No Shred of Evidence: An Inspector Ian Rutledge Mystery by Charles Todd Page A

being. He thought it great fun to help me.” She covered her face with her hands for a moment, then dropped them to look at him. “We hadn’t heard the wind, it had come up with the end of the storm. And out in the bay, cut off from land, the Mount got the brunt of it. Certainly the sea was very rough. They couldn’t bring in the police or retrieve the body until later in the day. The fear was, it might wash away before anything could be done about it.”
    “And you believe this is why Mr. Trevose has accused your daughter and her friends of harming Harry Saunders?”
    “Of course I do,” she said impatiently. “What other reason could there be? Do you honestly think, for one moment, that those four young women are capable of trying to murder a perfectly respectable young man?”
    “Your daughter tells me he has been running into her too often to be by chance. That he has feelings for her. Or at the very least, is infatuated.”
    Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Harry Saunders? She hasn’t—” She stopped herself in midsentence. “Would you find that so strange, Mr. Rutledge? She’s a lovely girl. And he’s unmarried.”
    “Would you or your husband be willing to entertain his suit, if he came to you to ask for your daughter’s hand?”
    Her eyes gave her away before she could answer him. There was no snobbery—she really believed that the heiress to Padstow Place could do much better than a banker’s son. “We would treat his suit with every courtesy,” she said.
    “Victoria is no longer a young girl. I’m surprised she isn’t married already.”
    Mrs. Grenville shook her head. “The war. Were you in it, Mr. Rutledge? Yes, of course you were. Most of her friends never came back. Or if they did, they’re like George St. Ives, so badly wounded that they can’t expect to enjoy a normal life. I don’t think Victoria or Kate, Sara or Elaine, having seen their world change so drastically, are as eager to marry as they might have been in 1914 when all the world was a happy place.”
    Rising, she said, “I’ve kept you long enough. But I felt I had no right to say nothing when Mr. Trevose is apparently so willing to see my daughter and her guests charged with such a crime as attempted murder. Can you find your own way out? Or would you like for me to summon the maid?”
    “I can find my own way, Mrs. Grenville.” He started toward the door. “I am grateful for your confidence. But I will use it as I think best. I suggest you tell your husband what you’ve told me. Before it becomes public knowledge.”
    “I will choose my own time, Inspector.”
    He left her standing there in the middle of the room, just as he’d first seen her.
    He wouldn’t have been surprised to run into Grenville or Major Gordon as he found his way to the house door and made a dash through the rain for his motorcar.
    Once clear of the house, he considered what he’d just been told.
    Was it true? Or was there a great deal more that hadn’t been said? Either way, he came to the decision that he would say nothing until he was ready. If Trevose was out for revenge, then let him think he was successful for the time being. It would keep him out of further mischief.
    And it wouldn’t go amiss to ask Sergeant Gibson to look into the death of Paul Trevose at St. Michael’s Mount. Meanwhile, he must find out more about the Trevose family.
    And the best place for that might be the vicar, David Toup.
    He drove through the village to the vicarage, where rivulets of water had turned the drive into a muddy glue. He could hear his rear tires spin as he made his way up the slight rise to the front of the house, and then picked his way through the puddles to the door. Someone had put a hemp mat there, and he wiped his feet as best he could before knocking.
    Toup himself came to the door.
    “Mr. Rutledge. Come in, man, and bring the ark with you.”
    Laughing, Rutledge stepped inside and Toup closed the door quickly.
    “You’ll be