Page 46 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
“I don’t think that’s true,” Harry said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Shepherd and the gentleman scolded Faine for being too vehement in his campaign. They wanted him to agitate, but not with such vigor. I suspect they just wanted it toappearas though Faine wanted the bridleway reopened. They didn’t actually want the campaign to succeed.”
That made more sense. “If they didn’t want him to succeed, that means they wanted the bridleway to remain closed. The question is, why?”
Harry had already thought of an answer. “We know Faine is a thief. We know valuable items went missing from the Hall.”
“You think Faine, Shepherd, and the third man stole from the Kershaws? That they’re using the bridleway to move the goods unseen across the estate and the neighboring estate, avoiding Morcombe and the police altogether? If that is the case, Faine pretending to want the bridleway reopened, means no one will suspect him of the thefts. Considering he’s known to police, that’s rather clever. If they look into the thefts, it’ll throw them off his scent.”
Harry nodded. “I agree, but…”
“What is it?”
“You won’t like my theory.”
I urged him to continue with an arch look.
“The third man in the confrontation could have been Kershaw himself,” Harry went on.
“To claim the insurance money?” I asked.
“It’s a possibility. We can’t ignore it.”
He was right, we couldn’t. But I didn’t think it was viable. I’d not seen any evidence that the Kershaws were in financial difficulty. I conceded that Lady Kershaw’s jewelry and the paintings could have been fakes, made to look like the original to fool guests, but the meals had been bountiful and there was more than enough staff in attendance.
On the other hand, Lady Kershaw hadn’t seemed upset when she noticed the silver candlesticks missing. Perhaps she was in on it, too.
Whether Kershaw was involved or not, Harry and I both agreed that the argument and the bridleway had something to do with the thefts. What I couldn’t see was the connection to the murder. I said as much to Harry as we passed Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square.
“Thieves having a falling out?” he suggested.
“The argument didn’t sound heated enough for it to escalate to murder. Anyway, Crippen said they left.”
“They could have met up again afterward, at which point it did become heated. Perhaps the man Crippen couldn’t see properly had the rifle from the armory with him. If those two men argued, Faine might have attempted to wrestle it off him, at which point it accidentally went off, killing Shepherd.”
It did fit although it seemed unlikely. The shot seemed to have been fired from a distance, otherwise Shepherd’s wound would have been much uglier.
“If that theory is correct,” I said, thinking it through, “the unidentified gentleman is neither of the two on my suspect list—Lord Kershaw and Mr. Browning. They both came from the direction of the house following the shooting.” It was still a good theory, however. It just meant our list of suspects wasn’t definitive.
“Are you busy tomorrow?” I asked Harry as we walked.
“I can always spare time for you, Cleo. Do you want to return to the village?”
“I do. Some of my suspects will be here in London, so there won’t be any risk of bumping into them in Morcombe.”
We continued to discuss the suspects until we reached the hotel. Often, at that point, Harry wouldn’t walk me all the way to the door. He would watch from across the road or further along the street. This time, he greeted Frank then entered the foyer behind me.
“Thank you, Harry,” I said.
“My pleasure.” He removed his hat and stroked the brim with his fingers. “Enjoy your evening, Cleo. Don’t let the investigation spoil your dinner.”
“Spoil it? It’ll make it more enjoyable.”
His smile faded when he spotted someone approaching behind me.
I turned to see Floyd and groaned.
