Charles Todd - A False Mirror

He ate slowly, stopping for stretches of time, as if his arms were too heavy to lift the spoon.

Rutledge, waiting by the window, fought his impatience. It was already dark outside, and he felt a pressing need to return to Hampton Regis.

Finally satisfied, Hamilton pushed away the tray. “You were going to tell me what happened to me. I must have fallen. It’s the only way I can account for what I see here.” He gestured with one hand to his body.

“You went for a walk. Down by the water, even though a sea mist was rolling in. And someone came up to speak to you.”

“I don’t think anyone did. I walk very early, before Felicity is awake.”

“You were found on the shingle, just above the tideline. Another half an hour, less even, and as badly hurt as you were, you’d have drowned.”

Hamilton seemed to listen, as if bringing back to mind the sounds of that morning. “Someone went down to the boats. I couldn’t see who it was.”

“He must have turned and come toward you.”

“If he did, I couldn’t tell. The mists muffle sound.”

“And then you were struck over the head, and went down.”

“I remember men’s voices.” He shook his head. “It’s hopeless.”

“But you left the surgery. Why?”

“Something was going to happen. Was Inspector Bennett there? I remember him telling me over and over again that Felicity was calling for me, and I had to wake up and help her.”

Bennett, trying to rouse him as Rutledge had done earlier.

“By the bye, do you have your keys with you?”

“Are they in my pocket? Look in the wardrobe.”

Rutledge had been sitting by the fire Dedham had laid in the room. Now he went to the wardrobe, his hands busy with pockets. “Yes, they’re here.” He quietly slipped the ring of keys into his own pocket, then said, “I must go. It’s late. Will you stay here, Hamilton, or come with me?”

Miranda Cole opened her mouth to protest-whether his departure or Hamilton’s, he didn’t know.

Hamilton said, “Where’s my wife? Shouldn’t she be here soon? I’ve tried to think what’s keeping her.”

“You asked Miss Cole not to tell anyone you were here. She has followed your instructions.”

“Did I? I couldn’t have meant Felicity.” He was tiring again, his shoulders slumped. “See if you can find out what’s keeping her, Rutledge.”

Five minutes later, Miss Cole was scolding Rutledge all the way down the stairs. “I thought you would stay with us. Stay here, at the house. I thought you wanted to find Matthew and help him.”

“There are promises to keep in Hampton Regis as well.”

He could see her uncertainty, her belief in Hamilton wavering as the night drew in. Or was she afraid of emotions that were reawakening in herself? He couldn’t tell.

Rutledge tried to find the words to reassure her, but he had no assurances to give. He thought about Casa Miranda, and Mallory there alone with Felicity Hamilton in that dark house. He knew where Hamilton was now, but what about preventing the disintegration of two people with nowhere else to go? What about a murderer still on the loose, if Hamilton hadn’t killed anyone?

“Lock him in his room and brace a chair under the knob. He’s exhausted, I don’t think he’ll wake up before I’m here at first light.”

“I shouldn’t have sent for you, I shouldn’t have heard what you had to tell me. It’s only made matters worse.”

“You told me you couldn’t believe Hamilton was a killer.”

She brushed her hair back with her hand. “I don’t. Not the Matthew I remember. But I see him there, the bruises, the confusion, the way he rambles. It’s not like him. There’s something wrong. I’m not sure I know this Matthew.”

“I don’t think you’ve anything to fear. You have no connection with Hampton Regis. And it was there that it all began.”

“Then take him with you. Please. I’ll provide you with blankets and cushions. What if he had nothing to do with the deaths, but someone else learns he’s here? Three women alone-what could Matthew do to help us?”

Rutledge stood there, reading the anguish in her face.

In the end, he found a telephone and left a message for Inspector Bennett that he was delayed.

And prayed that he’d made the right decision.

Hamilton had nightmares in the night. Rutledge, sleepless in the room next door, heard him and went in to sit with him.

He watched as Hamilton twisted and turned until his sheets were a tangled knot. As they tightened around him, he began to call out. Most of the words were unintelligible, but there was anger mixed with fear, and then Rutledge held himself rigid in the shadows as Hamilton reared up in his bed and called, “Who’s there?”

A garbled, one-sided conversation followed. And then Hamilton was scrambling out of his bed, struggling to rid himself of the sheets and a blanket. He stopped, his gaze on the? re. Before Rutledge could move, he’d picked up the small carpet in front of the hearth and was about to beat out the flames as if they threatened him. But even as the carpet was raised above his head, he froze and turned to stare directly at Rutledge, by the door.

Lowering the carpet, he said, quite clearly, “Stratton? What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

It took several minutes to make Hamilton understand who he was, but Rutledge, turning up the lamps, watched understanding dawn.

Hamilton looked down at the carpet he was still holding. “Good God, what’s this?”

“You were about to put out the fire.”

He blinked. “Was I? Yes, that’s right. Stratton said he’d burn me out if I didn’t burn my diaries.”

“When was this?”

“Before I left London to come to Hampton Regis with Felicity.”

“Did he mean it, do you think?”

Hamilton sat down in the nearest chair. “I think it was bravado. It was one of the reasons I chose a house backed up against the sea.”

“Did you know that Stephen Mallory was watching the house?”

“I thought at first it was Stratton. I was relieved that it was Mallory. But I knew Felicity had seen him at least once. And that rankled.”

“Were you afraid for your marriage?”

“Hardly that. But it was a snake in our Eden. I couldn’t go round to his cottage and thrash him. Or ask him to move away. It was a reminder, if you like, that Felicity had loved him once. I’d have given much not to remember that.”

“Did Mallory come down to the shingle and threaten you, earlier in the week?”

“I was alone. I told you.” He looked Rutledge up and down. “Who are you? You’ve asked a good many questions. Rather personal ones at that.”

“I’ve told you. My name is Rutledge. I’m also from Scotland Yard.”

“And a friend of Miranda’s.” He seemed to accept that. “I see now why she said she trusted you.”

“You couldn’t have been alone on the strand, Hamilton. You couldn’t have damaged yourself like this. Have you seen yourself in a mirror, man?”

“I didn’t say no one had attacked me. I said I saw no one there.”

“Why did you kill Margaret Granville?”

Hamilton raised his head. “Are you telling me that I did, and can’t remember that, either?”

“She’s dead. And you’re here. No one took you out of that surgery and murdered you and left your body in the cottage by the sea to wash away when the land crumbled.”

He studied his hands. “I’m not clear about getting out of there. Something was wrong. And I was worried, but I couldn’t remember what it was that needed to be done.”

“She walked into the room, and you saw her outlined against the light she’d left in the passage. You were coming out of sedation and muddled. Afraid of something but not really sure where you were or why. It could have been that her shadow was thrown against the wall, and you had no way of knowing it was the doctor’s wife.”