Read A Fine Summer's Day for Free Online Page A

sign in the window. As far as he could tell, it was empty. Rutledge turned back to the Calder house and walked up the short path to the dark green door and knocked. The front garden was trim, well kept, like that of number 17. If Mr. Clayton did the gardening himself, then there must have been an occasional chat between neighbors, if only about the plantings.
    There was no answer. Although he tried a second time, the house felt empty, as if no one were at home.
    He walked back down the path just as a woman stepped out of number 12 with a market basket over her arm.
    Rutledge caught her up, and, removing his hat, politely asked if she knew where he could find Mrs. Calder.
    She examined him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, as if uncertain whether to reply.
    â€œI’m from London,” he said in explanation. “Here on a matter of business.”
    That whetted her curiosity. She turned to stare at the Calder house, then turned back to Rutledge. “She’s often in the tea shop by the harbor at this time of day. The Tea Cozy. Her sister owns it, and she helps out if they’re busy.”
    Rutledge thanked her, and as she was going in the same direction down the hill, he said, “I’ve been told there was an unpleasantness on this street several days ago. I’m surprised you spoke to a stranger from London.”
    â€œIt was shocking,” she agreed. “Poor Mr. Clayton. Hanged, he was.” She shivered. “I didn’t sleep a wink for the next two nights. I told Mrs. Calder she was welcome to come and stay with me. For the company, you understand. Her husband is away, taking their son to Thirsk to visit a cousin on Mr. Calder’s side of the family.”
    â€œShe was alone, then, in her house?”
    â€œIndeed she was. And in the morning she heard such a scream as would curdle milk. It was Miss Clayton coming home and finding her father like that. She fainted, and it was several minutes before she came to herself and fled to Mrs. Calder, who had come to her door and was looking to see what the screaming was about. Miss Clayton begged her to find someone to help cut the poor man down. Together they went to find a constable, and the police came. They saw to everything. And Miss Clayton went back to her brother’s house, I’m told, refusing to stay in number seventeen alone.”
    â€œHow old is Miss Clayton?”
    â€œEighteen last May, poor love.”
    He nodded, agreeing with the unspoken thought that she was too young to have suffered such a shock. “Why was she out? Had she gone to market?”
    â€œShe’d spent the previous two nights at her brother’s house. His wife is expecting their first child and it’s been a difficult time for her. I told my husband that it was a lucky thing too, or Annie might have been killed as well.”
    â€œI can’t think who could have done such a thing to Mr. Clayton,” Rutledge said as they came to the junction with the main road down to the harbor.
    â€œNone of us can. He’s never been one for the drink, and he wasn’t a betting man. Since his wife’s death, he’s never so much as looked at another woman,” she added approvingly, as if this were a measure of his regard for his late wife.
    â€œHow long has she been dead?”
    â€œSix years. She died of a tumor.”
    They walked in silence for a time, and then Rutledge said, “Did Mr. Clayton have any enemies? Anyone who was jealous of him? Or who had a grudge against him, or perhaps against his shop?”
    â€œI can’t think of anyone,” she said, “and that makes it worse, doesn’t it?” She sighed. “We never locked our doors. It took me over an hour to find the old key, but we lock them now, Tom and I. I expect Mrs. Calder does as well.”
    They had reached the greengrocer’s shop, and his companion stopped. “You can’t miss The Tea Cozy. At the end of this