“To turn them away from here. To save this house and you, the guests staying in it. I helped you. You’re just too shortsighted to see it.”
“My loyalty lies with Oaks,” Raven hissed. “He is locked up for crimes he didn’t commit. Because of you!”
Bixby seemed to want to protest; then he made an appeasing gesture with his right hand. “Can we just sit down and talk about it? I came here because I want to explain.”
“Yes, only because you’re in deep now. Your fake doctor has been exposed and the police are after the both of you.”
The “doctor” grabbed at his head. “We must flee. Go to France. If we go now, we can reach the coast and be on a ship before nightfall.”
“Are you crazy?” Bixby retorted. “Of course we won’t flee. Then everyone really will believe we killed that girl.”
The other man made a whimpering sound.
“Sit down!” Bixby ordered him with a glare. He himself stayed on his feet, eyeing Raven. “I will explain everything to you. Then you will understand that we have nothing to do with the murder by the river.”
Raven leaned back on his heels with a challenging look. “This should be interesting.”
Bixby began to pace the room. Bowsprit had closed the door and was standing by it, watching the man through narrowed eyes, as if ready to jump him the moment it became necessary.
Merula agreed that it was good to be on guard. Bixby could have brought a weapon, for all they knew. It could be hidden in his pocket or under his coat.
Bixby said, “When I came to live here, I just wanted a peaceful and quiet place. I assure you that I knew nothing of the matters in which I would get involved. I bought a nice house, to decorate and to adorn with an arboretum and a garden. I invested serious money in that, and I invited friends over to discuss science with me. I met new and interesting people and built my name. Through Professor Morehead, whom you have also met, I was introduced to an industrialist. A man who owns factories and railroads, who even invested in hotels and roads abroad. He’s a firm believer in the pull of certain places on huge crowds. You know how by the seaside in Brighton, they’ve been building a new pier, and people flock to it. Now, he believes that such venues that pull in visitors from other parts of the country can be created anywhere as long you have something to sell to these people. He believed that this wild and barren land has an attraction. Natural beauty, he calls it. I can’t really see it, but I did see that if tourists came, they might also want to visit my arboretum and my house and pay money for it. As I just said, I paid a lot to have it decorated and … I was in a bit of a tight spot financially.”
Merula glanced at Raven, and he met her eye with a nod—he was thinking the same thing. Fern had been telling the truth when she had said Bixby was in debt.
Bixby halted and rubbed his eyebrow. “This investor believed that people might come here, but only if the area was easily accessible. It is now quite a journey by coach from the nearest railway station to Cranley, so he wanted to have a railway here. He wanted to put it across the best direct route …”
Raven stared at him, his eyes lighting with sudden understanding. “Let me guess. That would be across Oaks’s land.”
Merula held her breath. They had been so close with their conjectures. Not Oaks’s house, not something among his travel souvenirs or his zoological collection, but his land.
“Exactly,” Bixby said to Raven. “Now this investor contacted Oaks and asked if he could buy his land. Oaks refused. He believes he has found refuge here, and he didn’t want to sell. Then the investor came to me. He said he was willing to pay me handsomely if I could somehow convince Oaks to sell the house.”
“Or if you could somehow drive Oaks away,” Merula said. “You let yourself be hired to frighten him into leaving.” The men she had overheard in the corridor must have been referring to that. They had said Bixby should already have taken care of it.
Bixby shook his head, raising both his hands in an almost apologetic gesture. “It was nothing like that at first. I needed money and his offer was good. I believed in my own persuasive powers. I befriended Oaks, and I tried to get him to move to another place. The Riviera, the Black Forest, places of interest to a man who loves wildlife and rare animals. I also tried to get him into expeditions to explore the Arctic so he would be away from here. But he refused every single offer. By that time, the investor was leaning on me heavily to come through. I had already accepted money from him to pay some of my urgent debts and … I couldn’t say no anymore. I noticed Oaks was under nervous strain, and I believed that if I could convince him he was ill, he might leave to recuperate someplace. I pressured him to consult a specialist.”
“But Oaks didn’t want that,” Merula said. “That is why he argued with you recently. The stable boy overheard him saying you should stop pressuring him. It was about seeing this specialist.”
Bixby nodded. “I had already agreed with this man here that he would play the specialist. An expert in his field who would urge Oaks to take rest in a better climate. But as long as Oaks refused to see him, we weren’t getting anywhere near a solution.”
“And the handsome amount of money you had been promised if you succeeded,” Raven added dryly. “So then you decided to make life hard for Oaks by killing a local girl, his maid, and pointing the finger at him for the killing. Using the superstitious villagers to go after him and drive him away for you.”
“No, of course not. I didn’t know that girl, and I’ve never been near her.”
“You’re lying,” Merula said. “You went to the inn to get friendly with the villagers and feed their fears. You played cards with Tillie’s father and ensured he owed you money so you could later pressure him into cooperating with you in exchange for clearing his debts.”
Bixby shook his head in violent denial, but Merula pushed on relentlessly, “At the inn, you also met Tillie herself before she came to work for Oaks. You suggested she find work here. You arranged everything to ensure that after you murdered her, you could point the finger at Oaks.”
