Darien’s voice rose. “Now wait a minute…”
“Be quiet, Darien,” Milo said.
“Our witness told us as much this morning. A search of your room at the inn revealed a pair of boots with blood on them, an envelope of money with Albert Phipps’s name on it, and a chain worn by Mr. Phipps that was missing from the body.”
“What the devil…” Darien said.
There was the sound of footsteps as a second man came into the room, a sergeant in uniform.
Inspector Wilson’s gaze came back to me. “I’m sorry to do this here, Mrs. Ames, but it can’t be helped.”
He stepped forward, and the sergeant moved forward with him.
“Mr. Darien Ames,” Inspector Wilson said gravely. “I’m arresting you for the murder of Albert Phipps.”
14
THERE WAS ONE momentary flash of something like fear in Darien’s eyes, and then it was covered by that cheerful bravado.
“This is preposterous,” he said with a smile. “There must be some mistake.”
“I’m afraid not, sir,” replied Inspector Wilson in a tone that was almost bored. No doubt he had heard countless criminals confess their innocence upon arrest, most of them guilty beyond all doubt.
But what about Darien? Was he guilty? I found it nearly impossible to believe. Granted, I knew very little about the young man, but my instincts told me he was not a killer. I had seen something in his expression in that brief moment, the alarm and dread of a child who suddenly realizes he is lost, and my heart went out to him.
“If you’ll just come with us, sir,” the sergeant said. “Please be aware that anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence.”
He took hold of Darien’s arm.
Darien turned to Milo, his eyes flashing. “Aren’t you going to do anything?”
“What do you expect me to do?” Milo asked.
“I didn’t kill him,” he protested.
“Perhaps not. But you won’t be hanged today. There will be a trial.”
These rather cold words told him plainly what sort of help Milo was going to be, and so Darien turned to me.
His eyes locked on mine, and suddenly he looked much younger. “I didn’t kill him, Amory. You must believe me.”
And, heaven help me, in that moment, I did.
* * *
AFTER INSPECTOR WILSON and his sergeant had led the protesting Darien away, I turned to Milo. I was still half-dazed by what had happened.
“This is dreadful.”
“Yes, I’m sure Darien thinks so, too,” he replied, though he didn’t sound especially affected by the scene we had just witnessed. Indeed, it was apparent to me that he wasn’t feigning his calm. He had dropped the mask he had worn for Darien, but there was only indifference beneath it.
“What are you going to do?” I asked him, unconsciously echoing Darien’s question.
His brows rose ever so slightly. “I’m not going to do anything. As I told him, there will be a trial. It’s out of our hands.”
I stared at him, not knowing what to make of this coldness toward his brother. “Surely you don’t believe he killed Bertie.”
“He seems a perfectly logical suspect to me.”
“But … but we’ve discussed other suspects. What about Mrs. Hodges? What about the broken drawer in the vicar’s desk and the envelope that apparently had money in it?”
“None of them threatened to kill Bertie. Darien did. And the envelope was found in his possession.”
“He threatened Bertie, yes, but he didn’t mean it. You know he didn’t.”
He looked at me, and there was something hard in his gaze. “I don’t know anything about him, and neither do you. Just because he’s my brother doesn’t mean that he can’t be a killer. Indeed, in the short time we’ve known him, he’s given us a very good indication that he is coldhearted and remorseless.”
It was true that he had treated Imogen badly, but it wasn’t a fair comparison.
“That’s not the same thing, and you know it,” I protested. “Just because he’s a cad doesn’t mean he’s a murderer.”
“It’s the job of the police to sort it out.”
“Milo, he’s your brother,” I said, appealing to his better nature.
I ought to have known better.
“I met him only a week ago. Do you suppose that the very thin thread that is our father’s blood means anything to me?”
I studied him, wondering if he meant it. I knew how he felt about his father, how he had always felt about him. What was more, Milo had no hint of the sentimentalist in him.
I grasped at straws. “But you … you offered to give him money. Surely you thought he deserved something.”
“The money I offered him came from my father. Our father owed him as much. I owe him nothing.”
There was something very set about his expression that made me realize he didn’t intend to relent.
“Milo, you can’t…”
“Listen to me, Amory,” Milo interrupted. “We’re not going to get involved with this.”
“We are involved with it,” I said. “Whether you like it or not, Darien is your brother, and we can’t just wash our hands of this whole thing.”
“He has no claim on my time or my resources,” Milo said.
I didn’t know exactly how to reply. I was stunned. For some reason, Milo had already made up his mind about Darien.
I realized suddenly that something must have happened, something that had caused this bewilderingly sudden shift in his perspective, this iron resolve that I was apparently powerless against.
“What is it?” I asked at last. “Why have you turned against him?”
One dark brow rose. “The evidence isn’t enough? The bloody boot, the money, and the missing necklace found in his possession?”
I shook my head. “It’s too easy. I don’t think he’d be so foolish as to leave evidence in his room.”
He sighed. Turning, he walked to the sofa and sat down. I followed him.
“It was Ludlow’s telephone call,” he said. “He’s discovered something about our Darien.”
The pace of my heart increased at his words, and I realized in that moment how desperately I wanted Darien to be innocent. “What did he say?”
“Darien was involved in another situation like the one with Imogen. He was using his mother’s surname then, Archer. There was a young woman—a married young woman. She had a much older husband who, after she began her affair with Darien, died by falling from his horse, leaving her with a good deal of money.”
The comparison was clear enough. “You don’t think he…”
“The accident aroused suspicion, but then the young woman in question threw herself in front of a train and brought an end to the matter.”
I gasped. “How horrible.”
“Yes. So you see, things don’t look good for Darien. Even before Inspector Wilson arrived, I had my suspicions.”
“But even that isn’t proof that Darien was involved in that death,” I said. “Perhaps the woman did it and then killed herself out of guilt.”