“He was worried about being thrown out. He didn’t like Americans at all, you know that. He said he’d take care of things. I never thought he’d be so stupid as to keep the ring.”
“He didn’t get rid of the motorbike either,” I said. “He rode it into the restricted area.”
“What a brutal, stupid man,” Meredith said. “Edgar, I know you can hardly be expected to believe me, but I am terribly sorry. I never intended for things to get so out of hand. He threatened to kill you if I didn’t go along with his awful plan. He was kind at first, but that was only a ruse. He turned into a violent beast.” Edgar looked away, his eyes flickering over the bookshelves, perhaps thinking how much better life was on the printed page.
“Then Crawford hid the body in the barn, until we came along and gave him the perfect plan for getting rid of it,” I said.
“Yes,” Meredith admitted, her voice low and demure. “The tides.”
“We first came here telling you all about the body on the beach at Slapton Sands, and how the tides and currents carried it in and out, along the coast. As soon as Crawford heard of a transport going down, he took Peter’s body and put a life jacket on it. Then he took him out far enough to slip him overboard and let the tide take him out. I figured that much out when we saw how easy it was to pick up a US Navy life jacket down at the harbor in Dartmouth. Then I remembered Crawford said he’d been turned back when he went out to help recover survivors. But the navy wasn’t turning anyone away. We saw a fishing boat in the Channel ourselves.”
“We didn’t know anything about that,” Meredith said. I wasn’t so sure. Crawford might have come up with the idea to let Peter drift out on the tide all by himself. Or, it could have been Meredith who suggested it.
“I can’t believe this,” David said, shaking his head as if trying to wake from a dream.
“David,” Helen said, taking his hand in hers.
“You killed your own brother,” he said, unable to look her in the face. Talk about a twist of fate.
“It was Crawford,” Meredith said. “We would have called for a doctor. It was only an accident, after all. But he hated Americans so, he was glad to see Peter die. He threatened us. We were both so frightened of him, we didn’t know what to do. He became so ugly I was worried for my own life, and Helen’s.”
I looked to the door and gave Constable Carraher a nod. Seconds later, they brought in Roger Crawford in cuffs, a thick bandage around his scalp, but fit enough to have heard it all.
“Is that how it happened?” I asked.
“You bloody bitch!” Crawford said, straining to get closer to Meredith. If Carraher and the other constable hadn’t had a tight hold on him, he’d have gone for Meredith for certain.
“They said you’d been killed,” Meredith exclaimed. “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean it, not any of it!
“It’s close enough, Yank. Except she wanted him dead. She had the inheritance laws all figured out. If Wiley got the house when Sir Rupert died, and then he bit the dust, the estate would go to the two surviving sisters. Alive, he’d’ve beat them out of their precious Ashcroft. Dead, he was worth the whole lot. She begged me to kill him.”
“What about Helen?” David said, hoping for something decent about his wife to come out.
“She ran off. Said she couldn’t watch,” Crawford said, sneering. “Not like our dear Meredith. She saw her opportunity there and then. Sir Rupert had told her the Yank was in his new will just before he died.”
“You frightened me, Captain Boyle, bringing this man back from the dead,” Meredith said, fear putting a quiver in her voice. “I did mean everything I said. Can’t you see he’s nothing but a common criminal trying to save himself?”
“You drugged me,” Lady Pemberton said, her eyes fixed on Meredith. “I thought I was losing my mind, thinking I saw a body in the foyer that night. But I did. It was Peter Wiley.”
“Of course I didn’t, Great Aunt Sylvia,” Meredith said. “Why would I do that?” Her hands clutched at the fabric of her skirt, bunching it up, all her fear on display in those two hands while her face remained impassive.
“Because you knew that I had seen,” Lady Pemberton said. “I went to look for you in your room, but you weren’t there. By the time I got back to the top of the stairs, the body was gone. But I was certain I had seen it.”
“You were dreaming, Great Aunt Sylvia,” Meredith said, still clinging to this part of her story. “I told you so.”
“You were so solicitous, Meredith,” she replied. “Bringing my tea every morning after that until I didn’t know what time of day it was. A confused old lady. Inspector, I suggest a search of Meredith’s room. You may find sleeping pills or some such thing.” Lady Pemberton’s mouth was set in a grimace, which might have had as much to do with addressing a policeman as with Meredith’s gaslighting her. I’d been wrong about where Great Aunt Sylvia had seen something. It wasn’t from her window; it was from the staircase, minutes after Peter had been pushed down the stairs.
“Yes, I have sleeping pills,” Meredith said. “It’s not uncommon, not against the law.”
“I want to go to my room,” Helen said. “I have a terrible headache.”
“You stay put, Madam,” Inspector Grange said. “We haven’t finished here yet. Lady Pemberton, you are willing to swear to having seen a body at the bottom of the stairs the night Peter Wiley went missing?”
“Yes,” she said, with a firm nod.
“Crawford has already given his statement as to what occurred that night,” the Inspector said. “It matches the version given by Meredith Shipton, except of course in regard to his forcing the decision on the ladies.”
“This can’t be true,” David said. “Helen?” She turned away. There was nothing she could say. She wasn’t a very good liar.
“This is all Father’s fault,” Meredith said to no one in particular. “If he hadn’t gone and got Julia Greenshaw pregnant, none of this would have happened. He drove mother to an early grave with his duplicity and left us with this intolerable situation. I hate him more than I ever did.”
“You stupid, stupid girl,” Great Aunt Sylvia said, shaking her head wearily. “You directed all your venom and hate at your father, waving that letter like a knife in his face. But you never read it carefully, did you? Never gave him the slightest benefit of the doubt?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Meredith asked.
“Julia said the child would always remind her of their time together at Ashcroft House,” Great Aunt Sylvia said, her eyes clenched shut. Then she opened them. “Which was true enough. But she never said Peter was her child. Your hatred for your father clouded your judgment, not allowing you to read between the lines. Rupert was not the father. Ted Wiley was. Your own mother bore him.”
“What?” Helen said. “Impossible.” Meredith looked thunderstruck.
“Ted Wiley was the one who made his way through the hedge, right into the arms of Louise Pemberton. She didn’t leave Rupert because of his brief affair with Julia. She left him so that he would not know of her pregnancy, and returned to forgive him only after the birth. For all the love you profess for your dear mother, you murdered her only son.”
Meredith opened her mouth, ready to deny everything, but the certainty of Great Aunt Sylvia’s statement had hit her hard. Her shaking hand went to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Meredith Shipton and Helen Martindale, I am arresting you for the murder of Peter Wiley,” Inspector Grange said with a glance at Constable Carraher. “Take them away.”
“I’ll call Farnsworth,” David said, standing as the women were led away by the arm. “He’ll know what to do.” As soon as Helen was gone, he stalked off without looking at anyone.
“I’ll be back to talk to the butler and Mrs. Dudley,” the Inspector said. “We need to determine what they may have known about this affair.” With that, the inspector and two constables drove off with their three suspects, leaving Kaz and me alone with Great Aunt Sylvia, Edgar, and three very nervous staff.