As he crossed the barnyard, he found himself face-to-face with Mrs. Farrell-Smith. She stood there, watching him approach along the path. There was something in the way she held herself that raised alarm bells in his head.

She said, “Policeman or not, you’re trespassing.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his voice level. “If I’d known you were in the school today, I’d have asked permission to enter the grounds.”

“What are you searching for? Something to identify the groundskeeper you believe was Tommy Summers?”

“I thought he might have come back here,” Rutledge answered. “It’s familiar, and that means safe. But it appears no one has been in the cottage for some time.”

“The greengrocer’s son has agreed to work for us. He still lives with his parents. Besides, I doubt Summers would even try to slip into the grounds. The staff know him by sight. Well. I suppose you must start somewhere.” She watched a dove circle the barn roof and then perch there, its voice soft on the summer air. “Is it true? Is it this Tom Summers who has done these murders?”

“As far as we can tell. Yes. The trouble is, we can’t find him. That’s why I came to look in the cottage.”

“You won’t be arresting Daniel Pierce, then?”

“Are you in love with him?” he asked.

She sighed, and to his amazement, appeared to answer the question honestly. “I think I’ve always loved him. Sadly, he didn’t love me. I thought perhaps in time—I was foolish, I know that now. I even thought I could use Anthony to make him jealous. But you can’t make someone jealous who doesn’t love you at all.”

“You defended him fiercely enough.”

She flushed. “I had a very good reason.” After a moment she met his gaze and said, “Come with me.”

He followed her back to the school building and through a side door into a shadowy passage. This led in turn to a staircase, and at the top he found that they were in the foyer outside her office. The door was standing wide—it was obvious she’d seen him walk to the school and go through the tradesman’s gate. She had made a point to follow him to find out what it was he was up to.

Pointing to a chair, she went to her desk, and with a key on a chain around her neck, she opened a bottom drawer.

Looking up at him again, she asked, “Do I have your word that you haven’t lied to me about Daniel or Tommy Summers?”

“You have my word,” he replied.

She reached into the drawer and brought out a thick envelope, then closed the drawer again.