* * *
It was early morning and the frost was still on the ground in the shaded areas as Constable Hopwood rode out to Langley Park. He had spoken to Jim Hawkins yesterday and he concurred that it would be better if the Constable informed Matilda and Emily Langley the circumstances of Robert’s death.
The warmth of the rising sun felt good beneath his thick navy blue coat as he reached the front yard of the Langley house, smoke was spiraling into the air from one of the chimneys.
He climbed from his horse, stretched his stiffened legs and tied the reins to the hitching rail, and strode up the steps. His boots sounded loud on the verandah floor. He reached for the ornate brass knocker and gave it a couple of quick raps.
He heard voices and then the door swung open, it was Emily Langley. He recognized her from the funeral. She was dressed simply in a green dress and wore slippers on her feet. He removed his cap.
“Mrs Langley, I’m Constable Hopwood, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you and your mother-in-law.”
“What sort of bad news?” she asked with a quizzical look on her face as she thought of her husband who hadn’t returned last night, although that was not unusual as he often stayed out drinking with no thought of her or the children.
“Might I come inside?”
“Of course, Constable,” said Emily, closing the door behind them.
“Join us in the sitting room, Constable,” said Emily as she led the way.
The elder Mrs Langley was seated in a lounge chair in front of the open fire with a book in her lap, her face devoid of any emotion. She glanced up and nodded to him as he entered the room. Emily sat down in the other chair angled towards the fire.
“What is that you have to tell us, Constable?”
“Yesterday evening, Robert Langley, along with Frank O’Connor, entered a local residence with intent to murder, their plan came unstuck, Robert was shot dead and Frank O’Connor was killed in a fight.
Mrs Langley stopped reading, she looked across at Emily, their eyes met, neither of their faces showed any feeling, any sudden sensation of sorrow. Mrs Langley lifted her eyes to Constable Hopwood who was standing with his hands behind his back holding his hat.
“This is quite a shock, Constable, how did this all come about?”
“Did your son give you the message I delivered the other day.”
“No, Robert never said anything.”
It was now obvious that Robert had deliberately kept the information to himself with the intent of murdering his sister to ensure that he inherited the farm. But how had he planned to get away with it, that was the question that was still troubling Constable Hopwood?
Then there was the stranger turning up out of the blue, he had shot Robert with a shotgun, thus saving the lives of Lillian and Matilda. Who was he? Lillian and Matilda both claimed to be in a state of shock, it had happened so quickly that they couldn’t even remember what the man looked like, so they claimed. He had a feeling that they knew who the man was but would not reveal his identity for some reason. Then there was the body of the overseer, Ned Willis, who had killed him and why?
“The message I gave your son, Mrs Langley, was that your daughter, Lillian, is alive and well.”
The book fell from Mrs Langley’s lap as she stood up and stared at Constable Hopwood. “My daughter is alive?”
“Yes, it seems that Robert was probably afraid that the return of his sister might mean that he would not inherit Langley Park. He intended to slay her and her daughter.”
Emily could see that Mrs Langley was teetering on her feet and looked faint. She quickly rushed to her side and held her.
“Her daughter was here, at my husband’s funeral, wasn’t she?” said Mrs Langley as Emily gently eased her back into her chair.
“Yes, she was, Mrs Langley,” replied Constable Hopwood feeling proud of the fact that he knew Matilda, knew all the family. “Lillian and her family are coming to see you. In fact, they are probably on the way as I speak.”
“Who did she marry, and how many children does she have?” asked Mrs Langley.
“I hope you will forgive me if I refrain from answering your question as I am sure Lillian will want to surprise you, to introduce her family to you herself.”
“What are your instructions regarding your son’s body, Mrs Langley?” It was a question that had to be asked; it had to be finalised in some way.
“See that he is buried in the town cemetery,” said Mrs Langley, she didn’t want her son buried on the property, to be honoured in any way. “Tell the undertaker I will pay for both funerals, it is the least I can do.”
“Thank you ladies, I will leave you now.”
Emily saw Constable Hopwood to the door, watched him climb up on his horse and ride off. She should be feeling some grief for her husband, but all she felt was relief, knowing that she would never again have to suffer his humiliating drunken tirades, his beatings and fowl temper. She shut the door and turned to walk back down the passage, she felt like dancing, but that would be highly inappropriate, she would have to maintain some sort of dignity, some sort of decorum, and put on the face of a grieving widow. She stepped into the sitting room. Mrs Langley looked up at her.
“I feel nothing for the death of my son, is that so wrong, Emily?”
“No, it is not, Mrs Langley. We are both free of him now.”
“Well, we had better prepare ourselves to receive some guests. What are you going to tell the children?”
“The truth, Mrs Langley, I’ll not live with a lie.”