Dead Ground in Between (18 page)

Tyler interrupted her. “Let me tell him, Miss Walpole.”

Angelo said something in Italian to Edie, who nodded at him and replied also in Italian.

“Let's speak English, if you don't mind,” said Tyler.

“He simply asked me why I was here as well, and I said I'd help interpret.”

Tyler caught an almost imperceptible shake of the head from Agnes. That was not what the exchange had been about.

“Why don't we sit down, take the weight off our feet,” said Tyler, and he walked over and sat on one of the hay bales. Mortimer took the one next to him. Slowly Angelo went to a bale facing them and perched on the edge. Edie hesitated, then walked over and sat beside him. She left a distance between them, but her deliberate casualness was a dead giveaway.

Lord help us. I'll bet they've slept together. And that could create a huge problem for both of them
.

There was a lantern hanging on a beam close to where the Italian was sitting. Tyler could see him clearly, and it was obvious the young man was extremely apprehensive.

“The reason I have come to speak to you again, Private Iaquinta, is because there has been a new development in the case of Mr. Cartwright's death.” Tyler paused. “All right so far? Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Angelo nodded.
“Si. Capisco.”

“The coroner, er, the doctor, has discovered that Mr. Cartwright was in fact stabbed…”

Angelo was looking bewildered.

Edie interrupted. “You're speaking too quickly, Inspector. His English is good but you have to speak slowly.”

“Miss Walpole, please. I shall have to ask you to leave if you interrupt again,” said Tyler. “Angelo seems to understand quite well.”

She subsided but it was obviously difficult for her. Tyler turned back to the Italian and mimed plunging a knife into a body.

“Stabbed. Mr. Cartwright was
stabio
.”

Tyler thought the young man was genuinely shocked.

“That is truthfully a very bad thing. What was the occurrence?”

“That is what I intend to find out. You told me yesterday that you didn't see Mr. Cartwright, senior, after you came in here for the night.”

“
Si
. Er, I mean, no.” He put his hands together against his cheek. “I sleep.”

Tyler paused. “According to Mr. John Cartwright, when he came to fetch you for breakfast the door to this barn was not barred. Can you explain why that was the case?”

Angelo stiffened. “No, I cannot.”

“Did you by any chance have a visitor during the night?”

“Visitor? No, of course not. I sleep.” He repeated the hand gesture. “I have the sleep of the justified.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler could see that Edie was clutching so hard at the side of the hay bale her knuckles were white.

“Right. I wondered if old Mr. Cartwright himself might have come in here. Perhaps you had an argument? He could get confused. Perhaps he attacked you? You defended yourself. He left –”

“No. No. No fight. Never with man with no weapon.”

Angelo slumped forward. He uttered something in Italian. Edie responded immediately, speaking in the same language. Her Italian was stumbling but she seemed able to make herself understood. Angelo shook his head at her.

“Miss Walpole,” said Tyler, “I would like Private Iaquinta himself to respond.” He turned to the Italian. “Did you understand what I said?”

“
Si
.”

“I'll ask you again. Did you have anything to do with Mr. Cartwright's death?”

His face full of misery, Angelo looked up at Tyler. “No, sir. I did not. I swear to my honour, I did not.”

“Do you own a knife?”

“No. Not allowed to us.”

“Did Mr. Cartwright come into the barn during the night?”

Angelo didn't respond.

“Answer, please.”

Angelo stared back at the ground. Edie's expression was agonized.

“Private Iaquinta! Did Jasper Cartwright enter the barn yesterday?”

“Yes, sir,” the Italian said in a low voice. “Yes, he did.”

Tyler let that revelation sink in. Edie had turned her face away and he could see she was trembling. He stood up and took a few paces from the young man, then turned to him.

“At what time did Mr. Cartwright enter the barn?”

“I am not sure of it but it was very early in the morning. Not yet dawn.”

“Why didn't you admit that right away?”

“I was afraid I be blamed for something. I am the bad one, the enemy, after all.”

