Charles Todd - A False Mirror

“Yes, yes, it would be just like her. I didn’t know her well, but well enough to recognize her sense of duty.” She smiled sadly. “She hadn’t wanted to be a nurse, you know. She didn’t have the stomach for it. She told me as much when Dr. Granville sent her round with flowers the day I was brought home from hospital. She worked with him simply because she liked to be close to him. How is he coping? He’ll blame himself, you know. I don’t want to think about what he must be feeling. I’ve known loss myself.”

“Did you know Dr. Granville well, before your accident?”

“We met socially from time to time. He’s a fine doctor, I can tell you that. I’ve never really cared for him as a person, I don’t know why. That’s ungrateful, I know, I have no business even saying such a thing. He spent hours with me after my accident and did everything he could to see that I walked again, and without a limp. I’ve told you. But he was-I don’t know-always trying to impress me with all he’d done for me, as if he wanted me to know the full extent of the debt I owed him. And I did know it. But I didn’t enjoy his company the way I enjoyed Matthew’s,” she ended ruefully. “I tried not to let him see how I felt. It would have been unkind. And he was married. There’s that as well.”

Hamilton had been married, but she seemed to view that differently.

After a moment she shook her head. “Somehow I’m not ready to believe Matthew is dead. I-it just seems so ruthless, to kill a helpless man, much less an innocent woman.”

“When we’ve learned why Hamilton was attacked in the first place, we’ll be able to answer that. The urgent question just now is why anyone would have wanted to take Matthew Hamilton away. The simplest solution is that he’s dead now, before he can speak to the police.”

He had told Mallory that Matthew had come to his senses briefly. Had that been an error in judgment?

“Well, it won’t help Felicity in her predicament, of course. It won’t help that man Mallory to prove he isn’t guilty of assault. And even if Mr. Mallory struck Matthew down, it was still far short of murder in the eyes of the law. He should have given himself up.”

Hamish was pointing out that she had shown less sympathy for Felicity’s loss than she had for Dr. Granville’s.

Rutledge said, “What do you know about Mallory? Could someone have killed Hamilton to revenge himself on Mallory? To make sure he was tried for murder and hanged?”

“I don’t think I’ve met Mr. Mallory more than once or twice. I know very little about him, except for the whispers I’ve heard.” She considered for a moment how to answer him. “I’m sure Inspector Bennett would love nothing better than to see the man in custody-the woman who does my washing gossips about the trial he’s been to his wife over that injury to his foot-but you aren’t suggesting he’d prefer to watch Mallory hang? That’s rather far-fetched.”

Rutledge smiled grimly. “And so we’re back to the beginning, and why Hamilton was so severely beaten.”

Miss Esterley regarded him with interest. “You are a devious man, aren’t you?” she asked.

“If it wasn’t Mallory who attacked him, then who found him walking that morning and quarreled with him? Who was disappointed in something he said? Who was afraid of something he might do? Who lashed out in such blind fury that before either of them quite realized what had happened, Hamilton was lying there bleeding and unconscious?”

She shivered, her gaze lifting to the windows, as if she could see beyond the walls and into the past. “You make it so-vivid. Personal.”

“A beating is personal.”

Miss Esterley answered slowly. “I don’t know of anyone who was afraid of Matthew. After all, he’d only just come to live here, he hardly knew us, and most certainly couldn’t know our family skeletons. As for disappointment, at a dinner party not a fortnight ago, I overheard Miss Trining tell him that she was very disappointed that he hadn’t chosen to stand for Parliament. I’d never known him to express any interest in that direction-in fact, he seemed to be rather glad to be out of the public eye. And I most certainly can’t picture Miss Trining taking a cane to him for refusing to consider a political future. But then Miss Trining sees duty in a different light from the rest of us. And as for someone being angry with him, we’ve come full circle again to Mr. Mallory.”

“Was Miss Trining ambitious for herself? Or for Hampton Regis as the home of a sitting MP?”

“I don’t believe it had anything to do with ambition on her part. It’s more an abhorrence of wasted potential.”

Hamish stirred, and Rutledge picked up the thought.

Wasted potential…

If Miss Trining had discovered Hamilton’s penchant for dealing with grave robbers, she might have felt more than disappointment-she might have been furious with him for not being the man she’d believed he was.

But surely even if her temper had got the best of her on the strand, she would have owned up to her actions and taken full responsibility for them. Duty carried with it responsibility.

Before he left, Rutledge put one final question to Miss Esterley.

“Do you happen to know Mrs. Reston’s maiden name?”

“Her maiden name? No, I don’t believe I do. Is it important?”

“I’ve been told that she came from a very good family and might have known Hamilton in the years before he went abroad.”

“Indeed? If that’s true, I never heard anyone bring it up. And I’m sure it would have become known. When the Hamiltons arrived in Hampton Regis, everyone was scrambling for an introduction. Mrs. Reston would have been exceedingly popular, if she’d had any sort of connection. I’ve told you, I was the first to make his acquaintance, because of my accident. I know how quickly people suddenly discovered how very much they enjoyed my company.” It was said wryly, even with a touch of bitterness.

But it was possible that Henrietta Reston had had her own reasons to keep the past in the past. And her relationship with Hamilton buried there.

It was not likely in a village the size of Hampton Regis that Rutledge could avoid the newcomer, Stratton, for long if the man set out in search of him. He had only to ask the desk clerk for a description of the motorcar and he would soon track it down. But as Rutledge left Miss Esterley, he was pleased not to find Stratton leaning against the wing, waiting for him.

Rutledge went again to the rectory to assure himself that Bennett had spoken to Mr. Putnam about the larder at Casa Miranda.

Bennett had sent someone round, Putnam told him in a low voice. And he was to be driven up to the Hamiltons’ door in a greengrocer’s cart at a quarter past three.

“Dr. Granville is asleep finally, and I hesitated to leave him alone just now. But I’ll only be there long enough to help hand in the choices that Mrs. Bennett is making. I can only hope they’re to Mrs. Hamilton’s liking.”

Rutledge smiled in spite of himself. “Quite.”

“That’s a volatile situation, you know, with Mr. Mallory. I have prayed to find a way to resolve it. I’m sure he wants to find a resolution as well. But so far there’s been no clear answer.”

“There will be none, until we discover who tried to kill Hamilton.”

“Yes, sadly, it’s for the law, isn’t it, to bring us safely through. I can only do my best to keep peace where it is needed most. And that’s here for the moment.”

“Thank you for agreeing to help.”

“Not at all. You will keep me informed, won’t you? I can’t be everywhere, and of late I seem to have been in all the wrong places.” It was said ruefully but with conviction. “I should have foreseen something. If I had known my flock as I so often pride myself I do, I should have sensed the injuries that were driving people to desperate measures. Whatever it was that has led us to this.”