Page 106 of Corpse in the Canal

“Inspector!” Ellis cried. “I want that man charged with breaking and entering at the very least—!”

“We’ll come to that,” Harris interrupted, his voice even, though it cut like a knife through Ellis’s bluster. “Please just answer the question. How did Percival Harvey’s gun get into your desk drawer?”

“Percy gave it to me,” Ellis said, striving for dignity, although his voice sounded wild in his own ears. “Because I go into the rougher part of town to tend my flock—”

“Which is not where you were last Thursday when Percy died, was it?” said Mrs. Grey. “No one saw you there, but at least two people observed you come in this direction. Constable Wills is currently interviewing the cottagers at Dare and Larchford.”

Ellis felt the walls closing in on him. There was no escape, not in real life, not even in his imagination. His fingers clenched hard on the back of the nearest chair as he tried to make himself breathe normally.

I am a good man… Abruptly he shifted and sat sideways on the nearest chair. “I am not a good man,” he whispered. “I tried to be. I tried so hard, but I cannot make up for this, can I? I broke the most important commandment.”

“Where were you last Thursday afternoon?” Inspector Harris asked.

“At Dare and Larchford,” Ellis said. “I was cutting through the wood, meaning to cross the canal at Larchford Bridge and visit one of the families over there, when I came across Percy.”

“Were you surprised?”

“Yes. He hadn’t been gone a week, and I’d thought he was still in London.”

“Where was his horse?” Grey asked.

Ellis blinked. “I never saw a horse except my own pulling the gig.”

“Did you guess why Percy had returned so quickly?” Mrs. Grey asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. Was it possible she understood?

Ellis tried to smile, but felt it turn into a grimace because Harvey was watching him, his eyes wide and desperate and betrayed. But this had gone beyond protecting the Harveys or himself.

“I didn’t need to guess,” he said flatly. “Percy told me in his own inimitable style. Mrs. Jenkins had eluded him in London and come home, and he was on his way to—and I quote—show her what she’s been missing.”

Even now, an echo of that old rage consumed him. Harvey jerked once as though in shock, but Ellis, swamped by truth, had to go on.

“I pulled him up for his disgusting remarks, of course, and he laughed at me. He’d always laughed at me, even as a youth, but this was not a laughing matter. I got down from the gig, trying to show him the seriousness of what he was threatening. He told me—” Ellis broke off, closing his eyes.

“He told you what?” Grey asked steadily.

“I cannot say in front of your wife.”

“My wife won’t be offended.”

“She will,” Ellis burst out, opening his eyes to glare at Grey. “I am offended! How do you think Harvey will feel? But if you will have it, he told me not to worry, that he’d leave some for me.”

“Nasty little tick,” Harris observed, and Harvey made a moaning noise deep in his throat. There was nothing Ellis could do, except nod and keep going.

“Everyone knew what Percy was—except his doting parents—but no one had ever done anything. I’m sorry, Harvey, but that is the truth. He had been out of control for years. And he knew how to hurt.”

“Bullies make a point of that, of knowing their victims’ weaknesses,” Mrs. Grey said. “Percy knew Mrs. Jenkins’s weakness was her son and the respectability she needed for his sake. He knew yours too, didn’t he?”

Ellis nodded again. It was almost a relief to say it out loud. Almost. “He knew I loved her, made fun of me for it, laughed at the very idea of my taming a woman like her, as he put it. I didn’t want to tame her. I wanted to cherish her, marry her, make her and the boy happy and at home…”

“Did you ever tell her that?” Mrs. Grey asked.

Ellis shook his head tiredly. “What was the point? Percy was right about one thing. She never looked at me in that way. Her very ease with me showed me that much. She knew I would never overstep, and I never did. I never would.”

“But you killed Percy for her?” Harris asked, almost casually. “How did that happen?”

“I blocked his way up to Dare Hall. I refused to let him pass, and it had rained earlier, making the ground marshy and muddy on either side of the track. He laughed at first and tried to brush me aside. I stood firm and, God forgive me, I was glad to see him get annoyed. He never liked to be thwarted.”

“Go on,” Harris said.