Behind The Horseman (The Underwood Mysteries Book 3) by Suzanne Downes

reality to cogitate upon his future.  Accordingly Underwood and Dr. Russell retired to the damaged parlour to drink the rest of the claret and discuss life.  As they sat, Underwood glanced about him, imagining the carnage which would have ensued had the explosive device actually gone off.  As it stood, most of the damage inflicted had been by soot and smoke.   The wall above the fireplace and the stone mantle were blackened, a picture which had hung on the chimney breast was burned beyond repair and stood outside the back door, to await disposal.  The hearth stones had saved the oak floor from real harm and all that had been necessary to restore the rest of the room to its former state had been a thorough cleaning.  Of course there was still a definite aroma of burnt wood and cloth, but that would wear off with time.  Dr. Russell watched his companion’s face as he perused their surroundings, “Is there something you are not telling me, Underwood?”
    Brought back to himself by this intuitive remark, Underwood could do nothing but smile wryly and reply, “Was I so transparent as a boy, Theodore?  If so, I can understand why you always seemed to know when I had failed to complete the tasks you set me.”
    “I like to think I am not insensitive, my friend, but I admit it does not take a great talent for deduction to know there is something worrying you.”
    “Dammit!  I had hoped it was not so apparent.  Tell me Verity has not noticed.”
    “Calm down, Underwood.  I’m sure Verity noticed nothing, but why is it so important she should not?  Never tell me you are conducting a clandestine affair.”
    “Certainly not!  What manner of man do you think I am?”
    Dr. Russell smiled kindly at his tone of abhorrence, “I do beg your pardon – but an affair is usually the reason why a man does not wish his wife to notice his demeanour.”
    “That is not the case here, I assure you.”
    “Then what is it?”
    Underwood, recalling his affection for a man of great humanity, kindness, wisdom and integrity, needed no further encouragement.  The whole story came tumbling out, including the incident of the fire, without omissions, and his suspicions concerning Godfrey Rogers.
    “Do you think he is capable of such behaviour?” he asked, greatly troubled that he was being unjust to a young man who might not deserve it.
    Dr. Russell considered the question carefully before giving a measured answer,  “Rogers left my care over a year ago, and boys growing into men can change a great deal in a very short space of time, but I have to say Godfrey possessed a peculiarly cruel streak, the like of which I have never encountered before.  He found things amusing which others would find only sickening.  Frankly, I think that young man is capable of almost anything.”
     
    *
     
    George Gratten, Constable of Hanbury, did not, on the face of it, have either the figure or the demeanour of a knight in shining armour, but that was how Underwood came to view him on the following morning when he met him on the street, “Well met, Underwood.  The very man I wished to see.”
    “Good morning, sir.  Pray tell me you are not about to produce a corpse.  I don’t think my nerves could stand the strain of another investigation just yet.”
    Gratten laughed pleasantly for Underwood’s past help in the matter of bringing murderers to justice had done a great deal for his standing in the town.
    “No, my friend, your nerves may remain un-shredded.  I merely wanted to ask if your lady wife is now sufficiently well to execute a commission for me.”
    “That would, of course, entirely depend upon the nature of the commission.”
    “Quite.  It is my portrait.  She did agree some weeks ago now, that she would paint my picture, but as Christmas speedily approaches, I fear time will run out.  If I am to present the portrait to my wife for the festive season …”
    Under normal circumstances, Underwood might have greeted this request