“Actually”—Penelope tipped her head—“that’s a point to note. Whoever our murderer is, he felt…a lot, but mostly, I suspect, he felt immensely betrayed. Given Monty’s image, theone everyone has of him, that he was a sound and solid friend to all, that makes some sense.”
“Regardless,” Stokes said, “we need to verify that when Underhill entered the library and chatted with the men there, he actually approached the vase in a way that would have allowed him to extract the payment.”
Barnaby said, “So we have our murderer standing in the trees, watching with the spyglass through the library window, and he sees Monty go to the vase and remove the payment our murderer had earlier deposited in the vase. The murderer is poleaxed to discover thatMontyis his blackmailer, and rage overcomes him—and before he has a chance to cool down and think, Monty walks out of the house and strolls off toward the orchard.”
“And our murderer sees his chance to vent his fury.” Penelope took up the tale. “He seizes the iron stake conveniently near him and stalks after Monty.”
Stokes nodded. “Our murderer didn’t come to the Grange expecting to kill anyone, but events collided, and he reacted.”
Frowning, Barnaby said, “I can’t see that we’ll have any luck trying to track who placed the payment in the vase. There are too many opportunities prior to any of the other men entering the library on Monday morning, including during all of the previous night.”
“All we can say,” Penelope stated, “and really, all we need to know is that our victim-turned-murderer placed his payment in the vase, saw the window and recognized the chance it offered, then saw the spyglass, picked it up, and later, used it to watch Monty pick up the payment.”
“And,” Barnaby said, “he returned the spyglass to the library the following day, and again, there are too many hours during which he might have done that unobserved to get us any further.”
After a moment of ruminating, Stokes said, “As I see it, the critical point is that at the time Monty picked up the payment and left the library and then the house, the murderer was in the trees. He was out of the house and out of sight of all others during that time.”
Penelope added, “And it seems he didn’t return to the house until after Rosalind screamed, and everyone else rushed outside.”
“As to that,” Barnaby said, “the mystery gentleman Vincent and Patterson saw leaving the house via the wood to the east—and later, after Rosalind had screamed, Fentiman and Samantha saw returning via the same route—is almost certainly our killer. He had to have left the house before nine o’clock to circle around and be in position in the trees to see his blackmailer pick up the payment, and later, after killing Monty, he returned the same way. If you think about it, it’s possible to move under the cover of trees the whole way. He never had to step into the open except for the few paces to and from the orchard entrance arch, and at the time, there was no one else around to see him.”
“True.” Penelope went on, “But once he’d returned to the house, he didn’t go outside and join the others on the lawn. Instead, by then, he’d started thinking more clearly, and he seized the moment of universal distraction to slip into the study and search…” Brows rising, she looked at Stokes and Barnaby. “For what, exactly? It couldn’t have been Monty’s black book, because the killer couldn’t have known such a record existed.”
“No,” Barnaby agreed. “It wasn’t the black book—that was an incidental and lucky find for him. Presumably, he was searching for some evidence he believes Monty had of his malfeasance—the basis for the blackmail. And because the killer hadn’t known Monty was his blackmailer, the search couldn’t have occurred before that moment.” He glanced at Penelope. “So yes, thesearch definitely occurred at that time, and while everyone else was outside at the front of the house, the killer was in the study.”
Penelope nodded. “So he won’t have been seen by anyone else between ten o’clock and sometime after ten-thirty or even later—whenever the company returned indoors.”
“Even more importantly,” Stokes said, scribbling a note, “is that the evidence of malfeasance Underhill held must still exist, although where he might have hidden it for safekeeping is anyone’s guess. It might not even be in this house.”
Frowning, Penelope ventured, “Tangible evidence—documentary evidence—doesn’t fit with the killer’s crime being an indiscretion or something of that nature.”
“No,” Barnaby agreed. “Tangible evidence that the killer believes Monty held makes the killer’s secret significantly more serious.” He met Stokes’s gaze. “Serious to the point of pushing a man to murder to keep it concealed.”
Penelope’s frown deepened. “I’m trying to think of whom among the guests might have such a secret and coming up with no idea.” After a moment, she suggested, “Let’s compile what we know of our murderer.” She raised one hand and started counting on her fingers. “He’s a cold-blooded and calculating character.”
“Except when in the grip of unexpected rage,” Barnaby added.
“And sadly,” Stokes said, “that doesn’t exactly single him out.”
Undeterred, Penelope continued, “He’s been a guest at Wyndham Castle.”
“Again,” Stokes remarked, “that doesn’t appreciably narrow our list of suspects.”
Penelope moved on to her third finger. “He has a secret of the order that would drive him to kill to keep it hidden.”
Stokes inclined his head, conceding the point.
“Next”—Penelope tapped her fourth finger—“the killer was outside from before eight forty-five to close to ten o’clock, the times he was seen leaving and returning to the house. He was therefore not among those gathered on the front lawn or near the orchard.” She touched her first finger again. “And he was in the study, searching from about ten o’clock for perhaps as long as an hour.” She looked at Barnaby. “He might have risked continuing to search even when the others returned to the house, on the grounds that, in the circumstances, no one would think of going to the study.”
Barnaby nodded. “Very possibly.”
Penelope rolled on, “Then, on Tuesday evening at nine o’clock, the killer was upstairs in Monty’s bedchamber, still searching. He was surprised by Grimshaw coming into the dressing room and knocked the poor man out.” She looked at Stokes. “That’s six points we know about our murderer. And what’s more, his searching in Monty’s bedchamber suggests he might not yet have found the evidence he’s convinced Monty held.”
Stokes nodded. “As he’s killed to keep that evidence hidden, it’s unlikely he’ll stop searching for it.”
“Although,” Barnaby said, “if he hasn’t found it yet, given we’re often in the house and we’ve set a guard on the study, he might well lie low until we depart.” He met Penelope’s eyes. “He is, after all, a careful person when not in the grip of overwhelming rage.”
She nodded, and Stokes fixed his gaze on her and Barnaby and asked, “So who fits our bill?”
