Murder on the Moor - C. S. Challinor [63]
“It’s no verra good,” the boy apologized. “She drew it in the steam on the mirror.”
“It’s recognizable. It’s Rob Roy Beardsley without the specs and full beard,” Rex said, showing it to the inspector.
“Isna that the man who was arrested earlier?” Strickler asked. “I’m not sure I follow.”
Rex turned to Flora. “When you saw Donnie—”
“He was coming out of the bathroom,” the young woman said in a rush. “He paused for a split second when he saw me and then took off down the stairs. I saw the top of Moira’s head in the bath and closed the door. I didn’t know she was dead then. But she wasn’t dead, was she? I really didn’t know what was going on. I thought Donnie had walked in on her by accident.”
“No, she wasna dead at that point. What about the shadow on the stairs?”
“That was later on. I was on my way to the stable to see Donnie and find out what he’d been up to. It was Mrs. Farquharson I saw. I made up the bit about the weapon when I found out what had happened to Moira. I wanted everybody to think a stranger had broken into the house.”
By this time, Sergeant Dawes had joined his partner and was keeping a sharp eye on Donnie in case the boy decided to bolt. Shona had slipped out of the car and stood by her daughter, a hopeful look on her perplexed face.
“Gentlemen, this is not the person who killed Moira Wilcox,” Rex repeated vehemently, gesturing toward Donnie.
The pair exchanged weary glances.
“Mr. Graves, it’s been a verra long forty-eight hours.” Strickler did indeed look done in, badly in need of a change of clothes and a shave.
“I know,” Rex said, “but the crime could not have been committed by Donnie Allerdice.”
“And how not?” the sergeant asked.
“Everything you said back at the house made sense to me,” Strickler added.
“Except for one thing.”
“And what might that be?”
“Donnie left through the bathroom door, not the window. Hamish mentioned that Flora had seen him on the landing. So the door would have been unlocked. When I went in this morning, Moira was gone and the door was locked. It was locked all night.”
“Perhaps the boy came back for her and left through the window,” Strickler suggested.
“No time. Shona Allerdice heard the body fall to the ground at 12:15 a.m. Just before midnight, I was downstairs with Helen, the Allerdice women, and Beardsley. Hamish Allerdice and the Farquharsons were upstairs when Moira went to take her bath. The window of opportunity for murder, probably less than ten minutes from when Cuthbert said he bid her goodnight, was too narrow for Donnie to make a second attempt. He must have just missed running into Alistair on the stairs, according to my timeline.”
“So, who killed Ms. Wilcox?” the senior officer asked.
“I believe you have already taken him into custody. The reason Beardsley killed her was because she recognized him. He was convicted of child molestation seven years ago, when they were both living in Glasgow. Moira might have seen his face on the news. He was sent to prison for five years. The next time he molested a child, he made sure the victim would not live to testify against him. After the first three murders, he bided his time for a while and struck again only when Collins was acquitted in the Kirsty MacClure case.”
“Could you not have figured this oot before?” Strickler inquired.
“When Moira said something about him seeming familiar, I thought she could easily have been mistaken as he’s verra nondescript.”
“Sexual predators often are,” Dawes pointed out.
“Apart from the doubts I had over whether Donnie could have hidden the mobile phones and cut the line, he seemed the most likely suspect. He was absent much of the night, he could control the pony, and he had motive. I knew Flora was lying about the intruder. It’s only when Helen talked about unmasking the killer that I understood