"That's correct. We've already confirmed it with the press."
"Then why didn't you tell us?"
"I would have done when I came out to see you. Why is it so important?"
"Oh, for God's sake! You said last night that Prue thought Darth Vader was one of the travelers. Can't you see how vulnerable it makes us if Ellie's connection with this man gets out?"
There was another break for muted conversation. "I'm sorry, sir," Monroe said again, "we're very busy here, as you can appreciate. What makes you think the murder of Robert Dawson has anything to do with your wife's phone calls to the Colonel?"
"I don't," Julian countered crossly, "but you seemed convinced of a connection between Ellie and the travelers when you were questioning her."
"I was repeating what Mrs. Weldon said… but it wasn't a serious suggestion, sir. Mrs. Weldon was hysterical about the intruder at Shenstead Farm. It led her to some rather bizarre conclusions. At the moment we have no reason to link the events of last night with the nuisance calls that your wife has been making."
"Right," Julian growled, "then perhaps you'd like to send a car to deal with these reporters outside my window. I'm an innocent party to all of this and I'm being treated like a criminal."
"We're very stretched, sir," said Monroe apologetically. "If it's any consolation, Captain Smith's having a far worse time of it."
"It's no consolation," he snapped. "I'm sorry the girl was hurt, but it's not my fault if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now are you going to send a car or do I have to cause a breach of peace to get some attention?"
"I'll send a car, sir."
"Do that," said Julian, slamming the phone onto its rest, then removing it again when it started to ring. He raised two fingers at the curtains. "Bastards," he mouthed.
Monroe replaced the receiver with a thoughtful smile for his inspector. "I told you he'd phone before long," he said "He's shitting bricks… wants to know what Fox is saying."
"What are you going to do?"
"Let him stew a bit longer. He's a control freak… it drove him mad to think I wasn't giving him my full attention." He pondered for a moment. "The longer we leave him to the mercy of the photographers, the more het up he's going to be. He wants to leave that house rather badly, but whether to do a runner or get rid of evidence, I don't know. Probably both."
"Do you seriously believe he's behind it?"
Monroe shrugged. "I certainly believe he set up his wife to make the phone calls. He was far too relaxed last night. I was watching him. He was playing her like a patsy. It's interesting. She obviously sees herself as a forceful character-Mrs. Weldon certainly does-but compared with the husband she's a lump of jelly."
"He may just have taken a payoff to get her involved."
Monroe narrowed his eyes toward the window. "Possibly, but he's carrying a lot of expenses… the wife's demands… the girlfriend's demands… the horse… the hunt… the cellar. There were two sets of golf clubs in the hall… his and hers… not to mention the BMW, the Range Rover, the designer rooms and designer clothes. According to Mark Ankerton, this is his second marriage. He was divorced twenty years ago and has a couple of grown-up children. We're talking about a guy who only ever made senior-management level… had to give half his wealth to his first wife… supported children… sold his house before the boom… then took early retirement at fifty-five to live like a lord." He shook his head. "It doesn't add up."
"Fox is making him out to be the biggest arms dealer in Europe. How likely is that?"
"On a scale of one to ten? Zero," Monroe admitted. "I'm guessing he was into a share of the silver and the paintings, and he'll have a heart attack when he hears about the guns. I think Fox was telling the truth about giving him the file, though. Bartlett certainly knew who Captain Smith was. As to whose idea it was-" he made a rocking motion with his hand-"six of one and half a dozen of the other. The timing suggests Fox. The Colonel's never been one for socializing, but he didn't leave the house after his wife's death. I'm betting Fox became bored with using Vera to steal for him and wanted to get inside himself. The method-driving the old boy into an exhausted defense of his terrace while Fox went in the back-suggests Bartlett. He's a nasty piece of work. I can easily believe he killed the Colonel's dog to up the ante."
"Mark Ankerton quoted 'fog of war' at me. Something to do with confusing the Colonel about where, who, and how powerful the opposition was."
"I prefer hunting metaphors," said Monroe. "Fox and Bartlett are two of a kind. They both enjoy terrorizing dumb animals."
The inspector chuckled. "The Colonel's not a dumb animal."
"Might as well be when he's accused of raping his daughter. How do you argue against a thing like that?"
"Mm." The inspector eased himself off the edge of the sergeant's desk. "There's something very personal about Fox's pursuit of that family. Do you think he's telling the truth about the affair with the daughter? The psychiatrists will have a field day if he is. Pampered little rich girl. Boy from the wrong side of the tracks."
"We'll be asking for confirmation as soon as we have access to Elizabeth."
"She'll deny it for Captain Smith's sake."
"I hope she does," said Monroe. "The man's an animal. If he really believed the girl was his daughter, why did he attack her?"
The inspector moved to the window. "Because he doesn't see her as an individual… just as a member of a family he's obsessed with. It's bloody odd, frankly. The Colonel and his son have jumped in with offers of DNA to prove there's no relationship between themselves and Fox."
Monroe nodded. "I know. I spoke to Ankerton. His argument is that any similarity to Leo is coincidental, but it's the similarity that led Fox to plague the family. He spouted a load of gobbledegook about transference and depersonalization… something to do with bringing the Colonel down to size in order to feel superior."
"Mm. But Captain Smith is refusing a DNA comparison?"
"On Ankerton's advice." Monroe pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "Give her a break, guv. She's a decent girl, and there's no compulsion to force her to find out who fathered her. It won't affect the case."
The inspector nodded. "Has Fox said how he and Bartlett hooked up again? That's the key to who planned it. They would certainly have overlapped in ninety-seven, but Bartlett wouldn't have known how to find Fox once he vanished. Common sense suggests it was Fox who made the initial contact."
"Says it was a chance meeting in the Copse, and Bartlett threatened to turn him in for impersonating Leo if he didn't cut him in on this deal."
"What was Fox doing in the Copse?"
"Sussing out the Manor. Says he read about Ailsa's death and wanted to know how the land lay. He doesn't deny that he was there to rob the place, but he does deny the wholesale stripping of the contents that he claims Bartlett wanted. According to him, Bartlett said the Colonel was a sitting duck. The trick was to make him so reclusive that it would be weeks before anyone else realized the place had been emptied."
"The Colonel would have to be dead for that."
"Which is what Fox says Bartlett ordered. Along with Robert and Vera Dawson. They were lonely people. No one spoke to them. By the time anyone bothered to investigate-probably Mark Ankerton-there'd have been no witnesses, the travelers would have been long gone and we'd have concentrated our efforts on them."
"Do you buy that?"
The sergeant shrugged. "It's undoubtedly what Fox was planning, but I can't see Bartlett going for it. The coats and balaclavas are the key. My guess is the plan was to concentrate everyone's attention on the travelers during the holiday while Bartlett and Fox went into the Manor, tied the Colonel up, stripped the place, and left him to be found by Bob or Vera when they bothered to turn up for work. Assuming he was still alive, he would have told us the travelers were responsible."