The Problem at Two Tithes (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 7) (25 page)

Inspector Jameson stepped forward.

‘Mr. Norris, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Thomas Tipping,’ he said. ‘I must inform you that anything you say may be taken down and used as evidence.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Norris impatiently. ‘Shall we go?’

After his triumph in single-handedly bringing Andrew Norris to justice for murder (as set out at length in ornamental and self-congratulatory prose on pages four and five of Monday’s edition of the
Herald
), Corky Beckwith had the presence of mind to slip back to London before Freddy could carry out his threat to commit violence upon him, there to bask insufferably in his own glory and dine out on his success in the Banford Green case. To listen to him, no-one would have supposed that he had by mere good fortune avoided causing a disaster by interfering in the investigation and forewarning the accused of the police’s suspicions; on the contrary, according to Corky he had pretty much solved the whole mystery himself and performed the arrest without the police’s actually being present. His stories for the subsequent week or so contained many heavy hints as to the incompetence of the police and certain well-known lady detectives, and from his pen much rhetorical oratory issued forth, furthermore, on the parlous state of some sections of the popular press (the
Herald
excluded, naturally) and their inability to report the news that
really
mattered.

After the arrest, Freddy was rather grumpy for a few days, since he felt bound to stick to the truth—or at least some semblance of it, always allowing for the demands of his editor and his readers. Since he could with some justification claim to have helped solve the murder, it stuck in his throat to see Corky taking the credit, even though it was hardly the first time he had done it. Still, Freddy consoled himself with the thought that, unlike Corky, at least
he
had the advantage of a friend in the police, and that
his
stories at least contained solid facts rather than mere vainglorious boasting. And, of course, there was the ever-present and tremendously comforting knowledge that, however many scrapes Freddy might get into, he could never possibly be quite such an ass as Corky. He very soon returned to his normal cheerful self, therefore, and went back up to town to retrieve his dinner-suit from the fire and resume his duties as detached observer of the London season with no more than a slight shudder.

The police, meanwhile, who were somewhat embarrassed at having arrested the real murderer immediately only to let him go again, lost no time in releasing Norman Tipping and Kathie Montgomery. Kathie was overjoyed to be reunited with Peter, for she had been far more worried for him than for herself, and their reunion was most affecting. She took him home immediately and promised him another week off school, and Humphrey valiantly kept his mouth shut on this occasion and made no mention of school fees. Norman Tipping, on the other hand, was in a less cheerful frame of mind following his release. He had been most indignant at his arrest, and said one or two things about taking action of some sort against the police. In the end, he did nothing, perhaps realizing what a lucky escape he had had—and perhaps also taking into consideration the fact that, following his father’s death, he was now set to inherit enough money to pay his debt to Irish Jimmy. Resolving to learn his lesson, Norman vowed to himself that he should give up gambling altogether, and was half-minded to cancel delivery of the
Sporting Life—
but after giving it some thought, he decided that there was no need to take such desperate measures, and that he was perfectly capable of betting on a horse now and again without getting into trouble. Norman’s mother Margaret welcomed him home with her usual lack of emotion, and—as at any time—nobody could have said what she was feeling on the occasion. Many in the village wondered how she would get on without her husband, but this question was very shortly answered when it was reported that she had been to Cook’s and taken herself off on an organized tour of Egypt for a month. As Andrew Norris had foretold, she said not a word about her thoughts on the subject of Norris’s guilt—or indeed her thoughts on anything to do with the case, and so these can only be surmised.

The day after Kathie’s return home, she and Angela went to visit Mrs. Hunter at that lady’s invitation. The vicar’s wife was tremendously excited at the events of the past few days, and was eager to hear all the latest news and dispense her own words of wisdom on the subject.

