c a dark look as if accusing him of the problems she faced.
“If you cannot provide me with the relevant evidence, you are trespassing and I am arresting you for it,” Mark corrected smoothly. He wished now that he had brought his assistant, Detective Calger, with him. Because Calger wasn’t here, he had to rely on Isaac instead. “Can you find something we can restrain her with, Isaac? I don’t have the handcuffs on me.”
Isaac pushed his way into the house and shoved Mrs Glover to one side when she tried to slam the door closed on them. Her angry screeches of protest warned both Isaac and Mark that the woman was guilty. She objected. Shouted. Wailed. Threw accusations at them and protested vehemently, but it was that vehemence that betrayed her.
When Mark and Isaac stepped into the house, they found it empty. Venturing further into the house revealed tell-tale signs of squatting in the sitting room. A makeshift bed had been constructed out of several blankets which had been scattered over the floor in front of dying embers in the room’s small fireplace. Beside it was several boxes of food and personal possessions, otherwise the room was devoid of furniture and items that made a home.
“You had a lot of money off the sale of the farm. Why are you squatting here?” Mark asked quietly, refusing to call it ‘living’.
Mrs Glover glared at him. “I am not answering your questions. We don’t have to tell you what we do with our money. It has got nothing to do with you.”
Isaac yanked open the door to a cupboard in the corner of the room beside the window. He expected Mr Glover to be hiding inside but the cupboard was empty. It was when he turned to leave that he saw something dark tucked inside one of the boxes on the floor. With Mark positioned beside Mrs Glover, Isaac picked up two black gloves and a large black cloak.
“These aren’t the usual items of clothing farmers wear,” Isaac murmured, holding them up for Mark to see. “Or their wives for that matter.”
“They look as if they would fit your husband,” Mark mused, studying the size of the gloves. “Now why would your husband need black clothing like that?”
Isaac held up a thick black muffler. “He has something to cover his face as well.”
“So, we have you squatting in a house you have sold several weeks ago, the owner of the house is now dead having been murdered, you are unable to provide me with any documentation to prove you are a legitimate tenant, and your husband is missing, apparently moving cattle that we know you don’t have anymore. We also find you inside this house with black clothing only a burglar would want to wear, and the house empty of all your personal possessions. Further, we also have a number of deaths in the area.” Mark saw real fear enter Mrs Glover’s narrowed eyes. He knew what she was planning when she glanced nervously at the hallway as if gauging how long it would take her to reach it, and if she could without him or Isaac catching her. Carefully, with his gaze pinned on hers, Mark positioned himself in the doorway.
“Isaac, take my gun and go and check upstairs, will you?” Mark murmured, grabbing Mrs Glover by the elbow when she tried to sidestep toward the door. She struggled and fought to break free of him, but Mark had too much experience dealing with recalcitrant criminals and drunkards to be thwarted by a woman half his size. Once she was subdued, he waited for Isaac to re-join him.
Isaac shook his head. “The house is empty. He has gone.”
“He probably scarpered when he saw us,” Mark replied.
“I’ll go and find some rope.” Isaac took the gun with him when he left the house to look for some rope.
While he was outside, Isaac scoured the farm, but Glover wasn’t hiding in any of the outbuildings. He had left his wife to face justice for him. Shaking his head in disbelief, Isaac found some baling twine and returned to the house.
Several minutes later, with the house once again empty of the Glover’s belongings and secured against further intrusion, Isaac and Mark shoved Mrs Glover into the back of the carriage and began their journey to the police station. Neither man said much until they had handed their new convict over to the Station Sergeant.
“Trespass, breaking and entering, and murder,” Mark informed the Sergeant grimly.
Strangely, Mrs Glover didn’t argue like Mark expected her to. Her silence was as condemning as if her husband had stalked into the station and confessed to being the murderer.
“Book her, but put her in an interview room,” Mark warned. He stopped when he saw Davies appear in his office doorway.
“Murder of whom?” he demanded.
“Mr Lewis, Mr Richmond, Mrs Girdling, and the attempted murder of Lord Aldridge,” Mark replied. “We have discovered that Mr and Mrs Glover sold their farm to Mr Richmond. However, they seem reluctant to leave the farm. While their belongings aren’t in the property anymore, they were. Mrs Glover claims she is now a tenant, but we have been to Richmond’s house and there is no tenancy agreement. Mr and Mrs Glover have broken into their old farm, despite having sold it to Mr Richmond, and despite knowing that he has been murdered. They have been availing themselves of the property without legal permission to be there.”
Chief Inspector Davies’ bushy brows shot skyward. “Thought you would make yourself a bit of money, eh?” he demanded of Mrs Glover, who glared back at him but refused to speak. “Where is he?”
“She won’t say,” Mark snorted. “But she will tell us. We will find him.”
Chief Inspector Davies raked the woman with a scornful look. “Book her, Meadows. Then get her in an interview room like Bosville says.” He looked at Mark. “Tell me when you interview her. I want to hear what she has to say. Any idea where her husband is yet?”
Mark shook his head. “We have just come from the Glover’s old farm. It appears that Mrs Glover has been telling the locals that Richmond didn’t give her a fair price for her farm, but it is a load of nonsense. We have paperwork from Richmond’s solicitor that confirms the Glovers were paid exactly what the farm was worth. However, it appears that a fair price wasn’t enough for the Glovers, who thought that they could take the money and keep the property.”
“Now, why would you reside in a property you no longer own, eh? Why would you tell everyone that Mr Richmond didn’t pay you a fair price for your farm? You must have known that the truth would come out eventually, especially when Mr Richmond heard about your lies. Where has all the money gone?”
“It’s probably gone with her vanishing husband,” the Duty Sergeant interrupted.
“It appears to me that you have killed Richmond to stop him objecting to you being on his farm,” Chief Inspector Davies murmured. “Better book her for all the murders until we can catch her husband. I want every man we have available after him.”
While Meadows turned to give orders to the stunned police officers in the entrance hall, Chief Inspector Davies looked at Mark. “Good work, Bosville. Maybe now we can restore a bit of order around here, eh?” He nodded briskly at Isaac before retreating to his office.