Cold Vengeance - Lincoln Child [17]
Ainslie nodded curtly to Balfour as the inspector took a seat. Then, glancing around, he cleared his throat.
“This court of inquiry has been summoned to establish the facts surrounding the disappearance and possible demise of Mr. Aloysius X. L. Pendergast. I say ‘possible’ due to the fact that no body has been recovered. The only witness to Mr. Pendergast’s death is the person who may have killed him—Judson Esterhazy, his brother-in-law.” Ainslie’s scowl deepened, his face so desiccated it almost looked as if it might flake off from the effort. “Since Mr. Pendergast has no living relations, one could say that Judson Esterhazy appears here not only as the person responsible for Mr. Pendergast’s accident but as his family representative, as well. As a result, this proceeding is not—and cannot be—a standard inquest, because in this case there is no body and the fact of death remains to be established. We shall, however, follow the form of an inquest. Our purpose then is to establish the facts of the disappearance as well as the proximate circumstances, and to rule, if the facts allow, on whether a death has or has not occurred. We will hear testimony from all concerned, then make a determination.”
Ainslie turned to Esterhazy. “Dr. Esterhazy, do you agree that you are a properly interested person in this matter?”
Esterhazy nodded. “I do.”
“And you have declined, of your own free will, to retain a solicitor?”
“That is correct.”
“Very well. Before we begin, let me remind all present of Coroner’s Rule 36: an inquest is not a gathering in which any civil or criminal liability can be assigned—although we can determine if the circumstances meet certain legal definitions of culpability. The determination of culpability is a matter to be taken up separately by the courts, if warranted. Are there any questions?”
When the room remained silent, Ainslie nodded. “Then let us proceed to the evidence. We shall begin with a statement from Ian Cromarty.”
Inspector Balfour listened as the lodgekeeper spoke at some length of Pendergast and Esterhazy—of his initial impressions of them, of how they had shared dinner together the night before, of how Esterhazy had burst in the following morning crying that he had shot his brother-in-law. Next, Ainslie questioned a few of the Kilchurn Lodge guests who had witnessed Esterhazy’s frantic, disheveled return. Then he turned to Grant, the gamekeeper. As the proceedings continued, Ainslie’s face remained an astringent mask of disapproval and suspicion.
“You’re Robert Grant, correct?”
“Aye, sir,” the wizened old man replied.
“How long have you been gamekeeper at Kilchurn?”
“Going on thirty-five years, sir.”
At Ainslie’s request, Grant described in detail the trek to the site of the accident and the death of the search dog.
“How common is it for hunters from your lodge to venture into the Foulmire?”
“Common? It isnae common. It’s agin the rules.”
“So Pendergast and Dr. Esterhazy here violated those rules.”
“That they did.”
Balfour could see Esterhazy stirring uncomfortably at this.
“Such behavior signals a lack of judgment. Why did you let them go out on their own?”
“Because I recalled them from before.”
“Go on.”
“The pair of them were here once, some ten, twelve years back. I took them out meself, I did. Bloody good shots, knew exactly what they