’s death,” Helen said. “At first, he excluded me from that activity. Lately, however, and this began after the unfortunate night at Stichen Manor, George started to pressure me in regards to Stuart’s inheritance.”
“Pressure you?”
Helen crossed her legs and said, “He made it clear he had some control over whether we ever received it or not. I don’t understand how mines operate, Inspector, or how businesses are run in general, but it sounded as if he had a valid claim and could, somehow, take the money from Stuart’s father.”
She paused to compose herself.
“Did he threaten you, Mrs. Meath?”
“Physically?”
“Yes,” Silsbury replied.
Helen paused before saying, “Well, I felt as if he did. I always believed he was capable of doing myself or Stuart harm if he wanted to.”
Silsbury was delighted with Helen’s potential on the witness stand, understanding that cross-examination would be quite another matter. Perhaps he could prepare her for that when the time came. But just in the short time he talked to her on this day, he was pleased.
He had less confidence when it came to Alistair Cooper. His fears were unfounded. Cooper had just as much reason to hope Parker was convicted as Helen and just as little remorse if Parker was innocent, yet found guilty.
The Inspector’s questioning of Cooper was short and direct.
“Do you have any personal knowledge of George Parker blackmailing anyone you know?” Silsbury asked Cooper.
“I have reason to believe he was blackmailing the Meaths,” Cooper s
aid.
“How do you know this?”
“Helen has said as much to myself.”
“Would you swear under oath that she has told you he was blackmailing her?” Silsbury asked.
“I would,” Cooper said after only a slight delay.
“Did she fear for her safety, or her husband’s, at the hands of George Parker?”
“She did.”
Silsbury interviewed Cooper for half an hour, but little more needed to be said. He had his two witnesses.
In the meantime, Lord Charles Stewart and Bingham continued to lodge at Stichen Manor. It was Charles’ intention to do so until he had solved both murders and he knew time was running out on two fronts: Silsbury would put Parker on trial at the earliest possible date and the Colonel’s solicitors were anxious to settle the estate.
Charles had not released a single servant and they were more than willing to stay. Something else that did not change was the regular visits by Daphne Bishop once she returned from her stay in Hinderwell and Runswick Bay. Charles happened to be outside the kitchen on the morning of her first re-supply run to the manor and sought her out when he heard the familiar voice.
“Welcome back,” he announced, entering the kitchen.
Daphne smiled broadly and thanked him.
“My, don’t you look all tanned and merry. You and Malcolm had a pleasant trip, I take it,” Charles teased.
“It was delightful, Lord Stewart. It ended much too soon for my taste,” Daphne replied.
“You were sorely missed, Miss Bishop. We barely scraped by on eggs and the occasional grouse,” Charles told her. “Hardly a vegetable to be found anywhere.”
He leaned closer to her and said softly, “Although I think Bingham would be just as happy without them.”
She laughed and then said with increased excitement, “Oh, Lord Stewart, I must tell you about the most awful thing that almost happened to me. I’m only alive to tell you because of Malcolm.”
Charles’ eyes opened wide and he said, “Goodness, Daphne. What happened?”
They sat at the table and Daphne relayed the entirety of the sailing incident, embellished only with the use of her hands and animated voice to express the danger she felt she was in. Charles listened intently, nodding at appropriate times and never missing a detail of her description.
The Enemy in Our Midst: A Lord Charles Stewart Mystery Page 19
