Cornish Castle Mystery Collection: Tales of murder and mystery from Cornwall. Vivian Conroy
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СКАЧАТЬ case is different from what I usually come across. A man stabbed in a centuries-old dungeon while he was locked in and nobody could get to him. Something probably well planned and executed. Too bad I won’t have a lot of time to spend on it.’

      Oliver glanced at Guinevere. So their additional inspector was really up to his elbows in cases and wouldn’t be able to dig deep for motives. He’d probably look at the witness statements Eal had taken tonight. But Eal hadn’t bothered to ask any probing questions.

      LeFevre looked up at the castle’s imposing form. ‘This is also an unusual place. The whole setup on an island.’

      ‘There are more like it,’ Oliver said. ‘Not just here in Cornwall but also along the coast of France. Not a castle there, though, but an abbey. I guess it makes sense when you think about it. The water forms a natural protection.’

      ‘It sure saved them the trouble of digging a moat around it.’ LeFevre gestured. ‘Ah, there we are. Lead on into this dungeon.’

      After a few more minutes they were down in the dungeon. The lanterns were still lit as apparently nobody had thought to put them out. LeFevre looked at the cage that had a rope with a red flag on it woven through the bars. ‘That’s our crime scene?’

      ‘Yes.’ Oliver nodded at the rope. ‘The constable didn’t have any official police tape on him so we had to improvise.’

      ‘Fine. Now we can use this one here to do our little re-enactment of the murder.’

      LeFevre opened the door into the next cage and went in, crouching as his height didn’t allow him to stand up without brushing the top of his head on the ceiling. ‘Eal!’ he called out of the air hole. ‘Are you there?’

      There was a silence, and LeFevre had to call again before Eal responded. ‘I’m here.’ It sounded begrudging.

      ‘All right,’ LeFevre said. ‘I’m Haydock standing at the air hole. I’m leaning forward because I’m trying to see something outside. Passing time, whatever. Maybe I’ve heard a suspicious sound that the killer created to draw the victim to the air hole. You’re that killer. Can you get your fist through the air hole?’

      In a flash a fist appeared, and LeFevre could just duck away, instinctively, or the fist would have hit him full on the nose.

      ‘Is that correct?’ Eal’s voice asked sweetly from the outside.

      Oliver poked Guinevere with his elbow, a grin on his face.

      ‘Perfect,’ LeFevre said to Eal. ‘However, this would have stabbed the victim right in the face. Let me see. Are you sitting on your haunches?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Could you crouch lower? A woman might have been shorter and more agile.’

      Oliver suppressed a guffaw at this subtle sting.

      Eal’s fist came a little lower now. So apparently he was trying to follow the instructions.

      ‘Let’s try it this way.’ LeFevre took a hold of Eal’s wrist and tried to yank Eal’s arm further down to reach his chest.

      Outside Eal cried out in pain. LeFevre let go of his arm and said, ‘Doesn’t seem to be working. I don’t see how the knife could have been pushed into the victim’s chest with enough strength to kill him. The stab would then also have been downward. We’ll have to wait and see what the post-mortem report says about the stab wound’s angle.’

      Eal had pulled his fist back. Guinevere bet he was raving mad at the inspector’s antics.

      But LeFevre didn’t seem to notice or care. He was studying the air hole with an expression of utter concentration. ‘If Eal’s fist fits through, a woman’s fist certainly would. Her arm would be thinner so she would be able to push it in further. Still the angle wouldn’t be right.’

      Oliver leaned over to Guinevere. ‘Maybe he’ll ask you to go out and repeat the experiment? Your arm must be thinner than Eal’s.’ He lowered his voice even further to add, ‘A younger person might have an even thinner arm.’

      Guinevere knew he was thinking of Tegen.

      LeFevre was done with the air hole and turned to study the cage construction. ‘The only way in is through the door? No secret passageways?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘And your father had the only key?’

      ‘Yes, the doors are normally never locked.’ Oliver gestured around him. ‘Haydock went down here and could get in by himself. The lanterns were already lit because Guinevere and I had done that earlier.’

      LeFevre nodded thoughtfully. He came out of the cell he had used for his experiment and went to the one secured with the rope and the red banner. He peered in. ‘Was the chair moved?’

      Oliver looked at it, frowning to remember. ‘Yes, I think it must have been moved when they took away the body. When we came in here and saw Haydock dead on the floor, the chair was lying there.’ He pointed. ‘Like it had toppled when he fell.’

      LeFevre studied the layout. ‘So he could have been stabbed near the air hole and, staggering back, he hit the chair, and it toppled with him as he fell to the floor.’ He looked at Guinevere. ‘Your idea that the air hole was used isn’t bad. Not bad at all.’

      Oliver seemed to get annoyed with the inspector’s appreciative tone. ‘You said yourself that the angle of the stab wound will be decisive.’

      ‘Of course.’ LeFevre peered again into the cage where it had all happened. ‘What’s that there?’ He leaned even closer, taking care not to touch the bars. ‘It seems there’s something dark on the floor.’

      Oliver came to stand beside him and peered in as well. ‘It looks like plant material. I remember that Haydock was wearing boots. That must have come off the soles.’

      ‘The path up to the castle is cobbled,’ LeFevre observed. ‘How would plant material end up on the soles of his boots?’

      ‘I have no idea. Maybe he had been hanging around the gardens, looking for something? He did treat the place like it was already his.’

      LeFevre studied Oliver. ‘You sound like you really didn’t like him.’

      ‘I didn’t kill him if that’s what you think. Guinevere was with me the whole time.’

      Guinevere nodded. ‘That’s true. Oliver had to stand in for the local playing the judge and I helped him rehearse his lines until the re-enactment started.’

      ‘And where were the others?’

      Oliver made a dismissive gesture. ‘Can’t be sure. My father was down here to lock the door. Everybody else was getting dressed, I suppose. Medieval garb and all that.’

      ‘Of course,’ Guinevere said, ‘Kensa and Tegen came already dressed. They need not have changed at all. They had time to …’ She let it hang. If LeFevre had little time for the case, it was important they handed him some starting points that would pique his interest.

      LeFevre СКАЧАТЬ