Bixby looked appalled. “I did know the murdered girl by sight, yes, but I swear that I never suggested to her that she could work for Oaks. I also never met her away from the inn. I didn’t pursue her and kill her. I swear.”
“I’m afraid your oaths mean very little,” Raven said coldly. “How do we know we can trust a single word you say?”
Bixby licked his lips. “I do realize that what I told you sounds odd and suspicious. But it is the truth. I did conspire to get Oaks away from his house and land, but I have absolutely nothing to do with the murder. I would never have gone that far.”
“But you had to. You just told us the investor had already given you money which you used to pay off debts. So you couldn’t return his money to him. You couldn’t get away from him. You had to do what he asked. However you could.”
“Look.” Bixby pointed a finger at Raven. His hand was trembling and his voice was hoarse. “I may have been in debt and open to a less than honorable proposition. I may have told lies and bribed other people to become accomplices with me in this scheme. I admitted as much, and I’m not proud of it. In fact, looking back, I wish I could do it all again and tell this man to his face to find someone else for it. But I am not a killer. I could never strangle a girl to death. I’m being honest with you now, coming here to …”
“Honest?” Raven held his head back and laughed heartily. “You only came because you heard that I had already unmasked dear Dr. Twicklestone as an impostor. You believe I will now put in a word for you with the inspector and get you off the hook. But why would I? You’ve been nothing but trouble for Oaks.”
“But I did save your lives. I came when the villagers were about to attack and plunder this house. Set it on fire, hurt you. I sent them off. I had influence over them that you never had. Never will have, either. I saved you.”
“For your own selfish purposes.”
“Nevertheless. You’re standing here, unin
jured, in a house with no damage except for the dents in the front door, all because of me.”
Merula stepped up to both arguing men. “Mr. Bixby does have a point in that he saved us. The villagers were mad with grief and anger and might have done serious damage. No matter whose interests Mr. Bixby had at heart when he intervened, he did save us.”
Bixby said with an eager look, “Consider this. If they had burned the house, Oaks would have been forced to leave. Then the investor could have bought his land. That was exactly what I wanted. But I didn’t want to take the risk of people getting hurt in the fire. I had heard Oaks had guests from the city, and … I rode out here to prevent casualties. That is the best proof I have that I didn’t murder the girl. I never wanted anyone to die!”
Raven scoffed, but Merula focused on Bixby as she asked, “This investor you mentioned, is he here in the village?”
“No, he’s in London. But I believe he has spies here. Eyes and ears who watch everything that is happening. Who report to him and tell him of my … failures.”
Bixby laughed bitterly. “I haven’t been able to deliver Oaks’s house and land. Now I have even admitted to my part in it. I’m ruined, totally ruined.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you at all,” Raven bit. “You are the reason Oaks is locked up. Because you started rumors he was mentally unbalanced, he is now accused of the murder.”
“Not just because of me,” Bixby protested. “Tillie’s father, the blacksmith, has been telling everyone who wanted to listen that his daughter was harassed by Oaks. That Oaks forced himself onto her. He was so angry about that. And he wasn’t the only one. The villagers want to kill Oaks for what he did to the girl. It might be better he’s locked up now. Else they might come for him and hang him on the highest tree they can find.”
“So we should even be grateful to you that Oaks is locked up where no harm can come to him?” Raven scoffed. “You have a strange way of protecting someone.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “Do the villagers know about Tillie being with child?”
“Yes.” Bixby held his gaze. “On the night she was murdered, she came to bring her wages to her father as she always did. I was playing cards at another table. Some men were laughing and smirking at her as she walked by, asking if she’d be the bride soon and saying she’d better hurry up about it before …” He glanced at Merula. “I’ll spare you their crude way of alluding to her condition.”
“How did Tillie respond to that?” Raven asked.
“She looked mortified and left in a hurry. Is that important somehow?”
“I’m just trying to reconstruct what she might have done after she left the inn. How she might have met her murderer.”
Bixby raised both his hands in the air. “I have no idea. Perhaps she wanted to leave the village and asked someone for help in doing so? It could have been that stable boy. They were in on something together.””
Raven narrowed his eyes. “You told us moments ago that you didn’t know Tillie, except by sight, from her days as servant at the inn. How would you suddenly know about her and the stable boy being involved in something together?”
Bixby exhaled in a frustrated huff. “Do I have to explain everything?”
“If you want to persuade us you’re innocent, yes.”
“One night when I came here to visit Oaks, I took my horse to the stables because that stable boy was nowhere to be seen. As I approached, the girl Tillie ran from the stables shouting at him, ‘I don’t need you anymore, I found someone else.’ The boy followed her all red in the face. At the time, I had no reason to think twice about it. An argument between two servants is none of my concern. But now, I tell you, that stable boy has something to hide. You better ask him about the murder.”
The counterfeit doctor had sat in a chair very still, listening in on the conversation. Now he said in a trembling voice, “Can we go now? Will you tell the inspector we meant no harm?”
“I will do no such thing,” Raven said. “I have no way of checking on your story. You could be lying, and I don’t want to risk myself vouching for a pack of liars. And possibly worse.”
