Page 70 of Death at a Highland Wedding
“Should we add the maids to that list?” Gray asks.
“Technically yes,” I say. “Though my sense on seeing the woman was that she was a guest. A maid would carry herself differently. What about Edith?”
McCreadie stares at me as Gray smothers a laugh.
“I… do not mean to be rude,” McCreadie says, “but I cannot imagine Edith inspiring that kind of romantic longing in anyone, even her husband.” At my sputtered laughter, he says, “All right. Thatwasrude. But you know what I mean.”
“Poor Edith,” I say.
“Poor James,” Gray says, and McCreadie coughs on a laugh.
“All right,” McCreadie says. “If we are done being cruel to the Fryes,might I suggest we set this lead aside for now. We could re-question the ladies, but with such a delicate matter, I do not expect to get an answer. I would rather discover who was out last night and then confront her. For now, there is one more person I really must interview.”
“The prime suspect?” I say.
He glances at me.
I shrug. “Müller is a very good suspect. In trouble with Archie over the traps and almost certainly about to lose his job. Also, the village blames Archie for that little girl’s death because of something Müller did. Another reason to get rid of the gamekeeper, which means another reason for Müller to get rid ofhim.”
“Also, he seems a terrible person, which is your favorite sort of suspect?”
I smile. “It is.”
TWENTY-THREE
I don’t get to join the interview outing. I’ve already gotten the very strong impression that Müller considers few people worth talking to, and women are refused that questionable distinction altogether. Müller seems to like McCreadie well enough and tolerates Gray, so it makes sense for those two to perform the interview. Does that rankle? Yes, but mostly just because Müller is a key suspect, and I want to be there.
With that avenue cut off, I’d like to get Cranston’s fingerprints to exclude them. McCreadie agrees I should be the one to do that and the one to speak to Cranston, because in this case, my sex and lack of status help. There’s no way Ross is letting either McCreadie or Gray near his suspect. Me, though? Accompanying the accused man’s fiancée, who is bringing him food and a change of clothing? We couldn’t possibly be up to anything.
That’ll need to be done this evening, when it makes sense for Fiona to take dinner and clothing. In the meantime, then, I’m doing a bit of busywork with Isla. From the note the maid found, it seems that Sinclair planned to meet his beloved at the same bench where we’d seen Isla and McCreadie earlier. Hey, it’s a very romantic bench.
Isla and I are heading there to look for clues. The theory is that Sinclair went to meet the recipient of that letter, but was cut down on his way. His body had been found on the other side of the road, but hehadbeen heading in the bench’s direction, as if circling wide to keep anyone from spotting him walking with whomever he sent that note to. If that’s what happened,then there might be signs of the woman at that bench, where she would have waited before giving up.
Is it also possible that she went to meet him with that shillelagh in hand, intending to kill him? Yes. I struggle to envision Sinclair as the kind of lover who’d incite a woman to murder, but I can’t discount anything based on a two-day impression.
“Perhaps there were two women,” Isla says as we walk. “One received the letter, and the other learned of it and killed him for being unfaithful.”
“Ezra Sinclair as a two-timing cad?” I say.
“I do not know if I see him in that role,” she says, “but I could imagine him leaving an unhappy lover in his wake. He has moved on, most politely, but she cannot let him go.” At my look, she says, “He did have a certain way about him that I could see women finding attractive.”
“Huh. You know when Hugh, Duncan, and I were discussing the women Ezra might have been meeting, we forgot about you.”
Her cheeks heat as she shoots me a murderous glare. “It was not me, in case there is any question on the matter. I would not be running over the moors chasing romance with a near stranger. I said that I could see other women finding him attractive. He was…” She hesitates. “Not to my taste.”
“Your taste being… anyone in particular?” I tease, but she only rolls her eyes.
“Of the other women in the house, can you see him being totheirtastes?”
“I do not know them well enough. Ezra Sinclair was a type, one women can find attractive, but I did not.”
“A middling sort.”
She glances over.
I shrug. “We discussed this. Hugh says women had always found Ezra attractive, and I think it’s because he was very average. Nonthreatening. Attainable. Also, kind, which goes farther than most people give it credit for.”
“Kindness goes very far. Ezra… Yes, middling, as you say, but also comfortable and very attentive.”
