A False Mirror - Charles Todd [145]
“Because the killer—he or she—took it with him when he carted Hamilton off. And a very wise decision, from his point of view.”
“Then why didn’t he kill Hamilton once he got him out of the surgery?”
“Do I have to do all your thinking for you?” Hester asked with a crooked smile. “If he left a body lying about, you’d know there was a third person in that surgery. As long as it was likely that Hamilton walked out under his own power, you’ve got a complication.”
“And so—speaking hypothetically—our killer left him along the Exeter road, where a lorry driver could find him and save his life a second time.”
“If the killer had learned that Hamilton was not clear on anything and would stay that way, he might decide to leave him alive to take the blame for Mrs. Granville.” His eyes were sharp, his mind leaping ahead. “Did someone find him on the Exeter road?”
“Actually a lorry driver found him there. That’s all I’m making public, but the truth seems to be that Hamilton walked out of the surgery and took refuge in the cottage that went over in the landslip. But he had an inkling it was in danger and hid himself next in the henhouse of a farmer who’d gone off to market. At nightfall, he tried to walk down the road and passed out.”
“My God. Then he killed Mrs. Granville.”
“He’s confessed to it. But it’s possible someone came for Hamilton, discovered he was gone, and before he could get out of there, Mrs. Granville walked into the surgery.”
“Where is Hamilton now?”
“For safety, I’ve put him in his bed at the house, with his wife, Mallory, and Mr. Putnam to guard him.”
“For safety?” Hester frowned. “Aren’t you taking a chance there?”
“I don’t think Mallory tried to kill him. And I don’t think Hamilton killed Mrs. Granville.”
“What can he tell you?”
“Precious little.”
“Well, neither can I. Mrs. Granville died of that blow on the head, delivered with some force, mind you. And Nan Weekes was smothered as she slept. There’s nothing new in either case.”
“Hamilton is in a great deal of pain, as you’d expect. This is the sedative Dr. Granville prescribed for him.” Rutledge handed the box of powders to Hester.
“Are you telling me you don’t trust my colleague?” Hester demanded. “You think he’s out for revenge, for what happened to Margaret?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. Hamilton is alive at the moment, and I intend to see that he stays that way. I don’t want to discover too late that someone in the house took liberties with what Dr. Granville prescribed. Are these powders likely to do a great deal of harm if swallowed all at once?”
Hester examined the contents of one of the sleeves of powder. “They’re stronger than the sedative I left for Mrs. Hamilton, when she was upset. Hamilton is dealing with injuries that he’s very likely aggravated by activity. He’ll require more help. I’m satisfied that this medication is safe, but if I were you, I’d make sure no one else had access to it. Dr. Granville told me you’d had to deal with Mrs. Hamilton. I wouldn’t want her to try again and be more successful.”
“I’ll be certain to dole out the powders as needed. Personally.”
“A very wise precaution.” He got up and went to his medical bag. “How has she handled her husband’s return from the dead?”
“Not very well.”
“No, I thought not. Here. Take these pills with you too. If Hamilton is still having trouble with his memory and the powders seem to leave him more confused than he ought to be, or if he seems to be agitated while taking them, it might be best to have a choice. A little more pain, perhaps, but he won’t be raving. And if you were hard-pressed, one of these would calm his wife as well.”
Rutledge stood there, watching him work.
“Inspector?” Dr. Hester was holding out the packet of pills.
“Oh. Yes, thank you. If you come up with any suggestions for a murder weapon used for Mrs. Granville, we’ll offer you the next opening at the Yard.”
“I wouldn’t walk in your shoes for any amount of money. I’m satisfied with my own, thank you very much.”
Rutledge left, driving from Middlebury back to Hampton