Lucas woke up while it was still dark. Why on earth had he set the alarm so early? It had run down, stopped. Except that it had not; it was still ringing. It was the telephone. And at this hour, it had to be an emergency.
He reached over and picked up the receiver. “Yes.” He felt the chill run right through his body. His mouth was too dry to say more.
It was Allenby. “First of all,” he said in a hurry, no time for greetings. “Elena is all right. But things are escalating. I need to see you.”
Lucas did not realize he had been holding his breath. He let it out and glanced at the bedside clock. It was just after five.
Josephine sat up beside him. She turned toward him silently, listening.
“Where are you?” Lucas demanded. “What’s happened?”
“At the public telephone nearest to the Hall. I can’t afford to be overheard or suspected of anything.”
“What’s happened?” Lucas repeated, although this time with more urgency. There was no point in keeping the light off. He switched it on and took the pencil and pad of paper that were always at his bedside.
“Without details,” Allenby continued. “We were all riding back through woodlands from a picnic on a nearby hillside. Somebody shot at Elena’s horse, which bolted, and she came off. She’s fine,” he said, rushing on as if not wanting Lucas to ask questions. “She has some spectacular bruises. The vet that took the bullet out of the horse’s flank said it will heal. But it was a deliberate shot, and we found the place from which it was fired.”
“Do you know who?” Lucas demanded.
“No. Just a heel print. No chance to look at boots yet.”
“Don’t leave her alone!” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Lucas regretted them. Allenby did not need to be told what to do. He took a breath. “You said things were escalating. What other things?” He felt Josephine move closer, craning her neck to hear what Allenby was saying.
“With regard to David Wyndham’s huge donations to the British Union of Fascists, I have an idea that he’s been rather clever about it. Elena woke me about half an hour ago. She said Margot told her that what she’s seen of the very considerable Wyndham family jewelry, as worn by Griselda, is actually paste. Excellent reproductions, but Margot knows her jewelry.”
Lucas’s mind was racing. With such tension between his granddaughters, he wondered why Margot would share this information. “Does she know if Griselda realizes they’re fake? Could there have been a robbery, and the Wyndhams have put substitutes in their place? In which case we would have no idea how long ago it happened. Could be years, or even decades. Could the originals have been sold and the money spent on that magnificent house? Or even sold longer ago than that?”
“I doubt it,” Allenby answered. “And the other thing: Wyndham’s account is debited.”
“How do you know?” Lucas was worried that Wyndham could be aware of the inquiries and suspect who was making them.
“Peter Howard,” Allenby replied. “I’ve been in touch with him, especially regarding Repton.”
“Why, specifically, are you calling me, and at five in the morning?” That was the question that worried Lucas.
“Because the only other people at the picnic were Wyndham and his wife, Griselda, and Margot and Geoffrey,” Allenby replied. “The shot had to be fired at Elena by one of them, and possibly with the knowledge of the other, in the case of the Wyndhams.”
“If it was Wyndham, would his wife know?” wondered Lucas, thinking aloud. Then he thought of Margot and how little they had seen of her in recent months. Her opinions were less fierce than his or Josephine’s. Like a lot of people, she profoundly did not want another war, and her sympathies might be with the “never again” movement. Still, Margot would never have shot at Elena. Apart from anything else, it made no sense. But Geoffrey, on the other hand, could have made an excuse to disappear into the woods, and Margot would have thought nothing of it.
Another idea forced its way into Lucas’s mind, something he had not weighed before. “James?”
“Yes?”
“Have you collected the bullet from the horse?”
“Yes, I have it. I took it from the vet. Why? Are you thinking—”
“Yes,” Lucas cut him off. “If by any excellent chance they are from the same rifle—the one that shot the horse and the one that killed Repton—we are halfway to finding the killer. Whoever it was is a pretty good shot, and that narrows it to—”
“To someone who was at Wyndham Hall when Repton was shot and is there now,” Allenby finished. “Which again cuts it down to Wyndham, Griselda, or Geoffrey. Or a servant of the Hall, I suppose.”
“Don’t worry,” Lucas said quickly. “We’ll work that out. And I hardly think it would be the butler, the footman, or the cook.”
“I will check the stable hand or one of the gardeners, too, just to be sure,” Allenby added. “I’ll check them all, if it’s possible.”
“Let’s see if the bullets match first. Not much point if they don’t. We need to meet,” Lucas said.
“Indeed.”
“I’ll dress and leave soon.”
“Name your time and place,” Allenby said.
“Corner of the road where we first met. I’ll keep out of sight until I see your car. It’s pretty individual.” There was the first touch of lightness, even amusement before he promptly hung up.
“Well?” Josephine asked, sitting up beside him.
“It looks as if it’s coming to a head,” Lucas sighed, touching her lightly. He told her about the shooting and reassured her that Elena was fine. “I’m sorry for Margot and for Wyndham. I liked him. But my judgment must be losing its sensitivity. I really did not see this coming.”
“Could Allenby be wrong?” Josephine wondered. “Might the bullet prove that different rifles were used?”
“A lack of proof,” he pointed out. “One man could use a number of rifles.”
“And in reverse, several people could use the one rifle,” she countered. “Be careful, Lucas. Don’t jump to conclusions, and…can I do anything to help?”
“Yes.” He smiled lightly. “Be here when I get back.”
She nodded. “And Lucas, if David Wyndham is a really bad one, and it seems as if he is, then be gentle with Margot. She needs you to be. And you know as well as I do that if you push her, she’ll go the wrong way. I realize that Geoffrey’s not her husband yet, but this is her future family, and she could easily be pushed into having to defend someone who’s guilty.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting she got it from me? As you would say, stuff and nonsense.”
She gave him a wry smile and did not bother to argue. She just hugged him for a moment or two longer than usual.
Allenby was waiting for Lucas exactly where he said he would be. He looked tired and tense. He got into the car beside Lucas without speaking, and they drove in silence for a few hundred yards to a place where they could pull off the road and not be seen. Allenby put his hand in his pocket and took out the bullet, wrapped in greaseproof paper. There were still faint smears of blood on it.
“The horse is all right?” Lucas checked. Like Elena, he believed there was a special place in hell for people who hurt animals.
“Yes. Just a flesh wound, and well cleaned by a vet, who was so angry he had to stop himself from shaking before he could remove this. I had to convince him I was taking the bullet to an animal cruelty specialist before he would let me have it.”
Lucas took the bullet. “Thank you. I’ll turn it over to our ballistics chap straightaway, and I’ll let you know the answer as soon as I know it. Shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.”
“Pity it won’t tell us who shot the rifle,” Allenby scoffed. “But since the two incidents were days apart, it has to be someone who was there to shoot Repton and there again yesterday. Or possibly never left.”
“Or lives there,” Lucas added.
“They’re all horse people. Would any of them shoot a healthy horse?” Allenby said with disbelief.
“Step at a time; don’t take anything for granted,” Lucas replied.
Allenby stared at him. “Are you still hoping it isn’t Wyndham? Or anyone in the family?” There was no condescension in his voice, just sadness.
“Look after Elena, but don’t try to stop her from comforting Margot.”
Allenby’s eyebrows rose even higher in disbelief. “You imagine I could?”
“Am I wrong?” Lucas asked. “You couldn’t?”
There were a few moments of heavy silence. “No,” Allenby said at last.
He gave a gesture of salute, got out of the car, and walked away. Soon he was lost in the darkness.
Lucas started the engine again. It might be daylight by the time he visited the ballistics expert and then returned home. For the moment, however, all he could see was darkness…but with the promise of dawn.