by Lisa E. Pugh
“Why, because he's landed gentry?” she scoffed, not cowed by any authority.
“What is it, Brenlaw?” called a voice from the minstrel’s gallery. At the sound, the crowd retreated slightly. Lara fell silent, her mouth gaping in shock.
The butler turned toward the balcony. “It is Inspector Matthews, my lord, and several other… um… persons. They are inquiring after Miss Taylor.”
“Ah.” Lord Yawron paused, obviously considering what to do. “Better show them in, Brenlaw.”
“All of them?”
Starting down the steps, the earl replied, “Of course. How many could there be at this hour?”
“Very well, my lord.”
It was only when the people started filing into the hall that Brenlaw realized how many had actually been standing outside. He knew there was a crowd, but he had not expected most of the village to be waiting at the door. In moments, the large room was full.
The Inspector met the earl at the bottom of the staircase. “I was wondering, my lord, if you wouldn’t mind giving us an account of your movements over the last few days. Start with four days ago.”
“Certainly, Inspector. I got up around nine-ish…”
“Wait a moment, my lord”—Matthews turned to his subordinate—“Constable Daniels, what time did Miss Taylor come into the station?”
“She arrived at about nine-thirty in the morning.”
“She went to the station that morning?” the earl asked, surprised. “What could have sent her there?”
“Yes, my lord,” the young officer replied. “We don’t know why, my lord.”
“Don’t address his lordship,” the inspector said. “I’m doing the questioning.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“And, constable,” the superior officer asked, “did she say why she wished to speak with the commanding officer?”
“She said she had something important to speak to you about, but it was a sensitive matter, and she would be by later in the afternoon.”
“Thank you, constable. We also have information that a young friend of Miss Taylor’s had likewise been informed that she was to contact the missing woman because of urgent business. My lord, do you know what it was she wished to tell?”
Brenlaw glanced at his master. Lord Yawron stood very still. His breathing didn't change. His body didn’t tense. To those who did not know him, he may have appeared quite unperturbed by what he heard. To someone who had learned to read his visual clues so well, however, it was clear his lordship was not nearly so insouciant.
The earl replied coolly, “I don’t understand how I could be expected to know what Miss Taylor may have wished to say.”
“You know Miss Taylor.”
“So do you, Inspector. So do many here. That doesn't mean I'm privy to all her personal concerns.”
A male voice snickered. “Bet he's privy to more of her than the rest of us.”
The cowl turned slowly towards the speaker. The hidden glare was clear and powerful enough that the man stepped back and lowered his head. Without a word, Lord Yawron turned his attention back to the Inspector.
Chapter 23
“Anything else?” Christopher asked the Inspector with deliberate calm. “Such an inquiry seems a strange thing to drag you all the way out here with this entourage.”
The Inspector cleared his throat. “We also have several witness reports of you riding in the direction of her house some hours later.”
Equally dryly, he asked, “Is riding through the village a crime now, Inspector? Do I need a license or something?”
“No sir. Did you go to her house?”
“Yes.”
A ripple of excitement spread through the crowd. An air of hostility rose in the room. Christopher noticed it instantly and wondered what it meant.
“Why did you go there, my lord?”
“I wished to speak with her.”
“What about?”
“It was a personal matter.”
“Had you quarreled?”
“Inspector, I can hardly be expected to discuss my private business with half the village listening.”
The police inspector shrugged. “Very well then. Did you see her?”
“No. She wasn’t at home.”
“What did you do then?”
With a put-upon sigh, he recited the rest. “Brenlaw and I left a note and rode back to this house. Mr. Logan stopped us on the way, and we had a rather lengthy conversation. You can ask him, if you like.”
“He's right,” the merchant in question called from a row or two back. “I told you he had nothing to do with it.”
“When did you leave the grocer’s?”
“It was late afternoon. The sun was lowering towards the horizon.”
“Did you come back here by the London road or the old Roman track through the forest?”
“We took the London road, of course,” Christopher replied casually. “It's the shortest and most direct way.”
The commotion resulting from that admission disturbed him. He knew why the Inspector asked these questions, but he did not understand the way the crowd reacted to his answers. “Look, Inspector, I’m willing to help you in any way I can, but dash it, what is this all about?”
“Do you recognize this?” The policeman removed a piece of notepaper tucked in an envelope from his wallet.
With a sigh, Christopher glanced briefly at the sheet. “Of course I do. It's the message I left at Miss Taylor’s house.” Another excited murmur flowed through the gathering.
“Where exactly did you leave it?”
Christopher’s patience was beginning to wear thin at the constant questioning. “In the mail slot, where you presumably found it.”
“In the mail slot?”
“That’s right, Inspector, the mail slot.”
“Then you’ll be surprised to learn that we found this message in the lady’s sitting room.”
“Oh?” He was particularly unimpressed, and he made certain everyone knew it.
“And that the cottage in question had been ransacked.”
At that news, Christopher started. What the hell? “Ransacked?”
“Yes, sir. Most of her furniture was damaged, the kitchen had broken dishes everywhere, and even the clothes in her bedroom were strewn about and torn. My lord, did you ever, at any time, enter the house?”
