Were they? I thought. Someone had come out of the French doors and stalked off into the night and that somebody looked remarkably like Terrence himself. But then why would he take the trouble to put the idea into their heads if he was responsible? Why not insist that it was an accident?
I moved closer to Daniel. “You heard that, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Interesting. Do you think they were referring to the death of the child or was there perhaps another occasion we don’t know about? When we get back I’ll look into—”
“Ah, Captain and Mrs. Sullivan.” Chief Prescott appeared around the side of the house just as we stepped out of the front door. “I know the family members have indicated that they would like you out of their hair as soon as possible, but please don’t plan to leave just yet.”
“So you think you might need my help after all?” Daniel said. “Or are we the prime suspects?”
I tried not to smile.
“Of course not. Nothing of the kind. It’s just that—I’d rather everyone stayed in place until we’ve conducted a thorough investigation—as a matter of principle, you understand.”
“Oh, yes. We understand very well, don’t we, Molly?” Daniel said. “We’ll be at the guest cottage if you need us, Prescott. If not, we may be lurking at the top of the cliff, or snooping around. Come, my dear.”
We did not wait for his reply.
* * *
I tried to put Daniel back to bed when we reached the cottage but he was having none of it. I suppose a possible murder for a detective is like the scent of a fox to a hound.
“I’d dearly like to get a look at that body for myself before they go and spoil things,” he said, pacing to the window and back. “They have probably moved everything and destroyed every clue by now.”
“I don’t think that police chief would welcome you with open arms.” I put my hand fondly on his shoulder. “We are under suspicion, remember.”
“Damned fools,” Daniel muttered.
“I could go and look,” I said. “An inquisitive woman is not seen as a threat.”
“You’re a threat to that housekeeper,” he said with a grin. “It was you she was glaring at when she launched into her tirade about suspicious people arriving out of the blue.”
“That’s because she caught me snooping around the passage behind the kitchen when I went to see if I could find a chicken for you. I opened a door and found her on the other side of it. I can’t tell you which of us was more startled.”
“Why was that, I wonder?” Daniel said. “I suppose she was used to having the servants’ quarters to herself.”
“No, it was more than that. She looked—well, shocked, scared.”
“Guilty, maybe?” Daniel suggested.
“Possibly.”
“Then she was up to something she shouldn’t have been doing. I wonder if that door led to the butler’s pantry or the wine cellar and she’d been helping herself to a tipple?”
I smiled almost in relief. It could have been something as petty and simple as this that had turned her against me. She was afraid of being reported to the master and losing her position. Daniel started coughing again.
“Come on,” I said to him. “Back to bed, young man. I’ll bring you up tea and a boiled egg.”
“I may grow used to this,” Daniel said as he headed for the stairs. “Breakfast in bed every day, a wife who attends to my every need. Yes, marriage may prove most satisfactory.” But the sentence finished in a barked cough. I looked at him with concern.
“For the love of Mike go to bed and stop talking. It’s doing you no good to keep coughing like this. You take it easy and I’ll be up with the food.”
“I wish I could take it easy,” Daniel said. “But I’m itching to be out there taking a look at that body before they cart it away. I know that little oaf is going to make a mess of the investigation.”
“No you don’t,” I said. “For all we know he might be a first-class detective. Looks can be deceiving, you know.”
“Not in his case,” Daniel growled. “Any first-class detective would welcome outside expertise, especially in the form of a man from New York. He jumped a mile when he thought I might be stepping on his toes.”
“You did rather try to take over his investigation,” I pointed out.
“What if I did? It hadn’t even occurred to him that we might be dealing with foul play here, or at the very least that someone assisted him in falling over that cliff.”
“We don’t know it is any more than an accident,” I said. “We only have their word that he wasn’t likely to be near the cliffs in the dark. What if he made a point of checking out his estate each time he arrived here? And besides, how would you or anyone prove it if he were a victim of a crime?”