He asked for the old Customs records relating to Thomas Hart. A disappearance, possibly a presumed drowning. He gave the dates as closely as he remembered them.
Eleanor waited until he had finished.
“Should you ask Weller?”
“Not yet.”
“You think he might be Hart.”
“I want something better than a memory before I ask him.”
She looked back at the tower.
“What about Marris?”
“The recording goes to his solicitor in the morning.”
“It doesn’t sound like the scene we imagined.”
“No.”
Bull had asked for movement. The man below had responded. Then Bull had read something that surprised him and spoken words they could not recover. After that, he had asked for a little more.
“What if he told Marris something he didn’t expect?” Eleanor asked.
Relf waited.
“He’s holding the rope, trying to understand what Bull’s saying. Then Bull asks him to pull again.”
“And he pulls too hard.”
“Without meaning to.”
“That would account for the fall.”
“And leaving without telling anyone.”
“It might.”
“Then disposing of the boots when he knew you were tracing them.”
“Or those actions could follow a deliberate killing.”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms against the cold.
“But Bull’s fall could still have been an accident.”
Relf unlocked the car.
“We need Marris to tell us what was said.”
After Relf disclosed the recording to his solicitor, Marris agreed to answer questions.
The interview began at 8:03 the following morning.
Marris looked exhausted. He read the transcript Relf placed before him, then pushed it back across the table.
“You were in the tower with Bull,” Relf said.
“Yes.”
“And you moved the tenor.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you tell us you hadn’t seen him?”
“Because he died while I was helping him.”
Relf waited.
“I knew what it would look like.”
“What did you think we would conclude?”
“That I’d killed him.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then take me through it.”
Marris glanced at his solicitor.
“Adrian asked me to help because I’d been a ringer.”
“How did he know?”
“We met through Ben.”
“Benjamin Hale?”
“Yes.”
“You denied knowing him.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Ben told me never to use his name.”
“And you were still afraid of him?”
Marris rubbed his hands together beneath the edge of the table.
“You didn’t know him.”
“What happened when you reached the church?”
“We went up. Adrian wanted to read the inscription, but part of it was hidden. He was trying to work out how to move the bell.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Not to do it himself.”
“So you went to the ringing chamber.”
“Yes.”
“And he stayed above.”
“He called down what he wanted. I moved it a little at a time.”
“How many times?”
“Three or four. I’m not certain.”
“Could you see him?”
“No.”
“What did you hear him read?”
Marris swallowed.
“Hart.”
“What did he say?”
“‘Christ, it’s Hart.’”
“Then?”
“He said it was Weller.”
Relf kept his pen on the paper.
“The words, as closely as you can remember.”
“‘Hart is Weller. Tom Weller.’ Something like that.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked what he meant.”
“And Bull?”
“He said he’d explain. Then he asked for a little more movement.”
“You pulled again.”
“Yes.”
“Was it a stronger pull?”
Marris looked down.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was thinking about what he’d said. I wasn’t concentrating.”
“Did you intend to hurt him?”
“No.”
“Were you angry with him?”
“No.”
“What distracted you?”
Marris raised his eyes.
“Tom was supposed to be dead.”
“Tom Weller?”
“No. Hart.”
Relf let him continue.
“I knew Hart years ago. I’d heard he drowned.”
“And you knew Weller?”
“Yes. I never connected them.”
“You accepted what Bull shouted?”
“I didn’t know what to think. That was the trouble.”
His solicitor moved the water towards him. Marris took a drink, spilling a little on the table.
Relf waited until he put down the cup.
“What happened after the impact?”
“I called up. He didn’t answer.”
“Then?”
“I went to look.”
“And what did you do when you found him?”
Marris covered his mouth with one hand.
For the first time, he seemed unable to speak.