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a fearsome doubt 207
shaved in cold water. No different from life in the trenches, when you
think about it. Although we were a damned sight more comfortable in
ours than you were in yours.
Which was true.
I ll leave the decanters here. For the pain, not to give you Dutch
courage for an escape. Does Mrs. Mayhew know where you are living?
Is she likely to come here searching for you?
Outraged, Hauser swore. Mein Gott, nein! No! He struggled to
get to his feet and failed. She and I have met, yes, but she knows noth-
ing about me. I have Dutch papers. She came into the church in
Marling, where I was trying to stay warm, out of the wind. She thought
I was praying. We talked about the greenery she was bringing for the
service that Wednesday evening. I d seen something much like it in the
gardens around this house, so I thought she might have come here. I was
worried. But she had found them on her own property. Then we talked
about the flatness of Holland, and the tulips. I met her again on the train
to London, quite by accident. We talked about the war, and books,
whatever we could think of. We have only talked.
But for a lonely woman, Rutledge thought, companionship was
precious, and a meeting of minds was but a stepping-stone to wishful
thinking. . . .
He left then, still unsure how far he could trust the German, and
drove back through the gates, toward Marling. Tired to the bone, he ig-
nored Hamish and concentrated on the road. Dairy cows were making
their way to pasture, streaming across just ahead of him, forcing him to
stop and wait. There was no one with them, but the cow at their head
knew her way as well as any farmer. Plodding with empty udders, they
ignored him, except for one young heifer who stared with dark and
friendly eyes, as if the motorcar was a curiosity.
Had he made the right decision about Hauser?
Dawn had broken as Rutledge drove into Marling. He felt grubby,
his beard rasping against the sweater under his chin. Leaving the mo-
torcar in its accustomed place behind the hotel, he went in through the
yard door and up to his room.
The bed was inviting, the room cool enough for sleep. But he
208 charles todd
shaved and bathed, then dressed for the day, noting that there was
blood on the cuffs of the shirt he d taken off. He washed it out himself,
and left it to dry by the window.
Breakfast was a hurried affair, a mere restoking of the fires of en-
ergy, and a second cup of tea gave him a second wind.
When Rutledge walked into the police station afterward, Sergeant
Burke said affably, Mrs. Mayhew was here, asking for you.
Alert, Rutledge said, And what did she want with me?
Something about urgently needing to find you. She looked as if she
hadn t slept. Anything wrong?
Burke was too sharp to be put off with excuses. Rutledge said, She
had an alarm in the night. Tell me, who might be walking down the
Marling road late? Besides a killer?
Scratching his jaw thoughtfully, Burke answered, Well, now,
there s not so much traffic as once there was. People being wary, eager
to be home as fast as they can. The gentry in motorcars and carriages
don t mind as much. When Rutledge didn t respond, he added, It s
hard to say, sir, without an hour to judge by.
After midnight.
Lord love you, sir, there s not much likelihood of anybody being on
the road then. Not with three dead already!
Hamish said, Aye, it may be the killing has stopped for that reason.
Rutledge responded silently, Or someone has discovered that
Jimsy Ridger is dead.
To Burke he said, If you hear any news of trouble, get in touch with
me as soon as you can.
That I will, sir, but there s no report so far, Burke answered
doubtfully.
Hamish agreed. Aye, who ll tell the police he stabbed a man, even
out of fear for his own life?
Elizabeth Mayhew was in her sitting room, her eyes red with
lack of sleep and tears.
Where is he? She got up from the comfortable chair by the fire,
looking forlorn and far younger than her years.
a fearsome doubt 209
Safe for the moment. Rutledge had sat in this room with Richard
and Elizabeth many times. The bookshelves, the hearth, the table
where they d taken their tea when there were no guests it was all
sadly familiar. The carpet was worn in one corner where, long before
the war, one of the young dogs had chewed at it. There was a photo-
graph on the east wall that he himself had taken of the house, and
Elizabeth had framed. Familiar . . .
I thought you might have turned She stopped. Is he at Dr.
Pugh s surgery? I couldn t think of an excuse to call there.
He s not at the surgery, nor is he in a cell at the police station. You
shouldn t concern yourself with this man
She flushed with anger. I haven t concerned myself with
this man
But before she could rashly commit herself to something she would
regret, Rutledge interrupted brusquely. He s safe, Elizabeth. For the
time being. I haven t decided what to do about him. But you should un-
derstand that he s a suspect
Nonsense! He s staying in a hotel in Rochester. They ll vouch for
him there, and tell you he s a respected Dutch citizen here on personal
business.
Is that what he s told you?
She began to pace the floor. Rutledge silently remained on his feet
as well. Elizabeth turned on him. You re trying to make me believe
that such a man could be guilty of murder! I won t listen. If you turn
him in to Inspector Dowling, I shall swear that he was with me when
the murders occurred [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl freetocraft.keep.pl
a fearsome doubt 207
shaved in cold water. No different from life in the trenches, when you
think about it. Although we were a damned sight more comfortable in
ours than you were in yours.
