Page 9 of Evidence of Evil
“Frances? Charming girl. Or young woman, I should say. She must have been twenty-six or seven.”
“But never married?”
“Spent the last five years in India. I daresay her choices were limited.”
Solomon nodded, looking up through the trees to gauge how much of the area could have been seen from the house. Only the rooftop was visible. “What was her quarrel with your wife about?”
“Lord, I don’t know. Foolish women’s stuff. Don’t think they took to each other, if you know what I mean, but the idea of Elizabeth lifting a hand to any living creature, let alone killing a neighbor and family friend, is utterly preposterous.”
“That’s what Constance said.”
Those piercing blue eyes met his. “You don’t believe us?”
“I don’t think any of us are incapable of violence if the circumstances are right. And those are different for all of us. Did you know Lady Maule was going for a walk with Miss Niall that evening?”
“Yes, she called to me in the library when they went out.”
“Did you see her return?”
“Yes, she came back about twenty minutes later and said friendship was restored and Frances had gone home.”
“Did Lady Maule seem content? Her usual self?”
Maule bristled. “Entirely,” he said stiffly.
“I’m not asking to catch you—or her—out,” Solomon assured him. “It’s the sort of thing the investigation will need to know, either to prosecute or defend your wife.” He looked at the ground and the various paths that led away from the lake and began to walk on. “Did you happen to notice any footprints or other marks when you first discovered the body?”
Maule scowled. “No, I’m afraid I was too appalled, concentrating on getting poor Frances out of there.”
“Of course… Howdidyou get her out? Could you reach her from the bank?”
“No. Poor Cranston went in and pulled her over so that I could catch her and drag her up. Wasn’t easy.” His voice had gone hoarse, and his scowl almost consumed his face before he straightened it out again.
They walked on. “Can you think of any reason why anyone might have killed her?”
“None,” Maule said flatly, without hesitation, and yet for the first time, Solomon wondered if he was lying.
“She was well liked, then? Miss Niall?”
“I would say so. I never heard a word against her, not even from Elizabeth. She was beautiful, spirited, charming. Which might have caused a little envy among the ladies of the neighborhood, but hardly of the kind that leads to violence. In any case, there was no sign of violence of any kind on her body, so how Niall came to believe it was murder is beyond me.”
“Then you didn’t summon Scotland Yard because you were suspicious?”
“No, more to prove the point to Niall. The inquest was adjourned because no cause of death could be agreed.”
“Perhaps the opinion of another doctor…?”
“No need. There were two physicians present. Laing and his apprentice Harry Murray.”
“Ah.” Around the next bend, Solomon caught sight of a shed. “Do you keep boats there?”
“A couple of small rowing boats.” Maule seemed to see his point at once. “If the murderer had taken the trouble to use a boat to move the body, would he not have dropped her farther in to the middle?”
“I expect so. But I was thinking more of a boat hook. From the position you indicated, her body couldn’t have been dropped in from the bank unless it was deliberately pushed farther out.”
“We certainly have a boat hook,” Maule said, increasing his pace even more.
The hook was easily located in the first left-hand corner of the shed.
