hot-headed man himself. Also capable of striking out when he felt attacked…
Peartree turned on his heel and began to walk again. Because Alkmene had to stay behind him on the narrow path, she couldn’t see his expression well enough to read his emotions better.
Peartree spoke, through gritted teeth. ‘Of course I don’t want that. I just…knew Duncan would have this callous attitude about it. Like nothing can touch him. He thinks he is above the law just because his father is a viscount. I thought the police should know the truth so they can judge him on the basis of evidence, not shy away from confrontation, just for the sake of his family name.’
‘I see.’
Peartree’s irritation about Duncan’s privileged position and possible preferential treatment by the police reminded Alkmene of what Jake had told her about events in London. Cases where poor people were involved were easily dismissed, whereas crimes against the upper classes got more attention.
Jake even claimed sometimes innocent people were condemned for a crime they had not committed because the police wanted to close the case as quickly as possible, show results for the wealthy and powerful families of victims. The injustice in that might drive Peartree to his current behaviour.
Jake would probably approve of it.
The path got wider, and Alkmene came to walk beside Peartree. In the distance the grass gave way to rock. Those had to be cliffs close to water. She could hear some splashing. All the sounds were so clear, carried along by the sharp wind.
She said, ‘You have done the right thing not withholding anything based on someone’s last name. But you should realize that an argument and words spoken in anger don’t mean a whole lot. Duncan might be innocent.’
Peartree glanced at her. ‘Who else would have had any reason to kill the victim? Nobody knew him. Just Duncan.’
‘Are you sure of that?’
‘Well, the locals surely didn’t know him. They had never worked on an excavation site before so it was all new to them. Duncan was new to them, I was, everybody who came here from London was.’
So the killer could not have been local.
Peartree continued, ‘Duncan was very vague about who Goodman was and what he wanted here on the site. But when he turned up dead, I heard that he was into archaeology as well. A colleague of Duncan’s, so to speak.’
So their argument could have been about the excavation. With what news had Goodman come from London?
Alkmene increased the length of her strides, as if physical energy could also increase her confidence in a good outcome in the case. ‘I have to talk to Duncan before he starts blabbering nonsense to the police. I wish I had understood the full implications when he was taken away. I would have gone with him to talk to him on the way into Blackcastle.’
Peartree scoffed. ‘Duncan wouldn’t have told you anything. He is an arrogant man who thinks the world of himself. He wasn’t any good at archaeology, you know. He was only taken on because he brought money with him. I had to work my head off to get to where I am today. He walks in with a bag full of money and he can become the right-hand man of the excavation leader. When Price falls ill, Duncan can take over everything. Where is the justice in that?’
‘So you were after the position Duncan has now?’ That would put Peartree’s insistence to accuse Duncan in a wholly new light. He might have a personal interest in seeing Duncan leave the scene, for good!
Peartree laughed. ‘Not at all. I’m not into archaeology.’
‘Oh. Why are you here then?’
Peartree waved a hand. ‘Just a visit. Duncan asked me to come see him if I had the time for it, and it seemed like a nice sort of change.’
Peartree’s tone was a little too casual. And he had said before he had been here for weeks, helping out on the dig. He had acted around the workers as if he was in charge of them. That was different than just a nice visit.
There had to be more behind Peartree’s presence at the site. Some sort of rivalry or enmity of a different kind.
Some reason why Peartree had jumped at the chance to share his incriminating evidence with the police as soon as the dead body had turned up.
Alkmene intended to find out exactly what his involvement was.
At the police station in Blackcastle, Alkmene asked Peartree to wait outside for her at the car in which he had driven her into the town. She didn’t want him to be present when she talked to Duncan. She also didn’t want him to know who she was calling and what about.
Peartree seemed irked to be ordered about like that, but wordlessly removed himself to sit on a bench under an oak tree, opposite to the village store. The girl who had been brushing the horse earlier was just entering the store with a big twine basket on her arm.
Alkmene stared after her a moment. If this girl Sarah had been close to Duncan, it might be worthwhile to ask her what she knew about the victim and his reasons for visiting Duncan here in Blackcastle.
Then she shook her head. It would have to wait ’til later. Duncan came first now.
She stalked into the police station. A constable was typing up notes from a stack by his side. As he rose to come over to her, his baton moved against the desk, producing a metallic thud that reverberated in the air.
Alkmene cringed at the aggressive sound.
‘Yes?’ the constable asked with a suspicious frown. It was the man with the basset-hound face who had taken Duncan in.
Alkmene mentioned her name, title included of course, demanding to speak with Duncan Woolsbury as soon as possible.
The constable shook his head. ‘He is being questioned right now. You cannot see him.’
‘I will see him now.’ She put her hands on the desk to underline her point. ‘You have no right to question him without an attorney.’
‘He doesn’t want one. We did ask. He says it is all a silly misunderstanding that can be set straight in no time.’
Alkmene sighed. It seemed Simon Peartree had been right about Duncan’s pig-headedness. He would keep thinking nothing was wrong until it was too late. She had to change tack, fast. ‘Can I use your phone, please?’
The man nodded and put it on the desk for her. He retreated to his own desk and rearranged the notes he had been working on. Were they about the murder? She needed some details. Where the body had been found, how it had lain there, traces around it – footprints, a cigarette butt, anything that could shed light on the presence of people on the murder scene.
But she was pretty certain this hostile constable wouldn’t tell her a thing.
With a sigh she asked the operator to connect her with the number in Plymouth that Jake had given her. She hoped he was in.
A hotel clerk answered and had to send a bellboy to look for Mr Dubois. ‘He has just been seen leaving with another gentleman.’
Alkmene kept her fingers crossed the bellboy would catch the two of them outside before they vanished.
The hubbub of a busy lobby buzzed over the line. The sound of voices, laughter, and the distant ding of an elevator bell.
Then a rustle and a short, ‘Dubois.’
Excitement flooded through her that they were connecting again about a murder. Not one Jake was writing about, and graciously sharing with her, like the poison case, but one she had hit upon herself. He would be surprised to hear it. ‘Alkmene here. I can barely hear you. Can you hear me?’
‘If I concentrate.’ There was a hint of laughter in his voice. ‘What is it?’
Just hearing his voice made Alkmene feel better. Jake would have some idea of what they could do to prove Duncan’s innocence. She turned