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Mark nodded solemnly.
“How awful,” her hands trembled and she felt tears well again. She blinked rapidly to keep them at bay and took comfort from his presence. “I will help in any way I can.”
“Excellent. Now I want you to slowly recount exactly what happened last night, Harriett. Don’t leave anything out.” He glanced at Isaac, pleased to note that he already had his pencil poised to take notes.
Harriett slowly went through everything. She seemed to talk for a long time. Babette only interjected occasionally with additional bits of information here and there. Tea was replenished several times, and nothing but crumbs were left of the Victoria sponge cake that Babette had baked only that morning, but nobody seemed to notice as the evening’s activities were recounted in minute detail.
“Go through the messages again,” Mark asked with a frown and drew out his own notebook. He wrote all of the messages down, before focusing on the ‘H is in danger’.
“Did it give any indication as to who the ‘H’ was?”
“I am afraid not. Several people got a bit annoyed with the vagueness of it. I don’t know if any of the messages have any relevance to what happened because Minerva Bobbington doesn’t have an H in her name and couldn’t take the message about the cat.”
Mark sighed deeply. His instincts warned him that there was something he had overlooked, if only he could figure out what. A strong, protective urge to keep the woman in the chair opposite safe shook him to the core and he briefly wondered if he really was the right person to lead this particular investigation. He was fairly certain that his impartiality, a valuable asset in his line of work, was skewed by his keen interest in Harriett. Unfortunately though, he really needed to have a valid reason to continue to see her, if only to make sure that she was safe.
“So, let’s go through this. Who at the meeting last night has an H in their name?”
“Madame Humphries, Gertrude Hepplethwaite, Harriet,” Isaac hesitated and looked at the woman seated next to Mark. “Sorry, Harriett. Hugo Montague and Miss Betty Haversham.”
“But if someone was trying to give a warning message to someone whom they knew was in danger, would they use their surname, or first name?” Harriett questioned with a frown.
“I have no idea but, until we can uncover a bit more information, I think it is important that you take extreme caution in everything you do, Harriett.” Mark stared hard across the table and watched her squirm uncomfortably in her seat as though she wanted to protest at his dictatorial manner. He knew that he was being rather heavy handed with her, and ignored Isaac’s discrete cough beside him. He felt compelled to do everything within his power to ensure that Harriett didn’t become the killer’s next victim and if it made him unprofessional so be it. “Don’t go out at night alone, in the dark. When you are at home, make sure that the door is locked and don’t answer it at night, especially if you are alone in the house.” He lifted a hand when Harriett and Babette both took a breath to speak and silenced them with a stern look. “Right now, we have a death that looks suspicious. Someone at that circle may have been the murderer, we just don’t know yet. Until we do, you cannot take any chances. Not even with people that you have known for some time. If there is one thing I have learned in my job, anybody is capable of murder, just not everybody does it.”
Harriett looked more than a little shaken, to the point that Mark felt a surge of sympathy for the fear he himself had just instilled in her. “I am sorry to be so blunt with you both, but I really do not want any more deaths in Tipton Hollow. Especially yours,” he added gently. He ignored the curious stares Isaac and Babette gave him as he moved around the table and knelt beside her chair. He could see the tears on her lashes and handed her his handkerchief. “I know last night’s events were traumatic for you, Harriett. I am sorry for my heavy handedness just now. Please forgive me. However, I need you to remain safe. Until we can discount the messages that were given last night as stuff and nonsense, I won’t ignore the fact that someone with the letter ‘H’ in their first name or surname was threatened and, as angry as that makes me, unfortunately that includes you. I promise you, Harriett, that Isaac and me will get to the bottom of this. We will try to keep you safe as safe as we can, but can’t be here all the time.” Mark glanced across at Babette and read the silent approval on her face. “It is important that you, and Babette, take every precaution possible. We will leave no stone unturned and will find out exactly what happened to Minerva but, until then, I will keep in regular contact with you. If there is anything at all you remember that you haven’t already told me, please feel free to contact me. If I am out and about, leave a message at the station and I will be here as soon as I can. If I am unavailable for whatever reason, Isaac will deal with it.”
“Of course I will,” Isaac rumbled. He looked cautiously at Mark and wondered what was behind his odd behaviour. He had worked with Mark for several years now and had never seen him this fervent; this protective with anyone before. A small voice starkly reminded him that they had never been involved in such a murder case like this in either Great Tipton or Tipton Hollow. Whatever reason Mark felt the need to reassure the young woman so fervently, Isaac could see no objection to it. She was clearly upset by what had happened and the implied threat to her own safety and, given Minerva’s murder in her own house, Mark was right to warn Harriett to remain safe.
“Thank you,” Harriett whispered. His warm palms on her chilled fingers were wonderfully steady and reassured her tremendously. She offered him a brave smile while she blinked the tears away. “I don’t know what has come over me. I am not usually like this.” It took every ounce of her willpower not to cry out when he rose to resume his seat and removed his hand from hers. The urge to lay her head on his shoulder and cry her eyes out was so strong that she physically trembled with the effort it took to remain in her seat.
“Now, I need to know if we can have the decanters, and the glasses, that were used last night. Doctor Woods needs them for analysis.”
“Of course,” Babette rose from her chair and glanced at Isaac. “In the kitchen, there is a box next to the cupboard. If you want to take that, it should just about hold everything. The sitting room has remained untouched. Neither Harriett nor I could bring ourselves to go in there and clean up this morning. You are quite welcome to take a look in there if you need to.”
Glad to have something practical to do rather than think morose thoughts, Harriet pushed out of the chair. She didn’t relish going back into the parlour but drew strength from the presence of the two policemen with her. Once inside though, the blanketed closeness of the heavily curtained room was almost claustrophobic.
“I know I should leave these closed as a mark of respect to poor Minerva, but I really have to open them,” Harriett gasped and stalked across the room to yank the curtains back and throw open the windows. She stood before the main window and took a moment and took in the wonderfully fresh air before she turned back to face the room. It wasn’t as bad as she had thought it would be. Although glasses were littered around
the room, it was still ostensibly her front parlour; the best room in the house.
“I don’t know about you, Babette, but I think we need to get rid of this rug.”
“Quite. Let’s roll it up while the men here collect the glassware, then we can leave the windows and curtains open for a while. I am sure that everyone will understand our break in protocol given the circumstances.”
“It is awkward if they don’t because right now that window is going to remain open,” Harriett declared firmly and knelt down to roll the heavy woollen rug into a neat roll. She jumped when Mark appeared beside her and hefted it onto his shoulder.
“Where to?”
The familiarity in which he jumped in to help out startled her and she felt a thrill of pleasure at his willingness to roll his sleeves up. Harriett offered him a smile and she motioned toward the door. “The back yard, I think, for now. We can arrange for it to be collected tomorrow.”
“Are you not going to the tea shop this afternoon?” Mark asked as he stood back to watch Harriett lock the back door once the rug was outside.
“No, I have given myself the day off. Charles will understand. I need to clear up here a bit and get some chores done. Last night was disconcerting to say the least, and that was before poor Minerva, well, you know.” She gave him a pointed look to which he nodded. “Then time seemed to stop and has moved so slowly since that I seem to have been at home doing chores all day yet have achieved nothing.”
“Is Minerva’s glass where she dropped it?”
Harriett frowned for a moment, acutely aware of him behind her as they returned to the parlour.
“It is, but there are no contents.” Isaac motioned to a dark brown stain on the floor that had been the sherry. He carefully picked up the glass with his clean handkerchief, wrapped it and placed it in the box with the rest of the glassware that had been neatly labelled.
