Murder On A Summer's Day Part 30

Silence.

Now that he had begun, he must continue. I prompted. 'You were sad about the white doe, your pet.'

'Yes.'

Silence.

I glanced up at him. 'You saw the Indian prince in the barn, and you were angry.'

He was holding on to the branch with both hands. 'No. Didn't see him there, except in my dream. Didn't see no one. Just my doe.'

'But you were in the barn. I saw you. Yesterday.'

'I saw his ghost but not him. I only seed him in the wood, dead. Didn't see no prince till in the wood. Told you. You was there, with my dad.'

'Then why are you hiding? You haven't done anything wrong.'

The branch creaked a little under his weight. 'My dad is badly. I made my dad poorly.'

'Is that it? Is that why are you hiding? Because if so, you are wrong. What happened to your dad comes from inside, not from anything outside that another person does.'

'Because I told him. I made him poorly. I upset him inside.'

'How did you upset him?'

'He didn't tell me. No one told me. Only Osbert told me.'

'What did Osbert tell you?'

'When he jumped the Strid on Sat.u.r.day morning, he said it couldn't be helped. He said he couldn't have stopped the Indian shooting her. I didn't know because my dad didn't tell me. n.o.body did, 'cept Osbert. He telled me.'

'What happened when he told you?'

Joel rocked back and forth on the branch. It shook and groaned. 'I wouldn't let Osbert pa.s.s. He said I must let him pa.s.s. I wouldn't let him pa.s.s. He pushed me. I pushed him back. He fell. I tried to get him out the water. He floated away, b.u.mping along, under and over, under and over.'

I sat down on the ground. It looked dry but a damp coldness seeped through my skirt and stockings. Above me, Joel's feet swung back and forth, back and forth, like the feet of a corpse hanging from the scaffold.

Joel Withers had killed Osbert Hannon.

Still his feet swung back and forth.

'My doe is gone. Osbert is drowned. My dad is poorly. I should have taken better care of my doe.'

Joel Withers killed Osbert Hannon out of love for a doe.

'Come down out of the tree.'

'Why should I?'

'Looking up at you is making my neck hurt.'

'I like to be up tree. I can climb higher, and you can come up here.'

'No thank you.'

I lifted his blanket from the bender, folded it and sat with my back to the tree trunk. If he came down clumsily, he would land on my head. That might be a relief. I would have a very good excuse for retiring from the case.

I have to go home now due to a headache or a crushed skull caused by a gormless lad who inadvertently drowned his friend because of a wild animal's death, and then fell on my head.

After a long time, Joel said, 'I don't know who to tell.'

'You have told me.'

'It is my fault. People with great fault go to h.e.l.l.'

The wood was quite silent. Not a leaf stirred, not a bird called.

'Did you mean to push him in the river?'

'No. He can't swim. I can't swim.'

'If you didn't mean to do it, it was an accident.'

Manslaughter, a court might say.

'I went to tell her, to tell Jenny and Mrs Hannon. I dare not knock on the door.'

'Do you think you must tell them?'

'My dad said no. He said tell no one. But it mun come out of me.'

Was it too late for him to tell the Hannons, or too soon? 'Jenny is very tired today. She had a baby boy. She and the baby may be sleeping.'

'I'll tell 'em while they sleep. And I'll tell 'em when they wake. This morning there was no one there, not Jenny, not Mrs Hannon.'

'They were in Skipton. They are back now.'

He slid from the tree.

I stood.

He picked up his blanket and his pot.

'Wait, Joel. Let me come with you. We'll go together.'

When Mrs Hannon saw Joel, she was glad that he had come. She gave us both tea, and him bread, and asked him to chop wood and draw water from the well.

He did.

I sat beside Jenny and the sleeping baby.

When Joel brought the pail of water, Jenny waved him over. 'Come and look at the baby.'

He stared at the infant, and reached down to touch its tiny hand.

'You are a good lad, Joel,' Mrs Hannon said. 'The doctor says they will find a place for you near the hospital. You can make yourself useful to them there, and to the old folk in the almshouses, and you will be near your dad.'

Jenny handed the baby to Joel. 'Set him in the cradle you made. It's all ready for him. He'll like it.'

The rescued dog, scratching its ear and looking a little brighter, viewed proceedings from its spot on the rag rug.

When he had placed the baby in the cradle, Joel poured water from the pail to the jug.

'It was my fault Osbert fell in the water. I shouted at him for letting the Indian kill my doe. I pushed him.'

Jenny looked up. Her mouth fell open.

'Nay lad, you allus think summat is your fault. Jenny, pay him no heed.' Mrs Hannon turned to me. 'His mam died and he thought it was his fault, isn't that right, Joel? These things are no one's fault. We mun go on as best we can.'

'What am I to do?' Joel asked.

'Get yerself off to yon hospital while they'll have you. And tek that little terrier with you if you must have a pet. We've enough mouths to feed here without a dog.'

Joel bobbed down on his haunches. Making a beak of his fingers, he caught a flea from the dog's neck. 'I'll have my work cut out taking care of this little fellow.' He squashed a flea's egg between his thumbnails.

I hoped that no one would take a shotgun to Joel's new pet. Heaven help them if they did.

