He left, then, letting himself out, and as he walked back toward the hotel, Hamish said, “Do ye believe her?”

“I’ll have the answer to that when I catch Summers. For all I know, she hates Daniel Pierce and sees this as a way to punish him for his rejection of her.”

At the end of the street, he stopped and looked back at the school, feeling as if he were being watched.

Mrs. Farrell-Smith was standing at her window, as if to be certain he had left the premises.

He was about to walk on when out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow at a window above hers.

He kept going, showing no sign of having noticed.

The school was closed for a week. Was it Daniel Pierce waiting for Rutledge to leave, or was it Tommy Summers back in Sussex and using the empty building to hide from the police?

Out of sight of the school, Rutledge stopped and considered how best to extract Mrs. Farrell-Smith without alerting whoever it was at the window above hers. Surely she would remain in her office a few minutes longer. He had a little time.

Moving quickly, he went down a list of people he could trust. Constable Walker would arouse suspicion, coming on the heels of Rutledge’s visit. Mr. Ottley, from St. Mary’s? Neither seemed to be the best choice. Summers would be on alert.

Coming toward him was Mrs. Winslow. She was walking with her head down, eyes on the road, but she carried a marketing basket over one arm.

He thought there was a good chance that Mrs. Farrell-Smith would let her in. But with what excuse? She had no children in the school. No reason to call.

Just behind her was Tyrell Pierce’s clerk, Starret, hurrying in the direction of the brewery with an envelope in his hand.

Rutledge touched his hat to Mrs. Winslow and after she had gone on her way, stopped Starret.

“Sir?” the man asked, looking up at him.

“I need a favor, Starret. Will you go to the Misses Tate School and hand a message to Mrs. Farrell-Smith? She’s there at the moment. I’d like it to appear that Mr. Pierce has asked to speak to her.”

“But he hasn’t, and I have this account to return to the brewery office.”

Rutledge smiled. “I’d like to invite Mrs. Farrell-Smith to dinner. But we got off on the wrong footing, and I’m afraid she won’t see me. Perhaps you’d help me lure her out of the school where I could speak to her. I’ll explain the subterfuge when I see her.”

“I really can’t oblige you, sir. Mr. Pierce was most strict in his instructions.”