Page 40 of Lies in Little Sutherland
Constable Daniels allowed as how they hadn’t.The murderer must have taken it with him when he left.
“What about the note?Was it left behind at the scene?”
But no, likely not.Not with the wording the way it was.There was no need to mention Doctor Meadows’s death to anyone who was already looking at his corpse.
“It came through the mail slot,” Daniels said.His eyes flicked to the front door and the slit in it.“I picked it up and read it.I went to the infirmary.I found Doctor Meadows dead.I set a couple of constables to work on the crime scene.Then I motored up to Sutherland Hall to fetch you.”
“Well, I didn’t do it,” I said.“If I had killed him, I wouldn’t give the police a note implicating myself.Nor would Christopher.That would be stupid.”
Daniels didn’t respond to that, and I went on.“Where did it come from?Did someone write it in the infirmary?Did you check the doctor’s stationery or desk blotter?”
“We’re doing that,” Constable Daniels confirmed.
“Good.”I nodded decisively.“Because if it didn’t come from there, if the killer brought it with him, that makes it premeditated, you realize.That—” I indicated the note, “isn’t something someone writes and carries around with them unless they plan to use it.”
“Do you recognize the handwriting?”
I flicked another glance at it.“Who would recognize that?It’s all capital letters.It could have been written by anyone.”
It could have been written byme, with the pen in my left hand.Not that I mentioned that.
“Can you think of anyone who might want to accuse you of murder?”
There were plenty of people who might not quibble about having me out of the way for a while, with Laetitia and her mother at the top of the list.But to accuse me of murder, they would have had to have known that Doctor Meadows was dead, and how would anyone who hadn’t left the Hall all morning know that?
Constable Daniels hummed.“You may go, Miss Darling.But only back to Sutherland Hall.”
I opened my mouth to protest—I was meant to go to Salisbury and London today, or at least tomorrow—and he added, “Surely you understand that, after an accusation like this, we can’t have you leave.I don’t want to arrest you?—”
“You’d better not,” I said, “because you have no proof other than this note, and it’s pure speculation.”
“—but the Chief Constable would also have something to say about it if I let you motor away before the inquest.You’ll be required to give evidence, if nothing else.”
Yes, of course I would be.
“Fine,” I said.“I’ll stay for the inquest.As long as Uncle Harold is willing to continue to put us up at Sutherland Hall.”
He looked a bit surprised at that—perhaps he didn’t realize that Crispin’s father heartily despises me; I ought to have put him on the list of people who would be happy to have me out of the way—but he nodded.“You’re free to go, Miss Darling.If your cousin is waiting outside, let him know I’d like a word.”
I told him I would do, and headed for the door.
ChapterTen
My cousin was indeed waiting outside—bothof them, in fact—and I told the one I assumed Constable Daniels wanted to speak to that his presence was requested inside the constabulary.
“And don’t try to be cute, Christopher.You’re literally the only thing standing between me and a cell.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Christopher said as he unwound himself from the passenger seat.“May I have my jacket back?Yours is there.”
He indicated the backseat, where my coat was neatly folded on the cushion.I shrugged out of his tweed and handed it to him.
“Not that ridiculous.Have him show you the note.”
“Which note?”He twitched his sleeves down.
“The one accusing me of murder.”I snapped my own jacket open preparatory to putting it on.He moved to help me and I shooed him away.“Go, Christopher.If you waste any more time, he’ll think we’re conspiring.”
Christopher muttered something—it sounded like, “I’ll show him conspiring,”—but he went.I finished wrapping my jacket around myself before I crawled into the backseat and met Francis’s eyes in the mirror.
