Charles Todd - Proof of Guilt

“Quite true.”

“Anything more?”

“This man Bob Rawlings, who also works for Mrs. Bennett, could well have had a family connection who has never been in prison, but he has associates who have. Any one of them could have given him the name of someone willing to do a quiet murder for a fee. Which one of them we have no way of guessing. If you ask me, Diaz has been very clever.”

“He would have to be, to keep his freedom.”

“Tell me about the blood.”

Rutledge said, “It’s the tutor’s, MacFarland, the witness to Diaz’s attack on Howard French. He’ll survive. If I hadn’t got there when I did, he would likely have been finished off. And the only person MacFarland’s death could benefit is Diaz. There’s been another discovery—a body washed ashore close by Dungeness Light. It could be Traynor’s. If it is, then he was killed onboard the ship bringing him back from Madeira. Who could have arranged that? Gooding? French? Diaz?”

Belford listened quietly, then said, “Is the Yard still convinced that the clerk, Gooding, is their man?” He was watching Rutledge closely.

Rutledge finished his whisky and set it aside. “Gooding is the consummate senior clerk. Why should he think he could take over the firm by killing the senior partners? It’s not ambition, it’s folly. As for his granddaughter, he worked with Lewis French, and he would have been more inclined to believe she was well out of the engagement. What’s more, he tried to shoot himself after writing that confession. No, I’m not convinced that Gooding is guilty. French could have had Traynor killed. But who killed French? His sister, in a fit of anger? But that doesn’t explain our extra body here in Chelsea.”

“There’s Gooding’s granddaughter. The dark horse.”

“Her pride was hurt when the engagement was ended. Murder? That’s not likely. Still, I rather think a good K.C. will get a conviction. How could he not? Miss French is not equipped by temperament or training to take over the firm and run it successfully. Gooding could have run it for her as his personal fiefdom, and she would have been content to be the titular head, satisfied with money and the pretense of power.”

“You’re sure no one else remembers Diaz coming to the French house?”

“There was the maid and the boy, Lewis. But she went at once for the constable, and Lewis was thought to have had a bad dream, having looked out the window as Diaz was being taken away. Diaz probably never saw him. He only dealt with the three men.”

“You’ll never be able to prove this, you know. I have some experience in these matters. All you can possibly do is try to keep Gooding out of the hands of the hangman. Even life in prison offers him a chance to be cleared.”

Rutledge told Belford about his experiment with the photograph. “But the man’s given his statement. It’s in the record,” he ended.

Belford got to his feet and offered Rutledge another whisky, but he shook his head.

“Thank you, but I’m too tired.”

Belford set their glasses back on the silver tray and went to the window.

“There’s only one solution I can see, to draw Diaz out into the open.”

“I don’t think it can be done. He’s been too careful.”

“Someone took a shot at you, you said?”

“Yes. I thought at the time that MacFarland’s assailant might still be waiting to finish what he had begun, but I didn’t expect whoever it was to fire at me. A stone or some other blunt object was used on the tutor. He could hardly fire at MacFarland without half of St. Hilary taking note.”

“Do you trust this Dr. Townsend?”

Rutledge considered that. “As a doctor, yes. I’m not sure whether or not I trust him in other directions. What’s in your mind? To let Diaz think MacFarland is recovering and about to talk? That sets him up for another attempt. And I have reason to believe that Townsend wouldn’t go along with that possibility. Not in his surgery. The man’s cottage is too hard to watch. There are too many ways to approach it without being seen.”

“Too bad. It would have worked, I think.”

“There’s another way. I think Dr. Townsend would agree to let it be known that MacFarland is going to recover but the damage to his brain is so severe, he will never be the same man he was. That will keep him safe. But I’ve been to the Bennett house, I suspect Diaz, and he’s well aware of it. He will have to do something about me eventually, whether he likes it or not. And it will have to be carefully done, in no way connected with French or Gooding or the past.”

“It’s dangerous to be the goat set out for the tiger,” Belford warned. “It will be easier to protect MacFarland in Dr. Townsend’s surgery than you, out in the street, as it were. An easy target.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“I admire your courage. I can’t help but wonder why you are willing.”

Rutledge thought he knew why. But he wasn’t about to give Belford an answer.

Chapter Twenty-one

The next morning, Rutledge bearded the lion in his den, asking to speak to Markham as soon as he arrived at the Yard.

The Acting Chief Superintendent said before Rutledge was quite through the door, “I hope you have something to show for your absence.”

“A man was attacked in St. Hilary. He has something to do with the Gooding case.”

“I told you that Gooding’s granddaughter was involved in this business. It was just a matter of time before we had proof.”

“She had no reason to attack this man. He was a tutor to Michael and Lewis French.”

“She doesn’t need a reason. A new murder casts doubt on her grandfather’s guilt. Any victim would do.”

“I can see that. It is one answer, but not the only one.”

“Still bothered by that Portuguese fellow? He’s an old man, Rutledge, he couldn’t have killed two men on his own. I looked him up. He’s seventy if he’s a day.”

“Closer to sixty-two. French’s motorcar was found in the quarry not far from where he lives.”

“Coincidence. Look, he’d have had to take the train to London, then another to Essex, to kill Lewis French. Someone in the Bennett household would have known if he went missing for several days, and they’d have raised the alarm. Mrs. Bennett has been allowed to take in those men in her care, and she can’t afford to ignore it if one of them is absent without a damned good reason.”

“I rather think he’s hired someone to do the killing for him.”

“Why are you dragging your heels, Rutledge? Go collect the granddaughter and bring her in. Let the lawyers get at the bottom of who is guilty and who is not. We’ve made a case, it’s sound enough to bring to trial, and I don’t see the need to spend any more of the Yard’s time on wild speculation.”

It was dismissal. Rutledge got up from his chair and walked toward the door.

Markham’s voice stopped him.

“Is he likely to live, this tutor? Will he be able to testify?”

“The doctor couldn’t tell me yesterday. It was too soon.”

“Then find out while you’re there.”

The hardheaded Yorkshireman having second thoughts?

Rutledge turned. “I’ll ring you from the inn when I’ve seen him.”

Markham nodded, and Rutledge went out into the passage looking for Gibson.

The sergeant was in with Inspector Billings.

Rutledge left a message on his desk that he was leaving directly for Essex and would call as soon as he could.

Walking out of the Yard, he made a decision and went first to Hayes and Hayes, solicitors to the French family.

He had to wait nearly half an hour—the elder Mr. Hayes was with another client. Impatient, Rutledge sat in one of the leather chairs in Reception and listened to Hamish’s tirade in his ear.