Ashworth Hall - Anne Perry [130]
“Doyle,” Tellman said again. “Makes sense. That’s how McGinley knew about the dynamite, because they’re on the same side. Doyle must have said something and given himself away. Either that, or McGinley was in it from the beginning, then he had second thoughts … changed his mind.”
Pitt said nothing. Tellman was right, it did make sense—much as he fought against the thought, for Eudora’s sake. They were at the far side of the cedar now and the sun shone through the cloud in bars making a glittering surface on the wet grass.
“Can’t prove it, mind,” Tellman added irritably. “Could be they’d all lie to protect each other. Even Mrs. Greville maybe, though it was her husband. If she knew anything about his goings-on, she can’t have had any love for him. And she’s Irish, isn’t she? Catholic … and Nationalist.”
“I don’t know,” Pitt said crossly. “She may have wanted peace just as much as Greville did himself.” He sighed. “I’d like to know who the maid was that Gracie saw on the landing.”
“No one that I can find,” Tellman said bluntly. “I’ve asked them all, and no one admits to being there.”
“Might be frightened.” Pitt stared at the grass thoughtfully. They were approaching the rugosa hedge and the fields beyond, rolling gently towards a stand of elms, most of their leaves gone now. Over to the west a shaft of sunlight shone silver on the wet village roofs, and the spire of the church stood out darkly against the sky.
“Because they saw something?” Tellman asked, looking at Pitt skeptically. “Didn’t say anything then, and scared now?”
“Possibly. More likely didn’t see anything, just frightened of being involved at all. I refuse to say this is unsolvable. There’s only a limited number of people it could be. We’ve got another two days at least. We’re going to find the answer, Tellman.”
Tellman smiled, but there was no humor in it at all.
Pitt turned around and faced the gracious mass of Ashworth Hall again. It really was very beautiful in the autumn light. On the west facade the creeper was a scarlet stain against the warm color of the stone. It was a pleasure just to look at it. He glanced sideways to see Tellman’s face and was satisfied to catch a moment’s softness in it, as the loveliness moved him, in spite of himself.
They started back to the house together, roughly in step over the grass, feet soaked and now thoroughly cold.
“Gracie, I want you to remember exactly what you saw on the landing the evening Mr. Greville was killed,” Pitt said half an hour later when he found her alone in the ironing room. She looked terribly unhappy, as if she had been crying and would like nothing more than to creep away and be alone, had her duties allowed. He guessed it was something to do with the fondness he had seen her show for the young Irish valet, Finn Hennessey. Charlotte had warned him to be careful about that, and he had resented the fact that she thought such a warning necessary. Then he realized afterwards that he had not honestly been aware of it. He liked Gracie profoundly. He would hate to have hurt her, and he was unnecessarily angry that Hennessey should have, however unintentionally. He was not sure whether to let her know he was aware of her misery, or if it would be more tactful to pretend he had not noticed.
She sniffed and attempted to concentrate.
“I already told Mr. Tellman wot I saw. Din’t ’e tell yer? ’E’s a useless valet, ’e is. In’t ’e no good as a policeman neither?”
“Yes, he is good,” Pitt replied. “Although I daresay you are a better detective than he is a valet.”
“I in’t no use this time.” She stared down at the iron, although it was cold and she was not even pretending to use it. “We in’t none of us no use to yer this time. I’m really sorry, sir.”
“Don’t worry, Gracie, we’ll solve it,” he said with a certainty he did not feel. “Tell me about the maid you saw with the towels.”
She looked up at him with surprise. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and he had no doubt she had been crying.
“In’t yer found ’er yet? Stupid article! She in’t got nuffink ter be afraid of. She weren’t doin’ no wrong … just carryin