Fire in the Thatch by Edith Caroline Rivett

At the same time that Gressingham and Radcliffe were coming to loggerheads over the matter of the writing bureau, Macdonald was driving himself on the main road to Shermouth, and his objective was the Auxiliary Naval Hospital where Nicholas Vaughan had been treated in the first months after he had been wounded. Later he had been moved to the Convalescent Home at Torhampton, and Macdonald intended to go on to the latter establishment if need be. As he drove he considered all the enquiries he had set on foot, taxing his brains to discover if any consideration had been neglected. Miss Elizabeth Vaughan’s movements and acquaintances were being followed up by a woman detective who was in one of the services. The Hawkins family—the alternative inheritors of Lannerdale—were also being subject to scrutiny. Mrs. Thomas Gressingham’s activities as an auxiliary ambulance driver were being enquired into, likewise the excursions of Mr. Raymond Radcliffe. The latter had often been seen about in the evenings, and it was said—with what truth Macdonald was uncertain—that he pursued some of the Land Girls who were billeted in the locality.

As he drove, Macdonald pondered over the evidence he had collected during his four days in Devonshire, trying to weigh it up fairly and put it against the evidence which had led the jury to return a verdict of accidental death. Could it be said that he had disproved that verdict? He had to admit that it still remained a matter of weighing probabilities. He had proved to his own satisfaction that the causes of fire suggested by the Coroner—defective wiring or a beam bared in the kitchen chimney—had not been the agents which led to the fire. For the rest, his theories were based on evidence which few would consider conclusive. Macdonald believed himself that Vaughan had been murdered before he reentered Little Thatch, and his argument for this belief was one that would not prove convincing to many. He argued that, given normal conditions, Vaughan having put his car away would have gone to shut up the ducks before he entered the house. It was growing dusk, and it seemed the natural thing to do to shut up the ducks before going indoors—and they had not been shut up. Although country people went early to bed, Macdonald did not believe that Vaughan would have gone to bed before half-past nine, yet Colonel St Cyres said there was no light showing in the house. It would certainly have been too dark inside the cottage at that hour to read or to write, and Macdonald had learned, by persistent enquiry, that Vaughan did not habitually go to bed early. His windows could be seen across the valley, and a farmer and cottagers from across the river Mallow had said that the faint light from Vaughan’s curtained windows was always observable “late,” late meaning after the hour that most country folk went to bed. Superintendent Bolton and his men had made very thorough enquiries as to whether any stranger had been seen in the vicinity of the Mallorys on the evening of April 30th, and could get no evidence of any one seen on roads or fields or bypaths. Young Alf’s evidence remained uncontradicted: between nine o’clock and half-past ten two vehicles only had passed Corner Cottage on the road to Mallory Fitzjohn—one was Vaughan’s Morris, going towards the Mallorys, one was Gressingham’s Daimler travelling in the other direction. If a car or pedestrian had approached from the other side of the river the route would still have led past Corner Cottage, because this was the only road leading to Little Thatch. There was an alternative private road which led to Manor Thatch, but anybody using this would have had to pass along the drive of the Manor itself—a very improbable route.