A Test of Wills - Charles Todd [97]
“You don’t know what had upset Lettice Wood? Or the Colonel?”
“It mustn’t have been too important,” Redfern answered. “I saw her the next day, looking radiant. Walking down to the churchyard with Mr. Royston. I ought to be back in the dining room—”
Rutledge let him go with a nod of thanks.
He sat there, biting into the thick beef sandwiches, not even aware of the taste or the texture, absently drinking his coffee. There was a slice of sponge cake for dessert.
Wilton had motive, he had opportunity, and he had access to a weapon. All that was left was to clear up loose ends and then make the arrest. And to explain to Bowles on Monday morning the reasons behind the decision.
Was Tuesday the day that the Colonel had told his ward what he was planning to do? To call off the wedding?
But why? It was an excellent marriage from any point of view, as far as an outsider could tell. Wilton and Lettice were well matched in every way—socially, financially, of an age. Unless there were things about Wilton that Charles Harris knew and didn’t like. Then why allow the engagement to take place seven months ago? Because he hadn’t known at the time?
What could he have learned in the last week that would have made him change his mind? Something from Wilton’s past—or present?
The only other person who could answer that question was Lettice herself.
Rutledge drove out to Mallows in sunlight that poured through large cracks in the heavy black clouds, bringing heat in waves with it.
Lettice agreed to see him, and he was taken up to the sitting room by Johnston.
There was a little more color in her face this afternoon, and she seemed stronger. As he came into the room, she turned to him as she’d done before and said at once, “Something’s happened. I can tell.”
“It’s been a rather busy morning. Mavers was on the loose as services ended at the church. He raked most everyone there over the coals, as vicious a display of hate as I’ve ever seen. Royston, the Captain, Mrs. Davenant, Miss Sommers, the Inspector—even people I don’t know.”
Lettice frowned. “Why?”
“Because he’d just discovered that his pension from Charles Harris ended with the Colonel’s death. And he was furious.”
She was genuinely surprised. “Charles paid him a pension?”
“Apparently.”
Lettice gestured to one of the chairs and sat down herself. “It’s the sort of thing Charles might do. Still—Mavers!”
“And a very good reason for Mavers not to kill him.”
“But you said Mavers didn’t know the pension would end.”
“That’s right. He stopped Royston as he came out of the church and asked if the Will had made any provision for the pension to continue. All those months when he agitated for Harris’s death, Mavers doesn’t seem to have considered the fact that he might lose his own golden goose.”
She sighed. “Well. You said there were witnesses who claimed Mavers was haranguing everyone on Monday morning. He wasn’t in the running anyway, was he?”
“I’ve discovered that he could have been. With a little planning. But he isn’t high on my list. Tell me, what did you and Charles Harris argue about on Tuesday at the Inn? Or rather, in the garden there?”
The swift change in subject caught her unprepared, and her eyes widened and darkened as she stared at him.
“You might as well tell me about it,” he said gently. “I already know what Harris and Mark Wilton quarreled about on Sunday evening after dinner. And again on Monday morning in the lane. Harris was planning to call off the wedding. I have a witness.”
Her color went from flushed to pale and back again. “How could you have a witness,” she demanded huskily. “Who is this witness?”
“It doesn’t matter. I know. That’s what’s important. Why didn’t you tell me before? Why did you pretend, when Mark Wilton came to the house, and I was there to overhear, that you were calling the wedding