Tuppence (The Tipton Hollow 3)

Tuppence didn’t even glance at the silent Mr Davies as she hurried to catch up with the stranger. It was a surprise to find him standing in the hallway waiting for her. When she reached him, he waved to the outside door leading to the stable yard at the back of the police station.

“Come on. Keep walking. My carriage is in the yard,” he ordered, his tone brisk and impatient.

Tuppence dutifully kept walking but before she reached the door, the stranger darted around her and yanked the door open. He waved to the carriage sitting at the base of the stone steps, clearly waiting for them.

“This way, miss,” the man beamed suddenly, darting down the steps to yank the carriage door open. “Come on now.”

Amazed at the speed in which the sixty-something man moved, and how eager he seemed to leave the police station behind, Tuppence dutifully clambered into the luxurious carriage. Within seconds of the door closing, the huge conveyance was turning out of the police station’s yard and onto the main street.

It felt odd to see people rushing around, minding their own business, completely unaffected by the ordeal Tuppence had been put through. While she had been in the cells for a few short hours, it had felt like a lifetime. It had already left an indelible scar on her that Tuppence doubted she could ever remove. She knew that it was going to be an exceptionally long time before she could ever feel normal again; unsullied by the dank helplessness of the cell she had just left behind.

“I am sorry to be so blunt, but who are you?” Tuppence asked somewhat feebly when the man seemed inclined to do nothing more than sit staring out of the window with his briefcase perched on his lap. It was as if he had forgotten that she was there.

When he looked at her, his gaze was direct, and his smile was brisk. His tone was proud as he announced: “I am Reginald Chester, Sir Reginald, Isaac’s uncle.”

“The Barrister?” Tuppence blinked in astonishment.

The man smiled at her. “You don’t believe me?”

“I have no reason to doubt you,” Tuppence replied. “Mr Davies doesn’t seem like the kind of man to be fooled by anybody.”

“He is rather sharp,” Sir Reginald murmured with an approving nod. “However, he has to follow the law like all the rest and shouldn’t have been so hasty arresting you.”

“How did you do it? How did you get here so fast? I mean, you don’t know me. Why are you prepared to help me?” Tuppence couldn’t be sure if she should cry because she was happy or cry because Isaac had ignored all her warnings and put his reputation at risk to help her.

Sir Reginald smiled benevolently at her. “Luckily for you, I was on my way to see Isaac. When he returned home from having seen you in the cells, he found me talking to his mother. He told me what happened. I know my nephew, my dear. If he says you are innocent, then you are innocent. Besides, I have read the Coroner’s report. I have been a Barrister for nearly thirty years now. I know when a prisoner is guilty and I know the law, better than Chief Inspector Davies it seems.”

“Isa – L-Lord Aldridge’s mother isn’t going to be very happy having me in her house,” Tuppence whispered.

“It’s not her house,” Sir Reginald informed her. “It belongs to my nephew. His mother has her own property on the estate.” When he saw Tuppence’s astonished look, he smiled again. “Did you not know? If she doesn’t like you staying at Aldridge Manor, she can always go home.”

“Well, no, I didn’t know,” Tuppence whispered. “I just assumed that she lived with Isaac.”

“No.” Sir Reginald returned to gazing out of the window at the lush landscape rolling by. Several minutes passed before he announced: “It is going to be winter soon,” as if she didn’t already know.

“I have to return to my farm,” Tuppence murmured worriedly.

Sir Reginald looked sharply at her. “You cannot break the terms of the agreement, or you will end up back behind bars whether you are guilty or not.”

“But I can’t just simply sit at Aldridge Manor and wait. What shall I do? Besides, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I can see that,” Sir Reginald replied with a pointed look.

“Pardon?” Tuppence frowned at him. She was confused because she had genuinely believed that he believed that she was innocent.

Sir Reginald pursed his lips. “I think it might ease your mind if you knew that whoever killed the victim did so with such fury that they stabbed Mr Lewis in what the Coroner called ‘a frenzied attack’. I am sorry, my dear, but you are just not that kind of person, any damned fool can see it.” He raked her with a look and shook his head as if to wonder at how anybody could be stupid enough to consider her capable of murder.

“Why are you helping me?” Tuppence prompted a mile or so later. “While I am extremely grateful for your help, I cannot pay you much.”

Sir Reginald barely glanced at her. “I am fulfilling a favour to my nephew, my dear. He has asked for my assistance in this, and that is what I shall give him. Isaac knows that the law doesn’t always get it right and isn’t always fair in this country. I don’t usually fight to get criminals out of prison, my dear. I usually fight to ensure that justice is served properly, and that the innocent walk free and the guilty face justice. To do that one must ferret out the truth and look at facts from every angle. People tend to lie, you know. It is one of the questionable characteristics we all have. Even the best of us are known to

tell the small falsehood every now and then. It is human nature. However, when lying relates to criminal acts, the truth must be found through facts if nothing else. My cousin knows I like a good mystery and enjoy looking at facts. A good Barrister is nothing more than a human blood hound. We sniff out the truth by looking at facts, and then look at how the law applies to those facts, and whether someone has committed a crime or not.”

“But that will take time. Don’t you have other clients to look after?” Tuppence didn’t doubt that someone so capable would be a popular legal representation for any criminal who could afford his rates, but she couldn’t.

“I am one of a very few fortunate Barristers who have the benefit of being able to choose their clients, my dear. I don’t have to work to keep food on the table. I am, after all, an Aldridge,” he reported with wry smile. “Being a Barrister is more of a hobby because I love a good mystery.”

“Good Lord,” Tuppence whispered. “But how do you expect me to pay you?”