“I promise you won't be blamed for anything you didn't do. Please tell me what happened when Mr. Cartwright came into the barn.”

“Nothing…I swear, nothing. He was most confused. He came in. I was awakened and I called out to him. He did not answer to me. He simply turned around and left.”

“No attack?”

“None.”

“Did he say anything at all?”

“No. Nothing.”

“Perhaps he was frightened? Mistook you for an enemy?”

“No.”

“If he had mistaken you and attacked, you would have had to defend yourself. Nobody would blame you for that.”

Angelo shook his head.

“I notice you have been limping, Private Iaquinta. Is that because you were in a struggle – a fight – with Mr. Cartwright?”

“Please,
signor
. I told you, no fight. It was the pesky cow I was milking.”

Tyler let a pause drop between them. Angelo shifted on the hay bale. Edie was still staring at the placidly munching cows.

Finally, Tyler said, “Why should I believe you? It's not that hard to come across a knife on a farm. Somebody stabbed Mr. Cartwright. I only have your word that it wasn't you. There are no witnesses.”

“I am sorry, Inspector. It is utter truth. I not touch him.”

Again Edie interceded. “I can vouch for Angelo in this matter, Inspector –”

The Italian caught her by the arm. “No. I will answer.”

Their eyes met, something was communicated, and he let her go. She turned to Tyler. “What I was going to say is that I myself was present when Clover kicked him. I was here. I saw it happen.”

“And when was this, Miss Walpole?”

“Monday. It happened during the afternoon milking.”

Tyler regarded Angelo. “Did you report it to your medical officer at the camp?”

“No, no. I am very well. It is nothing of importance.”

“You understand that I will have to come to the camp and give a report about what has occurred.”

“Si.”

“One more thing. Did you notice if Mr. Cartwright had anything with him when he paid this unexpected visit?”

“What mean you?”

“Was he carrying anything? Did he leave anything behind?”

“I see nothing. It was dark. I just hear the door open I and came up from my bed to see who. I recognized it was Mr. Cartwright.”

“How did you know it was him?” Tyler interjected. “You said it was dark.”

“He was carrying a lantern, but as I have said recently, he turned around and left. It was only moments.”

“Thank you, Private Iaquinta.” Tyler stood up. “I shall drive you back to camp later. In the meantime, you'll have to come over to the farmhouse with me.”

“Si.”

“Does he have to go there?” Edie burst out. “They'll all be ready to pounce on him.”

“We don't have much choice at the moment, Miss Walpole. I'll have him remain in the parlour for now.”

“That's worse. He'll be stuck by himself, wondering what's happening.”

“No matter what he'd be stuck by himself, as you put it.”

Suddenly the girl burst into noisy sobs. “It's so stupid. It's all so stupid.”

Tyler waited a moment or two to let her cry.

“What is stupid, Miss Walpole?”

“War,” cried Edie. “This horrible war.”

“In many ways I agree with you. Regardless, I'm the representative of the law. Until Private Iaquinta is cleared of causing the death of Jasper Cartwright, he will have to be under surveillance.”

Angelo was regarding the young woman with obvious dismay. He went to reach out to her again, thought better of it, and let his hand drop to his side. Tyler could feel in his own body the young man's ache to touch the woman he was so clearly in love with.

Tyler installed Angelo in the parlour across from the sitting room. There was no lock on the door but the Italian had no way of getting out without being seen.

“Do you want something to read?” Tyler asked. “You'll be here for a while, most likely. Call if you need to use the toilet.”

“Thank you, that would be super. I would like this
Boy's Own Annual
, if you please. I was given a copy and it is teaching me super English.”

Could be worse, thought Tyler. You got language
and
very British attitudes in the
Annual
. He left the young man to peruse the pages featuring the derring-do of clever, plucky English boys.

Susan Cartwright gave him permission to take over the small “best” sitting room. John was upstairs, “paying his respects to his father,” as Susan put it. Her eyes were red from weeping. Ned Weaver was fiddling with the wireless. Crackling noises came from the set. He had stared at Angelo as Tyler led him through to the parlour but hadn't said anything.

