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Joe took the notebook she passed him and began to read through it, checking that it corresponded with the notes he’d already seen in the file. He’d deliberately handed the reins of the conversation to Hu
“But why? I can’t understand. Why there? Why then? In the stables at crack of dawn with no company other than the two inexperienced lads? Deliberately encountering a stallion with a reputation for violent behaviour? Was the woman mad? You’ll have to tell me—I never met her.”
She listened to Hu
Joe was begi
“Silly women! That’s the sort of behaviour you might expect from men. They have more opportunities, of course, for affirming their superiority—they can always shoot more birds, pee further, drink more whisky and seduce more women.”
Hu
Deflected by its force, her attention slid over to Joe. “Tell me, Commissioner—you’re clearly a successful member of the competitive sex—how do you go about establish a pecking order?”
“Oh, all of the above come in useful,” he said with a happy smile. “Luckily I have a lot of gold braid to do my bragging for me these days. My other accomplishments, I’m sorry to say, have not stood the test of time and are getting a bit rusty.”
“Ah! The uncertainties of middle age! Like motorcars, men need a yearly check-up. If you’re seriously concerned about your declining capacity in any of the aforementioned skills, pop in and consult me. I’m sure I can do something for you.”
It was Joe’s turn to launch the pulpit stare, though there was a trace of laughter held in check as he replied, “Unless you’re an adept with a twelve-bore shotgun, madam, I’m not sure you can help. The old eyes are less sharp than they were perhaps but—as for the other organs you questioned … what were they?—kidneys, liver …”
“Yes, yes. I understand. Tongue in good working order, too.”
“I’m sure we take your point, Doctor.” Hu
Hu
His boyish blue eyes misted over in pleasurable nostalgia, and Adelaide’s hazel eyes twinkled back her appreciation of his story. She gave him a sweetly indulgent smile.
“There he goes again,” Joe thought. “He’ll be breathing down her nostrils any minute.”
“I’m sure you’ve understood it exactly, Superintendent,” the doctor commended him. “But, poor woman! What a desperate thing to do. Sad and wrong-headed. And never likely to work the magic she wanted it to. When will women ever learn there’s nothing that can bring back a husband who’s determined to go astray? No demands, no persuasion, no appeals to conscience and duty.” She sniffed. “I always prescribe a boot up the backside to help him on his way if anyone ever asks me. Not that they do very often. We old maids are not expected to have any useful insights into the married state. But you can bet that’s what all this was about: a skirmish over an unworthy man. A tug of war that led to death. Two deaths. I add the name of the horse, Lucifer, to the butcher’s bill. Now, you chaps will want to know who put her up to it.”
“What makes you think she had an accomplice?” Hu
“It’s pretty obvious. My father says she was an unadventurous woman, not given to original thought. He thinks someone planted the idea in her noddle and gave her some professional advice.”
“Advice? What advice are you thinking of?”
“Pa was the first medical man on the scene—I suppose you know that. He attended to the body of Lavinia Truelove before anyone else saw it. He checked it for signs of life, of course.”
Joe referred to the notes. “He stated that he shot dead the horse, which had retreated back into its stall and was stamping and quivering in apparent fear at the back. He was curious enough about this behaviour to have the carcase hauled back to his surgery for inspection and wrote a full autopsy. Very interesting. Especially the observation of the condition of the mouth.”
“That made me angry! The sides of the mouth had been subject to abrasion of some sort. The wounds were not healed and the horse must have been in some pain,” Adelaide said.
Hu
The cracking of the knuckles in his large hands as they suddenly became fists finished the sentence for him and won him an approving smile and a pat on the hand from Adelaide.
“I’ll be there holding your coat, Superintendent,” she offered.
“Father doesn’t say much in his statement about Lavinia—assuming her body would be dealt with by a medical authority, I expect. Quite proper. Not his place to comment. But he did note some oddities.” She reached for a small silver box lying on the table, a box Joe had taken for a cigarette container. “The wounds to her head, neck and torso were extensive and clearly lethal, but her hands were untouched. Hard to discern by torchlight in the falling rain and welters of blood but he smelled something strange on her right hand. It was clutching a mess of … he swears it was cake of some kind. He took a sample of it, left the rest in place to be inspected by others and brought it back to have a look under a light. He probably ought not to have done that but he always thinks he knows best and his interest in animals must have pushed him to do it. That’s what I say. You’re probably thinking: ‘Interfering old nuisance!’ ”