Sheila’s hand closed over her throat. “So that’s how that German killed that girl. He used one of my spades and cleaned it off afterwards-the murdering sod. Beg your pardon, m’m.”
“That’s quite all right.” Elizabeth looked down at her gloved hands. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand. You said you heard Amelia arguing beneath your window, but you decided not to go down to investigate.”
“That’s right, your ladyship. How glad I am now that I didn’t. I could have walked right into a murder and been struck down myself. Lucky escape, that’s what I had.” Sheila started fanning herself with the skirt of her apron.
“If I remember, you told me you hadn’t been out of the house the next morning when I arrived. Yet you knew that the spade that had been left out overnight had been put back in its proper place in the shed. How could you have known the spade was back in the shed, unless you saw it there after Amelia was killed?”
Sheila appeared to have no answer to that question. She sat as if turned to stone, staring at Elizabeth without a flicker of expression in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sheila,” Elizabeth said gently. “I think you heard Amelia arguing with your son right under your window that night. By the time you got down there, it was too late. He’d killed her. You took the body into the woods and hid it, hoping to put the blame for her death on the German pilot. Then you cleaned off the spade, put it back in the shed, and later burned Maurice’s bloodstained reefer jacket.”
Sheila’s voice sounded strangled when she spoke. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said hoarsely. “My son isn’t capable of killing anyone. You know that. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He liked Amelia-he would never have hurt her.”
“He probably didn’t mean to,” Elizabeth said, her heart aching for the poor woman. “Maybe Amelia was teasing him, and he just wanted her to stop. People whose minds have not fully developed are not capable of reasoning like normal people. Maurice was just trying to defend himself.”
“He would never have hurt her. Never.”
Elizabeth leaned forward and patted the trembling hands. “Sheila, you know I have to tell the constables. There’s no guarantee that something like this won’t happen again. I came to you first, because I wanted to give you the chance to prepare Maurice for what will happen to him. I’m quite sure, given the circumstances, that he won’t be put in prison. The jury will most likely find him insane, and he’ll be sent to an asylum where he can be watched and protected for his own sake. You’ll be able to visit him-”
“No!” The words were wrung from Sheila’s lips. She leapt to her feet and walked over to the window, where she stared out at the shadows creeping across the farmyard. “Maurice didn’t kill Amelia,” she said bleakly.
“Sheila-” Elizabeth rose just as the farmer’s wife turned to face her.
“My son did not kill that woman.” Her voice was stronger now, with a note of defiance. “I did.”
CHAPTER17
Elizabeth stared at the white-faced woman, unable to comprehend what she’d just heard. The possibility that Sheila Macclesby had committed murder had never occurred to her. “Why?” she asked at last.
Sheila came back to the settee and sat down. She had lost all her defiance now and looked unspeakably tired. “Maurice was… fond of Amelia. He followed her around like a little lost sheep, practically begging her to notice him. She either ignored him or shouted abuse at him.” Sheila shivered. “How I hated that girl. She was so cruel.”
She sat staring down at her hands for several seconds. When she looked up again, tears glistened in her eyes. “Lady Elizabeth, do you have any idea what it’s like to watch your son being constantly tormented and bullied? All through his school years, my Maurice had to put up with it. I’d find him sitting on the front doorstep, crying his heart out because he couldn’t understand why all the other kids hated him. I tried to explain that he was different, and that made him special. That the other kids just didn’t understand him, that was all.” She shook her head. “I could tell I wasn’t getting through to him.”
Elizabeth swallowed past the lump in her throat. “It must have been difficult for both of you.”
“Difficult?” Sheila lifted her hands and let them drop in her lap again. “It was heartbreaking, m’m. That’s what it was.” She paused for several more painful seconds before continuing. “I thought that once he left school and I could keep him here on the farm with me, that it would all be over. That nobody would ever torment Maurice again. But then Amelia came, with her blond hair and her blue eyes and that soft laugh of hers-as soon as my Maurice set eyes on her, he was smitten. I could tell.”
“So he followed her around.”
“Yes.” Sheila sighed. “I tried to stop it, of course, but the more I tried, the more determined he got. I’d never seen Maurice like that… It frightened me. I knew there would be trouble.”
“So it
Sheila nodded. “He must have been waiting for her to come home. As soon as I heard them I rushed downstairs and out the door. I heard her as I came around the corner. She was yelling at him. Terrible things.” Sheila shuddered. “She called him filthy names, told him he was never to come anywhere near her again. Told him he wasn’t fit to be around girls. I won’t repeat everything she said to him, but I could see what it was doing to him. When I got to him, he was crying. Big tears just rolled down his face.”
The silence in the room grew more ominous as Sheila relived the memory of that night. Elizabeth could hear her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. Part of her ached with sympathy for the mother who’d had to watch her son suffer so much. Yet she couldn’t condone the murder of a young woman, no matter how provoked.
“When I saw my son cowering like a beaten puppy,” Sheila said, her voice cracking with the effort to speak, “something inside my head seemed to snap. I just couldn’t take it anymore. The spade was leaning against the wall. I picked it up and I smashed it into that cruel, cruel face.” She raised her hands and covered her face. “I didn’t mean to kill her. I just wanted to shut her up. But the spade slipped in my hands, turned sideways and sliced into her head. As soon as she went down, I knew she was dead.” She began to cry-softly, like a baby kitten mewing for food.
Elizabeth waited until the pitiful sound stopped then asked gently, “So you took the body to the woods?”
Sheila nodded and wiped her eyes with a large handkerchief she’d taken from her apron pocket. “When Amelia fell to the ground, Maurice held her in his arms. He was crying so hard I felt sure he’d wake everyone up. His coat was soaked in blood, and I knew I’d have to get rid of it. I took it off him and made him go to bed. Then I put Amelia into the wagon, hitched up Daisy, and went to the woods.”
“And you burned Maurice’s jacket.”
Sheila nodded. “I’d already told the girls to burn the sacks. I put the jacket inside one of them, then I went and bought him a new one.” Her face crumpled again. “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for what I did.”
Elizabeth reached out a hand, then drew it back. “I’m sure he will,” she said. “In time.”
Sheila let out her breath in a long sigh. “What happens now?”
“I’ll have to notify the constables.” Elizabeth rose. “I’m sorry, Sheila. If there was any other way-”
“No, Lady Elizabeth. I know I have to accept my punishment for what I did. It’s Maurice I’m worried about. Who’s going to take care of him?”
“I’ll see what I can arrange.” Elizabeth paused at the door. “Try not to worry about Maurice. You have to think of yourself now.”
Sheila’s smile was filled with sadness. “I’ll always worry about him. He’s a good boy. He can’t help being different.”
It was with the greatest reluctance that Elizabeth paid a visit to the constabulary. George and Sid were shocked, and although they tried hard not to show it, suitably impressed that Elizabeth had uncovered the real murderer.
“I don’t know how you worked that one out, your ladyship.” George smoothed a hand over his bald head, a sure sign that he was embarrassed at having accused the wrong man. “Much less have her confess the whole story.”
“There really wasn’t much else she could do once I presented her with the evidence,” Elizabeth said modestly. “I think she was mostly concerned that Maurice might be blamed.”
“Well, m’m, Sid and I certainly appreciate your efforts in this matter.” He raised a warning finger. “I must advise you, however, that it is not a good idea to go poking around where a murder has been committed. You could
