constable, I don’t know anything, really. Colin had been slaughtering pigs for the market. We’d had an exceptionally good year, and he was getting a good price for them.” She stifled a sob. “The best year we’ve ever had, and he won’t be here to enjoy the proceeds.”
“I’m sorry.” Cecily waited a moment for the woman to collect herself, then prompted, “You were saying?”
“Oh, yes.” The widow hunted for a handkerchief, found one in her pocket, and blew her nose. “Well, like always when he’s that busy, he wasn’t home when I went to bed. I woke up in the night and he still wasn’t home, so I went looking for him.” She started to sob. “I’ll never forget the sight of him lying there with that gold thing stuck on his face…”
She was crying in earnest now, and Samuel, who had been standing by the window, took a step forward, concern written all over his face.
Cecily shook her head at him. Just at that moment, the door opened and the housekeeper walked in carrying a loaded tea tray. She took one look at the farmer’s wife and glared at Cecily.
Mrs. Mackerbee, however, appeared to collect herself and ordered the housekeeper to lay the tray down on a small table.
Cecily suffered through an awkward silence while the disapproving woman poured the tea and handed her the cup and saucer.
Taking it from her, Cecily thanked her graciously, then waited until she had left the room before addressing the farmer’s wife again.
“I know these questions might be painful,” she said, as Mrs. Mackerbee sipped her tea, “but I believe they might help in the investigation. I would greatly appreciate it if you would try to answer them for me.”
Mrs. Mackerbee nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Very well. First of all, can you think of anyone who might want to hurt your husband?”
The widow’s bottom lip trembled, and she struggled to hold back her tears. “Not a soul. Colin was a good man, a friend to everyone. He’d give his last crumb of bread to someone in need and go hungry himself. I never met anyone who didn’t like him. Except perhaps…” She paused and shook her head. “No, never mind.”
Cecily leaned forward. “You know of someone?”
Mrs. Mackerbee’s cup rattled in the saucer as she put it down with a shaky hand. “No really, no. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off, and she stared at the half-empty cup as if in a trance.
“Mrs. Mackerbee.” Cecily reached out and touched the woman’s arm. “I’d appreciate anything you can tell me about this dreadful matter. It’s vitally important we capture this evil monster.”
The widow started and gradually her eyes focused on Cecily’s face. “Yes, I understand. I just don’t want to get an innocent person in trouble.”
“If he’s innocent you have nothing to fear.”
For another long, painful moment the other woman hesitated, then she said slowly, “There was a young lad working on the farm not too long ago. Nice boy, but completely useless for farmwork. Colin had to let him go. He was upset about it-Colin, I mean-because he really liked Basil, but he had to be honest about it when the other farmers asked him for a reference. He told them Basil would never be any good on the farm. He just wasn’t cut out for it.”
Cecily could hardly wait for her to stop speaking before asking, “Would that be Basil Baker, by any chance?”
The widow widened her eyes. “Yes! It was! Do you know him?”
“I met him the other day.” Cecily paused, then added, “Would you say he was hot-tempered?”
“No, no, not at all.” Mrs. Mackerbee held out her hand in appeal. “Please, Mrs. Baxter, don’t take anything I say the wrong way. Basil was upset when he lost his job, and there was a bit of an argument, but he would never hurt a fly, I’m sure of that. That’s why he wasn’t any good on the farm. He couldn’t stand it when the pigs had to be slaughtered. Broke his heart, it did. He treated all the animals like they were his children. He was just too softhearted for this kind of work.”
“But he was upset with your husband.”
“I suppose so.” She reached for her cup again, shaking her head. “No, it couldn’t have been Basil. I just can’t believe he would do that.”
She didn’t want to believe it, either, Cecily thought, but she’d been fooled too many times in the past to take anything for granted. She leaned back. “Was your husband acquainted with Thomas Willow, or Jimmy Taylor?”
“I don’t know about the first gentleman, but I believe Colin knew Jimmy.” Mrs. Mackerbee choked on the tea and quickly put down the cup. “Jimmy died last week. Are you saying there’s some sort of coincidence?”
Cecily hesitated, then said reluctantly, “Not a coincidence. There’s a possibility the deaths are linked.”
“How very strange.” The widow frowned. “You think the same person who killed my Colin killed Jimmy Taylor as well?”
“Yes, as well as Thomas Willow, the shoemaker. They all were found with gold stamps on their foreheads.”
The fear was painfully evident on the widow’s face. “The saints preserve us. I wonder who’s next.”
“Exactly. Which is why we have to be aggressive in our search for this killer.” Cecily drained her cup and set it down in its saucer. Rising to her feet, she added, “Since you weren’t acquainted with Mr. Willow, I assume you haven’t met his former assistant, Lester Salt.”
Mrs. Mackerbee struggled to her feet. “I’m not familiar with either name. Do they live in the village?”
“Mr. Willow owned Willow’s shoe shop until he died and left the business to Mr. Salt.”
“Oh! I know the shoe store. I pass it every time I go to the High Street.” Mrs. Mackerbee led the way to the door, nodding at Samuel when he stepped forward and opened it for her. “I’ve never been inside, though. Colin goes… went in there occasionally to buy boots. In fact, he was just in there last week.” Once more the mask of misery clouded her face. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. It’s going to be hard without him.”
Cecily impulsively put an arm about her shoulders. “It will take time, I know, but you will be strong and survive. I lost my husband many years ago, and at the time I wanted to die, too. I’m very glad I didn’t, since I’m now married again and very happy. I hope you will be, too.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Baxter.” Mrs. Mackerbee paused by the front door as Samuel tugged it open. “I’ve heard that you’re clever in finding murderers. Much cleverer than our constables, though they do their best, no doubt. Anyway, I just want to say I hope you find this horrible man before he kills someone else. I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone.”
“I will certainly do my best.” Cecily stepped outside, shivering as she dragged her coat collar closer around her neck. “Would you mind if I take a look around the barn where your husband died?”
The widow looked startled for a moment, then shook her head. “Not at all. It’s the one closest to you, right over there.” She pointed at a barn on the other side of the yard. “I could come with you if you like?”
Cecily could tell from the other woman’s tentative tone that it was the last thing she wanted to do. Assuring her that they would be perfectly fine on their own, Cecily beckoned to Samuel and headed for the barn.
It was obvious, the moment she entered, that it was unlikely she’d find anything of value. The barn had been meticulously cleaned out, with new straw scattered over what must have been the place where Colin Mackerbee had died.
After searching around for only a few moments, Cecily gave up and led Samuel back to the carriage. The deeper she dug into this case, the more confusing it became.
Someone out there had managed to dispose of three men without leaving a single clue behind. Except for the gold stamps and the missing locks of hair-a rather deliberate attempt to link the murders.
What kind of strange mind would go to such lengths? Who were they dealing with, and what was the killer’s purpose? Again she remembered Madeline’s words.
Maybe they should call in the inspector, after all. It could take the full force and expertise of Scotland Yard to apprehend a killer this devious.
