“Where would he hear about him?” Mrs. Newcomb countered. “I daresay half the people in Eastfield have forgot about him by this time. I had, myself.”

But Tommy Summers may not have forgot Eastfield or the wretched years he’d spent here.

They talked for ten minutes or so longer, but Mrs. Newcomb had very little to add to what she’d already told him or he’d learned elsewhere. And so he took his leave.

Walking back down the rectory drive, Rutledge asked himself if Tommy Summers, a grown man now, could be slowly wreaking revenge on his erstwhile playmates. But then what about Carl Hopkins?

Chapter 16

16

Rutledge encountered Constable Petty on the High Street as he was walking back to the hotel.

Petty stopped, saying, “I was about to report to Inspector Norman.”

“Did you take anything from Inspector Mickelson’s room when you searched it earlier today?”

“No, sir, I did not. I made an inventory of his personal belongings. Inspector Norman was waiting for instructions from Scotland Yard regarding their disposition.”

“Is Mickelson in hospital in Hastings?”

“I was told he had been transferred to Chichester. There’s a man there who knows a good deal about head injuries. It wasn’t considered wise to try to move him to London.”

“No, I understand. I want a daily report on his condition. If you’re here to keep an eye on things for Inspector Norman, then you might as well serve me too.”

“Sir, I—”

“Yes, yes, I understand. You’re Hastings police. But I’ll have that report each day. I think you’ll find that Inspector Norman will raise no objections.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did Chief Inspector Hubbard leave?”

“He found someone from the hotel willing to take him to the station. Or so I was told.”

“How did you get here, Petty?”

“Bicycle, sir.”

“There’s something else you can do. Keep an eye out for motorcars similar to mine, but the color scheme may not be the same. I’d like to know where they’re going and who is driving them. If there’s one in Hastings Old Town that doesn’t belong there, I want to hear about that as well.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

Rutledge nodded and walked on.

Petty had only one loyalty. But Rutledge needed his eyes.

He brought back to mind the man he’d seen at The White Swans. Most likely Daniel Pierce, not Tommy Summers. The descriptions differed.

Hamish said, “Aye, but ye canna’ judge how the Summers lad looks now.”

And that was an important point.

As agreed, Constable Walker had collected his nephew, Billy Tuttle, Hector Marshall, and Alex Bullock, and they were waiting for Rutledge in the Eastfield police station.

They sat on the bench, stony faced, as if expecting Rutledge to lock them up again, already resisting what he was about to say.