‘And so I need not come and visit you in gaol after all,’ she said to Kathie. ‘I had quite begun to think that I should have to adopt you as one of my charity cases. You ought to be thankful, my dear: prison would have done nothing for those pretty looks of yours, and of course nobody would have wanted to marry you after you came out. You’d have been doomed to spend the rest of your life alone and unwanted. Now things are quite as they were—and if you’ll take my advice, I’d set the wedding date as soon as possible, before Norman spends all his father’s money and becomes a poor prospect—for, let us be frank about it, he has little enough to recommend him besides his financial standing, now, does he?’ Having carelessly dealt this devastating blow to the appearance, personality and rectitude of Norman Tipping, as well as to the motives and sincerity of Kathie with respect to the institution of matrimony, she beamed. ‘Oh, but I
am
glad you’re out,’ she said. She then turned to Angela. ‘And so you really did solve the mystery! I thought that young man was joking when he said you were known for your detective abilities. Well, I must say, if it’s all true then you are
much
cleverer than you look. I should never have thought it myself. Tell me, are you staying here much longer? I imagine you and Lady Cardew must be quite sick of each other by now.’

‘I am going back to London tomorrow,’ said Angela.

‘Ah, then I’ve no doubt we’ll see you again for the wedding,’ said Mrs. Hunter, with all the satisfaction of one who had arranged the thing herself.

‘Is there going to be a wedding?’ said Angela to Kathie as they walked up Church Lane afterwards on the way to Two Tithes.

‘No, there isn’t,’ said Kathie firmly. ‘I’ve had plenty of time to think lately, what with one thing and another, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I was rather letting other people make my decisions for me—I don’t know why. Perhaps because it was easier, and saved me from having to face the truth myself.’

‘You don’t love Norman,’ said Angela.

‘Not in the least,’ said Kathie. ‘I know everyone would like to see me settled again, and for a while I half-thought it wouldn’t matter that I didn’t love him, but—’ she paused and looked down. ‘Now I realize it does.’

‘I see,’ said Angela.

‘Peter and I will do perfectly well on our own,’ said Kathie more cheerfully. ‘After all, we’ve managed up to now. And why does everyone think I ought to have a husband?’

‘Why indeed?’ said Angela.

‘I don’t believe I need one at all. You do well enough without yours, don’t you?’ said Kathie.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Angela with some sincerity. They were now at the head of Church Lane and she glanced up, then said quickly, ‘Oh, I’ve just remembered: I promised to go into the village and buy some—er—onions for Elisabeth. Do go on—I’ll catch you up.’

‘Onions?’ said Kathie in surprise, but Angela had hurried off. Kathie was about to continue on her way when she spotted what Angela had seen before her: Inspector Jameson standing by his motor-car, writing in his notebook. He saw her at the same time and stiffened.

‘Hallo, Mrs. Montgomery,’ he said formally as she approached, and then, since it would have looked odd not to mention it, went on, ‘I’m glad they released you and Mr. Tipping so quickly. I hope you were well treated.’

‘Yes, I was, thank you,’ said Kathie. ‘They were very kind in the circumstances.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ he said.

‘I suppose you are going back to London now,’ she said.

‘Yes. I only came down to write a report for Sergeant Primm, but I’m wanted back at Scotland Yard shortly,’ he said.

They stood for a moment in awkward silence, then he smiled stiffly and turned to open the car door.

‘I hope you don’t think I blame you for what happened,’ she said suddenly.

He turned back.

‘How could you not blame me, when it was all my doing?’ he said, and she saw pain in his eyes.

‘Because you were doing your duty,’ she said. ‘The evidence pointed to Norman and me and so of course the police had to arrest us. It really wasn’t very long, you know—not much more than a day and a half, all told. They let us go as soon as you found the real culprit.’

‘I’m afraid that was all thanks to Angela Marchmont,’ he said bitterly. ‘I had nothing to do with it. I ran back to London with my tail between my legs when I ought to have stayed here and looked into the thing properly, for—for your sake, and for Mr. Tipping’s. If I had, then I’m certain this could all have been avoided and you would never have been arrested in the first place. I don’t think I shall ever forgive myself.’

‘I’m sorry you feel like that,’ she said, ‘but really, there’s nothing to forgive.’ She moved a little closer, and he looked into her face and saw that she was smiling. ‘Perhaps I ought to ask
you
to forgive
me
, since I seem to have made you feel so terribly bad about things.’

‘You could never make me feel bad about anything,’ he said quickly. He recollected himself and said, ‘I had better go.’

