"That instrument has been a murder weapon, sure as any blade. But I won't make a speech. There's the fact. Motive has been eliminated. The will has been abrogated. I'll write a new one in a few days."
He looked them in the eye, one by one. Nobody shied away. Everybody looked baffled and dismayed.
Dellwood said, "Sir, I don't understand."
"I certainly hope you don't. Those of you who don't, be patient. It will become clear. First, though, I want to introduce the man next to me. His name is Garrett. Mr. Garrett is an investigative specialist, amongst other talents. I employed Mr. Garret to find out who's been stealing from me. His efforts have been quite to my satisfaction so far."
The old boy was a chess player.
"Mr. Garrett found evidence of more heinous crimes. He's convinced me that some of you have been killing your comrades to gain a larger share of my legacy."
"Sir!" Dellwood protested. The others stirred, looked at each other.
"Mr. Garrett was a scout during his service, Dellwood. He tracked today's poacher back to our stable."
He wasn't maundering or speaking imprecisely. He wanted them to think I'd done just that, not lost the trail in the fields. He wanted somebody to feel pressed.
"Mr. Garrett has an excellent reputation for handling these things. I've asked him to find the killer. He's agreed. I have every confidence in his ability. I tell you all this by way of letting you know where you stand. If you're innocent, I want you to cooperate with him. The sooner it's wrapped up the better. If you're guilty, maybe you ought to put on your running shoes. Be advised that I shall hunt you as implacably as the hounds of hell. You've betrayed my trust. You have done me a hurt I can't forgive. I'm going to have your head and heart when I find you."
I didn't look at him, though it was hard not to. The old devil had gone farther than I'd expected.
By burning the will he'd eliminated the threat to the innocent. Nobody stood to gain now. If he died intestate, the estate could go to the Crown, which meant everyone lost. Even the poisoner ought to want to keep him alive till he wrote a new will.
A clever man, General Stantnor. But he'd left me swinging in the breeze.
"You understand your positions," he said. "Mr. Garrett. Ask what questions you like."
Chain said, "Sir—"
"No, Sergeant Chain. Mr. Garrett will ask. You're not to speak unless spoken to. We'll stay here till Mr. Garrett is satisfied."
I said, "Mr. Garrett doesn't think he can stay awake that long."
I'm not the kind of guy who can pull all the suspects together and expose a villain by weaving a web of clever questions. My style is bull in the china shop. It's jump in the pond and thrash till the frogs start jumping. I wished I had the Dead Man handy. One of his more useful talents is an ability to read minds. He could settle this in minutes.
I still entertained the possibility of an outside force with motives unfathomable. The arguments against these people being involved had to be answered before I could discard that possibility.
They looked at me, waiting. The General turned his gaze on me as though to say, show us the old Garrett razzle-dazzle, boy.
"Anybody want to confess? Save us time and let us get to bed?"
Nobody volunteered. Surprise, surprise. "I was afraid you'd be that way."
Chain cracked, "I swiped a piece of rock candy from my sister when I was nine."
"There's a start. A criminal mastermind in the budding. I don't think we need to go back quite that far, though. Let's confine ourselves to this morning. What did you do today, Sergeant Chain? Account for your time and movements. Tell us who you saw doing what, and who saw you doing what you were doing." This would get tedious before we finished nine stories. But it might do the job. Each story would add a color to the portrait of the morning. Every tale told true would leave our villain less room to hide.
Chain got pissed. But before he could do more than grumble, Stantnor said, "I demand cooperation, Chain. Do exactly as Mr. Garrett says. Answer his questions without reservation. Or get off the estate. Followed by the knowledge that you've made yourself the prime suspect."
Chain swallowed his protests. He didn't look at me like a guy who wanted to become my drinking buddy.
I said, "Try to attach times to the major events of your day."
"I don't pay no attention to what time it is. I'm too busy doing what I got to do. I mean, I do as much as I can. Ain't possible to get done everything that needs doing."
"Thanks to our killer, who keeps taking away pairs of hands. Estimates will do. Once we've heard from everybody, it should be pretty clear who did what where and when. Go ahead. Just ramble along. Take all the time you need. You can't go into too much detail."
Clever, clever Garrett sets himself up for an excruciating night. It took Chain forty-five minutes to tell me he hadn't done anything interesting and that, between breakfast and lunch, he'd seen only five other members of the household. Excepting Dellwood and Peters, those had been on the patrol.
"Anybody disagree?" I asked. "Anybody want to call him a liar?"
Nobody volunteered.
"All right. Snake. You're uncomfortable here. How about we get you off the hook? Go ahead."
Snake's story wasn't any more interesting than Chain's. He'd seen nobody in anything but innocent circumstances. Dellwood before they'd ridden out. The other hunters during the hunt. Peters when he'd come out with me. Then he'd gone back to his stables to get away. "I don't like people that much anymore," he confessed. "I ain't comfortable around them. Can I go now, General?"
The old man had begun to doze, apparently. But he was alert enough. "You aren't concerned about what somebody might say if you're not here?"
"No sir. I ain't got nothing to hide. And I'm getting awful uncomfortable." He looked like he was about to suffer a panic attack.
The General looked at me. I shrugged.
Stantnor handed me the key. "Up to you."
I unlocked the door, held it for Snake. "Good night."
As he passed me he whispered, "You come out when you're done. Maybe I can guess who done Hawkes."
It didn't seem a good time to get hardassed. I just added him to a lengthening list of things to do while everybody slept. I closed the door, turned, glanced around, wondered if anyone had overheard. Their faces revealed nothing. But it had been a loud whisper.
I took Wayne next. He was a bust. Cook would've talked all night and next day if I hadn't gotten her to edit some. She'd seen everybody and they'd seen her.
Four down. Three hours gone. Five to go. A pattern had begun to develop. A trivial one, but a pattern. Dellwood had been seen too often to have had time for a ride in the country.
I hadn't thought him much likelier than Cook, anyway.
I had Peters go next. He resented having to be a suspect but he did what he had to do. The General seemed to be dozing again, but that meant nothing.
Peters didn't tell me anything I didn't already know.
He'd barely finished when Jennifer came to life. "Mr. Garrett. If that isn't a false name, too. How about me next? This's really wearing me down."
"Welcome to the club. Go ahead."
She hadn't done a damned thing all morning. She'd sat in her room knitting. Dellwood could attest to that. He'd found her there when he'd brought the news about Hawkes.
Fine.
"Can I go? I'm tired and I have a splitting headache."
I could empathize. I was developing one myself. It was part of an oncoming cold that seemed to be a legacy of the weather. "Not yet. Bear with me I'll try to hurry it along. Anyone want to go next?"
No volunteers. I picked Tyler. He didn't bother to conceal his resentment as he described the events of his morning. They were dull. They dovetailed. They didn't point a finger. He added another Dellwood sighting to the list. "Kaid?" I said. "How about you?" Another dull tale, mostly to do with the patrol. The idea wasn't working out. Only Dellwood and Cook—ninety percent—were out of the noose. "Dellwood, it's probably a waste of time but go ahead."