him. A matter of life and death.”
She shrugged, still not interested. “You can ask the old bat at number 14,” she said. “She’s always snooping out through her window, minding other people’s business. She might know.”
We went across the street. I saw a lace curtain twitch before the inspector knocked on the door. Soon after, the door was opened an inch or two and a sharp-nosed face looked out.
The inspector repeated his question and the door was opened wider to reveal an old woman in a flowery pinny and carpet slippers.
“You’re not going to find him, are you?” the old woman said triumphantly. “He’s gone. Hopped it.”
“Gone where?”
“Out to his daughter in Australia. His wife died and he packed up and went. Three or four years ago now.”
“Now, that presents an interesting problem for Mr. Robbins, doesn’t it?” the inspector said as we returned to the motor. “I wonder if he’s planning to go out to Australia to seek out the last jury member.”
“Hardly on the twelfth day,” I said. “He wouldn’t even have time to leave England by then.”
“Then what’s he going to do on the twelfth day?” my grandfather said. “I rather think he’s the type who’d want a big finale.”
None of us had an answer to that one.
We left the city of Exeter behind and rolling countryside stretched ahead of us, with the snowcapped tors as a backdrop. “So the big question is, who has been hiding him?”
“It might be worth checking with Wild Sal again,” I said. “She sort of threatened me this morning. Nobody goes near the place she lives up on the moors, do they?”
“My lads were there to apprehend her,” the inspector said. “Hardly more than a sheep byre—stone walls, dirt floor and not enough room to swing a cat. Nowhere to hide him there.”
“But if they’d seen you coming, there are plenty of places to hide up on the moor until you’d gone, aren’t there?” I suggested.
“What exactly do you know about this Robbins?” Granddad asked. “Used to have a music hall turn, didn’t he?”
“He did. In fact, he was quite popular at one time. I gather it was a sort of magic act with his wife, sleight- of-hand stuff, but the difference was that it was a type of comedy act too and they played various characters. His most famous one was apparently an old colonel, trying to impress a coquettish young girl, played by his wife.”
“You know, I think I saw him once,” Granddad said excitedly. “At the Hammersmith Empire. The old colonel and the young girl. That rings a bell. They were quite good. Clever and funny too. What were they called?” He sucked through his teeth, thinking.
“I believe it was Robbie and someone.”
“‘Robbie and Trixie, Tricks and Chuckles,’ that was it,” Granddad said. “I did see them. The old colonel and the young girl. He was trying to impress her, producing flowers out of her hat, money out of her ear. So did you say that his wife killed herself?”
“Right after he was convicted,” the inspector said. “Left a note. Said she couldn’t handle the shame of it or go on living without him. So she drowned herself near Beachy Head. Walked out into the sea, and you know what the currents are like around that headland. The body was never found.”
I stared out the window, trying to control my racing thoughts. The old colonel. Was he actually staying at Gorzley Hall at this moment? Colonel Rathbone had claimed to be a colonel with the Bengal Lancers, but he didn’t look comfortable in the saddle. And he hadn’t known his commanding officer’s nickname. But Mrs. Rathbone? She didn’t look as if she’d ever been an entertainer. But was it possible the old colonel’s wife hadn’t died after all? I wondered whether to voice my suspicion to the inspector, then decided that I should talk it over with Darcy first. He knew people in London who could check on such things. I’d tell him instead.
As we drove down the hill and into the village we saw the constable talking to someone outside the police station. The inspector wound down his window. “Did you get my message, Jackson?” he asked.
“I did, sir.” The constable came over to us. “I went round to Mr. Barclay’s house, but he wasn’t there. I’ve been keeping an eye open for him, but I haven’t seen him all day.”
“I want him found, Jackson. The man may be in danger. Now go and ask around the village if anyone has seen him, understand? I’ll just drive this young lady to her front door and then we’ll come back to help you.”
“It’s all right. I can walk from here,” I said.
“No, my lady. Given what we know now, I don’t want you walking anywhere alone. In fact, when I get back to the village I’m going to question everyone again. Someone must have spotted Robbins. Someone must know something and I mean to find out who is hiding him.”
It was his insistence on driving me to the hall that made me realize the danger we all might be in. If Mr. Robbins had been plotting and planning his vengeance during his years in prison, he wouldn’t take kindly to anyone who was trying to get in his way. And he had proved clearly that he was literally able to kill with no trace and under all our noses.
* * *
AS I ENTERED the hall I was met by Darcy, striding out from the drawing room with a look of thunder on his face.
“Where the devil have you been?” he demanded.
I stepped back, recoiling from this unexpected wrath. “I went out with my grandfather and Inspector Newcombe. We went to find Mr. Klein and you’d be amazed what else we discovered—”
“And you didn’t think of telling me?” His eyes were still blazing.
“I wanted you to come too, but the inspector refused. And he made me promise not to mention it to anyone else. I felt terrible. I did tell Lady Hawse-Gorzley.”
“Yes, that you’d gone to see your mother,” he snapped. “Can you imagine how worried I was when I went down to the cottage and you and your grandfather were not there and your mother had no idea where you had gone?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am. I did try to include you.”
His expression softened a little. “I’m not angry because I couldn’t come,” he said. “I always felt that police business should be left to the police, as you know very well. It’s just that I was worried about you. I thought you might have been kidnapped or bumped off because you were interfering. You can’t imagine what went through my mind.”
I touched his shoulder tentatively. “Darcy, I said I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you but I’d been asked not to.”
“You could have at least let me know you were safely with the police.”
I was beginning to feel defensive. “You have plenty of secrets from me, don’t you? I don’t even know what you do when you go off on your little jaunts. Don’t you think I worry about you?”
He smiled. “You do have a point there. But I know how to take care of myself.”
“So do I,” I said.
He slipped his arms around my waist. “Well, you’re home and you’re safe. So let’s forget about it. Are you allowed to tell me what happened?”
“You’ll never believe this.” I led him down a long hallway until we were far from other people and told him everything.
“The man must be completely mad,” he said at last. “Killing off jurors one by one, in such an elaborate fashion. What for? What can it accomplish?”
“He’s a showman, Darcy. He wants to go out with a bang. Maybe he has no desire to live now that his wife is dead, and no desire to go back to that horrible prison.”
“Signing his own death warrant, you mean?”
I nodded. “And there’s something I want you to do,” I said, and I voiced my suspicions about the colonel.
He stood there, frowning. “Yes, I think I know someone who can find that out for me in a hurry,” he said. “Do you really think it’s possible that he’s been here among us, all this time? It doesn’t seem possible. How has he managed to go in and out to kill people at odd times?”
“It’s a big enough house. I’m sure it’s possible to slip out without being seen.”
