A Murder In Hartley (Part 3)
Origin of Murder Series
“Mr. Stanford, good to see you.” Jack smiled warmly as the Superintendent navigated his way through the bustling room, and towards the small table nestled by the crackling fire.
“And you, Jack.” The Superintendent delivered a firm handshake and then sat down. “I thought you had gone back to base?”
“I had, but I was allowed this evening off, and there was something I really was hoping to talk to you about. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”
There was a twinkle in the Superintendent’s eyes. “Go on…”
Jack knotted his hands uneasily. “Well, you see, it’s about Emma…” he paused, his earnest eyes watching the Superintendent.
“Ah yes…well, what about Emma?”
“Well, I was wondering…or hoping…if I might have your permission to ask her to marry me? I love her so much, and she’s become my best friend. I’m willing to do whatever I need to, to love her and protect her.” A soft sigh of relief escaped his lips.
The Superintendent leaned back in his chair, a smile wreaking havoc on his face. “And what makes you think you’re good enough for my girl?”
“I don’t think I am, sir. But I do love her, with all my heart, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together.” His tone was earnest and trustworthy.
“I know Jack, and I’ve seen the way you treat her. You’re honest, sacrificial, and I know you’ll look after her. You’re a real gentleman.”
“So is that a yes, sir?”
“Most definitely, and it gives me the greatest delight too.”
“Thank you so much, sir. I promise to look after her to the best of my ability.”
“I trust you will.” The Superintendent smiled kindly, pleased with Jack’s sincerity.
“Oh and sir, could you give these to Em please?” He lifted a bunch of snowdrops from the table.
“She does love her flowers, doesn’t she.” The Superintendent laughed softly.
“Yes sir, she sure does. I’m just sorry I can’t get her favourites - foxgloves aren’t really around any more this time of year. I think I found the remaining few last week, and gave them to her.”
Silence reigned for a moment. The Superintendent’s face was ash-white, and his voice almost a whisper. “You what?”
“I gave her a few stems of foxgloves, like I always did when they were in bloom. Are you alright, sir? You don’t look very well.” Jack rested his hand on the Superintendent’s shoulder, a worried look cast across his eyes.
“Where were you, Jack? I mean, when Jimmy was killed? It was about eight pm on the fourth.”
Jack started with surprise. “Me sir? I was with my parents, at home.” He looked distressed. “I didn’t do it, sir. You have my absolute word on it. I’d never kill a person.”
“But you’re a soldier; it’s what you’re trained to do?”
“Yes sir, I know. I mean, murdering someone outside of war, I could never bring myself to do. It’s wrong sir, plain wrong.” His pleading eyes met the Superintendent’s sorrowful gaze. “You believe me, don’t you sir?”
“I want to Jack, but it’s not looking too good.”
“But what motive, sir, would I have to kill him? He’s always treated our family so well.” Drops of perspiration beaded his face.
“I don’t know, Jack, I don’t know. I agree - I don’t see why you would, but I still have to treat you as a suspect. I’m going to speak to your parents, to verify your statement.”
“Yes sir, I understand. But I promise you, and I give you my word on it, I had nothing to do with his death, nor would I have wanted to.”
The Superintendent shifted his chair back and stood up. “Thank you, Jack. Now, if you’re really telling me the truth, I expect to be able to find you back at the base, should I have need to.”
Jack rose as well. “Yes sir, I will be there. I’m not going anywhere.”
The Superintendent began to walk off, but then paused, and turning back around, he passed the snowdrops back to Jack. “I’m sorry, Jack; I just can’t give these right now.”
The pain of this moment was etched across the young man’s face. “Yes sir, I understand.”
The air outside felt raw against the Superintendent’s face as he left the Twin Barrels, and made his way toward Jack’s parents’ house. The moon was out in full display tonight, lavishing a warm white light across the desolate streets.
Knock, Knock.
“Who’s there?” A low voice called from inside.
“Jerry, It’s me, Oliver Stanton. I’m so sorry to bother you at this time, but I have to ask you something.” His tone was earnest.
The door soon opened, and Jack’s father appeared. “Oh Oliver, I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Whatever is the matter? Is it to do with Jack? Is he alright?”
“Can I come in first?” The Superintendent followed Jerry through into the sitting room, where Jack’s mother, Eliza, was standing, a worried look cast across her face.
“Is everything alright?” She stepped forward.
“Look, I’m really sorry to bother you, but it’s to do with my investigation into Jimmy Nib’s murder.” The Superintendent watched the other two as they glanced at each other with marked concern. “Where was Jack, on the eve of the fourth?”
“Oh,” Eliza withered into one of the chairs. “You don’t think it was him, do you?”
“I have to ask, Eliza. I’m sorry.” The Superintendent’s tone was soft, and it was obvious it was the last question he wanted to be asking.
“He was here with us for the whole day - during the afternoon he and I both worked on the farm, and he didn’t leave, at any point, and then in the evening we read part of a book out loud, together, and then went to bed.” Jerry sounded convincing, and the Superintendent had no reason to disbelieve him. “I can tell, completely honestly, that our son didn’t have anything to do with Jimmy’s murder. That man was a family friend, and Jack would never have laid a finger on him.”
The Superintendent sighed heavily. “Jimmy was deliberately poisoned by foxgloves, and as I’m sure you’re aware, there aren’t any more of them around now. Jack admitted to me, that he had picked the last few for Emma.”
“But that doesn’t mean he did it?” Eliza cried, holding a handkerchief to her eyes.
“I know, and I’m not saying he did, but it does make him a suspect when he’s been in possession of the very thing that killed Jimmy. What can you tell me about Jimmy, anyway?”
Jerry stepped next to his wife and laid a hand gently upon her shuddering shoulders. “He was a great man, and he often helped us out on the farm. He did have his ups and downs, but since giving up the drink, he really had improved.”
“And how did you feel about him being a CO?”
The two looked surprised. “It didn’t bother us a bit - we understood why he’d chosen that. Even Jack didn’t mind. He actually respected him for it.”
“And when was the last time you saw him?”
Jerry hesitated. “Actually, we saw him that day, about five in the evening. You probably already know this, but he was heading to your house…”
The Superintendent started. “My house?”
“Yes, he said Emma had invited him around for some tea - I think she had wanted to talk to him about, oh what did he say it was?”
“The preparations for Bonfire Night,” Eliza softly interjected.
“Ah yes that was it.” A confused look besieged Jerry’s countenance. “You don’t mean to say you didn’t know about this?”
Dread flickered across the Superintendent’s eyes for a moment, but he quickly moved on. “No, I had no knowledge of this, but I must talk to Emma about it. But what reason would she have…“ He paused and then continued. “I best be going - thank you again for your time, and I apologise for the late hour.”
“No apology needed, Oliver. We understand.” They both rose, smiling kindly at the Superintendent. “What does that mean for Jack?”
“Well, I can’t say for sure yet, but this isn’t at all going how I expected it would. He still remains a suspect, even though I believe you, but I’ll have more of an idea tomorrow.”
Jerry followed the Superintendent to the door. “Oliver, I really hope neither of our children have anything to do with this awful business.”
“So do I.”