MURDOCH WALKED DOWN the ramp and along the path to the bend where the pond and water wheel were. His back was worse. He felt sympathy for women condemed to wear tight corsets. His entire lower back felt as if it was being held fast by whalebone. Running was impossible however much he willed himself to override the pain.
Ida’s Visitor had chosen well. This section of the greenhouse was completely secluded, the windows obscured by the lush shrubs and the entrance quite hidden by the bend in the path. A bench was at the corner. He smelled again the soft perfume of the hyacinths.
The entrance to the little hut was through a gate with a notice, WORKMEN ONLY, and a short path led to the door. Murdoch thanked God it wasn’t locked and stepped inside. The one small window must have been broken because it was partially boarded over and the interior was dark. Murdoch opened his eyes wide, willing himself to see through the gloom. After his eyes adjusted, he could see now that he was in a tool shed, with gardening implements, spades and forks, stacked around the walls. The hut was in disrepair and there were gaps in the wood slats. He could hear the splashing as each paddle of the waterwheel hit the stream rushing from the wall. By pressing his face to a space between the window boards, he could see the path but only a few feet to his left. It was too late to find another place now, but he might have attempted it if Olivia hadn’t suddenly appeared. She walked by, paused, and turned to face the way she had come. Murdoch tensed. Just as suddenly a man appeared a few feet behind her. He was fairly tall, bundled up in a long black coat. A muffler was wrapped around his neck and face and his black fedora was pulled down low.
Who was it?
Murdoch saw rather than heard Olivia greet the man. The noise of the wheel drowned out her words, but some sort of exchange went on. She was keeping the shawl wrapped around her face all this time, but she shook her head. Murdoch could see the man recoil and suddenly, he reached and yanked the shawl away from her. Olivia backed away. Murdoch knew she was talking fast to assuage him, but he looked around. He shouted and this time Murdoch could hear him.
“Who the hell are you? Where’s the other whore?”
Olivia continued to back down the path, but the man followed. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the arms and started to shake her violently. To Murdoch’s horror, Olivia went completely limp and collapsed in the man’s grip. He struggled to pull her to her feet, but he couldn’t. Murdoch had to move and he shoved open the door, yelling, “Let go of her, I’m the police.”
The man turned, saw Murdoch, and dropped Olivia to the ground. The only way out was down the path and he went to make a run for it. Olivia, however, was blocking his way and as he jumped over her apparently lifeless body, she reached up and grabbed him by the ankle. With perfect timing, she sat upright and shoved him away from her as if she were tossing a caber. He lost his balance and fell sideways against the low wall of the pond, toppling over into the water. Arms flailing, he tried desperately to stand up but the pond bed was too slippery and he couldn’t find his footing. Olivia had scrambled to her feet and Murdoch hobbled by her, stepped over the wall himself, and tried to reach her assailant. However, he too slipped off a rock and fell to his knees. The other man tried to get to his feet, but he slipped again and fell backwards. This time he landed directly in the path of the waterwheel, which was continuing its relentless turning. The edge of one of the paddles caught him on the top of the head, stunning him. Then the next paddle struck him.
And then the next.
Desperately, Murdoch reached for him and managed to grab his trouser leg, but he couldn’t move him. He called out to Olivia and she leaned over the wall and seized the man’s other leg. Together they managed to drag him away from the wheel. He was inert and the water was scarlet. He had lost his hat, the scarf was still tightly wrapped around his face, but above the scarf was only a ghastly mess of blood and bone.
Murdoch managed to get the body partly out of the water onto the wall, and panting from the effort, and the pain in his back, he climbed onto the path and bent double until he could get his breath. Olivia had stepped away.
“Are you all right?” he gasped at her. She was white.
“He would have killed me if he could. I saw it in his eyes. He must have known the game was up and he panicked.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Naw. That’s an old trick I used. He grabbed me and I let my entire weight collapse. Took him by surprise.”
Murdoch straightened up. “Olivia. We’ll have to get some help. Do you think you can run to the station?”
She nodded. “Don’t know about run, me legs have turned to jelly, but I’ll do my best. He’s quite done for, ain’t he?”
“Yes. Tell the sergeant what has happened and say we need an ambulance.”
For a moment she didn’t move but stared into the red pond. “Who is he?”
Murdoch reached over and pulled the sodden scarf away from the man’s face. What was left of his jaw was thin and clean-shaven, the open mouth loose now.
“His name’s Matthew Swanzey.”