Legacy of the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

he slapped a file on the desk.
    “There’s a spot of trouble in the north, close by Durham, and it seems you’re wanted to handle it.” He opened the file, reached for a sheet of paper with a dozen paragraphs scrawled across it in heavy ink, and scowled at it. “Here’s the long and short of it. And the reports to confirm it.”
    The Scottish police—with permission from their counterparts in England—had come to a village some miles west of Durham to tell a woman that it was possible her daughter’s remains had been discovered on a Scottish mountainside in a place called Glencoe. Lady Maude Gray took exception to the Scottish Inspector’s manner and insinuations, and she had her butler throw him out. This didn’t sit well with his Chief Constable, who complained to the Chief Constable across the border. Neither of them could persuade her ladyship to give them so much as the time of day.
    “You’re being sent to smooth troubled waters, in a manner of speaking, and to find out whatever you can about this missing girl. The Scottish police will be grateful. As far as I can tell, reading between the lines, her ladyship is highly thought of in certain circles and she’s strong-minded enough to do as she pleases. You’ll need every ounce of diplomacy you possess to get through the door, much less into her presence. But failure is unacceptable. Do you understand me?”
    Rutledge understood very well. If he annoyed her further, Lady Maude could crucify all of them. If he left without seeing her, it would be viewed as his incompetence.
    He took the papers Bowles thrust at him and, when the Chief Superintendent had gone, read them over. The facts of the case itself appeared to be simple enough. The problem lay in Lady Maude Gray’s refusal to discuss her daughter with anyone. The local police had noted:
“She has never reported her daughter missing, but it is understood in the neighborhood that there was a rift between them that resulted in the
daughter leaving early in 1916. When the young woman came
into a large inheritance in 1918, the family solicitor advertised
throughout the country for her to contact him directly, and the
girl failed to do so.”
Further discreet inquiries by the solicitor discovered that none of her acquaintance had had word of or from her either. The solicitor reported his concern and asked for police help in locating her. That search was inconclusive as well.
“It may well be that the remains found in
Scotland are those of Eleanor Victoria Maude Gray—height
and age appear to be a close match, and the time of death
(thought to be autumn 1916) appears to be consistent with the
last time anyone saw her. Her mother refuses all comment.”
    The Scottish police were convinced that the mother’s refusal had to do with the fact that the daughter had been pregnant. The English police were reluctant to conclude that that was the cause of the quarrel between the two women. Some stiffness between the two jurisdictions had developed—the Scottish police believed they had already identified Eleanor’s murderer, while the English police were unsure that the girl was in fact dead.
    Rutledge looked out the window at the rain streaking the grimy panes and the wet pigeons huddled in whatever shelter they could find. He’d hated the rain in the trenches, it was a torment of body and spirit. Wet wool, the stench of urine or vomit, the heavy sweetness of rotting flesh, the stink of dirty bodies, the slick, black, filthy mud that weighed down boots and caked faces and hands and matted hair under the helmets. The low clouds that hid the gas—
    The drive north ought to be pleasanter than the weather here, he mused. And Hamish, a countryman at heart, found that thought agreeable as well. Rutledge took out his watch, realized that he might reach York before nightfall. He stood and stretched, set his current files in order, then walked out of his office and closed the door behind him.
    Down the passage, walking