Free A Traitor's Tears by Fiona Buckley

window. Now I come to the gardeners. We could see them weeding. We also saw them finish their task, pick up some tools and a ladder they must have laid ready, and leave the garden. Mr Cobbold remarked they were probably going to deal with a tree that was becoming dangerous because of a partly broken branch that might fall on to a path – the track between the Hall and Jarvis’s cottage. He’d given orders to see to it. I have inspected the tree myself and seen where the dangerous branch was cut. To get at it, the men would have had to climb quite high. They would have had a good view of Jarvis’s cottage, and much of the path between it and the hall. You understand?’
    â€˜Yes. Please go on.’
    â€˜So the gardeners set off to attend to the tree. They agree that that is what they did. And they say that once up their ladder, they saw Mrs Cobbold starting to walk back to her home after visiting Jarvis. They also say that Jarvis then came out into his vegetable patch and started work there. Now, you see? The gardeners saw Jarvis in his garden, and he saw them up their tree. They say he didn’t follow her or anything of that kind. She reached home safely but shortly after that, she was found dead in her own garden. All that time, Jarvis and the gardeners were within sight of each other. There was trouble with the broken branch, which was awkward to get at. It took the men quite a while.’
    I was working it out for myself. ‘So Mrs Cobbold came back and went into her own garden, while Jarvis and the gardeners were all about half a mile away, close to the cottage?’
    â€˜Yes. Mr Cobbold and I saw his wife come into the garden and examine the weeded beds – I suppose to see if the work had been done properly. When I called it to his mind, he remembered well enough. I remember, too. I was with him, after all.’
    I was silent a moment, puzzling. ‘There’s no link between Jarvis and the gardeners, is there? They’re not all related to each other, or anything like that?’
    â€˜Collusion? No. One of the gardeners has been at Cobbold Hall for years. He lives in Woking. The other is a lad from the village of Priors Ford, who only came to work for the Cobbolds a couple of months ago. Jarvis has had the cottage for a couple of years and isn’t known to have any relatives at all. Certainly not the gardeners. Mr Cobbold was definite about that.’
    â€˜I see,’ I said bleakly.
    â€˜You, of course, arrived with the Ferrises and had been with them since the morning. Otherwise,’ said Sir Edward disquietingly, ‘we might have considered you as well, since you were the subject of Mrs Cobbold’s gossip. A woman could have done it – the dagger blade
was
good. With such a keen edge, it wouldn’t need a man’s strength to drive it home. But you are obviously not a possibility, unless the Ferrises were in it too, which is hardly likely, since Mrs Ferris is Mrs Cobbold’s daughter. Ha ha.’
    I had never heard him laugh before. That sudden harsh bray took me aback. He had a cruel sense of humour, I thought.
    â€˜And so,’ he said, ‘we come to Roger Brockley. Who else is there?’
    â€˜Was Brockley seen anywhere near Cobbold Hall itself?’ I demanded.
    He shook his head. ‘No. Only in Woking. But that’s near enough.’
    â€˜I sent him there to buy salt and pepper. And Woking is nowhere near enough,’ I snapped. ‘It’s all of two miles. If he wasn’t seen near Cobbold Hall, or on the road between it and Woking, you have no case against him.’ I stood up. Anger had come to my aid, taking the quiver out of my leg muscles, bracing my spine. ‘I shall approach Lord Burghley, whom I know well and who is a lawyer, for advice. I will not have my servants falsely accused!’
    â€˜I doubt very much if this accusation is false,’ said Sir Edward Heron calmly. ‘The gardeners