“Of course not! I told you, she was not home.”
“So you have no idea how this note got inside Miss Taylor’s house? Nor how the house got in such disarray?”
“I’ve told you, Inspector, no.” Exasperated, Christopher huffed slightly. “We weren’t there but a few moments. Just long enough to write that note. And there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary when we left.”
“Could she have brought it in before the place was wrecked?” Brenlaw asked.
The detective shook his head. “When we found it, this paper was resting undamaged on top of a broken table in the sitting room. Almost like a calling card.”
Christopher scoffed. “If we had done anything of the sort at Miss Taylor’s, do you think we’d leave something like that lying around?”
“If you meant it as an intimidating warning, you would,” Lara shouted. “Or if it was dropped during a struggle!”
“You’ve been reading too many mystery stories, young lady,” Christopher countered with a snort. “Are you suggesting we abducted Miss Taylor on horseback, and no one observed us? Mr. Logan spoke to us when we were heading home. Don't you think he would notice something odd if we were running off with her?”
Lara hesitated a moment and then suggested, “She might have gotten away from you, and you hunted her down.”
“She ran away from us and promptly drove her car here?”
Regaining control of the interrogation, the Inspector asked, “You don't deny that's her car?”
“Why should I deny it? Everyone knows what her vehicle looks like. It's not as if I can drive.”
“Ca
n Brenlaw drive or anyone on your staff?”
“If I caused the damage at her house, why would I or any of my people bring her car here to point the suspicion right at me? Why leave it in front of my house?”
Trying to ease the tension, Brenlaw made another suggestion. “Could she have arrived after the house was ransacked, and, frightened, ran out, dropping the letter she'd just picked up?”
The Inspector shook his head. “Unlikely, sir. The door was off its hinges. Seeing that, no one in their right mind would stop to check the post. And there was the other item.”
“Other item?” Christopher looked at his servant in confusion.
“Yes, my lord. This one.” The policeman removed another piece of paper from his wallet. “We found it in her rubbish bin.”
Christopher glanced at the words cut out of newspaper clippings. Realizing what it was, he stared in shock. He read the paper before him, his mind spinning.
The vile gloating message turned his stomach. How long had she been receiving such filth? Was it a note like this that led to her infamous sleepless night?
“Do you recognize it, my lord?”
Finally recovering some of his composure, he replied, “It… um… looks like a poison-pen letter. Do I seem the sort who writes poison-pen letters?”
The inspector, to his credit, did not flinch at the dripping sarcasm. “In my experience, my lord…”
“And if, as you say, I had meant to intimidate or frighten Miss Taylor in some way—for whatever mad reason you may have thought up—wouldn't I be more likely to be sure she knew who had sent the message?”
The inspector deflated a little. “Perhaps.”
Lara spoke again, “Even if it is as he says, how did Margaret’s car get outside his house? Why the skid marks? And where is she?”
“Good points, Miss Raimond,” Inspector Matthews remarked. “My lord, do you know where Miss Taylor is?”
Christopher glanced at Brenlaw, his mind racing. Should they explain what had happened—to the Inspector at least? They really did not know who had attacked Maggie. That it was his former fiancée was only conjecture. It could have been someone else. Could they risk exposing Maggie to more danger, when she had only stabilized recently? The butler just gazed back with no answer to give.
He glanced at the crowd. Teresa was there, standing front and center. The arrogance of the woman! If nothing else, there was no way in hell she was getting anywhere near Maggie. He would kill the she-devil first.
Suddenly, his nemesis narrowed her eyes and shouted, “Enough of this! She must be here, so just search every room.” Barely noticing the hidden yet palpable glare his lordship was giving her, she tried to push her way to the stairs.
The Inspector grasped her arm. “I’m sorry, Miss Houseman. I can’t do that and neither can you.”
Teresa scowled. “Why not?”
“While there may be probable cause for it, I don’t have a warrant, and, despite your family's connections, you don’t have any authority either.”
“How long will it take to get one, a warrant I mean?”
“At this time of night, it might take a few hours, if we can find a judge.”
“By that time, he could have disposed of the body. The estate is so huge, we’d never find it.”
“What makes you so sure it’s murder?”
“I’m not. I was thinking more like abduction and… other vile things I’d rather not name. You saw the hoof marks and signs of struggle in the wheat field. You found the… unmentionables and the blood.”
Suddenly, the earl realized why the road he had taken home had been so significant, and why half the village knew of its importance. They had been to the site of the attack and, following the horses’ hoof-prints, had come looking for Maggie. The Inspector had pretended ignorance of the trail both out of respect and as a part of shrewd police-work.
Christopher seethed with impotent anger. How perfectly everything had been arranged! Even a missing body had been turned to an advantage.
Lara’s voice surfaced again. “If it isn’t murder yet, it will be now that he knows we’re on to him.”
“You speak like cheap American fiction,” Christopher replied, dryly mocking. “There’s nothing to be ‘on to me’ about.”
Teresa was fuming. “Can’t you at least hold him on suspicion?”
