Johnson’s shoulders sagged. “All right! I’ll do what I can. I’ll get the bloody boat. Hubbard will let me have his. It’s seaworthy, but you can shoot me if you want to, I won’t go with Miles. If Hubbard wants his boat back, Scotland Yard can fetch it for him!”
“Who is Hubbard?”
“He works over in the salt mill.”
“Fair enough,” Rutledge answered. “And hurry. Before there’s more on your conscience.”
Johnson caught up a coat from the rack in the hall, and with a bitter glance at Rutledge, he left.
Someone was coming down the hall. Rutledge turned quickly, expecting trouble. But it was Sally, Johnson’s daughter. “You shouldn’t ought to have done that,” she said, glaring at him. “My father is a good man.”
“He looks the other way, when he doesn’t want trouble. Ask Lady Benton, who watched a ghost try her door.”
“Dad said my uncle had been drinking—they meant no harm. It was a lark!”
“He never spoke up afterward, when it appeared there was a real murder. He never spoke up when Liz was tormented by the other women at The Salt Cellar. He did nothing to protect her from their taunts.”
It was harsh, he could already hear Hamish objecting to what he’d said. But he was angry still. “Mrs. Lowell wouldn’t have been killed, if your father had spoken up.”
“That man is only his half-brother. Dad isn’t his keeper. How was he to know? Besides, why can’t Lady Benton look after herself?”
He turned on his heel and left, shutting the door behind him.
Rutledge went as far as the turning to the harbor, to be certain Johnson had kept his word. And he saw him in a distance, speaking to another man.
He hurried back up the road, to the Hailey house, stopping well out of range, and searched the darkness at the window for Franklin. But he wasn’t visible. On the far side of the house, well up the street and out of range, Hamilton was arguing with one of his Constables.
Watching the window for a moment, Rutledge called, “Reed? Are you there?”
There was silence. And then he saw Lady Benton at the window. There was enough light now to see the red mark on one side of her face.
“What is it you want, Inspector? Reed refuses to come to the window. He saw the rifle.”
“Yes, well, it was German and there are no cartridges for it. A war souvenir.” He moved forward a little. Bruce was still under the tree, on his feet now as he heard Lady Benton’s voice. “I had a word with Bill Johnson. He’s at the harbor, speaking to someone by the name of Hubbard. The man has a seaworthy boat. If Reed will agree, I will offer safe passage to France. Or Belgium, if he prefers. He can use you and Mrs. Hailey as shields as far as the harbor. I give him my word, he can take the boat and leave. From the moment he releases the two of you unharmed, he has safe passage. No one will touch him. If he harms either one of you, I shall withdraw my offer, and he’s fair game.”
She disappeared from sight, and he hoped she was relaying the message to Reed, if he hadn’t heard it for himself.
After several minutes, she returned to the window.
“He says, as soon as he leaves this house, the man with that rifle will use it.”
“As proof of my good will, I’ll see to that now.”
And he walked up the street to where Hamilton was standing, listening.
Hamilton said at once, “Damn it, Rutledge, I never agreed to any such offer.”
“I outrank you. Where’s the rifle?”
Brown stepped forward. “I’m sorry, sir. My fault he saw it.” He held out the covered weapon.
Rutledge removed the sheet. “Thank you. You’ll have it back shortly.”
He turned, walked back toward the house, ignoring Hamilton’s arguments. When he’d approached close enough for Franklin to see what he was holding, he stopped.
“As promised,” he called. And bending down, he laid the rifle in the street, in plain view. That done, he walked back to where he’d been standing earlier.
“Will you honor my offer?” he called then.
There was silence from the house. Rutledge was beginning to think that it was no more than a trick on Franklin’s part to take the rifle out of play.
And then Lady Benton came back to the window. “I’m to tell you, escaping in the boat, he’s got only the clothes he stands in, and no money. A hundred pounds.”
Damn the man!
“I will agree to one hundred pounds. Yes, all right. But it will take some time to raise that sum. Will he give me his word that nothing will happen to you or Mrs. Hailey while I am collecting it?”
She turned, listened to something, and then she turned back. “He has agreed. And he wants medical supplies and a bottle of Johnson’s best whisky in the boat, waiting.”
“He’ll get those handed to him when he releases you and Mrs. Hailey. Along with the money.”
Another conference.
“Yes. All right.”
“In exchange, I want to see both of you at the window. Now. Otherwise, the offer is withdrawn.”
Mrs. Hailey joined Lady Benton at the window.
“Have you been hurt?” Rutledge called.
Mrs. Hailey answered for them. “No. Not so far.”
“I expect to hear the same when I return at noon.” And he walked away without looking back. He could hear Hamilton shouting at him, but ignored it.
Hubbard was a thickset man with straw-colored hair. Rutledge had trouble convincing him that the boat would be returned to him. “If I must travel to France myself to retrieve it,” he promised.
Wister supplied the medical bag, and a bottle of his own whisky, bringing them down to the harbor himself.
Rutledge took both and set them in the road some distance from the rifle. And then went to find Hamilton. As the light began to brighten he could see, at some distance to the Hailey house, a gathering crowd of watchers. Waiting for whatever was going to happen. One of the Constables was keeping them from coming nearer.
The Inspector was seething. “I didn’t expect Scotland Yard to let a killer walk away.”
“It has to be done. He meant what he said about what he’d do to the women. Are you prepared for the repercussions of that?”
“It’s my patch, damn it. You should have conferred with me.”
“He’s a killer, Hamilton. Now, where do we find the money he’s asked for?”
In the end, they borrowed it from the hotel.
At eleven o’clock, Rutledge carried a bowl of water to the dog tethered to the tree, then went back to the road.
“We have collected most of the money,” he called. “It won’t take too much longer to find the rest. You can see for yourself the bandages, salves, and something for the pain. A bottle of whisky. As promised. When you are ready to come out, Constable Brown will take them up and carry them to the boat. Once I have all the money, I’ll bring it here, then count it while you watch me. When you’re satisfied, I’ll add it to the medical bag, while you watch. Do we still have an agreement?”
There was silence from the house.
Without waiting for an answer, he walked away.
It was all set in motion, he thought as he went back to the harbor to be sure the boat was waiting. Then he took Johnson by the arm and marched him up the hill to where the medical sack and bottle of whisky stood.