“See!” The impostor jumped to his feet. “This was no use. We have to flee. The wreckmaster can help us. He can take us on a boat to France.”
“So you know the wreckmaster?” Raven asked. “Is he part of your play for the land? Did he also take money to ensure the railway is coming to Cranley?”
“Him?” Bixby spat. “He would rather die than see the railway come. He is a man of tradition, believing everything should stay the same forever. He’s afraid of what will happen when tourists come and not for fishing and boating but for the moors and the plants.”
“So you didn’t work with him?”
“I hope he knows absolutely nothing of our plans,” Bixby said emphatically, “or else we will have no chance at all of succeeding.”
“So you still believe you can succeed?” Raven asked.
Bixby stood and looked at him, with a slowly spreading smile. “Oaks may be guilty. Even you are not sure of him. You’re his friend, so you defend him, but you’re not sure of him. He might be guilty, he might be convicted and hanged, and then the house will be sold. The investor will buy it and the railway will come.”
Bixby walked to the door. “If Oaks had been smart, he would have accepted the offer right away. Then nothing would have happened.”
“So you admit that the murder has to do with the railroad?”
“No. The murder might have happened anyway, but Oaks would have been gone. He would have been in the Arctic or on the Riviera, having a good time with the money received from his house. Now, because he stuck with it so determinedly, he might die. Ironic, isn’t it?”
And holding his head high, Bixby tried to leave the room.
But Bowsprit was still in front of the door. “Shall we keep them here?” he asked eagerly. “I can go fetch the police to arrest them.”
“It sounds tempting,” Raven agreed, “but I’m afraid we can’t detain people against their will.”
Bowsprit looked stricken. “If we let them go, they might run, leave the country.”
“Mr. Bixby just explained how flight would look like an admission of guilt. I’m quite sure these gentlemen will stay near Cranley. Won’t you?”
Bixby shot Raven a dirty look but nodded his assent.
Raven waved at Bowsprit to step aside. The valet obeyed with a chagrined expression.
Bixby left with long strides, the frightened impostor hurrying after him.
“Do you believe one word of what he said, my lord?” Bowsprit asked.
Raven pursed his lips. “I think that most of what he told us is probably true. I’ve heard of such investments, here in England and abroad. Tracks leading into the Swiss mountains, hotels in places that are accessible only on foot or by special transportation. People long to see unexplored places. To go where not everyone has been before them. There’s money in it, and investors come to it. I also believe Bixby when he says that redecorating Gorse Manor and creating the arboretum was expensive and he needs money. In fact, I’m quite sure that if the inspector looked into Bixby’s finances, he would discover that he’s in debt. No lies in that.”
Raven leaned on the table as he continued, “I also readily believe that Bixby would be interested in a way to make money and would have no qualms about lying to Oaks. Especially not if he made himself believe he was helping Oaks, doing him a favor by taking this big bothersome house away from him and setting him up nicely on the Riviera. Yes, I can see Bixby telling himself that Oaks should be grateful for this chance. But Oaks didn’t want to leave, and then the trouble began. Bixby had to think up ways to make him leave. He came up with this doctor who had to express concerns about his health … It is something that fits with Bixby’s character: he is a man of science, a man of brains more than brawn. He is not intrinsically violent.”
“That is all speculation,” Bowsprit said. “I don’t like him. He’s cold and calculating
, capable of anything.”
“Perhaps, but men have their ways. Their code of honor. I think Bixby doesn’t mind lies and manipulations, especially if he stands to gain from them. But murder? And not a murder such as shooting someone in a flash of anger. No, strangling a defenseless girl. From behind, even. I don’t think it’s Bixby’s way.”
“The stable boy,” Bowsprit said, casting off his dejection and looking eager to pursue this new suspect. “If Bixby can be believed, he had an argument with Tillie and she said she didn’t need him anymore. Need him for what?”
Raven pushed himself away from the table. “I’m going to ask the stable boy to come in. Perhaps the argument was simply about the boy liking Tillie and her not returning his feelings because she was in love with someone else. But he might know something relevant.” He left the room.
Bowsprit looked at Merula. “Do you believe Bixby?”
Merula sighed. “It’s hard to judge people’s behavior when you have barely met them. Once I know a person better, I can usually tell if his behavior is consistent. But Bixby is a difficult man to gauge.”
“Some men are easy liars,” Bowsprit said. “Still, when they lie, sometimes they give themselves away. They put emphasis on something where it shouldn’t be.”
Merula studied him. “You sound pensive. What is bothering you?”
Bowsprit met her eyes. “It isn’t Mr. Bixby. It’s that man, the actor, whom we met at the shepherd’s cottages. Who told you about your parents. There was a moment in the conversation when he changed. When I strongly felt that he was lying.”
“One particular moment?” Merula’s hear skipped a beat. “And when was that?”
“When he said that your father was dead.”
Merula stared at Bowsprit’s calm expression. “So you think he lied and my father is not dead?”
“Yes. I wonder … if he was himself in love with your mother. If that was his reason for helping her and helping you, getting you to family in London. Getting you away also from your father.”
Death Comes to Dartmoor Page 20