A Pattern of Lies by Charles Todd

study windows we could hear the front door closing and then the carriages beginning to move down the drive. It was so loud in that room, as if the sound had come rushing back to invade and fill the silence.
    For a moment no one said a word.
    â€œMark, perhaps it would be best—­” I began, thinking that it would be an imposition for me to stay under the circumstances.
    Mrs. Ashton put out her hand. “Bess. No. You mustn’t leave.” Then to her son, she said, “I’ll see to his valise now. You must take it with you. It will make him more comfortable.”
    Clara stepped forward. “I’ll help,” she offered, but Mrs. Ashton shook her head.
    â€œThank you, dear, but I’d rather attend to it myself. You might speak to Mrs. Lacey about some sandwiches, and a Thermos of tea. I don’t know what they serve in such places.” And she walked from the room like someone in a dream, only half her mind on the present.
    Clara hurried after her, turning in the direction of the kitchen. The spaniel slipped out between them, and I could hear it scratching at the house door, asking to be let out.
    Mark stared at me, but I don’t think he saw me. Then he shook his head and said, quite simply, “Hell.”
    I waited, not wishing to intrude. I couldn’t imagine the police coming to take away the Colonel Sahib right in front of me. A shiver went through me at the thought. After a few seconds Mark’s gaze sharpened, and I knew he was back in the study once more.
    He said, as if apologizing, “There was nothing I could do. You do see that?”
    â€œThe last thing he would have wished is for you to make a scene. It would have been all the harder on your mother.”
    â€œI felt like knocking Brothers down.” His voice was suddenly quite savage, the aftermath of shock.
    â€œIt would only have made matters worse for your father. And very likely they’d have taken you as well, and where would your mother be then?”
    â€œYes. Still.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know if they’ll let me see him. But Mother will insist that I try.”
    Collecting my wits, I said, “They’ll search the valise. A formality, a precaution. And look at the food. You mustn’t argue. Let them do what they must. Then they’ll let your father have his things.” I wasn’t sure if this was true or not, if they’d take away the razor and anything that he might use to harm himself. But I knew that it mattered to Mrs. Ashton, and if only a few things reached her husband, she’d be able to breathe more easily.
    â€œYou’re quite right. Yes. I’ll remember.” And then his anger came surging back. “My father. Taken away in handcuffs. Of all the stupid, ridiculous, absurd things to do.” He slammed his fist down on the back of the chair nearest him, not noticing the pain. “Why would he kill men he knew, men who’d worked for him, men who’d worked at the brewery until it closed? He knew them all by name. It was a point of pride to be able to call a man by his name when speaking to him. He paid a decent wage. He saw to it that they had decent housing. There are cottages on the far side of the abbey for those who needed a place to live. What in God’s name could he gain, blowing up the mill?”
    â€œIf there’s little or no evidence, if it’s only rumor and speculation, the police will sort it out soon enough.” But Brothers had mentioned depositions. That was far more serious.
    Mark frowned. “I can’t imagine who these ‘witnesses’ are. According to the Army there was only one witness. I’d nearly forgot about that. He claimed he was fishing out in The Swale. Surely he can swear that when my father walked away that morning, the buildings were still standing, the men inside still alive. And that my father had nothing to do with the fire any more than he’d