Page 69 of Murder in Moonlight
“Of course they did! It was why they took me on, because of my brother! Afterward, they seemed to think they were very magnanimous, doing me a special kindness by keeping me on when they had dismissed him without notice or character.”
“So you punished them in your own way,” Flynn said, understanding, even sympathy, creeping into his voice.
Richards grimaced. “In very small ways.”
“So when did these small punishments progress to murder?” Flynn asked.
Richards’s gaze flew to his face. “They didn’t!” he said.
“Of course they did,” Harris said contemptuously. “You even tried to cast the blame for the murder on Mrs. Bolton. It was you who put her handkerchief in his hand, wasn’t it?”
Richards closed his eyes. He nodded, his mouth curving down in misery. “I had it in my pocket. I’d been going to leave it in the mistress’s bed that evening, only I never got the chance. So when my duties were done, I went outside instead to see who was creeping around—I knew someone was. I almost fell over hisbody. I couldn’t quite believe it. I wasn’t the only one who hated him.”
“You’re telling us he was already dead when you just happened to fall over him?” Harris said sarcastically. “It must have been like Piccadilly Circus in that part of the garden.”
“Busier than you know,” Richards retorted with a spurt of anger. “I heard someone else coming—two people, in fact, judging by the whispering. So I stuffed Mrs. Bolton’s handkerchief into Mr. Winsom’s hand and bolted. It was my last chance to discredit him in public, and had the added bonus of hurting both the Boltons at the same time.”
“You wanted her to hang for a murder she hadn’t committed?” Solomon said.
Richards smiled tiredly. “Frankly, yes. At best, I didn’t care. My brother died in disgrace too, didn’t he? And you needn’t look so righteous either, Mr. Grey. It was you and her I saw creeping around when I ran off.”
“Indeed?” Harris said with blatant disbelief. “And you imagine that is a more believable story than the denials you’ve given us before?”
“It’s the truth,” Richards said defiantly.
“You were at the scene by your own admission,” Flynn pointed out.
“But he was already dead,” Richards insisted. “And I had no reason to kill him when he was already suffering, had I? Can’t you see that? Why would I bother with all this”—he waved his hand at the purloined items on the desk—“if I meant to stick a knife in his back?”
“Are you sorry he’s dead?” Harris asked, switching tack.
Richards drew a shuddering breath. He glanced at Constance, then away again. “Truthfully, no, I’m not. I’d never have forgiven him for what he did. But neither would I stick a knife in his back and give them something to hang me for.”
He had a point, Constance reflected. Why would he continue with the petty punishments if he simply meant to do away with the man?
“Did Winsom find you out?” Solomon asked.
“Him?” Richards scoffed. “He never looked further than himself.”
Solomon glanced at Constance. He didn’t think Richards was the killer. Constance didn’t think so either. They both looked at Harris.
“I don’t think it was Richards,” Solomon said. “The body wasn’t quite that newly dead.”
“You an expert on the newly dead and those who’ve been dead five or ten minutes?” Harris growled.
“I’ve had cause to notice. But more than that, we’d surely have heard something, even the thud of his body falling. We didn’t. And besides, he’s right. The other punishment makes no sense if he planned to kill Walter anyway.”
“You could have done both,” Harris said to the butler. “I don’t put it past you. But for the moment, I won’t charge you. You can go back to your duties.”
Richards laughed shakily. “Oh, I think I’ve just effectively resigned, don’t you? Better than dismissal, of course.”
Harris curled his lip. “You might even threaten a character out of them with what you know. And if I get even a whiff of that, you’re clapped up again before you can turn round.”
“Well,” Constance said brightly, “back to the beginning. If it wasn’t Richards, whodidkill him? Who do you think it was, Richards?”
“Mrs. Bolton,” the butler said without the slightest hesitation. “Why do you think I left her handkerchief?”
“You’ve just told us it was to incriminate her,” Solomon said. “Because her husband was equally responsible for your brother’s dismissal.”