The Inspector thought for a moment. “Under normal conditions, I wouldn’t like to take a peer in on what we have. Someone could have ransacked the place after you left and the wind blew the note there, you understand. But there are other considerations.”
“I can imagine what they are,” The earl commented acidly.
Matthews glared at him pointedly. “Actually, my lord, I was thinking of the safety of the lady. Her car is here, after all, and there are signs she or some other female was injured on your land.”
His lordship bowed in apology. “Of course. I’m sorry, Inspector.”
“I’m afraid, my lord, I shall have to take you and Mr. Brenlaw in for further questioning. I would also insist that your household staff move into the servants' quarters. To assure nothing is changed before we get the warrant signed, I will leave some constables on guard here. Once we get a warrant, we will search your estate.”
“I understand.” The earl straightened his back. “Come, Brenlaw. Inspector, we will follow your lead.”
Two policemen flanked the earl and a third stood beside the butler. However, they did not put Christopher or his servant in handcuffs. He was saved from that indignity at least.
As he passed Teresa, Christopher muttered, “Check, but not mate.”
She simply smirked and raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. Seeing her self-satisfied grin, any doubts he might have still held about her guilt vanished in an instant. With a shiver, he realized that time was now on her side. Given her gift for manipulation and innuendo, she would undoubtedly use it to the fullest.
She had tried to kill his Maggie in cold blood. She was still trying. What is more, she wanted to frame him for it. He had to keep her away from her target at all costs. But how?
Stopping suddenly, Christopher asked, “Inspector, may I speak with you privately? It is urgent.”
“Claiming noble privilege, your lordship?” Teresa accused. “Going to talk your way out of this, using your title as collateral?”
Though she addressed the peer, the jibe was aimed at the policeman. It was a masterstroke. By implying the Inspector would give his noble prisoner special considerations due to rank, she ensured that he would receive none. In fact, he may be treated more harshly to undermine any suggestions to the contrary.
The Inspector took an uncomfortable look around. Everyone was watching him to see what he’d do. Even if he might wish to, he could not show any favoritism now.
“I’m sorry, my lord. You’ll just have to wait until we reach the police station. Constable, call this in. Men, take Brenlaw and his lordship outside to await the Black Maria transport.”
The officers at either side of Christopher began to lead him through the crowd. The simmering tension and hostility of the people he passed made him wonder whether he would reach the police facility at all. He heard people cursing at him, calling him a scoundrel, a murderer, and worse. As he glanced around, he did not like the calculating looks he was getting from several people in the crowd.
Suddenly, Lara Raimond, who had caused so much trouble already, called, “Let’s see the villain’s face!”
Jumping up, she snatched down the hood. Shocked that anyone would dare to expose him like that, he spun to face her. She stumbled back, a look of horror on her face. The crowd stepped quickly away as his face was revealed. He knew what they saw. A monster.
Chapter 24
Lara stared at the beast she had so impulsively revealed. He loomed up in her vision, a hulking half-formed creature of nightmares. For a long moment, he just glared at her.
Scars crossed his forehead. Thick lines striped the right side of his face and s
lit his mouth, nose, and chin. One ear was badly mangled, and there was no hair for several inches above it. Smaller tracks intersected the larger ones, giving one half of his countenance a shredded or hashed appearance. The eye on the injured side was white as milk.
His body stiffened, becoming ramrod straight. He fisted his hands tight at his sides. Shivering and breathing hard, he glared at the shocked, gawking faces around him. While the healthy cornflower-blue eye darted around in alarm and agitation, the damaged one gazed straight ahead.
As if released from a spell, Lara staggered away the moment he broke eye contact. Those villagers old enough to remember the former earl suddenly seemed to recall the infamous Tobias temper. Fear slid over their expressions. The whole group fell back as though expecting a violent explosion.
After a moment, the hunted look faded from Lord Yawron’s face. He simply closed his eyes and dropped his head with a wince. As he turned the ruined half of his visage to the floor, his brown hair draped in front of his face.
“Damn it,” he whispered under his breath.
“For Christ’s sake!” The Inspector cried, moving to replace the cowl.
The mortified earl raised a hand imperiously. On instinct, the Inspector stopped and waited. There was a long pause. Then, with a deep breath, Christopher visibly relaxed.
“No, Inspector,” he said with a hoarse yet regal tone. “No more.” Amid an awed hush, he pulled himself upright, straightened his shoulders and his cuffs, and set his face firmly. “No more hiding.”
The Inspector stepped away with an understanding nod. Almost apologetically, he said, “You will have to come with me, my lord.” Receiving a gesture of consent, he turned to his subordinate. “Constable, clear this mob out of here, so his lordship can be brought in peaceably.”
Flashing a full-faced glare and a cryptic “Like your handiwork?” at Teresa, the earl began to walk out. Despite everything, he strode forward with his pride and dignity intact.
“Stop!” A cry echoed from the balcony. All gazes turned upward, including the party of police and prisoners.
“Maggie!” Christopher breathed, staring at the vision in the minstrel gallery.