'How odd,' I replied. 'It was she who introduced us. She did mention that he was considered the exclusive property of someone-Victoria, I believe she was?'
Her face went beet red.
'I'm Victoria Garrison. And that man is of no interest to me.'
'I'm Elizabeth Crawford,' I went on. 'Are you by any chance related to Marjorie Evanson?'
'It's clear to me that you've been reading the London papers. Who told you that Garrison was her maiden name? Alicia, of course. Our little scandal attracts all manner of curiosity seekers.'
'As a matter of fact,' I answered her serenely, 'I was Lieutenant Evanson's nurse while he was in hospital in France.'
That stopped her cold. But she recovered quickly. 'Did Serena Melton send you here to annoy me?'
Intrigued by the fact that both she and Michael Hart had leapt to that conclusion, I hesitated a second too long.
She turned away, then swung around again to face me. 'Well, you can tell her for me that while a murder in the family is not something to cry from the rooftops, a suicide is even worse.' And she walked off, her shoulders stiff with anger.
I stood there thinking it was sad that two families had been torn apart by one act of violence, rather than being brought together in common grief.
Behind me, Mrs. Hart said quietly, 'Poor girl. She's taken her sister's death hard. They were never close. Perhaps she has come to regret that now.'
I hadn't heard her come up behind me. I'd have liked to disagree with her, but said, 'I'm sorry.'
'Victoria takes after her father. He was a hard man to like. Marjorie was more like her mother, which is probably why Mr. Garrison was fonder of Victoria.' She shifted the course of the conversation. 'Alicia tells me you've come just for the weekend. Have you known each other long?'
'She's the friend of a friend who thought we might enjoy each other's company,' I answered. 'And we have, I must say.'
'She's missed Gareth terribly. Of course there are no children. That's been a sorrow for both of them. One might say early days, but for the war. One can only pray that Gareth returns safely. I fear for Michael. You're a nursing sister. Will that shoulder heal cleanly? I don't know what they've said to Michael. He puts up a good front, and we try not to ask too many questions. I do know he secretly dreads the possibility that he might lose his arm. I've heard him cry out at night, dreaming they're taking it.'
'It's too soon to judge these things,' I said, the only hope I could offer, not knowing the details of the case. 'I'm surprised he's out of hospital. But that's a good sign, you know. When was he wounded?'
'It was no more than a fortnight, if that, after dear Marjorie was killed. When the news came, I said to my husband that I wondered if Michael had got careless, worrying over her death. They kept him in hospital as long as they could, but he's not one to be penned up. He brooded too much. We were happy to have him back and safe.'
I remembered him pacing the rector's study.
'He's no trouble at all,' she went on. 'He can do everything for himself except dress. But he won't take his morphine when he needs it. He says fighting the pain is good for the constitution.' She smiled sadly.
She moved on to speak to a friend, and I went to find Alicia. The garden party was coming to a close, and she was helping to pack away the remnants of food from the stalls, preparing to take them around to those who weren't able to attend. I volunteered to help, and she and I crisscrossed Little Sefton, answering questions at each door about who was at the affair and who was not, and of course having to explain who I was and why I was here in Little Sefton.
Along the way, Alicia pointed out the Garrison house. It was stone, and unlike its neighbors, was set well back from the road, with lovely roses climbing almost to the windows of the first storey, and a low wall around the front garden, which was ablaze with blooms of every kind, the hollyhocks just coming into their own.
Tired and ready to put our feet up-'with a little sherry,' Alicia suggested-we returned to her house. But when we got there, she discovered a letter from Gareth had arrived in the post, and she quickly excused herself to run up the stairs and read it in private.
There was a knock at the door before she'd come down again, and I went to answer it.
Michael Hart stood on the doorstep.
'I've just been to see Dr. Higgins,' he informed me lightly. 'He says I'm fit enough for London if I don't drive, carouse, or chase unsuitable women.'
'How dull for you,' I responded. 'But I'm not going directly to London. I'm returning to my parents' home in Somerset.'
He could see that I was on the point of refusing him, and he said in quite another voice, 'Don't let me down, Bess Crawford. This is important to me, and there's no one else.'
'Surely there's someone in Little Sefton who would agree to drive you.'
'Undoubtedly. But the reasons why I'm so set on going would be common knowledge in the village, even before we'd cranked the motorcar. Let them believe I've taken a fancy to you-that my broken heart has finally begun to mend.'
'Do you have a broken heart?' I asked, curious.
'There was a girl before the war. One I liked very much. She preferred someone else. It was generally assumed I was devastated. But the truth was, I liked her. I wasn't passionately in love with her.'
Was he talking about Marjorie? Michael was glib, in my opinion. It could be the truth or it could be what he thought I wanted to hear.
But then it dawned on me that if he were not so handsome, people might well see him differently and accept everything he said at face value.
'If you go with me to Somerset, you'll have to put up with the scrutiny of my family. I don't as a rule bring young men home with me.'
In fact, I never had. He sensed this, and said, 'You knew Meriwether. Surely you must be curious about what happened to Marjorie. I don't mind if you are there when I talk to the staff or her friends.'
'Lieutenant Hart-'
'Michael.'
'Michael. I have only so much leave.'
'One day. That's all I ask.'
'Let me think about it,' I said, to be rid of him. I could hear Alicia coming down the stairs.
He must have heard her too. He smiled at me, and was gone.
The next day I went to the early service with Alicia. It was a gray morning and the small church was only half full. As we took our places, Alicia said, 'Not many people here today, I'm afraid. But then most of them met you yesterday. Their curiosity is satisfied.'
I smiled and said softly, 'Never mind. I've enjoyed my visit.'
Alicia nodded. 'Yes. So have I.'
The organ wheezed into life in the dampness, and I noted that neither Michael nor Victoria was present.
As we walked home, I waited until we were out of earshot of everyone else, and said to Alicia, 'I've been meaning to ask you. Did you know a Lieutenant Fordham? Did he come to Little Sefton, do you know?'
'Lieutenant Fordham? I don't believe I've ever met him. And if he came to Little Sefton, I was never aware of it.'
'I wondered if perhaps he was a friend of Marjorie's?'
'I have no idea,' she answered, but it was clear I'd inadvertently sparked her interest. 'Is there any reason I should have heard of him?'
I was prepared for that question and smiled. 'He died not long after Marjorie. And the same inspector was looking into his death as well as hers. Coincidence? Or connection? Did someone from Scotland Yard come to Little Sefton?'
'I never saw him, but there was someone who came down. He broke the news to Victoria, and asked about Marjorie's solicitor, and the like. He spoke to Constable Tilmer and the rector as well, then left. But Marjorie hadn't lived here for years, so I expect he spent most of his time in London.'
'Did he question Michael Hart?'
