He led her out of the small plot to a jumble of boulders at the corner of the cemetery. He lifted her up to sit on one, then hoisted himself up alongside.
They looked up the sunlit valley to where the house stood high on the rise with the cliff at its back. The sun struck the windows, made them wink and gleam.
She didn't need words to know they were thinking the same thing.
"Which cliff was it?" Swivelling, she studied the ragged cliffs that formed a backdrop to the village.
He pointed to a towering escarpment. "That one. Froggatt Edge."
She considered it, considered the distance from the village, the sheer drop to the broken ground below. "Tell me again-what happened that morning when you set out to find Sarah's father?"
He hesitated for only an instant, then turned and pointed to a cottage down a narrow lane. "I went to Buxton's house first. When the housekeeper told me he'd gone walking, I thought for a minute, then took that path." Pointing, he traced a well-worn path that led from the lane across the fields to the escarpment. "It climbs around the side of the Edge, and comes out some way back from the lip."
He paused, then went on, "I didn't see or hear anyone or anything, but the path goes up that cleft and needs concentration-it's not an easy stroll. On top of that, I was in a rage-a gunshot I might have heard, but anything less might well not have penetrated.
"When I got to the top, it was deserted, as I'd expected it to be. I'd gone up because from there I would have been able to see Buxton if he was anywhere around. I walked to the lip and looked. All around, everywhere. I didn't see anyone. I remember suddenly feeling cold, deathly cold. Then I noticed the buzzards. They were circling below the lip. I went right to the edge and looked down."
He stopped; after a moment, she prompted, "Where was it that he'd fallen?"
Martin pointed to the base of the escarpment, to where the ground was broken by upthrusting rock and scattered boulders. "There's a gap between the rocks. You can't see in until you actually reach it-or unless you look down from the top. I remember… it looked like Buxton, and the first thought I had was that I was glad he was dead. I thought he must have thrown himself off in remorse and guilt."
"You came down to check."
"I wasn't sure it was him. He was lying facedown, and besides, what if he wasn't dead? I couldn't just leave him there."
"How did you get down?"
"The same way I got up."
She considered the distances. "Is there another way down from the top to where he fell?"
Martin pointed to the other side of Froggatt Edge. "There's a much steeper path down that side. It's shorter, but I didn't take it because it's more dangerous, and usually that means slower."
"So you got to the bottom, to where the man was, and…?"
"He'd been turned over and his skull had been bashed in with a rock."
Amanda stared. "Between the time you saw him from the top and reaching him at the bottom?"
Martin nodded. "Someone had been there in between and whoever it was had made sure he was dead. The rock was covering his face. I still wasn't sure… so I picked up the rock."
"And that's when the villagers found you."
He* nodded. "I lifted the rock and saw… then I heard them coming and looked up, and there they were, crowding in…" He refocused and shook his head. "I must have been in shock. I know that now, but then… nothing like that had ever happened in my life. I'd just learned Sarah had died, that people assumed I'd… and then that. I don't know what I said, truth to tell, although I do know that later I insisted I hadn't done it."
Amanda frowned. "You said the villagers had seen a gentleman they thought was you throw the old man over the edge."
Martin waved at the forge. "The blacksmith was working-the back of the forge was open. He happened to glance up and see two men-old Buxton and a young gentleman he mistook for me-struggling on the Edge. He saw the man push Buxton over. He downed tools, doused what he was working on, then rounded up some others and raced for the spot."
Amanda fitted the information together like a jigsaw in her mind. "So… Buxton goes out walking-he goes up to Froggatt Edge. Is that likely?"
"Many walk up there. It's a popular spot."
"Very well-he goes up and walks. You come to his house, then set off for the Edge, quite coincidentally, to locate him. But someone else who also wanted to find Buxton is before you. While you're climbing up, he struggles with Buxton and pushes him off. The blacksmith sees, douses his work and rushes off to get help. Then, not sure Buxton is dead, the murderer pelts down by the other path to finish him off. Meanwhile, you reach the top, look around, and see Buxton, lying facedown. You couldn't see that other path from the top, could you?"
His face impassive, Martin shook his head.
"You decide to go back down and check for life. You go down by the first path. Could you see the spot where Buxton fell from that path?"