Free Cheating the Hangman by Judith Cutler Page B

Edmund wished simply to defend Jem or actually agreed with his theory I could not say.
    ‘But that was disbanded fifty years ago!’ Toone exclaimed. ‘We live in different times now.’
    ‘Of course.’ Hansard bowed. ‘But in the absence of a village constable to investigate the crime—’
    ‘And what would a mere chawbacon do anyway?’
    Hansard ignored the interruption. ‘It is incumbent on us to explain fully to both Hasbury and Wychboldexactly what we have been doing. You, Campion, alerted Wychbold to the situation immediately, did you not, but he has shown surprisingly little interest in our activities. To be sure, I did not expect him to come himself to ensure our depredations on his ice were kept to a minimum, but I would have expected regular enquiries.’
    ‘And indeed,’ Maria added, ‘regular offers of refreshment. He was not to know that I sent you off well provided for.’
    Maria could not know that none of us had been able to eat a crumb. Not even Toone, who had shamefacedly admitted that he felt unable to touch bread with a hand so tainted by his work. Moreover, he had spent as much time as Hansard and me cleansing himself of the nauseating odours. The good food we had handed over, still in its basket, to the workers come to consign the corpse to the rough coffin made by Lord Hasbury’s men and carry it to St Jude’s for burial. Needless to say, Edmund bade them make vigorous and immediate use of the village pump before they touched any.
    ‘Indeed not,’ I said tactfully. ‘So it seems to me that in all courtesy we should pay a morning call to apprise him of the latest developments.’
    ‘In other words, to question him. Excellent. Now, I really feel that we gentlemen have earned a glass of my favourite brandy. It was a present from a grateful patient so I cannot tell whether duty was ever paid on it, I fear.’ He rang for Burns, who returned with the decanter and glasses, and, without being asked, another glass of champagne for Maria.
    It was she who, contemplating the pretty play ofbubbles, asked, ‘How came Mr Snowdon to know of your need of assistance? He arrived remarkably swiftly after you wrote to Hasbury and Wychbold. I wonder which of them suggested he came.’
    Burns, who had been attending the fire, made almost visible attempts not to eavesdrop.
    Toone, who had already downed his brandy and was waiting for Burns to offer him more, turned astounded eyes on her. ‘What the devil has that to do with anything?’
    As Burns bowed himself swiftly from the room, she permitted herself the slightest twitch of her right eyebrow, which I had seen reduce pert housemaids to tears and now brought an unlikely blush to Toone’s cheeks. Then she replied equably, ‘I know not. But as a keen student of the relations between different households in a parish, I would like to know. Which of the noble lords whom you asked for assistance is on sufficiently good terms with him or his hostess to know of his genius with a pencil? You tell me that his hostess is supposed to live a quiet life away from society, yet the talents of a guest are known. Furthermore, her acquaintance did not wait till their next meeting to reveal casually that her guest might be interested. Hasbury or Wychbold must have either told her to her face or sent a messenger with wings on his heels.’
    Jem looked merely puzzled. Toone’s frown deepened. Afraid that the brandy might talk again, I said quietly, ‘It is a question I might not be able to put directly when I see Wychbold. But as we all know, indirect questions are often more effective than a direct interrogation. Pray, Edmund,will you wish to accompany me tomorrow morning?’
    ‘I fear not. My services are already bespoken by the aristocratic toe at Orebury House. Toone, a second opinion – and some of your coloured water – might suggest how serious the present condition is. Unless, that is, you wish to resume your visit to your Stratford friends?’
    ‘They do not