The Sins of the Wolf - Anne Perry [163]
“If you know so much about the business,” Eilish challenged him in a choking voice, “how is it you knew nothing about the land in Easter Ross and that she was getting no rent from it?”
Kenneth seemed to be forgotten, at least temporarily. All eyes turned to Eilish, and then to Baird. No one took the slightest notice of Monk or Hester.
Baird looked up at them, his face wretched.
“Mary knew everything that I did, and it was done with her permission,” he said quietly. “That is all I will tell you.”
“Well, it is not enough.” Alastair swung around at him desperately. “Good God, man! Mother is dead—poisoned by someone. The police aren’t going to accept an answer like that. If Miss Latterly didn’t do it, then one of us did!”
“I didn’t.” Baird’s voice was barely a whisper between his lips. “I loved Mary, more than anyone else … except …” He stopped. Few in the room doubted he was going to say “Eilish,” not “Oonagh.”
Oonagh was very pale, but perfectly composed. Whatever emotions tore her at such a reality, they were too well concealed by time, familiarity, or sheer courage to show now.
“Of course,” Alastair said bitterly. “We would hardly expect you to say anything less. But words are immaterial now; it is only facts that matter.”
“Nobody knows the facts,” Quinlan pointed out. “We only know what Mary’s papers say, what the bankers say, and Baird’s excuses. I don’t know what other facts you think there are.”
“I imagine the police may think that sufficient,” Monk responded. “At least for trial. What else they find, or need, is their affair.”
“Is that what you are going to do?” Eilish was desperate; it stared out of her anguished face and rang in the rising pitch of her voice. “Just accuse, and leave it to the police? Baird is one of the family. We’ve lived with him in this house, known him every day for years, shared our dreams and our hopes with him. You can’t just—just say he’s guilty—and abandon him.” She looked wildly from one to another of them, all except Quinlan, ending with Oonagh, perhaps to whom she had always turned in times of need.
“We are not abandoning him, my dear,” Oonagh said quietly. “But we have no alternative to facing the truth, however terrible it is for us. One of us killed Mother.”
Unintentionally Eilish looked again at Hester, then blushed scarlet.
“That won’t work, my sweet,” Quinlan said sourly. “Of course it is still possible. ‘Not proven’ is a vicious verdict, but they cannot try her again, whatever they think. And let us face facts, her reason hardly matches Baird’s. He could have slipped the brooch into her bag … she could hardly have embezzled Mother-in-law’s rents.”
“For God’s sake, Baird, why don’t you say something?” Deirdra burst out after her long silence. She went to Eilish and put her arm around her. “Can’t you see what this is doing to all of us?”
“Deirdra, please control your language,” Alastair reproved almost automatically.
Monk was amused. If Alastair had the faintest idea of his wife’s midnight activities, he would be grateful it was so relatively mild. Monk would swear she knew a great deal that was more colorful than that from her mechanic friend.
“There seems only one way.” Hester spoke for the first time since the charge had been made against Baird. Everyone looked at her with some surprise.
“I don’t know what it can be.” Alastair frowned. “Do you know something that we don’t?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Quinlan said. “Mother-in-law would hardly confide her business to Miss Latterly on one day’s acquaintance, and not tell at least Oonagh, if not all of us.”
“Miss Latterly?” Alastair turned to her.
“One of us must go to the croft in Ross-shire and learn what has happened to the rents,” she replied. “I have no idea how far it is, but it hardly matters. It must be done.”
“And which of us will you trust?” Deirdra asked dryly. “I can think of no one.”
“Monk, of course,” Hester replied. “He has no interest whatever in the answer