Lies and Misdemeanours

“God, that bastard deserves to swing,” Simon whispered.

“He will,” Charlie assured him. “Not even the best solicitor in the country can get him off with just a prison sentence.”

Hetty was suddenly sick of discussing death, prison sentences and hangings. It seemed to be all anyone ever talked about. It was so run-of-the-mill to them that she just couldn’t understand how they could be so blaze about such a momentous event. Each and every time she closed her eyes, she could still see those nooses hanging, silently waiting for their prey.

“I have to get some air,” she whispered weakly.

At that moment, the door to the temporary holding cell opened, and Barnaby appeared. He looked at Charlie. “Come on back in, you need to witness this.”

Charlie nodded, but threw a warning look at Hetty. “Don’t go outside. Sit at a window if you need to, but don’t go outside.”

“Joshua is seeing to the horses,” Hetty argued. “I am going to stand and talk to him for a while.”

Hetty stomped out of the door before he could say anything else. She hated being so afraid of just doing even the simplest things. Stepping outside and taking some air was something that she had done every day for as long as she could remember. To be denied that now seemed overly cautious; ridiculous even.

After all, what could happen to her?

Half an hour later, Charlie closed the door to the holding cell with a sigh of relief.

The signature was on the parchment which was now tucked safely in Hugo’s hand. It would be added to Mrs Blagmire’s account of her experiences at Meldrew’s hands and, together with his and Simon’s statements would be enough to ensure that Meldrew could now be arrested for extortion, murder, and many other crimes yet to be decided by Hugo.

“Where’s Hetty?” Charlie demanded as he stalked into the kitchen only to find it empty.

He found Wally and Simon playing cards in front of the fire in the library.

“Where’s Hetty? Has she taken a nap?” Charlie demanded.

“I thought she was with Joshua,” Wally replied with a frown.

Charlie stared at him for a moment. He tried to warn himself not to over-react, that everything was alright. She had been told not to leave the house. He shouldn’t panic – not yet. Still, his step was hurried as he made his way outside in search of her.

“She went back inside about twenty minutes ago,” Joshua grunted as he dropped the hoof he was picking and looked up at Charlie. “She is fine. I watched her go back inside. She must have taken a nap or something.”

He grinned at Charlie’s back. He had barely finished speaking before his colleague was hurrying off in search of the beautiful lady who had captured his heart.

When the horse beside him shifted impatiently, Joshua turned his attention back to the hoof, and tried to coax the horse to lift it off the ground again.

Charlie closed the bedroom door behind him, and eyed the wild cascade of his wife’s hair sprawled out amongst the white sheets.

She looked so tired that he tried hard not to disturb her. However, she looked so damned desirable that he just couldn’t bring himself to leave her.

He took a moment to lock the door before he tugged his shirt over his head, and made his way across the room.

“Charlie?” Hetty mumbled when the bed dipped beneath his weight and teased her out of her slumber.

Before she could open her eyes, her lips were captured at the same time that he drew her into his arms.

A shiver swept through her. She didn’t care about his colleagues downstairs; or even the fact that there was a killer in the house. Nothing was as important as the man who meant so much to her. She could deny him nothing.

“Charlie,” she whispered. “Is it over yet?”

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Soon. I promise.”

He didn’t want to tell her what was going to happen next. This was by far the most dangerous part of the investigation because what happened depended on Meldrew’s reaction; and the number of men he had around him at any given moment.

All of it paled into insignificance now though. He had to have a few moments alone with her, if only to reassure himself that she really was alright. She had been disconcertingly quiet downstairs while they had been questioning Snetterton. He was concerned that she was worrying about what was happening, but not talking to him about her concerns, and needed to find a way to get her to confide in him.

“Are you really alright?” he murmured gently. He leaned back so he could look deep into her eyes, but all he could see was slumberous desire that made him groan.