A Lonely Death Read Online Free PDF

need your strength.”
    “I’ve loved her as long as I’ve known her,” Reginald said. “Max was aware of that. He knew I would have come for her sake if not his.”
    “Rest, while you can,” Rutledge said. “I’ll see that she’s all right.”
    He left the room, the sound of Reginald’s raucous breathing following him even after he had pulled the door closed behind him. On the stairs he found Rosemary sitting on one of the treads, out of sight on the landing. He thought she was crying, but she was simply sitting there, quietly staring into space. She turned as she heard his footsteps, and said, “Is he all right?”
    “He’s resting. It’s for the best.”
    She nodded. “He got a letter too.”
    “Did he?” He had said as much, but Rutledge hadn’t asked him the contents.
    “Everyone but me.”
    She stood up resolutely and walked down the stairs without looking back.
    The funeral the next day was well attended, although most of the people there had known Rosemary Hume most of her life, and Max Hume only for the past eight years, four of them interrupted by war. Rutledge was glad to see that she would have support after he had left. The service was simple, stressing the qualities of the man they were gathered to bury. And then it was time to follow the wooden coffin to its final resting place.
    Rutledge watched it being lowered gently into the ground, and as he took up a handful of earth to cast into the grave in his turn, Hamish said, “It willna’ be you, lying here. It’s no’ the answer.”
    But it had been in his mind, and Hamish knew it.
    No. Not yet, he silently answered as the earth spilled from his fingers to land softly on the coffin lid. And then he was following Rosemary and Reginald Hume back through the churchyard, to where his motorcar was ready to carry them to the house.
    A police constable stood by the bonnet, and he nodded to Rutledge as he came through the gates of the churchyard. Rosemary was settling Reginald in his seat, trying to save his energy for the meal already waiting at the house. She looked up to say something to Rutledge just as the constable stepped forward.
    “Inspector Rutledge?”
    “Yes, I’m Rutledge.”
    “A message from Scotland Yard, sir. Will you proceed with haste to Sussex. The village of Eastfield, just above Hastings. It’s a matter of some urgency.”
    Rutledge glanced at Rosemary Hume. “I’ll see my friends home first,” he said. The inquest was that afternoon. Rosemary had asked for it to wait until after the funeral. He knew she expected him to be present.
    She said, tentatively, “Ian?”
    “I’ll put in a call to the Yard. This may not be as urgent as it appears.”
    She shook her head. “It’s better if you go.”
    Surprised, Rutledge said, “But I thought—” and broke off.
    “I have my family now, and my friends. I don’t need Max any longer. I don’t need Max’s friends.”
    He was on the point of arguing when he caught Reginald’s eye. There was a warning there.
    After a moment Rutledge said, “Yes, I understand. But you know how to find me if you should change your mind.”
    “I won’t,” she said with finality. And when he had delivered his passengers at the Hume house, Rosemary offered him her hand as he stood ready to help her out of the motorcar. “Thank you for coming, Ian. It was very kind of you. Maxwell loved you in his way. I think because you understood better than the rest of us. Thank you for that, as well.”
    And she turned to offer her support to Reginald, her back to Rutledge.
    Reginald’s face was expressionless. But as he shook Rutledge’s hand, he said, “I’m glad you were here. Keep in touch, will you? I have a feeling about things sometimes. I’d like to hear from you.”
    Rosemary had gone ahead to open the house door and was out of earshot as Reginald spoke the last words. And then she was back, taking his arm as she steadied him on the short walk to the house.
    Rutledge saw them inside,