Page 29 of Winterset

“I cannot take credit for the idea, I’m afraid. It was my father’s,” Felton said.

Kit and Anna looked confused for a moment, then Kit said, “Oh, from the killings before…”

“The ones fifty years ago?” Reed asked. “I had wondered about those. Were they that similar?”

Kit nodded toward the doctor. “You had best ask Dr. Felton. He is the expert on the Beast of Craydon Tor murders.’”

Reed turned surprised eyes toward the doctor, who looked no more than five or ten years older than himself. “But surely you were not alive then.”

Dr. Felton smiled. “No. My father was the physician here at that time. He was young, had only been a doctor a few years when they happened. I was born a good many years later in his life. However, he kept all his notebooks from his practice, including the ones that he made regarding the two victims in those killings. He left them to me when he died a few years ago.” He shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. “I have always been somewhat fascinated with the Beast of Craydon Tor from the time I was a boy. Of course, back then, I believed wholeheartedly in a magical beast, part man, part animal, doomed to live that way eternally by a vengeful witch. Of course, those murders were part of that lore. I collected what writings I could find on the Beast, and several years ago, one of my older patients gave me a box of clippings she had collected on the subject—newspaper articles and such about the murders.”

“I see. So you have the definitive library on the subject?”

“Yes, I do.”

Reed looked at him speculatively. “I must say, I would be rather interested in looking at some of those articles.”

Felton looked surprised, but said politely, “You are welcome to come look at them if you wish.”

“Thank you. I will take you up on that offer. My sister and brother-in-law and I were speculating on the murders last night after everyone left.”

“Yes, I imagine it caused quite a stir at the party,” Felton commented.

“Oh, yes, no one talked of anything else after you left,” Anna told him. “The party ended soon after, needless to say.”

“What happened in the original murders, if you don’t mind my asking?” Reed asked the doctor. “Everything everyone said last night was rather, um, speculative.”

“You mean, there was a lot of wild talk about the Beast,” Anna said tartly. “People are willfully superstitious.”

“I was rather surprised to find that the vicar’s wife believed in the legend so enthusiastically,” Kit commented.

“I find it not that unusual for someone who has faith in God to also have faith in a good number of other things,” Reed said dryly. “And,” he added, “in all fairness, even I have to admit that I have seen some events that have shaken my disbelief in things magical or legendary.”

“Well, there was nothing magical or legendary about the murders forty-eight years ago,” Martin Felton put in. “When one reads the articles and books and such, they are written in a lurid way that sounds as if they were eerie and otherworldly, but once you have seen the drawings of the bodies in my father’s notebooks and read his notes, it is hard to view them as anything other than cold-blooded murders.”

“Who was killed that time?”

“The first was a servant girl, and the other was an old man, a farmer. Both had similar disfiguring marks upon them, as if a giant cat had scratched them. But the man actually died from a deep puncture wound in his back, and amid the cuts on the girl’s throat, there was the distinct slice of a knife.” Felton glanced over at Anna. “I am sorry, Miss Holcomb, I forget myself. This is not fit conversation in front of a lady.”

“No, please, Dr. Felton, go on. I am fine,” Anna assured him. “I am made of sterner stuff than that, I think. I, too, would like to learn what happened. I have heard about the murders since I was a child, of course, but no one ever really explained them properly.”

“The culprit was never found, was he?” Kit asked.

“No. When the servant girl was killed, it was assumed that her fiancé had probably done it. He was arrested, but he was a tapster in the tavern, and there were a good number of witnesses who had seen him there, at least until closing. Then the second person was killed in the same way while the fiancé was still in jail, so they released him. No one could ever find any connection between the two victims, and there were no witnesses, no proof of anything. They never found who did it, and there were no more murders…at least, until now.”

“But it could not possibly be the same person,” Kit said.

“No, I wouldn’t think so. I mean, the murderer could still be alive, if he was fairly young at the time, but he would be quite old—at least in his seventies, I would think. It seems unlikely that he would have the strength to subdue a healthy young woman,” Felton responded.

“It would seem to me that whoever did it must be imitating the original murders,” Reed said. “Wouldn’t you think? That it is someone trying to make everyone believe that this Beast is the culprit.”

“That would seem reasonable,” the doctor agreed.

“But it tells us nothing useful about the killer,” Kit pointed out. “I mean, all we know is that he had heard about the original killings, which could be almost anyone in the area.”

“It would seem most likely that the killer was the man she was sneaking out to see,” Anna said. “Kit was saying so earlier.”

“It makes sense,” Reed agreed. “They quarrel about something. He kills her, then tries to cover it up by making the claw marks.”