‘You seem rather anxious to get away from me,’ said Kathie, ‘and I don’t quite understand it. Is it something I’ve done?’

‘No, it’s nothing you’ve done,’ he said.

‘I’m glad of that,’ she said. ‘You see, I rather thought you—liked me.’

‘Of course I like you,’ he said crossly. ‘I fell hopelessly in love with you the moment I first laid eyes on you, and the thought of you belonging to someone else has been tearing me apart ever since.’

‘Oh!’ she said, in momentary surprise. ‘Is
that
why you’re going away?’

‘Yes. Why did you think I was going?’ he said.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’m not used to this sort of thing, you see—falling in love, I mean. Of course, I loved Peter’s father, but it was all such a long time ago, and I’m fairly sure it was all very simple then.’

‘It’s simple enough now,’ he said. ‘You’re engaged to someone else—or as good as—and so I shall leave you to it and wish you all the best.’

‘But I’m not,’ she said. ‘I’m not engaged. Norman has never asked me—and besides, how could I possibly marry him? I couldn’t, not after what’s happened.’

‘But everyone knows he’s innocent now,’ said Jameson. ‘There’s nothing to stop you.’

‘I wasn’t talking about the murder,’ said Kathie quietly.

They stared at one another for a moment, and a dim light of hope began to flicker in Jameson’s breast.

‘Are you really in love with me?’ went on Kathie. ‘I mean,
really
in love? You don’t think it’s a sort of temporary madness, or something like that?’

‘Not as far as I’m aware,’ he said. ‘Do I seem mad to you?’

‘No, but I’ve been wondering whether I am,’ said Kathie. ‘I was going along quite happily—or so I believed—but then
you
came, and something happened and I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and then you nearly kissed me and I wished so terribly much that you had, and I thought that perhaps all the confusion over Tom’s death had made me lose my head somehow. Don’t you think it’s the same with you?’

‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘I’m a detective. I investigate this sort of thing every day. You don’t think I fall in love with everyone I meet, do you? Why, if I did that, they’d have to lock me up.’

‘I suppose they would,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that. Then perhaps I’m not mad—perhaps it is real after all.’

‘You don’t mean to say you feel the same way?’ he said.

‘Why, I rather think I do,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it absurd?’

She laughed with sudden delight, and he gazed at her, momentarily dumbfounded. He could not quite believe what he had heard. Without thinking he caught up her hand.

‘Are you sure you’re not going to marry Norman?’ he managed at last.

‘Quite sure,’ she said firmly.

‘Good,’ he said before he could stop himself. ‘Then you can marry me instead.’

She drew in her breath, and he was suddenly filled with self-doubt.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s a ridiculous thing to ask. Why, you hardly know me.’

He made to let go of her hand but she would not let him. She was shaking her head.

‘Yes, it
is
ridiculous,’ she said. ‘It’s ridiculous that I should feel so happy after all that’s occurred this week, but I do and I can’t help it. I still can’t explain what’s happened to me, but I do know it’s because of you and I don’t want the feeling to stop. Please don’t say we hardly know each other. It’s only been a few days, but somehow I feel as though I’ve known you forever. I felt it as soon as we met, truly I did. Yes, of course I’ll marry you.’

‘Darling Kathie, are you sure? I realize I’ve rather sprung it on you.’

‘Yes,’ she said, half-laughing and half-crying. ‘You have, haven’t you? It’s completely absurd, and yet I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.’

Then somehow she was in his arms and he was gazing into those bright blue eyes of hers, which bewitched him and invited him so irresistibly that he could not help kissing her, as he had so nearly done the other day. He apologized immediately—for after all, the whole thing
had
been rather sudden—and she said it was quite all right and he might do it again if he liked, so he did. A few minutes passed, then she said they were making rather an exhibition of themselves and perhaps they ought to stop. Besides, she was sure he wasn’t supposed to do this sort of thing while on duty, and wasn’t he meant to be getting back to London? At that he glanced at his watch and saw that he was late again, and so he let go of her reluctantly and opened the car door.

‘You must go, or you’ll get into trouble,’ she said when he showed signs of hesitation. ‘Please don’t stay away too long, though, or I might start to think I dreamed all this.’