A False Mirror - Charles Todd [46]
Rutledge tried to remember when he’d had mumps. Bowles would call for his head, if he got them now. Measles had spread through the trenches. That had been nothing compared with the sweep of the influenza epidemic.
When the woman brought his next course, he asked, “Is there anyone living in or near Hampton Regis by the name of Cole? A Miss Cole?”
“No, sorry. I don’t believe there is. Perhaps it would help if you knew her married name?” But he didn’t, and she was off to the kitchen once more.
For once even Hamish was quiet. There were only a handful of people in the room. Two women who looked enough alike to be sisters. Two men having an earnest discussion at a table by the window. Three women nearer the door who cast occasional glances in his direction as if they knew who he was. Their low-voiced conversation had about it the intensity of gossip. But it was one of the men by the window who came across to his table as they were leaving. The shorter one, with graying hair and a scar across his face.
“I’m George Reston,” he said, not holding out his hand. “I serve with Matthew Hamilton on the vestry committee. Is there any improvement in his condition?”
Reston…who held the goddess against Hamilton, or so the rector had told him.
“He’s in guarded condition,” Rutledge responded.
“Such a pity.” But the cold expression in his eyes belied his words.
Hamish’s voice rumbled through Rutledge’s mind. “He’s of the opinion Hamilton came by his just reward.”
Rutledge had to agree with that. Aloud, he said, “Yes, assault usually is.”
Reston stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“He was struck from behind. A cowardly way of settling a score, as I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Reston said only, “We are praying for him.” And he turned on his heel to go.
But Rutledge stopped him, rising to stand looking down at him. “We’re asking everyone in Hampton Regis to tell us where he or she was early Monday morning.”
Reston retorted tightly, “Are you suggesting that I’m a suspect?” His jaw was flexing with his anger.
Rutledge replied blandly, “We’re looking for witnesses. Anyone who might have seen anything, anyone who might have heard something. Perhaps unwittingly able to give us a small piece of information to solve the puzzle of what transpired there on the strand. I’m sure you’ll want to assist us with the inquiry?”
Reston seemed taken aback. “I was probably having breakfast with my wife.”
“When do you have breakfast?”
“When? Er, seven o’clock, I should think.”
“And when do you leave the house—as a rule?”
“I’m in my office at the bank by eight.”
The women at the other table had turned to stare, absorbing every word to repeat later to friends. Reston cast them a dark glance over his shoulder.
“I don’t pass the Mole on my way to the bank,” he went on, collecting himself. “If that’s what interests you.”
“Did you know Matthew Hamilton before he went to his posting in the Mediterranean?”
Something in Reston’s face changed, so swiftly that Rutledge wasn’t sure what it signified. “I’m afraid not. My first contact with him was through correspondence, when he was in search of a house along this stretch of the coast.”
“Thank you, Mr. Reston. I appreciate your cooperation.” Rutledge retrieved his serviette and sat down again, ending the conversation.
It was on the tip of Reston’s tongue to say something more, but he stopped himself and this time took his leave. His companion for lunch had already gone out, and Reston seemed annoyed when the woman serving tables told him as much.
Rutledge went back to his meal and made a point not to look at the three women who had been eavesdropping. After a time, they resumed their low-voiced conversation.
Hamish said, “Will ye speak to them as well?”
“Not now,” Rutledge answered. “I don’t think one of them could have overpowered Hamilton. Someone took a chance, striking him from behind. The first blow might not have been enough to stop him. But I’d wager whoever it was was prepared to finish what he’d started, if Hamilton did turn.”
“The youngest lass has a cane.” It was an observation that Rutledge