Page 75 of Corpse in the Canal

“I think it has to be. Is that what happened?”

“I don’t know what happened,” Adelaide said.

For no obvious reason, Constance believed her. She waited, for Adelaide seemed about to say more. But the woman rose and walked across the room to see what her son was drawing so assiduously.

Chapter Sixteen

“I don’t think she killed Percy,” Contance told Solomon as they left the house together and walked up the track toward the farm cottage nearest to the house. “But she’s still keeping something from us. She asked about David.”

Solomon glanced at her. “What did you say?”

“Nothing of substance. But she thinks he’s fragile.”

“That’s not good,” Solomon said ruefully.

“You think she’ll take advantage of that?”

He blinked. “I hope not. But no man likes to appear fragile to a lady. Not at first.”

“We see more than you think, you know. Did you learn anything from the servants?”

“No. They remember Clarence playing outside, but no one saw Percy, or anyone else. Perhaps we’ll have more luck with those who work outside.”

But it seemed such was not to be the case. Neither the farmer’s wife at the first cottage, nor any of the workers they encountered as far as the boundary with Larchford, claimed to have seen Percy or any other gentleman that Thursday afternoon. Constance and Solomon walked on past the wood that formed part of the boundary, toward the canal. The land was rougher here, used occasionally for sheep, apparently, but there was one last, tiny cottage, occupied by an injured laborer who was convalescing while his wife sold her baking at the market to make ends meet.

Constance and Solomon came upon him sitting on a stool and gazing downhill at the canal and the land beyond. His left leg was heavily bandaged. A careless moment with a scythe during harvest had apparently laid him low, though he seemed to accept his temporary fate as something of a boon. His children, who were busy cutting wood, cooking, and cleaning the house, brought him food and watered ale and politely offered the same to their visitors.

They declined, although Constance was grateful for the stools one of the children brought for them to sit on while they talked to his father.

“So this is how you spend your convalescence?” Solomon said. “Watching the world go by?”

“Never had the time for such before,” said the laborer who had introduced himself as Joshua. “But it’s kind of peaceful, watching the boats punt up and down the canal. When they come. More exciting when they’re pulled along by horses, but there are even fewer of those.”

You could just make out the distant lock from here, and the moving figure that might have been George West.

“You’ll see all the comings and goings, too,” Constance remarked. “I don’t suppose you saw anyone around here last Thursday afternoon?”

His gaze moved reluctantly to hers. “You mean the day young Harvey died?”

“Exactly.”

Joshua did not look alarmed. “I saw him.”

“Percy?” Solomon said quickly. “Where? Down at the canal?”

“Oh no. He were in the woods.” Joshua waved a hand toward the trees that spread almost from the canal to the top of the hill.

“How did you see him then?” Solomon asked. “It’s pretty thick in there.”

“It is,” Joshua agreed. “But I saw him all the same. He came out for a look. Think he saw me, because he dodged back in again.”

“What time was this?” Constance asked.

Joshua shrugged. “’Bout two, maybe? A bit after?”

“And where exactly did you see him?” Solomon asked.

Joshua called for the boy chopping wood behind the cottage, who came and helped his father lever himself upright, then supported him the few steps to the side of the house. Constance and Solomon followed.