Edie went directly to the sink. “I'll help you with the dinner, Mrs. Cartwright. Perhaps we had better make more stew, just in case.”

“That's the last of the carrots. You'll have to add more potatoes.”

Tyler left them to it and went across to the front sitting room with Constable Mortimer.

“Let's light the heater,” he said. “I'll have them put in a requisition for compensation if they need to. This is police business, and I'll be darned if I can work in subarctic conditions.”

There were folding doors that partitioned off the sitting room from the kitchen, and he left them open a crack so he could keep an eye out for any activity. He didn't want anybody else in this family going wandering.

“Did you catch what Miss Walpole was saying to Angelo?”

“She was telling him not to worry. Everything would be all right.”

“Ah, the optimism of youth. Was that all?”

“Yes, sir. Her Italian is imperfect but that was the gist of it.” She frowned. “Do you think they are having relations even though he's a prisoner of war?”

Tyler had thought it was as obvious as a newspaper headline but he had to give his young constable some leeway. She probably wasn't as experienced as he was in covert love.

“Sir?”

“What? Oh yes, of course they're having relations. I am pretty sure she was with him on Monday night. It's likely she was the one who unbarred the door. She may have forgotten to bar it again when she left.”

“Oh dear, that could put them into a lot of trouble, couldn't it?”

“Certainly could. At the very least, they'd be separated for the duration. A veritable Romeo and Juliet, those two.”

“Angelo has admitted Jasper Cartwright entered the barn. If she was there he might have seen them together?”

“He might have.”

“She seems so nice. He does too. Do you think it's likely that fear of being found out might have compelled them to silence Mr. Cartwright?”

“That's not what my gut says, Constable, but we'll keep an open mind.”

“Your gut, sir?”

“Yep. One of a policeman's most effective tools.”

She pursed her lips while she considered this. “Is that the same as a woman's intuition, sir?”

Tyler chuckled. “Probably.”

“But didn't you tell me not to let feelings cloud my judgment?”

“That's quite different. But tell me quick. What were your impressions of the meeting with the Cartwrights and company?”

Mortimer paused. “Mrs. Cartwright strikes me as a woman with a strong sense of duty. I believe she blames herself for not locking the old man in his room. If you will forgive me for being personal, sir, her marital relationship is reminiscent of that between my own parents.”

“Indeed? How so?”

“The wife wants more from the husband than he is willing or able to provide. As a result she is harbouring a lot of resentment.”

Tyler peered at her. “Very good, Constable. You're wasted on the police force with observations like that.”

Mortimer looked pleased and shy at the same time.

As for Tyler, he felt a big pinch of guilt. Mortimer might have been describing his marriage to Vera.

“What else?”

“Ned Weaver seemed anxious to direct blame toward the
POW
. Miss Walpole was equally determined to declare him above suspicion. Perhaps she needed to convince herself.”

“Very good, Mortimer, very good. I concur with your observations. Of course, if one of them was responsible for Jasper's death, he or she is a good actor.”

Mortimer gazed at him in dismay. “Oh, surely none of them is a suspect, sir? I find that hard to believe.”

“Remember what I said, Constable. Being a successful copper is finding a balance of feeling and fact. Now, chop-chop. Let's concentrate on facts. I want you and Constable Mady to go to the barn and do as thorough a search as you can.”

“Is there anything in particular I should be on the lookout for?”

“Anything untoward. Angelo says Mr. Cartwright came in and left immediately. That may or may not be the truth. He was so awkward it was hard to tell what he was dissembling about other than his relationship with Miss Walpole. But if, in fact, there was a struggle between them, you might see some evidence of it.”

“It sort of makes sense, doesn't it, sir, if Jasper went down to the barn to stash his treasure box?”

“Finding it would certainly be helpful to our investigation. Off you go then. As soon as we can, I'll have Biggs start on taking fingerprints.”