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“Just look after your reputation, Isaac. There is no hope for me now.” Tuppence smiled bravely at him to try to show him that she would be all right but had to turn away because the tears started to flow again.
Isaac studied the fine tremor in her shoulders through the bars and knew she was crying again. The urge to reach out and touch her was strong, but he knew that she would reject his touch this time. It seemed unfair to have to leave her, but he knew he should. He needed to speak with Mark’s boss about why he was so adamant that Tuppence faced justice for a crime she most definitely hadn’t committed. More importantly, he had to send word to his uncle to get here as fast as humanly possible.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tuppence jerked when she heard the rapid clip of heels marching toward her again. She quaked in her boots because she knew that whoever had come to see her this time was bringing her bad news. She hated the thought of Isaac returning because it hurt to see him when she was so defeated by her situation. She didn’t think she could bear to even talk to Mark right now either. His determination to think the worst of her was horrifying as was the thought that she was going to see Harriett appear before the cell bars at any moment.
“Come with me, miss. It seems that you have someone fighting your corner,” the Duty Sergeant muttered as he unlocked the door and waved her out of the cell.
“Pardon?” Tuppence whispered. She felt weak in many ways, emotionally, physically, mentally. Consequently, she didn’t immediately move. It took her a moment to realise that he wanted her to leave.
“Come with me.” Strangely, the man didn’t bother to shackle her as he led the way through the cells and the Police Station, to a rather splendid office in the far-right corner of the building.
“Chief Inspector Davies wants to see you,” the Duty Sergeant informed her. He studied her suspiciously as he held the door open for her to enter the room as if curious to know why the boss of Great Tipton Police would want to speak to a criminal like her.
Once she was inside the large office, the Duty Sergeant closed the door and took up position before it, effectively blocking her escape. Tuppence studied the man behind the desk. As a lifelong detective Davies’ eyes held a weary wisdom that warned her that he could spot a fool from a mile away. Tuppence didn’t doubt that if any prisoner had secrets, he would find them. With his heavy jowls, and bulldog eyes, there was a hint of basset hound about him that gave him a somewhat sleepy expression, but the dark orbs of his eyes were sharp.
And trained on me.
“Take a seat,” he murmured, waving to a chair.
Tuppence edged closer and plonked her bottom onto the chair mostly because she was shaking so badly, she didn’t have the ability to lower herself into it with any dignity. One minute ticked by, then two, then three. The only noise to break the silence of the room was the steady click, click, click, of the clock on the mantle and the scratching of the man’s pen on the paper he was writing on. In the deeper recesses of the busy police station, someone was shouting indistinctly while doors closed, and footsteps scurried this way and that. It seemed an age before the Chief Inspector was done with his writing and peered over the top of his spectacles at her.
“It seems that you have friends in high places,” he began, interlacing his pudgy fingers and resting his hands on the paper he had just been writing on.
Tuppence didn’t speak. She wasn’t at all sure what he expected her to say.
“You are free to go but on one or two conditions,” Chief Inspector Davies announced. “Firstly, you are still under suspicion of being responsible for the murder of Mr Lewis, so you are not to leave the county, or even Tipton Hollow. Is that clear?”
Tuppence, who had previously thought she couldn’t cry any more tears, suddenly wanted to cry again. She wanted to fall to the floor, rest her aching head on the ground, and wail her heart out with relief. Instead, she nodded her head jerkily.
“Secondly, we are investigating the murder, and will find out who killed Mr Lewis.” That was accompanied by a rather pointed look in Tuppence’s direction. “I understand that you have given a witness statement to my Sergeant?”
Tuppence nodded.
“And that you had cause to be threatened latel
y by a Mr Angus Richmond, is that correct?”
Tuppence wondered if the man was an amateur judge but nodded.
“Well, my men will investigate the truth of your claims. We have received the report from the Coroner on the cause of Mr Lewis’s death and understand that there are doubts as to whether you could have killed him. For now, you are free to go but, like I have said, you must reside in Tipton Hollow and not leave it. Further, I insist that you remain under the protection of Lord Aldridge.”
“Pardon?” Tuppence leaned forward to hear him properly. She was sure she had just misheard what he had said.
Mr Davies leant across his desk and pinned her with a narrowed glare, but for the first time since she had entered the office, his attitude toward her softened. “Miss, if someone has killed Mr Lewis and he meant to kill you, he will return to Hilltop Farm. You are not safe living up there by yourself until we can catch whoever killed Mr Lewis, whoever that might be. Ergo, until we can find proper evidence to support a conviction, of you or anybody else, you must reside at Lord Aldridge’s house. He has assured me that he can vouch for your safety and will ensure that you don’t leave the county for any reason. Moreover, you will be safe there because there are plenty of staff to guard the property, and you.”
Tuppence was tempted to refuse to go. The thought of living at Aldridge Manor was horrifying because she didn’t belong, even if his mother did welcome her, which Tuppence doubted would ever happen. But the alternative was to stay in the police cell while the investigation was carried out, and that was simply too horrifying to contemplate.
“Well?” the Chief Inspector demanded when she didn’t speak.
“I have no choice, do I?” Tuppence whispered.
Mr Davies pursed his lips and slowly shook his head. To her surprise, he suddenly picked up the paper he had been writing on and held it out to a man who was sitting in the corner of the room. The dapperly dressed gentleman stood up and accepted the paper with a courteous nod before turning to glare at the Duty Sergeant, who promptly opened the door.
“Well, come on then. Let’s get out of here.” The dapperly dressed gentleman waved Tuppence toward the door but threw Mr Davies one last rather pointed look as he growled: “Until you can gather proper evidence, don’t trouble my client with false accusations of murder again. We will consider suiting for unnecessary damage to her reputation should you try it.”
With the Chief Inspector put firmly in his place, the gentleman waved Tuppence toward the door again. “Come with me, miss,” he murmured, before stalking through the door and disappearing down the hallway.