Which was true.
I ll leave the decanters here. For the pain, not to give you Dutch
courage for an escape. Does Mrs. Mayhew know where you are living?
Is she likely to come here searching for you?
Outraged, Hauser swore. Mein Gott, nein! No! He struggled to
get to his feet and failed. She and I have met, yes, but she knows noth-
ing about me. I have Dutch papers. She came into the church in
Marling, where I was trying to stay warm, out of the wind. She thought
I was praying. We talked about the greenery she was bringing for the
service that Wednesday evening. I d seen something much like it in the
gardens around this house, so I thought she might have come here. I was
worried. But she had found them on her own property. Then we talked
about the flatness of Holland, and the tulips. I met her again on the train
to London, quite by accident. We talked about the war, and books,
whatever we could think of. We have only talked.
But for a lonely woman, Rutledge thought, companionship was
precious, and a meeting of minds was but a stepping-stone to wishful
thinking. . . .
He left then, still unsure how far he could trust the German, and
drove back through the gates, toward Marling. Tired to the bone, he ig-
nored Hamish and concentrated on the road. Dairy cows were making
their way to pasture, streaming across just ahead of him, forcing him to
stop and wait. There was no one with them, but the cow at their head
knew her way as well as any farmer. Plodding with empty udders, they
ignored him, except for one young heifer who stared with dark and
friendly eyes, as if the motorcar was a curiosity.
Had he made the right decision about Hauser?
Dawn had broken as Rutledge drove into Marling. He felt grubby,
his beard rasping against the sweater under his chin. Leaving the mo-
torcar in its accustomed place behind the hotel, he went in through the
yard door and up to his room.
The bed was inviting, the room cool enough for sleep. But he
208 charles todd
shaved and bathed, then dressed for the day, noting that there was
blood on the cuffs of the shirt he d taken off. He washed it out himself,
and left it to dry by the window.
Breakfast was a hurried affair, a mere restoking of the fires of en-
ergy, and a second cup of tea gave him a second wind.
When Rutledge walked into the police station afterward, Sergeant
Burke said affably, Mrs. Mayhew was here, asking for you.
Alert, Rutledge said, And what did she want with me?
Something about urgently needing to find you. She looked as if she
hadn t slept. Anything wrong?
Burke was too sharp to be put off with excuses. Rutledge said, She
had an alarm in the night. Tell me, who might be walking down the
Marling road late? Besides a killer?
Scratching his jaw thoughtfully, Burke answered, Well, now,
there s not so much traffic as once there was. People being wary, eager
to be home as fast as they can. The gentry in motorcars and carriages
don t mind as much. When Rutledge didn t respond, he added, It s
hard to say, sir, without an hour to judge by.
After midnight.
Lord love you, sir, there s not much likelihood of anybody being on
the road then. Not with three dead already!
Hamish said, Aye, it may be the killing has stopped for that reason.
Rutledge responded silently, Or someone has discovered that
Jimsy Ridger is dead.
To Burke he said, If you hear any news of trouble, get in touch with
me as soon as you can.
That I will, sir, but there s no report so far, Burke answered
doubtfully.
Hamish agreed. Aye, who ll tell the police he stabbed a man, even
out of fear for his own life?
Elizabeth Mayhew was in her sitting room, her eyes red with
lack of sleep and tears.
Where is he? She got up from the comfortable chair by the fire,
looking forlorn and far younger than her years.
a fearsome doubt 209
Safe for the moment. Rutledge had sat in this room with Richard
and Elizabeth many times. The bookshelves, the hearth, the table
where they d taken their tea when there were no guests it was all
sadly familiar. The carpet was worn in one corner where, long before
the war, one of the young dogs had chewed at it. There was a photo-
graph on the east wall that he himself had taken of the house, and
Elizabeth had framed. Familiar . . .
I thought you might have turned She stopped. Is he at Dr.
Pugh s surgery? I couldn t think of an excuse to call there.
He s not at the surgery, nor is he in a cell at the police station. You
shouldn t concern yourself with this man
She flushed with anger. I haven t concerned myself with
this man
But before she could rashly commit herself to something she would
regret, Rutledge interrupted brusquely. He s safe, Elizabeth. For the
time being. I haven t decided what to do about him. But you should un-
derstand that he s a suspect
Nonsense! He s staying in a hotel in Rochester. They ll vouch for
him there, and tell you he s a respected Dutch citizen here on personal
business.
Is that what he s told you?
She began to pace the floor. Rutledge silently remained on his feet
as well. Elizabeth turned on him. You re trying to make me believe
that such a man could be guilty of murder! I won t listen. If you turn
him in to Inspector Dowling, I shall swear that he was with me when
the murders occurred [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]