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“Well, we shall let the Barrister deal with all of that,” Gertrude announced with a dismissive sniff. “Reginald, I have put you in your usual suite. Feel free to go and help yourself. Harman!” A dapperly dressed butler immediately stepped out of the shadows. “Take Sir Reginald’s luggage upstairs, will you? Oh, and get Molly to prepare a bath for Miss Smethurst. She is going to dine with us later, but for now she needs a warm bath, and a tray of food - in the blue room, I think.”
Tuppence watched Sir Reginald march up the stairs without a backward look and felt as if she was being abandoned. She left lost, alone in a world in which she didn’t belong. In the wake of this rather indominable woman, Tuppence felt a little overwhelmed; small and insignificant, and had felt safer with Sir Reginald beside her.
“Now, I do believe that my son has gone to the farm to fetch that dog of yours. He will be back shortly. Meantime, we must find you something to change into. I do hope he has the foresight to bring you a change of clothing. If not, I will have one of the maids go into the attic. I am sure we have something up there that will fit you.”
“Thank you,” Tuppence whispered in a voice that was thick with emotion. She hadn’t expected this kind of practical reception, especially from Isaac’s mother.
“Well, go on then,” Gertrude commanded, waving imperiously toward the stairs as if waving away a pestering wasp. “Follow Molly upstairs. She will show you to your room and see to your bath. We dine at seven. Harman will strike the gong. Don’t be late.” With that, Gertrude disappeared through one of the doors lining the hallway and left Tuppence to follow a bemused maid upstairs.
“Well, well, well,” Isaac murmured, bending down to peer at the lock on the farmhouse’s front door a little more closely.
“Someone has definitely jimmied it, sir,” Balders, one of his labourers, muttered. He stepped back to study the window beside the door. “From the scratches on this paint work, it looks like they tried to get in here as well, but the shutters must have blocked them.”
“They probably realised that getting in through the door was a better option.” Isaac shuddered at the thought that Tuppence might have been inside the house alone when the intruder had gotten in. His thoughts turned to the man she claimed had chased her across the yard, and the shadows he had seen darting about the place.
“It points to the intruder having come here at night, sir,” Balders suggested. “I mean, we can see the shutters closed because it is daytime, but at night, up here and without a light, the intruder might not have been able to see that the shutters were closed until he had the window up and found that he still couldn’t get in.”
“Indeed,” Isaac mused, impressed with the man’s logic. “I think you are right, Balders.”
“Do you think we should go in, sir?” Balders asked worriedly, casting a wary glance around the yard.
Several of his men were al
ready moving cattle into the field behind the barn in preparation for moving them across to Chester land. Baxter was helping and currently lying on his belly staring steadily at the cattle in silent warning while he waited for orders. With the dog happily working now, Isaac turned his attention to the house.
He carefully nudged the door open and stepped into the frigid property. It was so cold inside that his breath immediately fogged out before him, but despite the unwelcoming atmosphere, Isaac ventured deeper into the building. The first thing that struck him was that it felt like he was stepping back in time. He didn’t doubt that the place hadn’t been decorated in an age. While clean, the ornaments, sparse furniture, the rather amateurish paintings on the wall were all well-worn and aged and had obviously been passed down through the generations of family who had lived in the house.
“Someone has rummaged through the cupboards,” Balders announced, pointing to one of the half-closed drawers of a dresser in an otherwise neat and orderly room.
Several times spilled haphazardly over the top of the drawer which had been shoved closed above a half-open cupboard door. Inside the dresser, the contents were a mess and appeared to have been quickly rifled through by someone who had been in a hurry.
Balders looked worried. “Do we notify the police?”
“The police think Tuppence is guilty.” As far as Isaac was concerned, he couldn’t have seen anything more welcome than this break-in because it was physical proof that Tuppence was being targeted by somebody. “Nobody would have a need to either break into their own house or rifle through their own property like this. This was most probably done by the intruder I saw up here the other night.”
“But when?” Balders asked. “I mean, she was arrested at dawn this morning, right?”
“Right.”
“So that means that the killer must have broken in here sometime today, right?”
“Right.” Isaac scratched his head. “So, the killer must have watched Mark drag Tuppence off to jail thinking that he had arrested Mr Lewis’s killer. The intruder then used the time when everyone was heading home to break in here.”
“But that doesn’t explain why the man tried to break in through the window with the shutters closed, or what he is after.”
“Maybe he knew that it would look like the house had been broken into if the door was jimmied, so tried the window first. But when he didn’t get through the shutters, he jimmied the door because there was no other way into the house,” Isaac reasoned.
“Whoever broke in here was in a hurry,” Balders added. He scratched his head. “She isn’t safe here now, is she?”
Isaac shook his head.
“Is she going to be safe on the estate, sir?”
Isaac suspected that Balders was really asking if the staff were going to be safe. “Until the killer is caught, Balders, everyone on the estate has to go about in groups of three or four and remain armed at all times. None of the women are to walk anywhere alone. Trespassers are to be shot on sight. Make sure that all of the signs are in good order, and visible to anybody who even thinks about straying onto Chester land.”
“Yes, sir,” Balders murmured, nodding his approval while sharing a knowing look with a colleague who hovered uncertainly in the doorway. They, like the rest of the villagers of Tipton Hollow, had automatically assumed that Tuppence was guilty. Now, though, it was evident to them that the gossips were wrong.
“She can’t come back here,” Isaac whispered more to himself than to his men.
