but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I could see their faces-angry faces, low, angry voices. Clenched fists, the Colonel leaning down, the Captain staring up at him. I-I was frightened they'd find me, send me back.' He stirred under the sheet, face agitated. 'So angry. I couldn't hear what they were saying.'
He started to repeat over and over, 'The guns-I couldn't hear-I couldn't hear-I couldn't hear-'
Warren clucked his tongue. 'Lie still, man, it's done with, there's nothing to be afraid of now!'
The unsteady voice faded. Then Hickam said, so softly that Rutledge had to lean toward the bed to hear him while Warren cupped his left hand around his ear: 'I'll fight you every step of the way…'
Rutledge recognized the words. Hickam had repeated them to him in the dark on the High Street the night he'd given him enough money to kill himself.
'Don't be-fool-like it or not-learn to live with it.'
'Live with what?' Rutledge asked.
Hickam didn't answer. Rutledge waited. Nothing. The minutes ticked past.
Finally Dr. Warren jerked his head toward the door and took Rutledge's arm.
Rutledge nodded, turned to go.
They were already in the hall, Rutledge's hand on the door, preparing to close it. He stopped in the act, realizing that Hickam's lips were moving.
The thready voice was saying something. Rutledge crossed the room in two swift strides, put his ear almost to the man's mouth.
'Not the war… it wasn't the war' A sense of amazement crept into the words. 'Then what? What was it?' Hickam was silent again. Then he opened his eyes and stared directly into Rutledge's face. 'You'll think I'm mad. In the middle of all that fighting-' 'No. I'll believe you. I swear it. Tell me.' 'It wasn't the war. The Colonel-he was going to call off the wedding.' Dr. Warren said something from the doorway, harsh and disbelieving. But Rutledge believed. It was, finally, the reason behind the quarrel. It was, as well, the Captain's motive for murder.
16
The Inn was remarkably quiet, but Rutledge stopped Red- fern in the hall and asked to have sandwiches and coffee brought to his room. He wanted to think, without distraction or interruption, and Redfern must have sensed this, because he nodded and hurried off toward the kitchens without a word.
Rutledge took the stairs two at a time. In the passage near his room, he paused as the first rays of a sultry, overly bright sun broke through the heavy clouds. Storm signs, he thought, watching the light play across the gardens and then flicker out again. They'd had a remarkable run of good weather as it was.
His eyes caught a splash of color in the small private garden, and he looked down. A woman in a broad- brimmed hat was standing there, her back to the Inn, hands on her arms, head bowed. He tried to see who it was, but in the gray light he wasn't sure he recognized her. Searching his mind for someone at the morning church service wearing a hat like that, he drew a blank. He'd been more interested in faces than apparel. And in reactions to Mavers's vicious denunciations. Leaning his palms on the windowsill, he cocked his head to one side for a better line of sight.
Behind him he heard limping footsteps-Redfern bringing up his lunch. He straightened and turned to meet him.
Redfern carried a tray covered with a starched white napkin, a pot of coffee steaming to one side, cream and sugar beside it, the sandwiches a large and uneven mound.
Rutledge gestured to the woman in the garden. 'Do you know who that is, down in the private garden? The woman with her back to us.'
Redfern handed the tray to Rutledge and looked out. 'That's-aye, that must be Miss Sommers. The Netherbys brought her into town for the morning services. But she's worried about her sister with a storm coming, doesn't want to stay for lunch after all. Jim-that's the stable boy-went to see if Mr. Royston or the Hendersons or even the Thorntons might take her home.'
He reached for the tray again, going on into Rutledge's room to set up the table. Rutledge stayed where he was for a moment longer.
He'd have sworn it was Catherine Tarrant. The small table by the window overlooking the street was ready for him when he followed Redfern to his room. 'If you don't mind, sir, you can just leave the tray in the hall when you go. I'll be back to pick it up when the dining room is closed. We're not all that busy today, but you never know; if it starts to rain, we could be full.'
He was already out the door when Rutledge stopped him. 'Redfern. Did the Colonel come here often to dine? Or did Captain Wilton bring Miss Wood?'
Redfern nodded. 'Sometimes. But I think they went into Warwick as often as not, if they wanted a dinner. Lunch, now, that was different. If the Colonel had business in the town, he'd often stop in. Always left a generous tip. Never fussy. Mrs. Haldane, Simon's mother, was the fussiest woman alive! There was no pleasing her! The Captain's not one to demand service, but he expects you to do a proper job, and he knows when you don't. Miss Wood'-he smiled wryly- 'Miss Wood is a lady, and you don't forget that, but she's a pleasure to serve, never makes you feel like a wooden post, with no feelings. Nicest smile I've ever seen. I enjoy having her come in.'
'How did she and Wilton get on?'
He thought about it for a moment. 'Comfortably. You could see that they were happy. Never holding hands or anything like that, not in public, but the way he held her coat or took her arm, the way she'd tease him-the closeness was there. I was sometimes-envious, I suppose. My own girl married another chap while I was in hospital and they thought I'd soon be having my foot taken off. When you're lonely, it can hurt, watching others in love.' There was a wistfulness in his voice as he finished.
Hamish, in the back of Rutledge's mind, growled. 'You'd know about that, then, wouldn't you? How it hurts? And all you've got to ease your loneliness is me… If there's a more dismal hell, I haven't found it.'
Rutledge almost missed Redfern's next words.
'The last time I ever saw the Colonel, he'd come here for lunch.'
'What? When was that?'
'The Tuesday before he died. It was another day like this one. Overcast, you could feel the storm coming. Everyone was jittery, even the Colonel. Didn't say two words to me all through his meal! Frowned something ferocious when Miss Wood came in looking for him. He left his pudding and took her into that garden where you saw Miss Sommers just now. I came up here to fetch some fresh linens for the maids, and they were still there. He had his hands on her shoulders, saying something to her, and she was shaking her head as if she didn't want to hear. Then she broke away and ran off. As I came back down the stairs, the Colonel was just walking in from the garden, looking exasperated, and he said, 'Women!' But I had the feeling there was-I don't know, an exhilaration there too, as if in the end he expected to have his way. I brought him another cup of coffee, but he was restless, and after drinking half of it, he was gone.'
'You don't know what had upset Lettice Wood? Or the Colonel?'
'It mustn't have been too important,' Redfern answered. 'I saw her the next day, looking radiant. Walking down to the churchyard with Mr. Royston. I ought to be back in the dining room-'
Rutledge let him go with a nod of thanks.
He sat there, biting into the thick beef sandwiches, not even aware of the taste or the texture, absently drinking his coffee. There was a slice of sponge cake for dessert.
Wilton had motive, he had opportunity, and he had access to a weapon. All that was left was to clear up loose ends and then make the arrest. And to explain to Bowles on Monday morning the reasons behind the decision.
Was Tuesday the day that the Colonel had told his ward what he was planning to do? To call off the wedding?
But why? It was an excellent marriage from any point of view, as far as an outsider could tell. Wilton and Lettice were well matched in every way-socially, financially, of an age. Unless there were things about Wilton that Charles Harris knew and didn't like. Then why allow the engagement to take place seven months ago? Because he hadn't known at the time? What could he have learned in the last week that would have made him change his