'Come on, Joel. We'll let Jenny rest. I'll give you a lift to the hospital and we'll see how your dad is getting on.'

As we drove back along the road, I saw that a marquee and a dozen tents of various shapes and sizes had mushroomed on the hill at the rear of Bolton Hall. White-clad figures darted in and out, or perched on their haunches, looking about them, chatting to each other. I stopped the car as I drew level with Mr c.u.mmings who stood by a wheelbarrow loaded with old army blankets.

He looked at us in surprise. 'You found him then? I could do with a hand here. Will you shift yerself, Joel?'

Joel stared at c.u.mmings. I guessed that in his mind, Joel had already left this place and was at the hospital with his father.

'What's going on, and what do you want us to do?'

'Oh, not you madam. But you see, it's the maharajahs. They all arrived for the funeral. Each one brought a trainload of servants and hangers-on. There isn't room for them all inside.'

'And you don't look well. Are you all right?'

He shook his head. 'There's sickness going round the village. I hope you don't get it, madam, or you'll be feeling none too clever.'

I climbed from the car. 'Here, let me help you. Give me and Joel some of those blankets.' He made as if to refuse. 'Come on, I was in the VAD during the war. I'm used to lending a hand.'

When Joel got out of the car, the little dog jumped into the driver's seat and sat there, looking important. Perhaps he thought his new life would always include a flea picker and a chauffeur.

We walked among the tents, listening to the chatter of strange tongues, watched by hundreds of eyes.

A cross-legged man played a flute. From a basket in front of him rose a graceful snake, peering about with a curling movement of elegant indifference.

Suddenly a shot rang out. All the men in the makeshift camp jumped to their feet and stood statue still, heads bowed.

Another shot, and another. It was the gun salute. Prince Narayan Halkwaer had been surrendered to the flames.

Thirty-Two.

Smoke still rose from the distant funeral pyre.

Reaching the hotel, I decided against looking about to see whether Sykes was loitering in the grounds, waiting to hear about my encounter with Joel. Having squeezed in so many tete-a-tetes, we would be in danger of raising eyebrows.

I was not in a hurry to see him. Once a policeman, always a policeman; he had been out of the force for several years, but never quite shook off his desire to put a hand on a person's shoulder and say, 'Come along with me, chummy.' I believe his biggest regret in moving into private detection was the lack of a pair of handcuffs. I did not want to hear the word manslaughter in relation to a young lad who would live forever with the nightmare of having caused his friend's death. If Joel insisted on repeating his story and someone went to the police, then so be it. I would do my best to see that he was well-defended.

c.u.mmings was standing in the hotel doorway, staring across at the smoke. He touched his cap, held the door for me, and then followed me into the foyer.

At the desk he handed me my key. 'And there's a message for you, madam. Came earlier today.'

I took the envelope from him, recognising James's hand-writing.

No doubt he was still at the funeral. I wondered how long it might last.

I would be glad when this day was over. The only bright spots were seeing a baby come into the world, and finding that the mangy dog on the road was still alive.

A bath and a change of clothing would be the best next step. I took the note back to my room, kicked off my shoes and slit open the envelope. James wrote, Dear Kate, Regarding the missing diamond, the constable has searched Presthope's house but there is no sign of the jewel. Presthope vehemently denies having seen it, much less stolen it. All the likely banks have been approached, in the hope that the maharajah saw fit to take a deposit box, but to no avail.

Fortunately, Mr Chana has recovered a goodly sum of the money Presthope acquired, but that is small consolation.

The main suspect in regard to the diamond remains Lydia Metcalfe. I attempted to have her trunks at the Dorchester examined. The manager refuses, insisting that she be present and a court order obtained. This is being processed. Since she is here and her trunks are there, the manager's intransigence will ensure no one gains access to her luggage in the meantime.

Please remain vigilant.

If you do not see me, it is because I am kept busy here with the new arrivals from Kapurthala, Rajpipla, Naw.a.n.ger, Kalathal and Baroda. His Grace and my superiors were keen that Maharajah Narayan be given a suitable send off but this has caused much disruption. Arrangements are proceeding smoothly. The astonishing Constable Brocksup managed to commandeer two obliging elephants from a pa.s.sing circus. The difficulty lies in accommodating the Indian royal families. Each family has brought its own team of cooks, each team expecting sole occupancy of a kitchen. Since there is only one kitchen at Bolton Hall, under the command of a very determined woman who flourishes a wooden spoon in a most aggressive manner, catering arrangements are posing an insurmountable difficulty.

Your affectionate cousin, James Unaccountably, his letter cheered me. Perhaps it was because I knew I would shortly have supper, served from a kitchen supervised by the excellent Mrs Sergeant.

Also, I had wondered who conjured the elephants. Arch enemy Brocksup's initiative matched his cunning and his contempt for me.

Reluctantly, I decided that James was on the right track in suspecting Lydia Metcalfe of stealing the diamond. She knew the combination of the safe in the prince's room; otherwise, he would not have had the surprise gift of emerald clover earrings, necklace and bracelet locked in the hotel safe.

I gathered up towel and sponge bag to head for the bathroom. Just as I was about to open the door, there was a tap on the window.