A cold treachery - Charles Todd [88]
“It's an off chance,” Rutledge agreed.
“Still, I like Taylor a damned sight better than the suspects we have in hand. It makes no sense to me that that child killed his family. It makes no sense that Paul should have done it. He's not a man with backbone, if you follow me. I don't know what to think about Miss Ashton; she's a dark horse. But it's hard to imagine a woman shooting children. What else did your sergeant come up with?”
“Janet Ashton gave up a very good position in the City to move to Carlisle. Her reason for leaving was her sister's ill health.”
“I'd never heard that Grace Elcott was ill! Other than the pregnancy, that is. Go on.”
“There's very little information about Hugh Robinson. He was a prisoner of war, came home to be treated for a stubborn infection in his back, and when he was dismissed, he took up his old position as a bookkeeper at a firm in Hampshire.”
“That tallies.” Greeley leaned back in his chair.
“Nothing on Paul Elcott.”
“Not surprising. He's lived all his life here in Westmorland.”
There was one other name on Rutledge's list, but he said nothing about it to Greeley.
Word of Taylor had already preceded Rutledge to the hotel. When he arrived, Janet Ashton demanded to know if there was any truth in the story that they had found their murderer.
“Because I don't believe a word of it! Gerald never said anything to me about this man you're looking for. And Grace would have told me if he had said anything to her!”
“Apparently during the leave when you met him, Elcott was testifying in the court-martial. There was insufficient evidence for Taylor to hang, but he was convicted on lesser charges. The man was in prison,” Rutledge told her. “And in spite of his threats, he was in no position to carry them out. I daresay it was an experience Elcott preferred not to talk about.”
She shook her head. “You didn't know Gerald! He wasn't the sort to ignore danger!”
“The authorities didn't send word to him that Taylor had escaped. Elcott had no warning.”
“So you're satisfied that the case is solved. We're free to go. And if the police ever find this man Taylor, they'll charge him with my sister's murder, and you'll be in Derbyshire or wherever the Yard decides to send you next, and it won't matter! Another feather in your cap for closing the case—”
“You aren't free to go anywhere until I tell you that you can leave,” Rutledge answered harshly, on the point of losing his temper. “As for Taylor, it's possible he's guilty. But until I'm satisfied on that score, this investigation is not closed!”
He turned on his heel and stalked down the passage to the kitchen.
Elizabeth Fraser was there, and she looked up at his angry face.
After a moment she said, “Is there anything I can do?”
“I'm going to be out for a time,” he told her. “If anyone asks for me, I'll be back as soon as possible.”
He was cranking the motorcar when Cummins came around the side of the house. As the motor caught and he was opening the driver's door, Cummins called, “Inspector? I need to speak with you—”
Rutledge shifted the motorcar into reverse. “If it can wait until I come back—”
“I don't know,” Cummins said, flustered. “I want to ask about the information you got from London.”
“Then it can wait.” He put the motorcar into gear and turned towards the road. The snow was melting enough now to splash as he drove through the ruts. And it took him no time at all to reach the farm of Maggie Ingerson. But the lane was still high with unplowed snow, and he swore as the wheels bit and slipped up the long incline to the yard.
She came out before he could stop the motor and get down to knock. She said nothing, waiting for him to speak to her.
“I need your help,” he told her. “You told me the last time I came that you were one of the few people who could find the track that led over the fells to the coast road.”
“I told you I could find it on a good day,” she answered him warily.
“It may already be too late. But I want to see for myself if anyone