A False Mirror - Charles Todd [92]
But surely even if her temper had got the best of her on the strand, she would have owned up to her actions and taken full responsibility for them. Duty carried with it responsibility.
Before he left, Rutledge put one final question to Miss Esterley.
“Do you happen to know Mrs. Reston’s maiden name?”
“Her maiden name? No, I don’t believe I do. Is it important?”
“I’ve been told that she came from a very good family and might have known Hamilton in the years before he went abroad.”
“Indeed? If that’s true, I never heard anyone bring it up. And I’m sure it would have become known. When the Hamiltons arrived in Hampton Regis, everyone was scrambling for an introduction. Mrs. Reston would have been exceedingly popular, if she’d had any sort of connection. I’ve told you, I was the first to make his acquaintance, because of my accident. I know how quickly people suddenly discovered how very much they enjoyed my company.” It was said wryly, even with a touch of bitterness.
But it was possible that Henrietta Reston had had her own reasons to keep the past in the past. And her relationship with Hamilton buried there.
It was not likely in a village the size of Hampton Regis that Rutledge could avoid the newcomer, Stratton, for long if the man set out in search of him. He had only to ask the desk clerk for a description of the motorcar and he would soon track it down. But as Rutledge left Miss Esterley, he was pleased not to find Stratton leaning against the wing, waiting for him.
Rutledge went again to the rectory to assure himself that Bennett had spoken to Mr. Putnam about the larder at Casa Miranda.
Bennett had sent someone round, Putnam told him in a low voice. And he was to be driven up to the Hamiltons’ door in a greengrocer’s cart at a quarter past three.
“Dr. Granville is asleep finally, and I hesitated to leave him alone just now. But I’ll only be there long enough to help hand in the choices that Mrs. Bennett is making. I can only hope they’re to Mrs. Hamilton’s liking.”
Rutledge smiled in spite of himself. “Quite.”
“That’s a volatile situation, you know, with Mr. Mallory. I have prayed to find a way to resolve it. I’m sure he wants to find a resolution as well. But so far there’s been no clear answer.”
“There will be none, until we discover who tried to kill Hamilton.”
“Yes, sadly, it’s for the law, isn’t it, to bring us safely through. I can only do my best to keep peace where it is needed most. And that’s here for the moment.”
“Thank you for agreeing to help.”
“Not at all. You will keep me informed, won’t you? I can’t be everywhere, and of late I seem to have been in all the wrong places.” It was said ruefully but with conviction. “I should have foreseen something. If I had known my flock as I so often pride myself I do, I should have sensed the injuries that were driving people to desperate measures. Whatever it was that has led us to this.”
“It isn’t your failure, Rector. Murder is a private matter. It’s when a man or woman has no other resources available that he or she turns to a last act of violence. Would that a priest could do our work for us at the Yard.”
“Small comfort, Mr. Rutledge, when it is one of your own who has been maimed and now murdered. I lie awake with that knowledge on my soul, and tell myself that somewhere I shall find that slim gleam of understanding I need to go forward.”
Alarmed, Rutledge said, “You’ll stay out of this, Mr. Putnam. Any knowledge you feel you possess, you must bring to me. Do I have your word on that? This is a cold-blooded killer, not a lost sheep from St. Luke’s flock who can be brought back into the fold with a prayer for guidance.”
Putnam smiled. “I’m not as brave as that. You needn’t fear. I’m no Becket, challenging kings or murderers. But I ought to be clever enough to understand my own congregation, don’t you think?”
With that he shut the door softly and left Rutledge standing on the rectory steps.
Miss Trining was not pleased with Rutledge and made no bones about