Rutledge said after a moment, “Why did she need them last night?”

“I expect it was Peter, the sound he made as he fell. She said she could still hear it. It was a shock for all of us. I don’t know how Amy held up. She watched him die.”

Rutledge let another silence fall. Then he said, “Do you think your brother’s death might have been intentional? Rather than facing trial and the publicity that will come in its wake, affecting the whole family. He couldn’t have foreseen he’d have been exonerated.”

“If Peter had wanted to escape anything, he would have gone somewhere quiet and private and shot himself. There are enough grounds here at Witch Hazel Farm for him to do that.”

“A good point. Who was Florence Teller? In truth?”

That brought Walter Teller out of his chair. “Now that Mary is here, we must break the news to my son. If you will excuse me?”

And he was gone.

Jessup came to say that he was ready for the body to be taken away. But Leticia Teller had asked him to wait until her brother and his wife arrived. Pulling out his pocket watch, he stood there considering time and distance. “Another hour, at best. I’ve told Dr. Fielding that he can leave.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Jessup said, “You’re sure there’s not something more I ought to know?”

Rutledge answered, “There was an inquiry in Lancashire. As it happened, Captain Teller was an unwitting witness. He called on someone there, and shortly afterward, she was murdered. The woman who killed her is now in custody. We shan’t have his evidence at the trial, but I don’t think we’ll have any worries about a conviction. Two policemen heard the murderer confess.”

“I didn’t know he was recently in Lancashire.”

“It was during the time when his brother was ill.”

“I’m beginning to think there’s much I haven’t been told.” “Walter Teller’s disappearance was a London matter. The murder took place in Lancashire.”

“And I’ve got two deaths here.”

“So you have.”

“Fielding said something about Teller’s illness worrying his wife as well as her husband’s disappearance. What was the nature of his illness? Was there any diagnosis?”

“Worry,” Rutledge said succinctly. “His mission society would like to see him back in the field.”

“I’m sure they would. Good publicity for them, with Walter Teller back in harness, perhaps another book in the offing. What does Teller think?”

“You must ask him. He may be needed here now, with a motherless son.”

“True enough. I’m not one for traveling in places where I’m not wanted. I’ve never seen the good in telling other people how to live and how to believe. Still, I admire those who can do such things.”

Jessup was fishing, Rutledge thought, and knew his business.