“It wasn’t me,” Tuppence whispered. “I didn’t do it.”
Mark’s face remained grim as he studied the corpse. He knew what his boss at the police station was going to say: Tuppence had to be arrested. The body had been found on her land, with one of her knives sticking out of the dead man’s back. To be even more condemning, she had been found standing over the dead man while covered in blood by a villager. Further, Mr Lewis had been dead for a couple of hours, and Tuppence was cold from having been outside for a while. There was no way of knowing how long she had been standing over the body, or if indeed she was responsible for Mr Lewis’s death. It looked suspicious even to him, and he liked Tuppence and didn’t believe for one second that she could do something this heinous.
“What happ
ened, Tuppence? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth,” Mark pressed but kept his tone gentle, so he didn’t scare her.
It took a moment for Mark’s words to register on Tuppence. Once they did, she began to absorb their meaning and realised what he was hinting at. “I didn’t do this.”
“Why is he on your land then?”
“How should I know?” For the first time since she had found Mr Lewis’s body, Tuppence felt the fog of disbelief finally begin to lift. Beneath it was a tumultuous world of shock and anger the likes of which made Tuppence physically shake. “I found him here. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Someone killed him. With your knife, Tuppence.” Mark looked sad. “Why? Are you saying that someone else would do this? Why? What purpose would the killer have for killing him, and here of all places?”
“I don’t know,” Tuppence cried. “I don’t know. I-it must have been Angus Richmond. He threatened me yesterday.”
“He threatened you, not Mr Lewis.” Mark frowned.
“I don’t know if he threatened Mr Lewis, but he threatened me.”
“But it wasn’t you he killed, Tuppence. You are alive,” Mark reminded her. “Mr Lewis isn’t, and has been killed on your property with one of your knives.” His gaze fell meaningfully to her hands. He wondered how many times they had to go over the facts before she realised just how condemning her situation was.
“I didn’t do it,” Tuppence whispered.
Mark sighed.
“You cannot arrest me for it. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Tuppence looked at him so pleadingly that Mark sighed again. “I have to arrest you, Tuppence. For now, I can’t just let you go home until I have investigated what happened here.” He studied the ground beneath their boots, but it was muddy and most of the field was grassed. Any footprints the killer left behind would be impossible to find even without the rain that was falling steadily around them.
Tuppence sniffed. “But I didn’t do it,” she insisted.
“I know.”
Tuppence’s worried eyes lit with hope for a moment. Mark hated to snuff it out so quickly but couldn’t allow her to have false hope in anything right now. “You have to understand how this looks to someone like me, Tuppence. I don’t believe for one second that you killed Mr Lewis, but because it looks that way, I have to arrest you. Once you are in prison, you will be safe. I will investigate this. Whoever did it will be found I can assure you.”
“Prison? But what about my farm? What about my animals? They need to be fed. Baxter. What about him? I can’t go to prison.” Tuppence began to cry. She stared in horror at Mark, but he was busy studying the ground around the corpse and was clearly lost in the intricacies of his investigative work. “The animals will die if they don’t get fed, Mark.”
“I know someone who will look after them for you. Leave it to me,” Mark muttered grimly. He hated to be the one to have to break the news to Isaac but also knew that his good friend had to know. Unfortunately, Mark couldn’t be certain if Tuppence were innocent. For the first time since he had met her many years ago, Mark didn’t believe what she was saying. He didn’t trust in her good character, her honesty, what she was telling him. He had no idea why. It might have been the blood stains on her dress, or the fact that the knife was hers, or even her strange, withdrawn behaviour of late toward her friend and even himself. Whatever it was, Mark was a little sterner than he should have been when it came to dealing with his prime suspect.
“You are standing over a corpse who has been murdered, Tuppence,” he announced flatly. “It is on your land, and you are covered in blood. Because you are the only suspect I have right now, I am arresting you for the murder of Mr Lewis. Here. Now. Today. I will contact Isaac Chester and see if he can get staff over here to look after your farm while you are away.”
“Isaac? No! No. God, no,” Tuppence wailed. “You can’t tell him.”
“Why not?” Mark pressed.
“I don’t want his help.”
“Well, with your other neighbour now dead, who else is there? I can’t do it. Beatrice and Ben have gone to London and won’t be back until next month. Constance is poorly with influenza again. Did you not know?” Mark shook his head chidingly at Tuppence when she gasped at the news. “So, you haven’t been in contact with your other friends either.”
“Is that what this is all about? You are blaming me for Mr Lewis’s murder because I didn’t visit Harriett whenever she demanded I call upon her?” Tuppence cried.
“No. It’s nothing to do with that,” Mark protested. “This is a murder scene you are in the middle of.”
“So, I am immediately guilty, is that it?” Tuppence protested.
Mark held his arms aloft. “Do you see anyone else out here?”