Page 69 of Death at a Highland Wedding
“So the weapon being from the house only slightly reduces the list of likely suspects,” Gray says. “That is our news then. And you also found something, Hugh?”
McCreadie’s eyes widen. “What makes you think that?”
I glare at him. “You teased about it inside.”
“And it worked. You rose to the bait and told me the results of your examination of the shillelaghs.” When both Gray and I turn on him, he lifts his hands. “Now I am truly teasing. Yes, I have something. Like your clue, it does not solve the mystery—or exonerate Archie—but it does answer questions. We know Ezra was almost certainly killed by that shillelagh from Archie’s collection, and we also know, with equal near certainty, that the woman you saw out last night was slipping out to meet someone, that someone almost certainly being Ezra.”
I sit back in my chair. “You beat me to it. That is my theory as well—that the woman went to meet Ezra.”
Gray looks over. “Which you did not share with me?”
“Or Hugh, because it was just my brain thumbing through possibilities. Still, the main two reasons for a woman to be out would be kissing and killing.”
Gray’s brows shoot up. “I am not certain what that says about women. Or, more correctly, about your opinion of them.”
McCreadie makes a noise suspiciously close to a snicker. “Given that you were out with Duncan, Mallory, I must ask which of those two you had in mind.”
I shake my head. “I mean those are the most likely reasons for a woman to be outherelast night. On an estate where we know there are traps. Either she was the killer or she was going to meet a lover. The most likely suspect for the role of lover would be Ezra, since it would explain whyhewas out as well.”
I turn to McCreadie. “So your clue? Who was it? Was she definitely going to meet Ezra?”
“And this is where my clue becomes, like yours, less than as helpful as one might hope.” He pushes back his chair and stretches his legs. “What I have is a maid who found a note in Ezra’s wastebasket. A partial note, discarded because of an inkblot. It was unaddressed, which is not surprising. When sending such notes, one cannot risk them falling into the wrong hands.”
“Have some experience, do you?”
Color touches his cheeks, but he goes on. “It was only the opening lines, in which Ezra asked the recipient to meet him at the bench by the smallest lake. He said he knew he should not send the letter, but he could not stop thinking about her. The maid found it in his room. She claims it was dropped near the wastebasket and so she dared not presume it was rubbish.”
“Giving her an excuse to read it.”
“Yes. When she realized it was of a personal nature, she burned it to protect Ezra, whom she seemed to have thought very highly of. A bit of an infatuation. Nothing new there, hmm, Duncan?”
When Gray doesn’t answer, McCreadie says, “Ezra was always very popular with the maids. It is his kindness they respond to.”
“So this one had an infatuation,” I say, “which wasn’t affected by the fact he was writing love notes to another?”
McCreadie smiles. “Heavens no. That only proved he had a tender and romantic heart, which is what all young ladies wish to see in the object of their infatuation.”
“Could she identify the handwriting?” I ask.
Gray frowns. He’s been quiet, but this catches his attention. Then he nods. “Ah. Yes. Because it could have been placed there by another.”
“I considered that,” McCreadie says. “And so I found samples of his writing, Archie’s, my own, and Duncan’s. We had all made notes on a plan of the wedding arrangements. Fiona and Violet’s writing was there as well. I asked the maid to choose the writing she saw. She chose Ezra’s.”
“Then the question is who he was seeing. There’s Edith, Violet, and, er…”
A smile touches McCreadie’s lips. “My sister, whom you do not wish to mention. My sister must be a suspect, however little I can imagine her doing this.” He tilts his head. “No, I can imagine her striking Ezra in the head if he attacked her, but since I cannot imaginehim attacking anyoneIwould struggle to see my sister as the culprit. I would also struggle to see her slipping out for an assignation two days before her wedding. Some young women—and men—would consider that romantic. Fiona would not, however popular Ezra might have been with the ladies.”
“Not just the maids then?” I say.
“Not just the maids. I have never quite understood it myself.” McCreadie flushes slightly. “And that was rude. I only mean that he attracted what always seemed an inordinate amount of interest from young ladies. I suppose it is his kindness. Otherwise…”
“He’s otherwise middling,” I say.
McCreadie looks uncomfortable.
“That’s not an insult,” I say. “We’re trying to cast him in the role of secret lover, and so we need to dig deeper there. In your friend group, he was not the loudest, the handsomest, or the cleverest.” That would have been Cranston, McCreadie, and Gray, respectively. “But he was kind and considerate, and often times, women appreciate ‘middling.’ It’s less daunting.”
McCreadie considers. “Yes, I suppose I can see that, and I did not intend any insult to Ezra. I remember always wondering at the attention he garnered, and perhaps, when I was young, I envied it. When we envy a thing, we seek to declare the object of our envy unworthy. But yes, to circle back to the question, women find Ezra attractive, and he was always exceedingly discreet, even as a young man, so we can cast him in the potential role of secret lover here. While I cannot see Fiona as his partner, I know we must consider her.”
