Page 27 of Marriage and Murder
“And once we’ve checked with all those in the village”—Penelope brightened—“we can head to Salisbury.”
Barnaby and Stokes both smiled at her fondly.
Stokes said, “You really think the answer lies there, don’t you?”
“I’m sure,” Penelope declared, “that whatever caused Viola such emotional turmoil is more or less the root cause of her murder. As far as we know, that was the only major upheaval in her relatively humdrum life, and what’s more, it occurred immediately prior to her murder.”
Barnaby studied his wife. “Do you think that whatever she learned meant she had to be silenced before she told anyone else?”
Penelope’s dark eyes widened. “I hadn’t followed the thought to that conclusion, but it is one possible implication, isn’t it?” After two seconds of considering the prospect, she looked at Stokes. “Perhaps Constable Price should remain guarding Madeline Huntingdon until we have this murderer by the heels.”
Stokes’s expression hardened. “That’s an excellent idea.”
The following morning, they left Sergeant O’Donnell and Connor, the Adairs’ groom, to hold the fort at the inn, whileConstable Morgan went with them, riding on the carriage’s box seat beside the coachman, Phelps.
As the coach rumbled along the country lanes, Stokes observed, “It’s a pity there’s no village pub in Ashmore to which we can send Morgan for information. His talents are wasted in a place like this.”
The baby-faced Morgan was well known for teasing all sorts of useful information from serving girls and patrons alike. Barnaby smiled in agreement, and Penelope said, “Morgan, and Connor, too, will be of more use to us in Salisbury. I suspect we’ll have quite a bit of searching to do to determine where Viola went last Wednesday.”
Stokes grimaced. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to that. We’ll be casting about, searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.”
They rattled around a corner, and as the carriage righted, Penelope glanced out of the window beside her. The northernmost cottages of Ashmore rolled past, then the carriage slowed and turned again, and the pond and green were beside them. Seconds later, Phelps drew the carriage to a halt beside the hedge of Lavender Cottage.
Stokes opened the door and stepped out, but Barnaby and Penelope remained seated. They were only stopping to collect Constable Price, so he could assist them in their interviews with the Gilroys, and leave Morgan in his place so that Madeline Huntingdon continued to be suitably guarded.
As Stokes approached the gate and Morgan jumped down from the box seat, Constable Price, neat and precise in his uniform with his cap under his arm, came briskly down the path from the front door. Smiling with eagerness, he halted before the gate and saluted Stokes.
His lips not quite straight, Stokes acknowledged Price with a nod.
Price lowered his hand. “All quiet here, Inspector. No dramas, and nothing to report.”
“Good.” Stokes started to turn toward Morgan, but Price drew out a folded sheet and offered it.
“Miss Madeline asked me to give this to you, sir. It’s a sketch of the bracelet that’s gone missing.”
“Ah. Thank you.” Stokes took the sheet and unfolded it. After a cursory glance, he stepped back to the carriage and, through the open door, handed the sheet to Penelope.
She took it and immediately fell to studying the drawing, with Barnaby looking over her shoulder.
Meanwhile, Stokes returned to Morgan and Price. “We need to interview the Gilroys, and for that, Price, we need you with us.” Stokes nodded to Morgan. “Constable Morgan will relieve you here.”
Stokes paused, then addressing both constables, went on, “We’ve realized it’s possible Viola Huntingdon was murdered because of something she learned during her visit to Salisbury last Wednesday. If so, then the murderer might assume she could have written of the matter to her sister, and therefore, he needs to silence Madeline Huntingdon as well. Consequently, until we have our murderer by the heels, we’ll be maintaining a round-the-clock guard on Miss Huntingdon.”
Price straightened. “Yes, sir.” His expression had sobered, as had Morgan’s.
Focusing on Morgan, Stokes added, “Don’t leave Miss Huntingdon unattended and out of your sight for any reason whatsoever. We’ll be back to fetch you after we’ve finished our interviews with the locals.”
Morgan saluted. “Yes, guv.”
Penelope folded the sketch and tucked it into her reticule as Stokes returned to the carriage with Price, and Morgan walked up the path and ducked through the cottage’s front door.
Stokes paused beside the open carriage door, glanced at Price, and tipped his head toward the box seat. “Climb up and direct Phelps to the Gilroy cottage. I assume it’s nearby?”
Eagerly making for the box seat, Price replied, “Yes, sir. It’s back past the pond and along the High Street, then around the next corner in Halfpenny Lane.”
Stokes nodded and rejoined Penelope and Barnaby in the carriage. As soon as the door was shut, Phelps expertly turned the carriage, making a neat job of it despite the narrowness of the lane. Then they were off, rolling past the pond and around to the south on High Street. They passed the church and the rectory, then the carriage turned left again, this time into a very narrow, more rutted lane.
Luckily, the Gilroys’ cottage was, as Price had said, just around the corner.
