Page 73 of All of Us Murderers
“But the roads are shocking and we might well get lost. And there’s a lot of Dartmoor and it’s awfully cold at night.”
“It would be much the best to get whoever comes to take us to town. So we’ll need to seize the opportunity when it arises, which means being ready to go. Keep anything you can’t leave in your satchel. Money, manuscript. Rosary.”
“Yes, Mr. Grey.”
Gideon kissed him, hard and deep. “All right, I must get ready to deal with your monster of a cousin. Oh God. We can do this. Face the day.”
He’d used to say that on the weekday mornings they woke up together, when Zeb lay in bed whimpering about how much he didn’t want to go to work. Zeb had always thought sourly how nice it must be to have such energy and dedication. He’d never wondered if Gideon had been exhorting himself too.
Gideon rolled out of bed, donned his evening trousers, and made a run for it with the rest of his clothing. Zeb lay back a moment, luxuriating in the warm bed and the mild stickiness.
That didn’t last long, because of all the other thoughts crowding his brain. Elise, and Rachel. Colonel Dash. Jessamine.
He hadn’t told Gideon about Elise’s suspicion of Jessamine; she had entirely slipped his mind what with one thing and another. They would need to discuss it at some point, because if Elise had been wrong and Jessamine was an innocent girl, Zeb could not possibly leave her in this hellish place where hergrandmother had been confined, and trapped, and died.
He should dress, he realised. He therefore lay there for another twenty minutes or so before he finally forced himself up and went to look out of the window, since the grey light was finally making a lacklustre effort at daytime.
What he saw made him catch his breath, because it was trees. The mist had lifted.
Zeb felt a thump of excitement. Wynn couldn’t possibly maintain the pretence of being cut off from the world any longer. They were going to get out of here.
He hurried to ready himself, then headed out for breakfast. When he reached the top of the stairs, he paused, looking down the steep, sharp-edged stone steps. It was hardly surprising Elise’s fall had broken her neck.
Three corridors came on to the landing from different directions. Anyone staying in the house might easily have come from their room at the same time. Had they simply seen her and taken advantage of the opportunity, or had they waited quietly, with intent, until a chance presented itself?
He imagined her last moments—pausing, looking down, perhaps planning her grand entrance and considering how she intended to ruin Hawley or Bram or both. Maybe exchanging words with someone who had emerged onto the landing to join her? And then the hands on her back, the sharp push, the fall.
Zeb shuddered convulsively, put his shoulders to the wall, and made his way down the stairs crabwise. Call him paranoiacbut he wasn’t turning his back on anyone today.
The breakfast room was populated only by Gideon, which was welcome, and Wynn, which wasn’t.
“Ah, Zebedee,” Wynn said. “Good morning. If one can say as much, with poor Elise.” He shook his head sadly. “I suppose you have seen the mist has lifted. I have sent the car to town—”
“You’ve sent it?” Zeb demanded. “It’s already left?”
“At the first hint of dawn. It was the only possible course with a death—I suppose we must call it an unnatural death—in the house. I expect the motor back with Dr. Rudyard and perhaps the police by noon.”
“Oh. Good.” Zeb felt slightly off-balance at this unsought capitulation and the idea that Wynn was summoning the police himself. Perhaps there was no law against driving people to murder. Perhaps he was trying to put himself in the right. Perhaps Zeb had somehow been wrong about this whole bizarre sequence of events and Wynn had done nothing wrong at all.
He glanced at Gideon, who gave him the barest fraction of an eye-roll.
“That’s excellent,” he added, heading for the chafing dishes. “Making sure everything is dealt with properly, I mean.”
“Oh, I will,” Wynn said. “We must discover how she came to have that terrible accident. A woman of so much poise—it is hard to imagine how she could have slipped and fallen. I dare say the police will have many questions for the family.”
Well, that hadn’t taken long. Zeb glared at the sausages. Wynn went on, “I must ask you all to remain until that has beenthoroughly resolved.”
“Surely Mr. Zeb need not,” Gideon said. “The three of us were together in the drawing room with Miss Jessamine when Mrs. Bram fell, so he can have nothing to offer in evidence.”
Wynn’s face hardened slightly. Zeb hastily put in, “I suppose when the doctor comes, he’ll be seeing Colonel Dash.”
“I could not say if Dash will want to see him,” Wynn said. “He has expressed the strongest disinclination to see anyone; he prefers to recover from his fit in peace. But I shall certainly ask. Poor Dash. Poor Elise. It seems that suffering is coming to us all. I wonder who it will strike next?”
Zeb had piled his plate with toast and bacon and added a boiled egg to fuel him for their escape. Somehow, he wasn’t hungry any more.
Twenty
Gideon went off shortly after that, presumably to go about finding out what he could, as well as to pack. Zeb had packed his things, such as they were, before coming down to breakfast. Hopefully, the doctor would have the space to take the bags while giving them a lift to town. If not, Zeb would happily abandon his luggage as the price of departure.