Cornish Castle Mystery Collection: Tales of murder and mystery from Cornwall. Vivian ConroyЧитать онлайн книгу.
that he did it. Someone used this re-enactment tonight to set up the murder and your father as the most likely suspect.’
‘The knife was on the table for the taking. Can’t it have been a crime in anger? Grab the knife, go down to the dungeon where Haydock was all alone …’
‘And how to get into the cage?’ Guinevere held Oliver’s gaze. ‘We had the same thing in Well-mannered Murder, the play we are rehearsing. A locked-room mystery. Someone dies in a room that is closed off so how did the killer get in and out? The thing is: there is always a way into the locked room. You just have to figure out what it is.’
Oliver sighed. ‘I don’t feel like playing detective.’
‘Well, with your father under suspicion, we might not have a choice.’
Oliver walked away from her and sat down on the steps leading to the entry door. He rubbed his face with both of his hands, then pulled them away and faced her, as if he had come to some decision. ‘I did see something. Before we started the re-enactment. Something between Tegen and Haydock.’
‘Aha.’ Guinevere came to sit beside him, Dolly still in her arms. The dachshund looked up at Oliver with her head tilted as if waiting for his revelation.
Oliver said slowly, ‘There have been rumours, for years, that Haydock isn’t faithful to his wife.’
Guinevere looked at him. ‘And you think he was betraying his wife with Tegen? He’s old enough to be her father!’
‘I know. And I never believed it before. But tonight there was something between them … Almost like an understanding.’
Oliver frowned. ‘I can’t put a better word to it. She looked at Haydock and he looked at her and … at some point I think Haydock passed her something.’
‘Passed her something?’
‘A note maybe. Something made of paper, I think, but I didn’t look too closely. I don’t want anything to do with his tricks.’
‘If you’ve been away from here for years, only dropping by for occasional visits, you can’t have known much about him.’
‘People don’t change, Guinevere. Not in the sense that they suddenly become the exact opposite of what they always were. Usually they go down the road they’re taking.’
‘They get worse, you mean?’
‘If you want to put it that way, yes. Haydock often got what he wanted, and it made him want even more.’
Guinevere stared straight ahead. Dolly turned her head to her and licked her cheek. The doggy had an uncanny ability to read her emotions and give her a little encouraging push. That Dolly had faith in her made her feel more confident to dig into this case.
Guinevere asked, ‘So suppose Tegen was having an affair with Haydock. Why would she kill him? And how would she have entered the cage while the door was locked and your father had the only key to it on his person?’
‘That’s the thing, isn’t it?’ Oliver said, leaning his elbows on his knees. ‘My father had the only key and he swears that when he left Haydock, the man was still alive and well.’
Guinevere nodded slowly. ‘We have to focus on the other way into the locked room. That’s how we set up the scenario for Well-mannered Murder. We started from the way it was done and then we tried to obscure it with false leads and red herrings.’
She looked at Oliver’s profile. ‘Did Eal look if someone had been at the air hole? On the outside, I mean. If there are bushes there, there’s also earth. You should be able to see footprints or something.’
‘Clever, but no. Eal drew the same conclusion as I did right away. You can’t propel something through that air hole with sufficient force to embed the object in the victim’s chest.’
‘Not even if Haydock was standing at the air hole when it happened?’
Oliver looked her over. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘Imagine the scene.’ Guinevere lifted her hands and gestured. ‘Haydock’s locked into his cage. Your father has turned the key, asked him if he’s all right and he has gone away. Haydock’s sitting there, waiting for us to appear. That won’t happen for half an hour, he knows, because we still have to play out the entire trial sequence, until we reach the point where the judge wants to talk to Branok himself. So it’s kind of tedious for Haydock. What do you do under such circumstances? You get up and go to the air hole to look out. Or just kill time, whatever. Then … boom!’
Oliver considered it. ‘I think it would be hard to get your arm through the air hole. Let alone do it in such a way you can actually stab someone via the hole. I also think the height argues against it. If Haydock stood at the hole, his face would be at the right height. How could the killer stab him in the chest?’
Guinevere nodded. ‘You’re probably right. Still I think we should go see if there are any fresh footprints under the rhododendrons near that air hole. Broken branches, something that can prove a person made his way to the air hole tonight. It is the only other way into the cage, except for the door that was locked by your father.’
‘You want to look for footprints now?’ Oliver asked incredulously. ‘It’s getting dark already. Shouldn’t we just suggest it to Eal and leave it at that?’
‘You told me he’s never done a murder investigation before. And if it starts raining, all traces could get washed away.’
Oliver studied her. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Doing what?’
‘Looking for evidence to clear my father. You’ve just arrived here.’
‘I don’t like unsolved mysteries.’ Guinevere got to her feet. She wasn’t about to tell him that family was everything to her, and a sense of place. She wanted to defend this beautiful castle and its owner, even if he was a little rough around the edges.
Dolly barked, satisfied that they were going to do something.
Guinevere smiled. ‘You heard her. Are you coming?’
‘If you don’t like unsolved mysteries,’ Oliver said as he followed her to the narrow door in the large gate, ‘you shouldn’t be staying here at Cornisea Castle. This place is full of them.’
His own relationship with his father being one of them, Guinevere supposed, but she didn’t say so. They stepped outside. It was eerily quiet. Dolly pressed herself against Guinevere’s chest, moving her ears as if she was listening for a significant sound.
A shiver went down Guinevere’s spine. They were sneaking around in the dark with a killer on the loose.
The half-moon was bright and illuminated the surroundings, but still Oliver used his phone to light the path directly ahead of them. Guinevere stayed close to him, glad he knew his way around here. On her own she could never have figured out where the right air hole was. But Oliver led her, with confidence, to where thick bushes grew with shiny, dark green leaves.
He pointed. ‘It’s behind these rhododendrons.’
Guinevere nodded. ‘Shine it on the bushes,’ she ordered. ‘We have to see if someone pushed his way through them.’
‘Those branches are pretty pliable,’ Oliver said. ‘Wouldn’t they have just snapped back in place after the killer had passed?’
‘Hey, you there!’ a voice resounded. ‘What are you doing there?’
Guinevere froze, clutching Dolly in her arms. ‘Who’s that?’ she whispered.
A man in dark clothing came their way, shining a torch.
Oliver released his breath in a frustrated hiss. ‘It’s Eal,’ he whispered. ‘I bet you he’ll now make a fuss about us being out here. But if we had told him what we intended, he