James steadied himself against the newel post. He looked devastated, as if Fox had supplied some missing pieces in a jigsaw. "He claimed squatters' rights over the companion cottage to the Lodge during the summer of ninety-eight. My wife took pity on him because he had a woman and two small children with him-" He broke off clearly questioning the basis of Ailsa's sympathy.
"Go on," Monroe prompted.
"Ailsa persuaded me to let the family stay while she tried to find affordable housing for them. Meanwhile this creature-" he gestured toward Fox-"exploited a passing resemblance to my son to charge goods to the Manor accounts. My wife paid the bills, and by the time it came to my attention he'd vanished with his family, leaving debts she was unable to clear. I had to sell the cottage to honor them."
Monroe eyed Fox curiously. He'd spoken to Leo at the time of his mother's death, but he didn't remember him well enough to say if the resemblance was a strong one. "Was Wolfie one of these children?"
"I don't believe I ever saw them, but I know it worried my wife intensely that three such vulnerable people should be under the influence of this man."
"Did you inform the police?"
"Of course."
"What names did you give?"
"I don't remember now. My wife passed all the papers on the housing application to your people, so the names will be there. She may have kept copies. If so, they'll be in the dining room." With a sudden movement he stepped forward and slapped Fox across his face. "How dare you come back? What lies did you tell my wife this time?"
Fox straightened his head with a malevolent smile. "I told her the truth," he said. "I told her who fathered Lizzie's little bastard."
Monroe caught James's hand as he lifted it again. "Best not, sir."
"Ailsa wouldn't have believed you," said the old man angrily. "She knew perfectly well that nothing as disgusting as you've suggested ever happened."
"Oh, she believed me, Colonel, but I didn't say you were the father. That was Lizzie's idea-she didn't think Mrs. Bartlett would get worked up over anything less."
James turned helplessly to Mark.
"Who did you say was the father?" Mark asked.
Fox stared him down. "I've been watching you all day-you could hardly keep your hands off her. She does me credit, don't you think, Mr. Ankerton?"
Mark shook his head. "Wrong eye color, my friend. Elizabeth's are blue… as are yours… and Mendel's law says it's impossible for two blue-eyed parents to produce a brown-eyed child." Gotcha, you bastard! Either Leo had been lying for the fun of it, or this ignorant sap knew as much about genes as he did. "You shouldn't have relied on Vera for information, Fox. She never could get her head around dates. The Irish tinker came and went two years before Elizabeth's pregnancy-" he leveled a finger at Fox's heart-"which is why Ailsa wouldn't have believed you either. Whatever she died from… however she died… she knew there was no connection between her granddaughter and you."
Fox shook his head. "She knew me both times, Mr. Ankerton… paid me off the first time… would have paid me off the second time if she hadn't died. She didn't want her husband knowing how many skeletons there were in the family closet."
"Did you kill her?" asked Mark bluntly.
"No. I wasn't here that night."
Nancy moved out from the corridor. "Vera said he was trying to blackmail Ailsa. She seemed quite lucid. Apparently Ailsa said she'd rather die than give him money… so he made Vera lock the door and leave Ailsa to him."
Fox's gaze flickered briefly in her direction. "Mrs. Dawson confuses me with Leo. Perhaps you should be putting these questions to the Colonel's son, Mr. Ankerton."
Mark smiled slightly. "If you weren't here, where were you?"
"Probably Kent. We spent most of the spring in the southeast."
"We?" Mark watched a bead of sweat drip down the side of the man's forehead. He was only frightening in the dark, he thought. In the light, and under restraint, he looked diminished. Nor was he clever. Cunning, possibly… but not clever. "Where are Vixen and Cub?" he asked, when Fox didn't reply. "Presumably Vixen will support the Kent alibi if you tell the police where she is."
Fox shifted his attention to Monroe. "Are you going to do your job, Sergeant, or are you are going to allow the Colonel's solicitor to question me?"
Monroe shrugged. "You've been cautioned. You have a right to silence, just like anyone else. Go on, sir," he invited Mark. "I'm interested in what you have to say."
"I can give you the facts I know, Sergeant." He marshaled his thoughts. "First fact. Elizabeth did have a brief liaison at the age of fifteen with an Irish traveler. He persuaded her to steal for him, and her brother took the blame to protect her. Vera certainly knew about the liaison, because she told lies for Elizabeth whenever Elizabeth went out. The whole episode caused a catastrophic breach of trust between all members of the household which was never repaired. Vera, in particular, felt badly treated because the Colonel accused her of the theft… and I doubt Mrs. Lockyer-Fox behaved toward her in the same way again. I'm sure she felt Vera encouraged Elizabeth to act as she did."
He put a hand on James's arm to keep the old man silent. "Second fact. Elizabeth had a baby when she was seventeen which was put up for adoption. She was very promiscuous as a teenager and didn't know herself who the father was. Vera, of course, was privy to the birth and the adoption. However, I suspect she's confused the two episodes in her mind, which is why this man thinks the Irish traveler was the father." He watched Fox's face. "The only person left alive who can identify the traveler-apart from Vera, whose testimony is flawed-is Elizabeth herself… and she describes him as a much older man who was father to most of the children in his entourage."
"She's lying," said Fox.
"Then it's your word against hers. If she fails to identify you, the police will draw their own conclusions about the truthfulness of everything you've said… including the death of Mrs. Lockyer-Fox."
He was rewarded with a flicker of indecision in the pale eyes.
"Third fact. Vera's resentment against her husband and the Lockyer-Foxes has grown exponentially since her dementia became noticeable in ninety-seven. The date is documented because it was at that time that a decision was taken to allow her and Bob to have the Lodge rent-free until their deaths. The Colonel has just said that Vera filled this man's head with nonsense about looking like Leo. I suspect it was the other way round. He used his likeness to Leo to fill Vera's head with nonsense. I don't pretend to understand why, except that he found out how easy it was to make money the first time and thought he'd have another go." He paused. "Finally, and most importantly, neither Leo nor Elizabeth has ever met or spoken to Mrs. Bartlett. So whatever scam this man is operating, it has nothing to do with the Colonel's children."
"Mrs. Bartlett seemed very certain," said Monroe.
"Then she's lying or she's been conned herself," said Mark flatly. "I suggest you put Fox into an identity parade to see if she recognizes him. Also Wolfie's mother, when and if you find her. He and a blue-eyed blonde could probably pass muster quite successfully to someone who's only ever seen Leo and Elizabeth from a distance."
"Can you prove they weren't involved?"
"Yes." He put a hand under James's elbow to support him. "The Colonel's daughter is dying. She's been in and out of hospital since September with incurable liver disease. Had she met Mrs. Bartlett in October, it would have been within the confines of St. Thomas's Hospital."
It was a clever piece of welding, a false back to the forward luggage compartment, but it was sussed by a sharp-eyed female colleague of Barker's who questioned why a small strip of paint-the width of a chisel-had rubbed off midway down one panel. It wouldn't have been visible in daylight, but in the gleam of her torch the sliver of exposed metal winked against the gray paintwork.